For our time in Tampa, we had rented a vacation home on Home Away, thinking it would be nice for all of us to have a break from hotel living. After pulling into the driveway, and
getting settled, we were able to take in the incredible views of the water
surrounding two sides of the large house. We realized instantly that we had made the perfect
choice. The house and its dock were located on a beautiful channel that weaved through dense greenery for
miles before filtering out to the Tampa Bay.
We were sitting in Adirondack chairs on the deck, only minutes after arriving, when we first noticed something disturbing the water off the dock. We hopped up and walked the short grassy slope down to the water's edge. Only a few feet away, we could see a group of 3 or 4 manatees playing in the inlet. We couldn't believe our eyes and watched their every movement for as long as we could, until the dark made everything impossible to see. It was finally dinner time so we headed out for groceries, and we talked the whole time about our amazing manatee encounter.
I have to admit that my lifelong premonition of dying by bull shark has hindered my interest in any marine mammal that won't actually eat me. Before descending on Florida, I could pick a bull shark out of a line-up but had no idea what a manatee was. It made the first time I met one in open water, a very interesting experience.
On what was a very warm Memorial Day earlier this year Trav and I, and his mom, were in the waves in Daytona. Up to my chest, trying to cool off, I was suddenly distracted by a very large sea mass emerging part-way from the water to my immediate left. As soon as I turned, the slimy body that had just surfaced was continuing it's movement through the air and water, opposite the current, and in my direction. I could feel my brain trying to compute what I was seeing, with logic, but the brown and rough skin of this sea creature did not fit the Dolphin profile. Overriding my brain, my gut told me to run fast. My screams for Trav and Laurie to get out, followed me to shore and when I tried to explain what I had just seen, I could hear myself use words like "sea monster" and "barnacles". We laughed about it later, but what I had seen was permanently imprinted on my mind; I just had no idea what it was.
A couple of weeks later, in the surf, probably even in the same spot, I
heard a noise to my left that again, made me turn immediately. It sounded like water being pushed through a snorkel, and again, it was coming from a large brown body, now completely submerged, but swimming directly towards me. There was another error in that instantaneous moment that your brain runs through 1,000 scenarios as mine was computing "whale" and had me backing up quickly. Logic quickly returned and while I still continued to back up, the noise that I had just heard comforted and intrigued me. I didn't run and instead watched it swim by, unphased, as I called out to Travis. He also stood still, watching it swim by, in amazement. It didn't surface again and we finally lost sight of it. Neither one of us could explain what we had seen and my sea monster now had two witnesses. I stopped Google-ing "what kind of sharks kill people in Daytona?" and started learning more about the sea monster we had been swimming with. That's how I met the manatee.
Though it may not have been love at first sight, I was now enamored, feeling so blessed to get to see my new fascination play so freely in the backyard. It made me realize that finally overcoming the challenge of losing the Bahamas had opened the doors of a much more welcomed challenge. Starting with "Surviving the Perfect Storm", we were knocking things off our new bucket-list, compliments of Tampa.
We had completed our daily mission of spotting manatees for the
day and rewarded ourselves at the nearby brewery, Cigar City. I’ve been hooked
on their brew, Jai Alai, since I arrived in Florida as I always try to drink local when
“traveling”. Trav thought that I was a
weirdo when Jai Alai was the first beer that I ordered. The Sertoma Smoke was next, and simply amazing. Capping
it off with a Cucumber Saison (vacation or not, it was still before 4p)
provided the perfect sampling. I have a thing for breweries, so naturally, Cigar City was a no-brainer bucket-list score. Thank you Tampa.
The next day was our ‘search for a local beach’ day, and as recommended
by our “landlord”, we decided to try Honeymoon Island, which is actually a state
park. We waited in the line of cars (boo) to pay the fee (boo) to enter the park. As soon as we entered, we found the giant parking lot indicating the public beach, and noticed its propensity to fill up fast. We grabbed our chairs, and nestled into a small patch of sand among the many beach goers, just big enough to set up our chairs and umbrella. I looked at the already crowded water and felt content with my surroundings. That might sound surprising, due to my life-long stance on personal space, so I'll back up. When Trav was paying the entrance fee, I noticed the sign noting the water conditions for the day and noticed the flag was colored purple. I had never seen a purple flag before so I looked down at the color descriptions to find more information. As Travis was pulling away, all I could make out was "Dangerous Sea Life". Wait, seriously!? Suddenly the crowd that was now surrounding us had a new purpose, they were shark bait. I would feel more comfortable with my chances of survival while swimming now.
Since we were on the west coast of Florida at this
point, the water we were swimming in was the Gulf. The beach beneath our feet
at the water's edge was rocky enough to require shoes, though the water was so
clear that in moments of incredibly bright sun, you were able to spot a sand
path that led out to chest deep water, with sand that was soft enough to allow us to stand
comfortably. As opposed to balancing on a moss-covered rock. The wave-less water was cool enough to be refreshing and we spent most of the morning in the water.
We were pretty
hungry when we took our seats in our beach chairs to eat the lunch I had packed at the condo: sandwiches and a couple of beers. I had just pulled half of
my sandwich out of its wrapping when I felt the wheat bread and salt water make a paste in my mouth. I had half of my newly bitten sandwich in my left hand and
happened to lean slightly to the right as I looked for my beer that was in my beach chair’s
cup holder. In leaning to the right, I must've raised my left arm with my sandwich ever-so slightly. It was in that very split second, that I felt an
intense yank on my sandwich-bearing arm, in the immediate upward direction, with
incredible force. Stunned, with a million things running through my mind, I
immediately turned to yell at Travis who was sitting on the incriminating side of
me, and very close, as we were both crammed under a single umbrella for shade.
Travis had the same confused look on his face which immediately told me he was not the culprit.
It was in that instant that I looked up and saw a seagull straight ahead of me, now
staring me down, with a piece of turkey hanging from his beak. Within seconds
he and 5 of his henchmen, who were quickly growing in quantity, were moving with
purpose towards me to finish the job. It took me only a second to realize that I had been cased,
and this bird Front Boss had pounced on the slimmest opportunity by flying between Travis and I, under
our beach umbrella, and grabbing my sandwich with such determination. It was
quickly evident that this bird did not expect to come out empty-handed. I wasn’t sure who was
more mad as we stared each other down, him or me. The squawks from the park bench behind me, obviously the
exact spot where this plan was born, became more intense by the second and I
knew the Mafia Don of this operation was advising his thugs that he had me
surrounded. When kicking sand and one-armed “shooing” didn’t work, I’d be lying
if I said that I didn't become a bit intimidated. I have known seagulls and their
aggressive food-stealing antics from growing up in San Diego, but these were a
gang far more sophisticated than the crew responsible for stealing my pizza as
a child. I finally had to come to my feet to physically chase the birds off, and as I did, I heard an older man, part of the party next to us, say to his wife
in the most southern of accents: “well,
I haven’t ever seen anything like that before..” You can say that again. I sat down and
looked at the large bite, not of my doing, that was out of my sandwich and Trav and I laughed as
we asked ourselves if the last 30-seconds had really just
happened. My heart was still beating from the adrenaline but we had knocked one more down off the bucket-list: "Memorable waterfront meal"
This was the day we were supposed to check out and head back to Daytona. Since we didn't have anything to hurry home to, we extended our trip with an email to the landlord, from the beach, who was happy to oblige. We had remembered a random conversation with a woman we had met in Key West, and immediately made another reservation for bright and early the next day.
This was the day we were supposed to check out and head back to Daytona. Since we didn't have anything to hurry home to, we extended our trip with an email to the landlord, from the beach, who was happy to oblige. We had remembered a random conversation with a woman we had met in Key West, and immediately made another reservation for bright and early the next day.
Our alarm went off at 4am the next morning. We got ready,
made coffee, and hit the road. The drive to Crystal River, Florida took us over 2 hours and we pulled into the dive shop before the sun was even thinking about rising. We were given two wet
suits and snorkel gear and watched a safety video. I knew this was the only
place in the world where we could “legally” snorkel with manatees but I had no
idea until watching the video that swimmers could even touch them... I couldn’t wait.
When we got on the water, the Pontoon Boat Captain advised
that it was currently the "off-season" for manatees, with the "peak season" being
in January when there could be 600-700 manatees at Crystal River at one time. How amazing.
He explained there were about 15 resident manatees that lived there year-round, and he would
do his best to find them but offered, and even stressed, no
guarantees. The boat headed out, on a
slow and steady pace. For the first 20 minutes, other
than a 3-foot alligator (we are in Florida..), things were looking bleak.
This was a new kind of snorkeling trip for me. Most of my
excursions had been pretty “by the book” except for one trip where Trav and I
swam with nurse sharks & sting rays in the Caribbean. For that
particular experience, we were taken out into the open ocean, where a large fish tank had been built to keep the sharks and rays contained. All of the snorkelers were dunked into the tank with the extra large fish that were probably drugged. It wasn’t anything like seeing the shark in Key
West, completely free, in its own environment, doing its own thing. So when the pontoon boat started navigating canals that were people’s backyards, searching for any sight of manatees, I
knew right off the bat, this was nothing we had ever experienced. Having watched the manatees that had visited the house each day, I was aware of some of the things to look for, and saw the
circles on the water’s surface almost immediately. Within minutes, the boat of 7
emptied into the water and as soon as we put our masked faces in the water, we were watching the manatee eat breakfast, on the very
shallow floor.. It was amazing. We
followed the manatee around like paparazzi for what seemed like hours, getting as close as possible.
Sometimes it would change directions so fast that it was coming directly for me
and my heart would jolt as I tried to get out it’s giant path. All of the dots were connected getting to see these beautiful animals so clearly and so personally.
We swam and explored the most beautiful springs and made friends with our boat mates and Captain as the sun came up, and the hours of morning ticked by. We
swam with another grazing manatee before heading back to the dock, arriving back before 11am. On the
way to the dock, our tale was told again in response to questions from fellow
travelers, also all traveling with a story, through Crystal River. The Captain
shook our hands as we got off the boat as we were the last ones to leave. As he did, he addressed that life had definitely thrown us "one hell-of-a bucket of lemons". He added that he couldn't be more impressed with our attempt at kick-ass lemonade. I couldn't have said it better. We smiled ear-to-ear as we recounted our experience and looked at pictures and videos we had taken over a greasy breakfast at a nearby diner. Due to the lack of tables, we shared a table for four with an elderly couple we had never met. We exchanged the hot sauce and creamer as needed, as we crossed off another bucket-list item, on day 3 in Tampa, before noon: "Making unlikely and unforgettable friends".

We drove back to Daytona, upbeat, knowing we were headed back to the beach so the vacation wasn't over. I can't put a name to what I felt because it's still too soon to be "thankful" for the Bahamas experience. The Bahamas would have brought new experiences all of its own, however, without its capsizing, we wouldn't have gotten to know Florida like we have. The memories from our experiences here will always be some of the best we've ever had. Sometimes it must just take a lot of large lemons to make such sweet tasting lemonade.
Here's the awesome Go Pro video from our trip: https://vimeo.com/102043099
Read Next: #21- Looking For That Loving Feeling, Aug 19

