After about five days or so, we decided to stop testing our luck anchoring outside the St. Pete Municipal Marina, which was prohibited, and headed towards Big Bayou, right outside of Coquina Key. We made a stop at the fuel dock where we met Tony. We needed to pull the boat forward to the diesel pump so I was on the pier with the stern line and Tony was the on the pier with the bow line while Blake was in the middle. Blake was giving me one set of instructions and Tony was giving the opposite. In the confusion my line got caught up and I stopped to untangle it meaning that I stopped moving it forward. Tony then went on a several minute rant directed towards me about controlling women and asked me several times how being controlling was working out for me on a sailboat. I responded plainly with, “The line was caught up,” and that’s it. I don’t know who that rant was actually intended for but it sounds like it’s been building up over time.
With Blake’s help, Tony finally redirected his attention to telling us all he knew about anchoring along the southwest coast of Florida. He suggested skipping Naples unless we can afford to stay in a marina. Blake responded that it was not in our budget and he responded that he knew that. I think my eyes rolled all the way to the back of my head. I could not get off that fuel dock fast enough and before we knew it, we were on our way to Big Bayou to drop anchor.
The channel markers in Big Bayou were very confusing, but luckily Blake had the idea the previous day, to take the dinghy and mark waypoints based on depths. We came in at high tide and despite our best efforts, we ran aground twice in an area that was marked with plenty of depth on the charts. It wasn’t until low tide that we noticed the sailboat that was “anchored” was really just dug in deeply to the sand. We finally found a spot away from the other boats, in a beautiful spot by some mangroves, and two-minute dinghy ride to a park with two public docks and a five-minute dinghy ride to another park with public boat ramps and two piers. It was calm, well protected, in walking distance to my sister’s house, and absolutely perfect.
In reflection of our time in St. Pete, I keep going back to “St. Pete vs. Everyone.” I think about the museums, the nature preserves, and the local businesses sprinkled amongst the large chains and I imagine how much fighting St. Pete locals must do to preserve and sustain their culture. When I spoke with Marcus, a leader in a real estate company, he shared about the gentrification happening in neighborhoods around downtown. He described the roots of St. Pete not being deep enough to sustain culture; saying it’s not like New Orleans. I have never been to New Orleans and cannot speak to that, nor do I have that knowledge of St. Pete, but, what he said gave rise to a perspective I have not thought of and that is thinking a community like a tree, with roots and branches, leaves and fruit.
Do a couple of strong roots sustain a tree? It sounds like Marcus doesn't think so. Is St. Pete dying or evolving? I don't have the answer but in our short time, I observed a strong root in preservation based on the numerous nature preserves that seem strategically located in and around the city. We visited Boyd Nature Preserve, 15 minutes from the heart of downtown and Weedon Island Nature Preserve, 15 minutes from downtown in the opposite direction. The preservation of natural spaces seems to be of value to the city, as does sidewalks, public parks with piers and boat ramps, and the most magnificent trees scattered all over the city. It’s a city meant to be traveled on foot, bicycle, or boat/SUP, which many people seem to do. Thanks to my sister winning a stand up paddle board (SUP) a couple of months ago, I got to experience paddling for the first time in Big Bayou and it was magnificently blissful. I’m in love y’all!
Seemingly intertwined in the nature preservation is the indigenous and colonization history at the but it ends at the gates of the preserves. There are a plethora of museums, but I don’t recall a local history museum. I suppose the interest of those that fund things, like museums, are beyond the borders of St. Pete. For example, we visited the Salvador Dali museum, which was spectacular and is 50% off on Thursdays at 5pm with an additional $2 off each ticket if you use the coupon in the visitors guide, for anyone interested. It’s the largest collection of Dali outside of Europe but why in the hell is there a Salvador Dali museum in St. Petersburg, Florida? Regardless, as I said before, it was spectacular and the downside of the Thursday night discount is that you only have an hour to take it all in. I did not take lots of the pictures of the artwork because you should go see it for yourself. It's better that way.
This leads me to another root and that is art. St. Pete is a canvas for the creatives. There are galleries dedicated to local artists. There are local arts and crafts for sale in every store and restaurant. Building walls are embellished with vibrant larger than life murals and there is a giant sculpture in a roundabout down Central Avenue, a street with never ending blocks of trendy boutiques and quirky restaurants. You could probably eat somewhere new everyday for 6 months on Central Avenue alone.
One afternoon, after hiking Weedon Nature Preserve with Blake and Bri, she treated us to Plant Love Ice Cream, a vegan ice cream shop on Central. We each ordered a flight, five small scoops of five different flavors and sat outside in rocking chairs people watching, which is the most entertaining, because the people are just as eclectic as the art, all walks of life meandering up and down Central Ave. Overall, downtown was clean, felt safe, and despite the hustle and bustle, there was a tranquil rhythm to the city.
About 20 minutes west, was St. Pete Beach. I collect sand and shells from every beach and label it with the name of the beach and the date. This was extra special because I had my mom and sister there to help collect shells. Even the beach felt chill. There was no loud music or family BBQs, no tents or lines of umbrellas, just people lounging in the sand with an intense game of sand volleyball in the background. The beach put us in the mood for fish, so we went to Key West fish market, just down the street, what seemed to be a family-owned fish market. The counter had a layer of glass with dozens of pictures underneath. The young man behind the register could tell you when each fish was caught and by who.
He pointed out his little brother in one picture, saying that he was the best fisherman in the family. The young man stated with pride, that this market has the freshest fish we will find. We bought a large fillet of red grouper that Blake blackened that evening on the boat. You may be wondering, “Why not catch your own fish?” We have still been 100% unsuccessful in catching a fish worth eating.
Speaking of a big catch, we finally got to connect with another local sailor! His name is John and he paddled up to our boat in Big Bayou in his handmade wooden row boat. It was his 80th birthday on the day we met him. Within ten minutes, he was offering his home so that we could take hot showers and do laundry. We had all that covered, thanks to my sister spoiling us rotten and letting us come over whenever we needed anything. We are so grateful to you, Bri and Kyle.
John circumnavigated the world about 30 years ago, completing the last 8800 miles solo, in a Morgan 51 ketch. He returned the next morning and he invited us over for a conch dinner. We arrived to John’s at 8:00pm where we tied up to his Cape Dory to step ashore. I took his hand for the step from the boat to land and he was tickled by how tiny my hands were.
We walked through his beautiful home to a gorgeous outdoor dining area where we met his daughters, their friend, and his sweetheart. His daughters were in town for his birthday, one from California and the other from Vermont. A delectable dinner was prepared, fried conch with a spiced lime sauce, black beans, rice, plantains, and a conch ceviche. I’m still dreaming about that conch ceviche. For dessert, Blake had key lime pie and key lime ice cream. We saw pictures, shared sea stories, and despite the sadness I carried after saying by to my sister, I could not have asked for a better way to end our time in St. Pete.
In the eyes of those we met and interacted with in St. Pete, they hold a vision of their city with some of the most sought-after destinations in the world, like London, Paris, and Tokyo. There is a pride in what their city has to offer. We felt a sense of, “Why would you want to plant your roots anywhere else in the world when you can be in St. Pete?”
