Simmons Beach Access
Every beach along our shore has different merits, and I try to visit them all. Recently, for the first time in many months, I parked my car at the Simmons Road access, and even though it was only 9 a.m. on a weekday, I just managed to squeeze into the last slot. In days of old no one parked here—it was only us nearby locals. But times have changed.
When I walked down the rotting boardwalk (city officials take note) and finally got a view of the beach there were family groups, singletons, and a group taking surfing lessons. It wasn’t the solitary walk I expected from years past but it was fun in a different way. I had lots of people to interact with, my favorite occupation. Cool.
First off I chatted with a woman from Kentucky who showed me her small collection of shells and fossilized shark teeth. She and her son have made it a mission to collect these teeth from various Florida beaches, but this one was far from her favorite. Recently, she told me, they had roamed Venice Beach and collected more than a thousand teeth in a couple of days. Here, no such luck. With all the people looking for them, and all the Facebook sites promoting shark teeth collecting here, even with the massive changes from currents and tides, shark teeth seem to have gotten scarcer than hen’s teeth, as the saying goes.
Next up was an extended family digging a massive hole in the sand. When I first saw them, three very young children were encapsulated in a deep pit. “A baby trap!” I commented as I walked by, and we all laughed. When I passed them again on my way back, they had constructed three large holes, one for each child, and were waiting for the tide to fill these individual wading pools. We chatted a bit, and I mentioned the danger of open holes to sea turtles and nighttime beach walkers, and they agreed to fill them back in before they left. One hole-digger told me about a childhood episode of his where he had dug a hole, rushed to find his father to show him, and when they came back, someone had entered his hole, and someone else covered him up with sand. “Can you cover me up if I jump in?” I asked. He took a moment to consider then said, “Yes.” And I laughed and said, “No way!” and we parted chuckling. And now I knew he would cover in the holes when they left. Mission accomplished.
Along the way I watched people surfing, building sand castles, splashing in shallow water, tossing Frisbees, reading books under umbrellas, you name it. Wherever I looked, people were happily having good, clean fun. With the sun shining brightly, it was difficult for people to be stuck to their screens, and they had to deal with the real world around them. Wonderful.
When I got back to the beach near my Simmons access, I wandered over to the group of children attending the Surf Asylum day camp and talked with Betsy Harris, a lead instructor. Each camper got their chance at surfing individually with an instructor beside them in the water. The other kids, awaiting their turn, seemed to be having just as much fun. They were equipped with dip nets and were swiping these through the sand and shallow water collecting anything they could. Their precious finds were deposited in a large basin filled with seawater, and the instructors taught the kids some biology about the creatures they found that day. This day, sand fleas, those small armored crabs that dig in the sand, seemed to be the primary find. But over the weeks they have found many other critters to inspect before their surfing time, a great nature lesson for sure.
It was time for me to leave the beach. It was getting way too hot to be strolling around in the sun. But my fun wasn’t over yet. On the way back up the decrepit boardwalk I spied a large gopher tortoise basking in the sun in front of its burrow underneath some blooming gaillardia bushes ready to spread their seeds. It was a perfect end for a wonderful beach walk. We are indeed blessed to call Amelia Island home.
Pat Foster-Turley, Ph.D., is a zoologist on Amelia Island. She welcomes your nature questions and observations. [email protected]
