Rabbi Simon called me in February. He would be overseeing the kashrus at the Sandy Beach Pesach Hotel in Sandy Beach, South Carolina. And, he was also overseeing construction of the Sandy Beach Hotel’s Pesach eiruv. Normally, Rabbi Simon told me, he would simply encircle the hotel property with plastic conduit poles and fishing wire and the eiruv would presumably be good to go. But in this case, the catering company was storing food in an offsite location, across a busy street from the hotel. In order to transport the food from the warehouse to the hotel on Shabbos, the eiruv would have to cross Welmar Avenue and attach to the warehouse. Rabbi Simon felt this warranted a second opinion and made arrangements to fly me down to South Carolina to take over this aspect of the eiruv project.

“Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “The rest of the eiruv is under control. I do this every year. It’s just the one street crossing that has me a little nervous.”

I arrived in sunny Sandy Beach on Monday morning, ready to work and hoping to be finished by Tuesday morning. If this project was as simple as Rabbi Simon had promised, I could be on to my next job in Orlando, Florida, by Tuesday afternoon.

Rabbi Simon met me at the airport and drove me right over to the hotel. We cruised down Welmar Avenue, slowing down as we passed the warehouse so I could get a preliminary glimpse of the task to be accomplished. Swinging around into the hotel parking lot, we drove past the marina abutting the hotel and pulled into a parking space. The Atlantic Ocean stretched out in front of us, sparkling in the bright sunlight. The waves rolled in gently, completing the idyllic scene.

Rabbi Simon gestured at the dock.

“This was the easiest part of the eiruv to construct,” he commented. “Nothing at all is needed! The seawall under the dock serves as a solid mechitzah (eiruv wall).”

Alarm bells began ringing in my head, but I didn’t want to make any unfair assumptions.

“Hmm,” I responded diplomatically. “Did you measure the dock to make sure it’s not a gag boleit (overhanging roof)?”

Silence. Then, “A gag boleit? Is that a problem? To be honest, I’m not so familiar with the circumstances of gag boleit.”

“Well,” I returned, “a gag boleit is always a possibility when the eiruv runs along a body of water. In this case, it means that the dock extends past the seawall, creating an overhang, which can’t be used as an eiruv wall. Let’s check it out.”

I whipped out my ever-present tape measure and walked around the side of the marina for a better look at the underside of the dock.

Several minutes later, my suspicion was confirmed. This dock was a classic case of gag boleit. “What do we do?!” asked a distraught Rabbi Simon. A true G-d-fearing man, he was deeply disturbed by his oversight. “We can’t have Pesach guests relying on a nonkosher eiruv!”

“First thing we do is take pictures of this beauty for one of my All About Eiruvin slideshow presentations,” I responded brightly, pulling out my phone and starting to photograph the seawall and its offending overhang.

Then, shifting into serious problem-solving mode, I walked along the dock, scanning for potential options. For several minutes, I marched back and forth along the path, thinking hard. As important as it was to have a kosher eiruv, the hotel wasn’t going to allow an eiruv that obstructed the picturesque view of the water. We would need an unobtrusive solution for this section of the eiruv.

“I think our best bet is to place white lechis along these white pillars,” I finally opined. “If we use clear wire on top, it will hardly be noticeable to people who aren’t looking for the eiruv borders.”

Rabbi Simon nodded, and off we went in search of the hotel operations manager, who would (hopefully) authorize this change to the original eiruv plan.

On the downside, the Sandy Beach eiruv entailed significantly more time and expense than originally planned. But on the upside, the Pesach guests would be using a kosher eiruv as they enjoyed their luxurious Yom Tov experience.

I’m no orthopedist and Rabbi Simon isn’t a dentist, but the Sandy Beach experience was a good lesson in scope of practice. Most importantly, the lesson learned was not in vain. In the years following, I’ve come to expect a call from Rabbi Simon during Pesach-planning season, inviting me down to take a look at this year’s Pesach eiruv.

Names and locations have been changed to protect the identity of those involved.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1102)