Nobody in our group of 20 adults had heard anything about a storm before we left. In 2017 we knew there was a chance of a hurricane interrupting the trip and we ended up getting kicked out of the park after a few days. This year, halfway through the trip someone glanced at their phone and muttered, “Huh. There’s a tropical depression off Cuba.” The forecast for Cape San Blas still looked fine – maybe some rain on our way out – so I didn’t think twice about it.
I was more concerned about the red tide we’d been warned might impact the area. Fortunately, that didn’t turn out to be a problem. Sometimes it’s biting flies (not bad this year.) Sometimes it’s too windy and cold to swim at night (perfect night swimming weather this time.) The storm held off, lucky for us, so this year’s Mother Nature’s Mixed Bag of Gifts included jellyfish. I think every one of the 10 kids in the group got stung at least once, though usually it was no worse than a fire ant bite. If you don’t want the occasional challenge from the natural world, head to Disney or Vegas. They’re both fantastical human-built worlds.
This was our 7th year going to T.H. Stone Memorial Park, Cape San Blas, just the other side of the bay from Port St. Joe. A lucky few arrived Wednesday but JJ and I couldn’t get there until Thursday evening. By then, the gigantic circus tent was set up for shade during the day and light shows at night. The camp fire was ready for grilling. We popped up the tent, mixed a drink and headed for the beach. The water this year featured one of our favorite gifts from the Mixed Bag: Pyrodinium bahamense, Dinoflagellates – those microscopic critters than light up like fireflies when you run your hand through the water. The calm, warm sea was perfect for splashing about, sending sparkles everywhere. Then back to the group spot for another round, some tall tales, maybe third shift if one has the gusto. Morning started by being awoken by our early-bird neighbors, degenerates SG and CH, driving out to greet the sunrise over the bay.
Others are up fixing breakfast options: melon, bacon, eggs, biscuits, sausage and sausage gravy, hash brown casserole, pop tarts – you name it, someone has it. Fortunately for the night owls, there is always too much so no matter when a person gets up there is likely something delicious to eat.
Then: hike, swim, slack in the shade, play games – each to their own. The down side of having nights warm enough for swimming is the afternoons can be a bit oppressive. Stay in the water and you’re fine. If you need A/C, hit the town.
JJ and HL beat the heat with a retreat to the Indian Pass Raw Bar. I’ll spare you the photos of the food because you’d be starved. Suffice to say, they serve up some damn fine seafood. But I’m not just plugging a fine local establishment. Remember this picture for later.
We learned the very first year that the sunsets on this beach are worth delaying dinner for. The peninsula curves around to face the west so the sun sets over the sea, sometimes with spectacular clouds or rays of light or dolphins jumping through the reflection – not to be missed.
One of my favorite things – push a floatie out onto the technicolor sea and giggle for an hour. Here’s degenerate DN doing the same.
Back at group camp, it is feasting time. Over the long weekend we enjoyed grilled shrimp tacos, fried grouper, steamed shrimp, fried oysters, grilled steak, homemade black beans and cornbread, roast chicken, grilled corn salad, grilled pork loins marinated different ways… and that’s just what I can remember.
Hit the beach again and enjoy the titular bioliminescent sparkle party happening in the water, if you’re lucky, and/or stare at the light show going on in the sky (and/or back in the circus tent.) A couple of days of this and I don’t want to leave.
Unfortunately, the park rangers came around and told us otherwise. The tropical depression we hadn’t been paying attention to was headed our way, just as it had the year before. Fortunately, we were already packing up.
We waved goodbye as we drove past the Indian Pass Raw Bar, already boarding up their windows for the coming storm. JJ and I traditionally stop in Apalachicola for one last seafood feast before speeding north. This year, we found a second story balcony and enjoyed some great seafood in a stiff breeze. “Cat 3” was the most repeated word of the day, referring to the latest developments at sea. We’d just heard on the radio that a mandatory evacuation notice had been issued for the entire cape. We informed the people sitting next to us and they hurried out to drive back and pack up their cabin.
We got home in time to pack JJ up and send her right back so she could report on any developments. Over the next two days, Michael grew to category 4, 1 mph short of category 5. The area we just left was all but laid to waste.
The end of Cape San Blas where the state park is has been cut off by the sea and is now an island. I’m not worried about the park. Mother nature will rebuild, and humans can rebuild the road if they have the will. Hopefully, the Sparkle Party will be back next year at the same spot. If not, we’ll likely move to another beach, at least until we can get back.
Here’s Indian Pass Raw Bar.
The building is still standing, which is more than you can say for the vast majority of nearby Mexico Beach. They posted this photo on facebook and said, “We’ve been here since 1929 and we’re not going anywhere. So as soon as we find our doors, we’ll open them to business.”
An article in Garden and Gun notes that they later found their sign and one of the doors, so there is some good news in the deluge of disaster.
There are a ton of articles, photos and videos out there covering the tremendous damage to Mexico Beach, Panama City and a path across the Southeast. Some of my favorite places have been lost, and restoring others is going to be a herculean task. (Yes, climate change, and what about Puerto Rico/Flint/Yemen, and building codes, and and and… And fuck off, a lot of these people have lost everything, including many lives, even some that weren’t near the coast so take your distractions elsewhere.)
