The Beach Blog
by Bill Longenecker
Posted December 30, 2010
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Beach life is different.
Many people live near or on the water in our area. Our ocean is not just any body of water. It is the second biggest ocean on the planet.
The great Atlantic even houses the great white shark. One came near the coast a couple of years ago. The mighty St. Johns River may harbor a big cat fish. When reports of the Great White sightings were in the news, my thoughts while swimming would sometimes dwell on the visitor.
I figured he or she was out in the Gulf Stream where water temperatures are often 15 to 20 degrees warmer. Right along the beach, the water is often as low as 49 to 52 degrees during January and February. I swim in waist deep water. No self-respecting Great White would touch such shallow water.
Those thoughts made me feel somewhat safe. It also applies to regular neighborhood sharks as well. I last saw one up close in 1987 while in my kayak. The water was so turbid, that I could only enjoy the maybe 16 inch fin as it poked above the surface. My approach must have spooked it and our visit was too brief.
A friend always shakes his head when I respond to his question, "Did you swim today?" He cannot believe I have seen so few sharks over the years.
"Oil Can Charlie" (aka Kerosene Joe) was the last big shark that "terrorized" our area. He was about a 12 to 15 foot Hammerhead who would swim slowly off the beach about 100 yards in the early 70's. Local lore said it lived in a torpedoed ship off Ponta Vedra. His territory extended north to Mayport. He was caught in the late 70's.
That old fin would stick up and then flop over on itself. Once a rookie Neptune Beach policeman jumped out of his car and pumped about four shots from his shot gun toward that fin. I could only imagine the shark laughing at that response. He does not seem to have ever eaten or even nipped anyone. There may have been one close encounter for me, circa 1964.
Bruce Clelland, the area's first pro surfer, told me that a large shark appeared to be after me as I swam for my drifting surfboard before the time of board leashes. Bruce was standing on the pier as I wipe-outed and went in for the board.
I would like to think it might have been Charlie, but Bruce never mentioned the hammerhead.
In addition to offering exotic sea life, the ocean takes care of island residents with its amazing climate control powers. Our air is warmer by as much as 5 to 10 degrees even during most every regional freeze. Summer sea breezes mean I do not need the air conditioning unit that died about eight years ago.
Sunrises are often too spectacular for mere words. A rainbow of colors, especially during the fall, radiate above the horizon. Rich yellows, deep and nuanced purples, reds, and blues last less than 30 minutes, but are well worth the efforts to see them.
Traffic has become a true problem. Third Street, aka State Highway A1A, cannot be made any wider than its four lanes. There are some afternoons between 4 and 6 when I actually have to wait at a stoplight to cross by foot or on a bike! (Those stuck on I-95 will not have any pity for me.)
First Street in two cities, Ocean Boulevard in the other, is one block back from the ocean more or less. It is the territory of walkers, runners, and bicyclists. We dominate the traffic there along with occasional baby strollers parading on that strand.
On the west side of Third Street, our "inland" and Intracoastal areas offer their own unique approach to beach life. Traffic is rarely a problem in those quiet neighborhoods. Tall oaks, pines, magnolia, and cedar trees shade narrow two lane streets.
The nameless island that houses this beach world is about 35 miles long. It is up to about two plus miles wide in distance if not in the actual land when the long lake that backs up as the Guana Lake at the dam on the Guana River is figured into the mix.
At the Guana Tolomato Matanzas National Estuarine Research Reserve, we find the maximum width of our island. That has to be the longest name for a "park" on earth! The "little" island projection is formed by the lake, Guana River, and the Tolomato River on the west and is about a mile wide.
The San Pablo River to the north meets the Tolomato River and heads towards St. Augustine where Vilano Beach make up the southern tip of the nameless island. The island formation was completed those two rivers were dredged into each other many years ago. The St. Johns River crosses the northern tip at Mayport village.
Our unique island life is generally wonderful. Only one hurricane has visited major destruction in my lifetime. May there never be another Dora!
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You can reach Bill with your comments at (904) 246-0417 and lbill90@aol.com
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