Sportsmanship

[HenryC]

For once, we had managed to assemble the whole crew in plenty of time, loaded the Pelican with camping gear for the weekend and sailed her to the key in plenty of time.   We slipped into the little anchorage at the southern end of the island, anchored securely with two hooks in a foot of water behind the mangroves and waded ashore with all our equipment.  There was still plenty of daylight when we finished securing our tents and collected the driftwood we would need for our fire that night. 

The couple with us had never been to Anclote Key before so I took them for a stroll to visit the ruins of the old lighthouse.  There had once been a fairly elaborate facility there but the light had been replaced long ago by an automated aid to navigation. The keeper's quarters and associated buildings, the water cistern and other supporting structures, were almost totally gone now, just concrete slabs and rusted metal slowly being absorbed back into the fabric of the island.  The lighthouse was still operational, an open framework of rusty steel topped by a tiny weatherproof cabin at the top.  But it was no longer tended by an on-site staff; powerful batteries at the top of the tower fueled the light and a sun-sensitive switch automatically turned it on at night and secured it at daybreak.   In a shed at the base of the tower another huge bank of batteries kept the service cells aloft fully charged through a switchbox and long cables protected by conduit.  Once a month, the Coast Guard would send a boat and the seamen would haul ashore heavy batteries to replace the ones in the shed. They would recharge the ones topside and then laboriously drag off the spent ones to their boat.  The process made it unnecessary to climb up to the top of the tower to replace the big cells so the ladder had been removed to discourage vandals.  No doubt, when it was necessary to access the light itself for maintenance, the Bo'sun's Mates would rig a temporary one. 

But there had been trouble.  It was soon clear that someone had gone to a lot of trouble to put Anclote Light out of service.  We could see immediately that it had been thoroughly and systematically sabotaged and it hadn't been mere vandals--these people had come prepared.   Bolt cutters had been used to remove the locks to the chain-link fence surrounding the structure and that secured the battery case, the switchbox  and the upper door to the light itself.   The big wet cells had been opened and rolled over and the acid spilled onto the sand, the conduit and cable severed with axes and the switchbox battered into uselessness.  Someone must have climbed up the tower supports and forced the door at the top, cut the batteries there loose, and thrown them down to shatter on the concrete slab below.  They meant not just to put the light out but to ensure it could not be repaired quickly. Curiously, the delicate lamp and Fresnel lens had not been damaged.  The rest of the day was a somber time for us, we could make no sense of this deliberate act of destruction and we talked on and off about it for hours. 

Late that afternoon, a large motor yacht anchored well offshore about a thousand yards south of the island, but we thought nothing of it.  At sunset we lit our bonfire and settled down to roast marshmallows.  We were still there late that night when we noticed the cruiser being obscured by dark shadows almost totally eclipsing its anchor lights.  A quick look through binoculars made clear what was happening.  A long procession of sailboats was approaching the yacht, momentarily winking out its lights with their sails as they passed between us.  Through the glasses we could see them glowing dimly through the sails as boat after boat sailed past it, starboard side to us, came about, and then scurried south again on the downwind run.  The ghostly procession went on all evening; it was a sailboat race and the motor yacht must have been the committee boat, making sure each racer rounded a mark invisible to us. 

Of course, a sailboat race!  The local skippers would be very familiar with these waters, they knew the huge powerplant smokestack on the mainland with it's flashing strobes would be easily visible from here and they knew exactly where it was located, on a small peninsula of land clearly marked on the chart.  The stack itself, however, was not on the chart, and the out-of-town competitors, although able to see it clearly,  would not know just where it was.  In those pre-GPS days, they would be expecting to have the lighthouse available to shoot bearings.    The local boats, and one in particular,  would have a navigational advantage that might just make a difference in a close contest; they would always know exactly where they were, and they would know exactly which one of the bobbing lights out in the dark  was their mark. 

It was a sobering thought, one of those sportsmen out there was so determined to win his pickle tray and have bragging rights at the club that he was ready to jeopardize the lives and vessels of his fellow mariners. He was lucky none of the crabbers or mullet fishermen caught him at it, they carry shotguns in their skiffs.  Of course, no one can prove that it was one of the racers who put out the light,  but as Henry David Thoreau once pointed out, "Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you find a trout in the milk."

[ka8uet]

The sailboat race you witnessed may have only been an accidental beneficiary of someone else's work.  I can't imagine a racer who would do that kind of damage just to win a race.  However, my initial thought when you mentioned the yacht was that drug smugglers would have a big advantage if the light were disabled.  Anyone attempting to interdict via boat would have to be quite cautious, and the coasties would probably not be as familiar with the waters as the locals.  Nor would the DEA. 

[HideAway]

Henry,
Not sure where to start here.  The light house was restored in 2004 with plans to have a ranger station built. There has been problems with vandals. Places like Three Rooker Bar, Anclote Key and all of the spoil islands have always been a bit to the lawless side.

Its not for lack of effort from law enforcement as the remoteness of the area.  The USCG has a huge presence in the area with a large base in St Petersburg and an airbase in Clearwater.   Hardly a day goes by that I don't see them in the sky or when I'm on the water.  In addition local and state agencies patrol the area daily.  And yes they know the waters, probably better than most of us.  The power plant is on the chart by the way.

Night sailing is common during the summer and night racing is a popular event.  In fact many sailors prefer to sail at night to avoid the heat of the day.  Even the most rabid of the racers I've met in the 25 years  I have sailed these waters would not do such a thing as you have accused them of, not to mention the cruising community.

Henry,  I think your conclusion could not be more in error and that you  owe an apology to the racing community as well as anybody who has ever sailed a boat  M

[HenryC]

No apology is necessary, because I make a speculation, not an accusation.  And should my speculation turn out to be  true, it refers to only one boat, and probably only the skipper, certainly not a tarring with the same brush of an  entire community.

As for the possibility that perhaps some super-competitive jerk was responsible for this outrage, it certainly cannot be ruled out.  I once saw a man insult and humiliate his wife in front of a room full of fellow sailors because she had allegedly made a spinnaker set error that cost him a race.  Anything is possible.

And as for the incident itself, I assure you the events as I describe them are as accurate as I can recall them from memory.  It occurred about 30 years ago when the automated light was a charted aid to navigation and the smokestack at the power plant in the Anclote River estuary was not yet on the large-scale chart of the area ("Anclote Anchorage to St. Joseph's Sound", if I recall correctly).  Although I no longer live there, I am a Tampa native and I sailed those particular waters almost every week for about 5 years; I loved them deeply and knew them intimately.

There was a strong Coast Guard presence in the area, and they were as professional and conscientious then as I'm sure  they are today, but they cannot be everywhere all the time.  It is true, in those days, smuggling was a much bigger problem than it is today, but knocking out the light would not have been a handicap to anyone except someone not familiar with those waters.

My remarks stand.

Henry Cordova

[B.Hart]

  I was in the  USCG, and stationed at ANT St.Pete in 1979 and 80.  seems back then vandalism was the normal reason for us to visit the light.    BILL

[HenryC]

I hope my remarks about vandalism at the Anclote light did not offend anyone, especially on this forum. You folks have been very hospitable and helpful to me, and I do feel I am just a visitor, an outsider, here since I don't even own a Com-Pac.  I simply wrote that essay many years ago as a general observation, it's been lying in my archives for a while until I shared it with you.  I realize now that without the word "Anclote", it wouldn't even have been possible to trace to a particular geographical location.

It was just one of those things that really got to me at the time, and it still bothers me after all these years.

[Mike H.]

Hello Henry...

Speaking for myself I took no offense to your article at all. I didn't really agree with your possible conclusion that one of the sailboats involved may have destroyed the light, but like you said, you never know.  I enjoyed reading it and hope you present more articles and adventures to read & ponder.  As for not sailing a Compac I have to question your judgement somewhat.....  OKAY, totally kidding about that part.  I say Welcome to all...

Cheers,
Mike

[B.Hart]

  Hi Henry, I was not offended, but I don't believe that the people that use the light would destroy it. From what I have seen it was done by party goers and souvenir takers. BTY I enjoyed the article on the cp19 in gob.   BILL