7-1-19 Carrabelle, FL

First, there’s this.  You know how your beer glass sweats and when you pick it up the cocktail napkin sticks to the bottom?  Salt.  I asked the bartender what in the world he was doing.  Aubrey said, “You grind salt onto the napkin before you set the glass down.  Then the napkin doesn’t stick to your glass.  I just hate that!”  It works!  I’ve been doing it ever since!

The road south to Carrabelle, FL was very skinny and bumpy.  So skinny that it was difficult to stay on the pavement if a vehicle was coming from the other way.  My nerves were shredded after a while and I turned the wheel over to Rob.  I just couldn’t take any more.  The road passed through miles of devastated forests of broken trees and waves of trees that were bent over never to recover.  At last, it looked like the forests were giving way to clearings and finally, we saw the water, the gulf coast.  Ah, home at last!

There's Noobee!

We are parked facing the gulf ocean.  At high tide, the water is about 10 feet from Noobee.  Pelicans are dive bombing for fish.  Sandpipers and egrets wade up and down the beach searching for snacks.  Great big fish jump up out of the water.  The breeze off the water is a blessing because the humidity is oppressive, today topping off at 93%.  Yes, this makes the napkin stick to the bottom of your beer glass.  No alligators live here that I know of but Rob says to be on the lookout because, he warns, you can only see their eyes.  If I can see their eyes, I am way too fucking close.  One of my preferred ways not to die is by being eaten by 
an alligator.  Sharks are up there, too.

High tide (morning)

Low tide (evening)

Sir Pelican

Little Miss Piper

Englebert the Egret

The buildings that survive tropical storms and hurricanes have a narrow profile.  The Crooked River Lighthouse is one such structure.  The small diameter 103 ft. tall tower in the middle has 138 steps that one can climb to the top where it is probably 115F.  “One” is not me.  Not Rob, either.  The outside trusswork gives the lighthouse stability and it stands today where it was originally built in 1895.  The Cape St. George Light was not so fortunate.  Having a much larger profile and subject to shifting foundations due to wave action, the light began to list.  It was shored up by engineers but continued wave action at last caused the collapse of the light in 2005, 153 years after its construction.  The local volunteers salvaged every piece, cleaned each brick and reassembled the light on more stable ground.  It is a relatively short, squatty light, 72 ft. tall.  (Some of the tallest lights in the US stand as high as 190-200 ft.)

Crooked River Light

St George Light (then)

St. George Light (now)

St. George Light alist 7.5 deg.

Ocean - 1, St. George Light - 0

Hurricane Michael came ashore here on Oct. 8, 2018.  It was a Class 5 and did severe damage to the trees, shoreline, homes and villages along this coastal region.  The damage is still evident as the locals continue to shovel out the debris and sand to rebuild.  They reason that Michael was the worst storm to hit in 27 years so they’re safe, now.  A common construction method is to build houses up on stilts.  Some are concrete, some are logs.  The stilts are often taller than the house they support although some support 3-story structures.  The area of the contiguous USA terra firma is roughly 3M sq. mi. and yet, there are those who say, “Nope, I want to live in a house on stilts as far out in the water as possible in Hurricane Land.”  The stilts are meant to reduce profile and provide stability against the ravages of violent seas and storms.  Effective?  Every other house here has a “for sale” sign on it.  You be the judge.

House on stilts that
didn't fare so well

Another house on stilts

House that used to be on stilts.
Stilts are to the right,
remains of the house to the left.