Nauticus

The Nauticus.

It doesn’t exist anymore. You can still go to that stretch of beach in Sunnyside just down the road from Panama City, Florida, but it was sold and razed for a couple of condos when I was in college.

It really does make it a place where only memories exist, then. And I don’t know how many memories there are. My parents began going to that stretch of beach when they were on their honeymoon, and then we began going to the Nauticus, and we just kept returning to this small little space of 14 different 1-2 bedroom units on two levels surrounding a pool and on the shoreline.

It was the perfect place to bring children. I don’t think I will be able to find a spot like this as I raise my children to love the beach. I have vague memories of the early nineties version, but then a hurricane hit and they remodeled to the beach style tile and sturdy furniture and vibrant colors that makes you think of the beach. The units all faced the pool, but you could still lay in your bed and listen to the waves at night.

Once I got old enough to always bring a book with me on vacation, I remember joining my mother in the Adirondack chairs underneath the covered deck at the seawall, feet perched on the railing, enjoying the sea breeze and a new story.

We’d always have New Orleans chicken and cantaloupe. And Cheesy fries. Every trip included going to the place that sold shrimp fresh off the boat by the pound, where they would steam it for you while you waited. The smell of Old Bay permeated the entire car on the way back to our temporary home.

We’d always make a pilgrimage to Alvin’s Island, where they sold cheap tourist trinkets and swimsuits and flotsam and jetsam, the one with the alligators you could pet and the volcano you could walk through.

We went with our cousins at first, where Julie, Will, Beth, Morgan after a little while, and I would get to figure out how to be people together. Will and I always wanted the same cereal. I always thought it was unfair that Julie never had to put as much sunscreen on as I did, nor did she ever have to wear a scratchy t-shirt on the last day in the pool, something I always had to do because I was burned.

Later, we more often went with the our family friends: my best friend Amy, her brother Albert, and Ms. Barbara. I remember the last year before college we got a henna do-it-yourself kit, and I did the designs on my arms and legs and read that people in India put the henna on their nails… I had to paint my toenails for 8 months until the burnt sienna orange grew out.

I remember children plastic barrettes in my hair when they had a brief fad period.

I remember putt-putt games and riding the strip.

I remember a family of boys all in red shorts who tried their best to impress us…

I remember breaking a glass in the shower when I was trying to rinse my hair out.

I remember taking long walks all by myself in the morning, listening to the waves and the sandpipers chase the receding water.

I remember iced coffee, mike’s hard lemonade, chocolate cake with coffee ice cream coated in caramel frosting, boiled peanuts, and tuna cones.

And I remember chance glimpses of dolphins, my favorite animals in all creation, where each encounter seemed a gift that should never be squandered.

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