Deserted

The habit here is bare feet on most days. That means that once in a while there’s a chance of making a wrong step and coming down on a broken shell or something else with sharp edges. Grass around here has on the other hand always been a soft and cushy surface without threat. So I felt safe puttering around barefoot in the grass yesterday and didn’t expect the knife-like stab that surprised me. After I stopped hopping about on one leg howling a bad word or two I tried to find the something that stuck me, but it was either gone or well camouflaged. Well, it left me with a very tender foot and slight limp which has carried into today and required all-day shoes and socks to cushion the sore spot on my foot. In spite of the soreness, sitting around moaning about it didn’t work. A walk on the beach was deemed the best thing for it.

With the coming of May the scene here has gone through another radical shift, and to my eyes a welcome one. For much of the week the beach is deserted, leaving wind and water to erase the marks left by beach parties, the birds to pass their days unmolested, and for a few weeks the natural scene to slip back into what it has always been without human interference. The photos here show a few of the colors along an undisturbed beach.

Here the brown sand contrasts with pale blue sky and silvery water, puffy clouds and flattened beach.

Cloudiness and threat of rain worked interesting changes, altering light and shadow at a moment’s notice.

A second shot from the same stretch of beach seen through a different filter.

Here is a look at a starfish washed up in the surf. It was still alive in this photo but for whatever reasons would not swim out into deeper water. I made an effort to return it to safer water but the surf brought it back two or three times. It made small movements in my hand but was clearly in a weakened conditioned.

Here’s a view from the patio, and apart from ocean and sky a good look at the grass that stabbed my foot unexpectedly yesterday. The palm tree is fresh from a trim with all its fronds standing tall.

Free 2Nite

Obvious now that summer is on its way to the beach. Southern winds are blowing in signs of warmer air, greener water, cumulous clouds adrift on pale blue skies. It’s in the air and upon every leaf, in every greeny tumble of surf and everymornings of pale blue air. A plane flies over the coastline pulling a long banner with the words, LADIES DRINK FREE 2NITE PUB 44 N SMYRNA BEACH. The long strip of beautiful local beach is seeing more footprints and the honky-tonks are heatin’ up downtown. “Summertime and the livin’ is easy…” The words could be about summer in NSB.

Four and five times a day someone walks past tossing off the often repeated, ‘Beautiful day, isn’t it?’ I have all the appreciation in the world for the climate here, but it’s hard not to take it for granted. My unspoken answer to those ‘beautiful-day-isn’t-it’ greetings is commonly “When is it not?” Probably sounds offhand but living along this particular beach is for sure a true blessing.

On an early afternoon walk the sand just above the surf line is a hard-packed wet cardboard brown. A little more traffic on the beach this Saturday but not anything that says crowded. Walking is a mind-free business, on and off the almost warm surf splashes up my ankles, raising the thought of going for a swim. The lifeguard’s chair a hundred feet back had a sign saying that ocean water temperature is 70°. Probably a little cold for us timid bathers but the water seems fine for the hundred or so bouncing on waves. Swimming season is upon us, each day closer to perfect.

I pass some time on the patio with a couple of friends fresh from their beachcomber chores. The haul today was a tiny plastic toy soldier, heaved across the waves from who knows where. That little soldier now drafted into duty stands guard for Clarisse, a faded-pink metal flamingo perched on the patio. Poor old Clarisse. She’s another story.

Azalea Bloom!

I am privileged to offer a guest post from a very good friend, one who has given me hours of delightful and stimulating company. Knowing that Kathleen writes, I threw out a hint wondering if she might want to scribble up something I could share with readers here. Not too much later I got this engaging story about the joys of life in two small Florida towns.

Hi! My name is Kathleen and B has graciously asked me to write a guest post here on Scriblets. My husband and I also share B’s love of the seashore, especially the small seaside town of New Smyrna Beach. We are not full-time residents, however. We split our retirement between New Smyrna and DeLand. It’s only about thirty-eight miles—a mere forty minute ride between—but the two towns are worlds apart.

DeLand is a lovely, historic, Main Street USA town—home to Stetson University, the Athens Theatre, the Museum of Florida Art, as well as Skydive DeLand, one of the world’s leading skydive centers located at our municipal airport. During WWII, the Navy built the property as a naval airbase, later turning it over to the city. DeLand is also the county seat of Volusia County, Florida with an estimated population in excess of 25,000.

After an exhaustive twenty-year search for just the right spot, we came across this little piece of heaven which we have fondly named Southern Oaks, honoring the hundreds of magnificent Live and Laurel oak trees that adorn the acreage. We have never regretted our move and are still enjoying every inch of it. Right now, Southern Oaks, as well as the entire town of DeLand, is experiencing one of its most beautiful seasons—Azalea bloom! While the ocean and all its majesty is difficult to compete with, Azalea bloom is one of God’s most dramatic exhibitions. It’s brief and magnificent and a must-see.

Azaleas are cold-hardy flowering shrubs rarely found along coastal areas. They especially love shade from oak trees and are not tolerant of salt air or salty well water. They create a dazzling display of springtime color here at Southern Oaks and are one of our main reasons for being in DeLand this week.

Southern Oaks is a 2.5 acre work in progress. There are vegetable and herb gardens to tend; a plentiful array of citrus trees; a small vineyard and a large assortment of flowering shrubs and roses—not to mention a variety of out-buildings constantly demanding with their needs and our wants. It requires a significant amount of planning and energy and real hands-on work to keep it up, but we truly love every minute (well almost every minute). However, aging joints, a dwindling supply of vitality and basic get-up-and-go tend to slow us down more quickly than they once did. It’s then that we close up the house, set the timers to auto, and head to our cozy beach retreat.

And it’s exactly that—a retreat. It’s a sanctuary, a place of beauty, a safe harbor in a busy world, our refuge where we can go to renew ourselves and our well of vitality and energy. We spend our days watching the pelicans swoop and play atop the waves and plan our walks according to tidal whims. There is a timelessness that envelops us and a relaxation that truly soothes aching muscles and calms scattered thoughts. We are truly blessed with the best of both worlds!

The Price of Sugar

Friday was a beautiful day and perfect for part two of my swim in the history of this little beach town sixty-eight miles south of St Augustine, Florida, America’s oldest settlement. Last month the Scriblets pages included my impressions of the New Smyrna Beach Historical Museum, a small but richly endowed re-creation of the city’s past. While visiting the museum I learned about the ruins of an old sugar mill only a couple of miles away and made a note to visit the site. What a find that turned out to be.

On his second voyage to the New World Christopher Columbus carried sugarcane from Europe, introducing it to the island just south of Florida, which they called Hispaniola and we call the Dominican Republic and Haiti. Not long after that it was shipped to Florida for cultivation. Sugar is a work heavy crop and the need for labor is a big reason slavery became important on Florida plantations. To produce just one ton of sugar a plantation had to grow and crush seven tons of sugarcane. The labor involved required large work crews.

From the latter years of the eighteenth century until 1835, Florida’s sugar industry was concentrated in east Florida, on land between the St Johns River and the Atlantic. By the 1830s there were no fewer than twenty-two sugar plantations along the coastline producing sugar, molasses, and rum. The sugar industry brought prosperity to the region, employing the skills of farmhands, architects, stonemasons, riverboat crews, shopkeepers, and traders. Of course, African slaves provided the backbreaking labor, and that too was another form of economy. It all ended with the outbreak of the Second Seminole War in 1835. The Indians were revolting against US policies that would remove them from their homelands to land in the Oklahoma territories. They had a devastating effect on the plantations.

In 1830, Henry Cruger and William dePeyster purchased 600 acres to build a sugar mill. The land had originally been part of the Turnbull grant which led to the planting of a 1,255 strong Smyrnéa colony. Using the land as collateral, Cruger and dePeyster secured a $10,000 loan for the purchase of steam equipment from a New York foundry. But their venture was ill-timed. After only five years the sugar mill was destroyed by the warring Seminole Indians. Today the beautiful arched walls remain to give a glimpse of early American industry and the struggles two pioneering businessmen faced.

The ruins in New Smyrna are surrounded by lush green that includes oak, palmetto and tangerine trees. One historical marker on the site explains, “The mill had little time to produce sugar or repay investors before it was wrecked by the Seminoles. In December 1835, the Indians ran off the overseer, burned the complex, and destroyed other plantations throughout the region. Helping the Indians stage the raids were Cruger-dePeyster slaves.”

Before Surfboards & Bikinis

Disappointed by the locked doors on Monday, Tuesday afternoon was set aside for the small but surprisingly good New Smyrna Beach Historical Museum. The museum is located in the historic district, on Sams Avenue, just off Canal, the main street. The top photograph on the right is a look at the corner of Canal and Sams Avenue at some time in the 1930s. The museum is a hundred feet off the right edge of the photo. The store on the corner is now a restaurant called Jason’s Corner Restaurant and where I had lunch before going to the museum. The best thing about Jason’s? The outside table on Canal Street. The club sandwich was nothing more than an ordinary halved ham & swiss on rye with a tiny bag of potato chips and a Beverly Hills price tag. I asked the waitress about the photo on the menu (same photo on the right) and she said, “I think it’s old.”

The Historical Museum building (second on the right) dates from 1872, was the first public school in New Smyrna Beach and cost $42 to build. The outside appearance is deceptive. Nothing from the exterior gives any clue to the richness of the collection inside. Yes, it is small but not one foot of its space is wasted. For any visitor patient enough to look closely at the exhibits, the result is an excellent overview of the city’s history, its founding and its early years. The volunteers on duty are very knowledgeable and eager to answer questions.

In April of last year I wrote a few lines about the history of New Smyrna Beach and it’s too bad I didn’t know then what I learned today. Some of those earlier remarks could use a dash of correction fluid. To my own loss it wasn’t until recently that I learned about the city’s historical museum.

During the eighteenth century years of empire building, Spain and Britain agreed to exchange parts of their New World holdings, and in 1763 Cuba went to Spain while Britain got Florida. Dr Andrew Turnbull, a Scottish doctor and at one time British Consul to the city of Smyrna, Greece (now Izmir, Turkey) knew that the British crown sought to plant colonies in the newly acquired Florida territory and so developed a plan to take European settlers to the area. Planning, negotiation, and gathering enough capital took time, but by 1763 he had received for his project a 60,000 acre land grant on the east coast of Florida, had procured eight ships, 1,400 indentured servant-colonists and the minimum stocks needed to seed a colony in Florida.

It was a plan grander by far than any previous British attempts and everyone involved had high hopes. The settlers were contracted to labor until the colony became profitable, at which point they would be given land in Florida. They came mostly from the Mediterranean island of Minorca, but also from Italy, Greece, Spain and Corsica. The colony was established and named Smyrnéa after the home of Turnbull’s wife and site of his former consulship, Smyrna, Greece. It was to be an agricultural colony, the main crop being indigo (photo at the right). This became a profitable export, with two or three harvestings a year. Unfortunately for the settlers and for Dr Turnbull, an artificial form of blue dye was on the horizon. But the beginning was profitable and the colonists were optimistic.

In time drought and disease began to badly tax the settlement and discontent became commonplace among the increasingly hungry people. Dr Turnbull and his investors were primarily businessmen and the loses began to weigh heavily. The colonists felt used and tied to an indenture that promised no end. By 1777 the Smyrnéa colony had reached an end. The American Revolution combined with drought years, disease and discontent finally brought the venture to its knees.

For the next 100 years the area was controlled for the most part by native Indians. In 1887 the town of New Smyrna was incorporated. The population was 150.

Most visitors to the city these days are here for the beach, the fishing and the scenic beauty of those beaches. I have a friend coming to visit soon from Japan. One of the must-see places during that time will be the New Smyrna Beach Historical Museum.

120 Sams Avenue, New Smyrna Beach • Tuesday-Saturday 10:00-4:00 p.m.

Beachtown

Had an errand to run in beachtown today, and since it was around one o'clock, decided to stop for lunch at one of the landmark restaurants on Flagler Avenue. Flagler is a narrow sandy street with a starting point at just about the easternmost point of Florida, almost as though the street rises up out of the Atlantic surf. Not a long street, it runs due west for no more than half a mile from ocean to Intercoastal Waterway. It is a quaint, picturesque street pleasant to stroll along, lined with all the shops you would expect in a beachtown. Bars, restaurants, surf shop, bike shop, souvenir and pottery shops, ice cream stand, a couple of art stores, and small versions of post office, hair salon and greenery shop. Traffic is rarely so heavy that sightseers and locals can’t wander freely from side to side, and those cars, motorcycles and skateboarders you see are all cruising at about five miles per hour. Several places on Flagler deserve a repeat visit now and then; I wrote last July about The Breakers and their super hamburgers. Another Flagler restaurant I visit about once a month is Clancy’s Cantina, an attractive and terra cotta cool spot for Mexican food. The soft tacos are terrific. Flagler also has one particular art and framing store popular with locals and visitors, Anthony Bell Creations. There must be at least five things hanging on my walls framed by Anthony Bell.

But about lunch… One of the oldest structures on Flagler Avenue is a bar and restaurant called The Flagler Tavern. The restaurant was originally a private beachhouse built in 1906. I’m not sure when the owner sold it, but it became a restaurant called The Red Rooster. Twelve years ago the present owner took it over and changed the name to The Flagler Tavern. I’ve eaten lunch there many times, mostly because I enjoy sitting on the raised veranda that overlooks the street. There was a time several years back when it had a different feel to it, and I was likely in those days to go more often than now. These days it has what feels like a different air, and more often than not I end up mumbling to myself about this or that downslide.

Before any complaints, it is only fair to say that the menu has a couple of excellent choices, one of them being the burgers. I’ve heard one or two people say that the Flagler Tavern burger is better than a burger at The Breakers. It would never occur to me to make such a comparison. I disagree with that opinion, but at the same time don’t hesitate to say that The Flagler Tavern does indeed make a good hamburger. I had a hefty bacon cheeseburger with lettuce tomato and fries today that was darn good. They also offer a tasty pasta salad that a friend of mine orders every time.

The thing is, more and more in the past year or two, service had gotten sloppy, and the crowd out on the veranda full-of-beer rowdy. Here is a line I scribbled in my journal while there today…

‘The place gets worse month by month. Sitting on the veranda overlooking Flagler Avenue, surrounded by loud, cigarette puffing people comparing their failed marriages. Just in front of my nose is mustard and ketchup, each in a plastic bottle thick with grime and street dust and encrusted with last week’s drips and dribbles.’ Before starting in on your burger—and probably a very good one—remember to wipe off the tabletop and the silverware.

For anyone who likes the loud energy, The Flagler Tavern often has live music, and my guess is the place is jumpin’ on those nights.

Blue Button

Summer was always Florida time during the last eleven years in Japan. Fortunate enough to have six weeks free in July and August, New Smyrna Beach was my longed for holiday retreat. Now, since the first of May my tag has changed from visitor to resident. Don’t ask me why, but the new ‘residential’ perspective on things is a little different. One of the differences is a sharper eye for the many creatures large and small living in this climate, this environment. Discovered numbers of these “blue button” jellyfish-lookalikes today.

I noticed wide patches of these half-dollar sized Hydrozoa washed up on the beach this morning. At first, they looked like rusted bottle caps sitting in small pools of blue-green ink. That is the appearance of the hydroids, which resemble filament-thin tentacles. Looking closely at one, poking at it, flipping it over, I figured them for a kind of jellyfish.

Porpita porpita is not one animal, but an entire colony of hydroids, classed as Hydrozoan and related to the jellyfish and corals. It lives on the surface of the sea, at the mercy of wind and tide currents. Though small, the numerous branchlets of its hydra-tentacles each end in a knob of stinging cells. Stinging cells they may be, but the science book says they do not sting, though touching them can cause skin irritation. Because of its size it is easy prey for many other kinds of sea life. Drifting passively, it feeds on both living and dead organisms it comes in contact with. It has a single mouth which is used for both the intake of nutrients and the expulsion of wastes.

I also noticed on the beach this morning, two turtle nests freshly roped off by the turtle rangers stationed up the beach. These two may be the first nests of the egg laying season. First I’ve seen anyway.

Beach Blanket Bingo

Since arriving in Florida several days ago, one thing or another has kept me in town, prevented me from driving out to the beach for so much as a look-see. The plan all along has aimed for arrival there on the 1st of May. The days prior to that are a time for handling the business of establishing new residence and ironing out the logistics concerned with setting up house. This morning I had business specific to residency, so made the fifty mile drive over to the east coast.

New Smyrna Beach…

The city is located on what has been called the “Fun Coast,” an environmentally protected stretch of beach between Daytona on the north, and the Kennedy Space Center in the south. The very first settlers arrived there in 1768, but were ultimately forced to leave because of disease and frequent raids by the Seminole Indians. The town was incorporated in 1887, and in 1947 became a city. The population in 2007 was 23,161. The city’s name is no doubt related to the fact that a number of the original settlers were natives of Smyrna, Turkey. These days, ‘Florida’s Secret Pearl’ attracts over 1,000,000 visits each year.

Today was a stunning day in New Smyrna; still too cold for ocean swimming, but comfortable on the beach, and in all four directions a treat to the eyes. I hadn’t been there since last August, and the first few breaths of cool ocean-scented air today were like a magical elixir of life. The only thing missing during my short time there this morning was a glimpse of the magnificent brown pelicans native to the area. The sight of them soaring overhead in flocks of six to ten has always lifted my heart, and I’ve passed several summer vacations enchanted day after day by their in-flight beauty

I found everything in order in the condominium, and expect it will be even shinier after the cleaners have worked their charms on Friday. By Saturday afternoon I hope to have sand between my toes, pelicans overhead and the sun’s amiable light in my pocket.