Home  Back

Searching for Crooked Island
Cruising the shallow waters of Florida’s Emerald Coast (page 3)

Though it’s a weekday afternoon, the regulars are already gathered at the marina’s open-air Dock ’O the Bay Bar, where for $12 you can select a thick, marinated steak from the refrigerator and grill it yourself out back, while the bartender rustles up a baked potato and chunk of bread.

At dark, the rustic watering hole’s neon roof trim reflects off the water and the blues emanate from the small dance floor. Our boat creaks contentedly as we play cards and talk about how lucky we are to be here. We’re getting into the rhythm of life aboard – wake to the sun and fresh-perked coffee, outdoors most of the day, bathing suits and bare feet and sand between our toes, sleep by the moon, lulled by the lapping of water against the hull.

In the morning I square away the dockage bill while Christine sunbathes beside the pool of the Leeside Motel, which is part of the marina operation. Later we cross the road to the famously white sand beaches of Fort Walton where the water is lukewarm, the greenish surf chest high as we take our first saltwater plunge. Hundreds of people are sprawled on blankets, wading, playing Frisbee and tossing balls.

The sun is intense as we broad reach for Choctawhatchee Bay where sailboats are moving in all directions.

Dawn fog shrouds the catamaran cockpit but we can hear big boat engines idling as the sportfishers and head boats inhale their passengers. We rock in their wake, choosing not to depart until the fog lifts and it’s clear enough to safely navigate the inlet.

The wind is northwest so the catamaran leaps into motion and we spend 10 hours sailing toward the entrance to St. Andrew Bay. It’s pure joy. The swells are 3-4 feet and the boat shudders whenever a wave smacks between the pontoons. We stay about four miles offshore and eventually can see the abbreviated strip of high-rise hotels and condos at Panama City Beach, which has gained recent reputation as a college spring break destination.

Pushing on, the tall buildings fade into the distance and soon we’re passing the outer entrance buoy to St. Andrew Bay.

Outside in the Gulf

Knowing we’ll need a full day to sail outside in the Gulf to Panama City, we leisurely depart in the morning for Destin, a resort and sportfishing community at the southerly end of Choctawhatchee Bay. Passing beneath the 50-foot Destin Bridge, we struggle briefly with the stiff current rushing through East Pass Inlet, an artificial cut that provides access to the Gulf. Guided by local knowledge, we tuck into a deep protected anchorage behind the barrier dunes just beyond the bridge. A dozen other cruising boats are already anchored in the middle but there’s plenty of swing room. Every inch of the shore is packed with townhouses, condos, marinas, stores, restaurants, nightclubs and docks. Destin is clearly a partying town.

We scout the docks for a spot to tie up the inflatable, then linger over superb Taiwanese food at Ms. Chen’s.

Stern-anchored a few feet off the beach, we pack a supper, hike across the 10-foot high dunes to the Gulf and there, with miles of sand entirely to ourselves, swim and collect shells until the sun sets in a theatrical display of red, orange, pink and purple. We remind the kids that this isn’t Disney World, some paper-mache exhibit called Dunescape with a $32.50 admission ticket. It’s the real deal, and while it took some doing to get here, the payoff is all around. Shell Island is a treasure. The fine sand squeaks beneath our bare feet. Hordes of crabs skitter in the tide zone, avoiding sharp-eyed heron on stilt legs whose lightning reflexes deliver small silvery fish to their beaks. Two days blissfully elapse as we explore the beaches and generally do nothing, which is a key item on our list of things to do.

Back to Charters     Continue Reading Article