Cottage on Little Gasparilla Island
The lulling sounds of Robert Plant (Led Zepplin) singing the lyrics to going to California…with an aching in my heart… took on a new meaning when my 13 year-old son changed them to reflect our travels to a remote Florida island for spring break last year. As we headed south on I-75, along with thousands of other Spring Breakers, the humming became…going to Gasparilla with a skimboard in the car…
Room to roam…
Having never been to this particular beach locale, we were not sure what we might find. We found exactly what we needed. The island turned out to be the kind of freedom we rarely experience in our lives filled with church, school, band, soccer, hockey, swim team and other assorted activities that take up the majority of our time. An island, only accessible by boat and without any commercial offerings besides housing sounded just like a dream. We were not sure it could exist; much like that Led Zepplin song we had parodied…perhaps it was just a mountain of dreams or, in our case, a beach of our dreams.
We explored the docks while we waited for our ferry ride from the mainland. Once on board, the wind began to blow turning our hair into the fluffy, wild curls that only show up at the beach. Relaxation set in and by the time we had crossed the bay; we had seen a shark, several varieties of shore birds and enough fish to make the youngest hanker for a fishing pole right then and there.
Beach Balls…
Our condo was clean and decorated with tasteful beach decor. A fully-stocked kitchen, compact washer/dryer, screened porch and comfy beds made the trip more than well worth it. We had not even seen the beach.
We set off down the sandy road to the beach and arrived in just 2 minutes with our boards ready. Skim boards, wake boards and castle-building necessities made the trip in our trusty old “beach buddy” with rusting wheels and duct-taped handle which we see as a sign that we are true beach veterans. A short trip over a protective boardwalk revealed sea oats that gave way to a vast expanse of glittering sand upon which the best of waves were breaking-just perfect for boards of all sorts.
At the end of the day…
The week was spent allowing boys to be boys. They could roam the island without worrying about traffic or too much humanity. Our biggest fears were the slithering kind of which we only saw one-the good kind…a big, black rodent-eater. The boys surfed, built castles, cooked dinner, read books, sat, slept and did just about nothing connected to our very busy daily lives. It was a dream come true which made life at home, well…not as hard, hard, hard as it seems…la la la la…
FreelanceBeth 