Here in Florida, there's a West Coast Trailer Sailing Squadron, and an East Coast Trailer Sailing Squadron. Each has a Sail-out about once a month, and I've tried to join them when I'm not working. I live in Orlando, so it's just an hour or two either way, and I'm sailing in places I never would have found myself.
Saturday the WCTSS met at Fort DeSoto Park, at the mouth of Tampa Bay. I followed directions to the ramp and then followed the others to a sandy beach just inside an inlet to the Gulf. There were a number of Drascombes this time. Lovely little boats, but that rudder system isn't made for Florida waters. Here the probability of going aground has been calculated to be just over 106%. We all stood around, traded stories, checked out each others boats and did a little sailing. A few of us went out into the Gulf. We had a west breeze of about ten knots and the temperature was about 80, a light chop, and the skies were clear. It was a beautiful day!
The north side of the inlet is an island that had dozens of tents set up for the weekend. Their small ski/fishing boats were anchored bow-out with a line from the stern to the shore.
We were on the south side, which was actually part of the park. (It's a very big park). A hook of sand almost encircled a small, shallow cove, and we gathered on the east side of all this along with shore fishermen with their families...and sun bathers...and shellers...and people who just wanted to park their boat on the sand for a while. I tend to prefer fewer people...none would be nice. However, we were in a major population center, and I certainly can't fault those people for wanting to enjoy such beautiful surroundings.
The others left about 3:30 or so, but I was prepared to spend the night. It seemed that everywhere that could hold a boat had one. The little cove was discussed, but it was shallow enough to wade across and it wasn't quite low tide yet. Besides, on the other side were picnic tables, rest rooms, and parking lots. And hoards of people. No place else looked good.
About 5:30 I sailed into the cove, found a place that was nearly knee deep, and anchored. The bottom was sandy, and it's much easier setting up my boat when I can walk around and snap snaps and pull and stretch etc. When I looked up, the people that were left were leaving! I waded ashore and chatted with a couple that informed me that no one was allowed in the park after dark. There was a fresh water shower for the bathers and...restrooms, which solved a growing concern and put me in a fine mood. I watched the sunset from the beach, returned to Sawdust, put the cushions down in the cockpit where I could lean back against the aft bulkhead and settled in to watch the last of the people leave my anchorage. I broke out a single-serving bottle of very cheap merlot, an aerosol can of bland cheese, and a zip-lock bag of Triskits. Just how good can things get? This is the part where one usually names dozens of bird species. Well, they were there, but except for three great blue herons and lots of different kinds of gulls, I can't be of much help. The important thing is that they all quieted down at dark. I sat for quite a while. (Actually I had two single-serving bottles of cheap merlot.) I could hear a gentle surf. The low sand spit was only about 50 yards wide in spots. I could see a few fires from the campers across the inlet, but couldn't hear the wonderful time they thought they were having. The stars gave way to high clouds that moved in from the east and the clouds glowed from the lights of the city. It never got completely dark and I never really needed my light.
When I got up in the pre-dawn the cove was absolutely flat, and any movement I made was broadcast to every shore. I put the percolator on my little stove, and watched the sun come up just like it was supposed to. I drank my coffee, had a bowl of cereal and headed off to the restrooms. The sand was covered with raccoon tracks...big ones. They probably have some sort of rule against shooting them however. You know if you rub them down with red pepper, par boil them, and then roast them like beef...
I took my time putting the boat in order and actually enjoyed it. By the time I'd finished a breeze arrived. The wrong breeze. I'd have preferred a west breeze. North or south would have been fine. As it was, I really was in no hurry and made it to the ramp by about 9:30. By 10:00 Sawdust was on the trailer and the breeze died.
I left with the feeling I'd gotten away with something not quite legal.
Gordy Hill sirgordy@peoplepc.com
18th March 2002.