Healed by the Ocean

We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came.

--John F. Kennedy

In the past few days, my cold has started to depart and my energy has started to return.  Yesterday I was hoping to get a camp spot at Fort DeSoto State Park near St. Petersburg.  The state parks have offered the best options for exploring and getting outside, and I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t able to get a second night at St. Andrews Park.  Being that it is Memorial Day Weekend, I figured it was going to be tough finding spots, but I figured I’d check online just incase. On Thursday night the online reservation system said that the Fort DeSoto campground was indeed full, but that on Friday morning at 7:00am they would make about 25 spots available for last-minute reservations.   I woke up at about 6:45am and got online and waited for it to show available campsites.  Right at 7:00am, about 25 or so popped up, so I clicked on the “Make Reservation” button next to one of them.  It asked me what dates I wanted and I filled in “May 22 – May 24” and hit “Submit.”    A window popped up that said “Error:  Another user is already registering those dates.”  Drats. I wasn’t fast enough. Oh well, there were still about 24 more sites, so I picked another one.  I got the same message—someone else was already registering for this weekend as well.  There were a lot more last minute Memorial Day planners awake at 7:00am than I hoped there would be!  I tried another one...and another one…all with the same result.  Eventually there was only one campsite left, and I was not fortunate enough to get it.    I’d have to come up with a backup plan.  I resorted to using the Passport America program that I bought earlier—the one that gave discounts on what appeared to be crappy little RV parks.  I called one in Dunedin which is a little bit north of St. Petersburg.  It had good reviews, and was cheap.  The lady said that they had one spot available for one night only, so I took it.  At least it would get me part way through the Memorial Day Weekend.  Also, knowing that I had a spot secure gave me a little more freedom to go exploring on the 3-hour drive to Dunedin without having to worry about finding something last minute when I arrived.  

A warning...but still no 'gators!

On the drive, I spotted a sign for the Crystal River State Park. It was located in a wildlife refuge, and a wildlife refuge sounded like the perfect spot to catch sight of a ‘gator.  I turned off of Highway 19 and followed a little road to the park.  There was a small trail called “Eagle Scout Trail” off the side of the road, so I parked my van, put on my shoes, and got out for a short hike.  I started walking down a grassy path that had marshy waters on both sides. It was about 95 degrees out and very humid: I could feel the heat pressing against me like a winter blanket, and after only a few yards I was sweating profusely.  Cicadas screeched in the air and flies darted at my face and arms.  I briefly thought about going back to the van to put some bug spray on, but figured I’d “man up” and just swat them away. I didn’t plan to be out for too long anyways.   The path narrowed through a heavily forested area for several hundred yards, and then opened up alongside a rich, green pond with muddy sides.  It looked like the perfect place for an alligator to sit.  I followed the path around the pond for a bit, and indeed came upon a sign that warned of alligators.  There was a small wooden platform built next to the edge of the water, so I stood for a while eyeing the water and the shore.  After a few minutes, a dark shape burbled up near the edge.  I waited with anticipation, but was disappointed when it turned out to be two small turtles frolicking at the surface. Several more minutes passed, and I saw no alligators.  The flies at my face and the sweat on my back were starting to urge me to go back to my van and turn on the air conditioning, so I turned away from the alligator-less pond and walked back.  I still plan to be in Florida for several more days, so I’ll have to try again on my quest for ‘gators.  As I walked back, I noticed that I was starting to feel tired and depleted of energy again, and I realized that I was not quite 100% better.

With the a/c on and a cold bottle of water from my refrigerator, I drove the rest of the way to the Dunedin Carefree RV Resort.  Once there, I checked in and got my van setup. It actually was much better than the previous Passport America sites.  The bathrooms were newer and clean, there was a nice pool, and each RV site had a small bit of grass and a picnic table.   In the evening I was treated to another fantastic light show—this one even more impressive than the one at St. Andrews Park.  Lightning continuously filled the distant sky for about 30 minutes straight.  There was a large, fluffy cloud that seemed to harbor most of it, as it flashed and lit up like some giant, scary Halloween decoration.  There was no thunder and no rain—just a sky that continuously flashed on and off like some kid was playing with the light switch somewhere.   As I sat outside watching the lightning, I could hear steel drum music floating in the air from a bar that was right outside of the RV park.  It called to me like a siren, beckoning me to come join the fun that obviously was going on there, but my energy had been used up on the little walk earlier in the day, so I resisted and instead ended up going to bed.  I took some Nyquil to ensure I slept soundly, and I fell asleep for about 11 hours.

Quite a light show!

This morning when I woke up, I definitely felt much better.  The sickness seemed like it was entirely gone, and I was ready to be back at it.  I left the Dunedin Carefree RV resort and found a nearby Starbucks.  With the help of two iced coffees and Starbucks Internet, I was able to get reservations for 2 nights at the Club Naples RV Park in Naples (another one on the Passport America discount plan!), and then 2 nights at Bahia Honda State Park in the Florida Keys, so my plans were made solid for the next few nights.  I left the Starbucks and headed on I-75 to Naples. Along the way I passed over a section of highway that traversed a bay on a narrow land bridge:  a thin strip of land that was barely wider than the highway and surrounded on both sides by water.  The view of the sun, the water, and a beach in the distance cheered me up and made me look forward to my next few days.  With my head feeling much clearer and my spirit less sleepy, the beautiful weather dictated that I stop at a beach somewhere along the way.  There’s something about the ocean that just calls to my soul.  Even though I’ve traveled almost 7000 miles, it still silently beckons to me saying, “You’re home.”  I know it’s a different ocean and a different time zone, but the sound of the waves, the smell of the salt, and the squish of sand in my toes are like part of my essence, and they just make everything better.  I found a beach called “Barefoot Beach Preserve” in Bonita, which is just north of Naples.  I paid my $8 to park and amazingly found a spot large enough for my van.  As I got out of my van and started walking to the beach, I heard a loud clap of thunder.  I walked down the boardwalk to the sand and was nearly pushed back by a tide of people rapidly leaving the beach.  People were leaving in droves as the sky got darker and louder.  One guy that passed me even said “You’re going the wrong way—must be a die hard!”  I told him that I had driven 7000 miles to get here and a little thunder wasn’t going to scare me away.  All of the people leaving just meant there would be more space for me on the sand.

It looks like I edited this, but I didn't! Surreal storm line

As I stepped out onto the beach, the scene was almost surreal—on one side of me the sky was blue and beautiful with a few puffy white clouds sitting serenely above; on the other side, the sky was a dark steely gray and it rumbled threateningly.  There was a distinctly visible line separating the two halves, and I was right in the middle of it.  I noticed that the storm was moving very quickly and I was anticipating that it might blow out as quickly as it blew in.  I set a towel out, unfolded my chair, put on some sunblock, and defiantly sat down waiting for the storm to pass.  In the distance to my right a few streaks of lightning crackled down.  A park ranger rode by on an ATV and warned a few other bold remaining people to get out of the water.  I was one of only a handful of people on the beach and as she passed me she told me to keep an eye on the lightning coming.  I assured her that I would and thanked her for her concern as she drove by.  The storm continued on, maintaining the unusual dividing line it had created in the sky. I held my ground, and my hope that it would pass.  Eventually, it did indeed move on and the sky grew a little clearer. People came back to the beach, and I went in the ocean once the lightning had stopped.  The water was about 80° and a murky blue-green.  The powder-like sand on the beach would get stirred up in the waves preventing any clarity.  I floated on the surface and stretched out the creaks in my arms and legs.  It felt tingly on my skin and I imagined it washing away any last bit of sickness that I had.  That brief dip in the ocean water returned my spirit, reconnected my soul, and made me feel alive again.  Just like the storm had passed through, so went the way of my cold.  Sometimes the key to enduring the uncomfortable bits in life lies in remembering the powers of patience, persistence, and endurance.  

After about two hours at the beach, I figured I had plenty for one day and shouldn’t push it too much farther.  I left the people at the beach, went back to my van, and happily headed to the Club Naples RV Park.  Tomorrow I have reservations made for an airboat ride in the Everglades.  Perhaps I’ll see that ‘gator yet!