Two Worlds

During the past two weeks, we’ve been exploring two very different islands right next to each other: Gasparilla to the north, with the town of Boca Grande, and Cayo Costa to the south.

One is an island almost fully developed with little buildable land remaining.

The other is an uninhabited state park.

Both are very long and narrow but on both, the sand beaches are phenomenal.

Gasparilla Island, is the developed island. It holds a special place in our family.

Libbie‘s parents wintered here for 25 years after her dad retired.

I came in to the family a couple years after he retired, so I was able to benefit having a place like Boca Grande to come to for a decade or two.

It has been close to 20 years since Libbie and I have been able to return.

We docked at the Boca Grande Marina, formerly known as Millers.

It’s been an institution on the island, along with its accompanying restaurant.

Libbie and I rode the bikes all over the island to just see the old haunts and see what has changed… which is a lot in 20 years.

There are some things that are still the same. There is a street named Banyan Street. It’s a couple blocks long. One block is lined with old banyan trees.

Some of the stores are institutions there. The lighthouse at the south end of the island is famous.

The seashell searching is good if you like to collect seashells.

Searching for seashells is a favorite pastime of mine. Seashells have all sorts of shapes and sizes here. There’s many different bivalve clam shells and snail shells in many colors.

Along the coast of Florida, there are literally billions of shells, usually in pieces, ground to small chunks and sand by the constant motion of the surf.

Finding one complete with no chips or wear is pretty cool in my opinion.

While shelling has been fun, it’s also interesting to note the changes over the years of what kind of animals live off these beaches.

Human impacts are obvious.

What surprised me, however was the impact of major storms and hurricanes coming through and wiping out entire populations of sea life in vulnerable areas.

After a while, the animals come back.

An example is along Gasparilla’s and Cayo Costa’s coast.

Only 16 months ago, Hurricane Ian came through like a huge Cuisnart and changed the landscape from many standpoints, including the seashells.

Quoting Wikipedia: “Hurricane Ian was a deadly and extremely destructive Category 5 Atlantic hurricane, which was the third-costliest weather disaster on record worldwide, the deadliest hurricane to strike the state of Florida since the 1935 Labor Day hurricane, and the strongest hurricane to make landfall in Florida since Michael in 2018…”

“Ian was the first Category 5 hurricane in the Atlantic since Lorenzo in 2019.”

Ian hit this area with a six to nine foot storm surge (not as much as the Fort Meyer’s area of 10-15 feet in the strongest winds on the right flank of Ian’s eye).

That’s the level of the water, not accounting for waves on the surface of the water.

Waves in Ian were measured close to 30 feet before it came ashore.

Between the wind, surge and waves, Ian was a destructive juggernaut.

The impact on property is obvious.

The sea life: not so much initially.

When we were here 20 and 30 years ago there was sand dollars all over the place.

You could pick one up every few feet.

I remember bringing boxes home from Boca Grande to California full of sand dollars and sea shells that were going to be art projects.

Sadly, all those shells were tossed away when we moved to Lake Tahoe.

Coming back here in 2024 after Ian, it’s obvious that the hurricane decimated the sand dollar population. Sand dollars are very few and far between right now.

Snails with stronger shells like Fighting Conks and Olives are around but are harder to find.

We used to see Moon Snails all the time. There are none to be found around here right now.

I’m sure the populations of these missing animals will return but it’s startling to see how mother nature changes the world with huge weather events.

In terms of humans, they certainly have returned.

That’s what happens when baby boomers retire… there are a lot of us.

I think the housing structure population of Boca Grande has almost doubled in 20 years.

Ian’s impact on the area is still apparent.

Most affluent neighborhoods are back together, although some homes and public buildings are still under repair.

The trailer parks inland that were demolished have all been replaced with stronger homes.

All of the homes range from being refreshed, to being completely rebuilt, to still under construction, to still being vacant lots.

It depended on the homeowner’s financial situation, quality of insurance, and how quickly they could get permits and construction started. It also depended on the damage done by Ian.

The fishing around here is rumored to be pretty phenomenal. We tried to arrange a fishing guide trip for Libbie‘s birthday, but she, the weather did not cooperate. Will try and do it another time.

After a couple of days exploring, we needed to leave the marina as they had other boats coming in.

There was some weather moving in, so we decided to anchor in Peekins Bay at the north end of Gasperilla Island.

We waited out the storm for two days at anchor, catching up on Selkie chores and reading. Selkie rode out the storm at anchor like a champ as usual.

After the two days, we’d developed a bit of cabin fever, and we had not had enough of Boca Grande, so we went back to the Marina for two nights.

We received a message from one of our buddy boats on the river system. While we were there, they were going to cruise by on the way to Burnt Store Marina by Punta Gorda and “cross their wake”.

“Crossing your wake” is what you do when you’ve completed the Loop. It’s a pretty momentous event, one to celebrate the completion of a 6,000 mile journey.

We were pleased to hear they wanted to pick us up so we could all celebrate together.

We said yes, of course.

They picked us at 10:30 am on a beautiful morning. We handed them a bottle of wine for their own celebration.

We headed to Punta Gorda where we popped some champagne, had lunch, and took pictures.

After lunch, they brought us back to Selkie, and we said goodbye. Chances are we will see them in the future, but as with other friends we’ve made, not on the Loop but in our “dirt homes.”

After they left, we got another message from another buddy boat we spent time with on the river system. They were coming up join us at the Boca Grande Marina!

That’s what happens when you’ve been on the Loop for a while… in our case it’s been two years.

They arrived, we barbecued dinner together, and got caught up.

This boat was the one that gave us the idea about storing Selkie in Florida for the summer.

We compared notes and realized that we were going to be storing our boats at the same facility.

The next morning, we said goodbye and left the Boca Grande Marina.

Our next stop was Cayo Costa Island at the Pelican Bay anchorage.

We dropped anchor in another world.

There was a ranger station on shore that was being rebuilt from Ian’s damage but the park had not yet reopened, except for its beaches.

We spent time exploring the beaches.

As it was a park, it was recovering from Ian naturally, so there was a lot of damage to the island.

The trees that survived had fresh greenery, but many of the trees that were dead were still standing.

It felt a little spooky, like being in a scene from Jurassic Park. Luckily, we did not see any velociraptors. We did see a couple small lizards.

The island looked like what Florida looked like before civilization reached its shores.

It was pretty desolate.

But the beaches…. They were awesome.

The ocean had not quite settled down from the weather a few days earlier. The waves were pounding pretty hard.

When you walk on the beach during heavy offshore weather, you sometimes feel assaulted by the roar of the pounding surf.

The cries of the sea birds and the shorebirds will ring out as you walk along the shore.

You smell the salty air.

You feel the cool salt water on your legs as you walk through the waves.

I understand why people come to the ocean, perhaps to enjoy, perhaps to heal, perhaps just to spend some quiet time.

But as you turn away from the beach and walk through the dunes, the sound of the surf fades to a quiet, very dull roar, and things become peaceful.

It’s something that I really appreciate.

It’s been one of the best parts about the Loop.