A Moment on Anclote Key By Larry Annen
I
was reading the news this morning and started to get depressed. The economy is horrible and the government wants more of my tax dollars so they can hand them over to people who already have millions in offshore accounts—plus bailouts, fallouts, foreclosures…enough already! There is not much to this story, nothing really new or too terribly exciting. It’s simply my way of mentally escaping every now and then. Sometimes I can actually make it to the beach; sometimes I have to do the “Zen out-ofbody experience” and just look at pictures. One way or the other, I’m going to the beach now. The sights and sounds are amazing—if you slow down long enough to take a look. Most of the beaches that I’ve found are terribly crowded. However, some are amazingly desolate for being so close to civilization. I much prefer the desolate beaches. They are mostly the ones I have to get to by boat, usually during everyone else’s workweek. We were walking along on Anclote Key one day when I found this little crab in a shell. He appeared to be doing nothing more than idling away his day, waiting for the tide to come back in. He appeared to be in no hurry to go anywhere or do anything special. I envied the crab a little. So relaxed and peaceful—at least until I came along and disturbed him. The beach I’m standing on has been here for a myriad of years and has changed only slightly during recent history. Hurricanes come and go, shorelines shift and change, but this spit of land is much like it was in the 1500s. I found a nautical chart online at the Library of Congress that showed Anclote Key as an anchorage for the explorers discovering this new world. Hernando De Soto and Cabeza
78 April 2014
SOUTHWINDS
de Vaca were but two famous explorers of the era who were likely here. Privateers and pirates alike; Jean Laffite, Black Caesar, and possibly even Jose Gasparilla himself set foot on this small respite of dry land! There is a little anchor symbol in just about the same spot I anchor. French, Dutch, English, Spanish,
everyone that had a chart stopped here. Anclote Key (Spanish for anchor) was listed as having fresh water, and up the Anclote River was an abundance of game and fruit. Generally, there were no hurries back then, just basic survival. It was without question a tough way to live having to hunt your food down in something other than a grocery store aisle where gasoline prices determined what your tomato cost. But then again, they didn’t have to worry about failing economies, what to wear to work that day, or why did my retirement fund simply vanish. They spent a lot of time on the beach. Here was most of what they needed: Fish, oysters, and clams surrounded the island. A short ride up the river was everything else they needed. No channel markers, loud stereos, or low-flying jets. The simple sounds of nature filled the easy tropi-
cal breezes. Standing on this beach I often wonder what the early explorers felt when they looked upon the unspoiled land of unlimited opportunity. Spanish galleons frequently used this as a stopover point to replenish their fresh water and food stores while transiting from Cuba to Mexico and back. The native Indians looked at the odd people and were happy when they sailed on. I’ve anchored my sailboat this morning in the same place they secured their wooden ships. Sailors of that time only knew a compass and the sun for time and speed. I have a GPS that keeps me within a tenth of a second and seven feet of anywhere on earth I desire to be. I don’t know if I would brave the journey they did, even with my wind generator, solar panels, and watermaker all operating at peak efficiency. It is remarkable what the explorers accomplished, especially considering what they had to work with. One such visionary stood on this beach a little over 400 years ago. He looked at the same stars I am looking at and listened to the same relentless surf washing the shore I hear today. We were both barefoot. Many years have drifted into the eternity of the cosmos between us. They were brave indeed, and here they stood, in the very same spot I am today. Perhaps he was looking at a crab, just like mine. Contribute a Story: Got a story about a unique experience? An experience that taught you a valuable lesson while sailing? A unique experience? A funny experience? An adventurous experience? Keep them short and sweet 700-1200 words, with or without photo. Ask for details or send to editor@southwindsmagazine.com. www.southwindsmagazine.com