Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Beach Snob

You probably wouldn't be surprised to learn that I hate crowds.  Always have.  And especially so at the beach.  I am the person that sits as far away from people as possible, and then minutes later is joined by a family with kids slinging mud and frisbies and has a very loud radio supplying the unwanted beat for the day.

My dream when I was in my teens was to own a house on the beach.  Of course, it would be a private beach.  I'm also the person who, after I've moved into an area, thinks there should be a ban on building.  I've thought about getting a "welcome" mat that says, "Leave Me Alone," but decided it would be reasonable to wait for someone to give me one as a gift.

When I was in my thirties, and had given up on owning a beach front home, I bought a couple of timeshare weeks, one at Gurney's Inn on Montauk Beach and the other at Peppertree, Atlantic Beach.  Timeshares have less resale value than cars, so when I moved south, I gave back my Long Island week to the management company, who appeared to be going bankrupt anyway.  I continued to use, or exchange, or rent out, my North Carolina week.  When I discovered I could occasionally find really affordable timeshare week rentals right on the beach I was in heaven.  I've learned to shop cautiously, and with the internet it's pretty easy to get a good idea of what you're signing up for.

I've been wanting to get back to the Gulf Coast of Florida for years.  Mostly it's unaffordable.  So when I saw a week for $600 I did my research, agonized for a couple of hours, and then went for it.  Had I thought a few minutes longer, I would have asked myself if I really wanted to go to Fort Myers Beach in August.

It's hot.  But it's a small resort, not too fancy but with anything I might need (except cell service), and it's right on the beach.  I'm told I have the best unit in the place, and I believe it.  It's a one-bedroom apartment apart from the main building, with a deck, that overlooks a beautiful and quiet piece of beach.  And the waters of the Gulf Coast are beautiful.  Perfect for a coward like me, no waves.  This time of year, the water is slightly cooler than the 90 degree air temp.  The sand is blindingly white and ground fine.  And it's always possible to find tiny, perfectly formed shells.

Yesterday, I took a ten-minute walk on the beach to the main part of town, where there is public beach access.  It was Labor Day, and people were pretty packed in.  I am not proud to say I was horrified.  But it did occur to me that the problem was too little beach for too many people.  The kids were having a blast.  Dogs had been pretty much kept away during regular beach hours.  And there was actually very little garbage strewn around.

The worst thing about people using beaches is what goes on in the water.  As in water "sports."  While it's quieter today, the day after Labor Day, I still watched in horrified amazement as a progression of a dozen or more of what I guess are called jet skis or waverunners raced across the water.  Larger boats speed past, oblivious to anyone's need for pleasure but their own.  Noise and fuel pollute air and water for an afternoon's cheap thrills.

I thought a bit about Carl Hiaasen over this Labor Day weekend, when this small beach town was overrun by tourists.  There is the overdevelopment.  Then there is the willingness to let anyone willing to pay for the pleasure out to tear up the waters and the birds and sea creatures trying to live peacefully within.  How far should we be allowed to go to have fun?  Apparently it is as far as we are willing to pay.

Today in front of my space it is relatively quiet.  I bitched about the smallish motorboat that had to park itself right in front of "my" private beach.  The parade of waverunner thingies was far more upsetting.  But I'm happy that the weekend is over and the summer is over and it's early yet for winter adventurers.  Right now it's just a handful of us older folk and a few couples with pre-school age children.  The mornings are wonderful.

I have been so thrilled to be able to walk into the water, and swim about without fear of being hit by a wave.  But then I went out to cool down a little and swim around, and felt these small slippery things swimming around with me.  Of course they were probably just a school of those tiny fish.  And I wasn't going to let my fears force me out of the water.

When I did go back to the chair I had sitting right at the water's edge I noticed a jellyfish.  And a few feet away, another jellyfish.  Hmm.  I don't plan on being scared out of the water, but as I watch from my apartment today, I will take note of anybody who runs screaming out of the water.  So far, the only noises are coming from the motorcraft.

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