I’m not sure where the rest of you live, but from where I’m standing, my friends and I are taking this thing very, very seriously. I live on the Gulf coast near St. Petersburg, Fla. The Coast Guard here has reserved booms to block the entrance to Tampa Bay, the 7th busiest port in the US and one hell of an important fish and wildlife estuary. I’m not sure what other city, county, state and federal agencies are up to.
I hang at a coffee house that has a pretty solid clientele. We’ve been together for years, doing art, promoting one cause or another. On Sunday, 23 of us got together, went to one of the old hotels on the beach and had The Last Seafood Supper that we expect to be able to afford for a long, long time. One of us gave a poignant eulogy to set the tone as we toasted what we believe to be one of our last great sunsets on this white sugar sand beach. We then emptied our accounts in a 6-hour bacchanal of local seafood and wine and talked about what it was like to come of age here—catching our first big fish, learning to surf during a nasty off-shore blow, our first free dive, chumming for hammerheads as teens in the Southwest Pass, quietly sailing offshore under the stars on a moonless night with a bright electric blue effervescent trail for a wake and bow wave, exploring and camping on the out-islands, boating and fishing in the afternoons after school, clumsy adolescent groping in the sand under a sultry moon.
We went from sad to pissed off, pissed off to sad, weary, mournful, and in the end, determined to do something. Real Kubler-Ross shit lubricated amply with Veuve Clicquot. The waiting staff joined us in some of our toasts—they know their jobs are gone when this thing gets here. Many of us know what’s coming—we’ve seen it on a smaller scale in other spills.
On Monday we and many more friends signed up as volunteers with the Suncoast Seabird Sanctuary, Mote Marine Labs, Clearwater Marine Aquarium, Tampa Bay Marine Institute, Save the Bay, and many other orgs that have been around here for a long time protecting our most important resource. These orgs report that calls from people wanting to take part in this is unprecedented and are organizing to meet the challenge.
It’s not much against something this big, and it’s only a local effort, but we decided at that dinner that we really like our local bounty and we wouldn’t let this habitat go down without a fight. We’ll attempt to rake and shovel this shit off our beaches, blockade as many wet lands, estuaries, bayous and bays as possible, clean off and protect as much wildlife as we can, and generally help wherever, whenever we’re needed. This is huge. I don’t think the US has seen anything like it before. We may lose the Gulfcoast as habitat, as a tourist economy, as a food source for at least a generation. But we have vowed to do something rather than just sit and watch this shit roll in and smother our shores in stinking tar, kill off our beaches, our wildlife, our goodtimes and our livelihoods.