How to Win Friends and Alienate People with Sand Flea Knowledge

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As you know, we survived the Great Vicious Fish Attack of 2012, but I have more to share with y'all from that Sarasota, Florida trip. And no, it's not pictures of me in a bikini, I won't traumatize you with that image. Just picture a pasty Shamu in hot pink and you'll have an idea.

The Tumbleweed's beach ride, Mr. Blue.

After Himself saved the toadfish from certain death by herding it away from the crushing waves, we had to amuse ourselves on the beach while the vindictive toadfish went back to be among his/her own kind.

Normal people would have walked the beach, but that's too much like exercise for me, so we did what we always do: dug holes in the sand.

I don't know what it is about digging in the sand, but I find it very relaxing.

We were at Turtle Beach, where the shore is coarse and not "sandy" at all. A close look at a handful reveals gazillions of small, various colored shells.

But less than 10 miles up the coast, on the north end of the same key, the sand is totally different. There, on Siesta Beach, the sand is pure white and powdery. A fact that the city never tires of touting.

I like the rough feel of the sand at Turtle Beach better and it's also less crowded and has vindictive fish and stuff, so that's where we go.

As Himself and I were busy digging holes, we found another creature to torture play with; sand crabs, aka sand fleas.

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I didn't take the pictures of these fellas because neither I nor Himself wanted to quit digging for them, wipe off our hands, and fish the camera out of the bag. We were having too much fun catching them. (Yes we have the maturity of 11 year-olds.)

Sand fleas burrow just under the sand and they do it very quickly. They're fun to catch and their little feet tickle when they crawl around in your hands.

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Sand fleas don't bite and have no claws. That pointy thing on its underside isn't used for digging either, it's used to protect its tender belly and as an anchor while feeding. It's called a telsor and on the female it also hides her eggs.

And now you can alienate impess your friends and co-workers with a bit of useless knowledge; why not try to work telsor in a conversation today?

The Great Vicious Fish Attack of 2012

Himself in the distance,
before the vicious attack.

It was The Great Vicious Fish Attack of 2012, a day which will live in infamy. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Ask not for whom the bell tolls and call me Ishmael.

To be fair, if the fish were telling his side of the story, it would be The Great Vicious Human Attack of 2012, but it's not my fault fish have no internet access. Or fingers.

Himself and I were swimming around innocently in the Gulf of Mexico in Sarasota, Florida. Which is not Mexico, just to be clear.

We were still close to shore, relishing the after shock of cold water as it began to feel warm and embracing. As I swam out further, I looked back at Himself and saw him standing in about 5 feet of water, holding something under the surface.

Me: "Did you just catch a fish with your hands?"

I have to admit, I felt a rush of love and pride for Himself and his manliness at that moment. The primal part of my brain kicked in and I felt pretty satisfied that I had picked such a mighty hunter and good mate. I wanted to bear his children.

I swam over to him as he held up a dark, wriggly thing out of the water, then threw it back in.

Himself: "Ow! It bit me!"

Maybe it was a good idea to remain childless.

Me: "What was it?"

Himself: "Some kind of vicious fish. It bit me!"

It was swimming slowly in circles in front of us, unperturbed by our presence and kind of confused looking.

Me: "Did it have teeth? Let me see your hand."

There were no marks on his hand. He said the bite felt more like pressure than anything sharp. But vicious pressure.

We looked back at the fish for a closer look and now he didn't seem confused; he was swimming with purpose toward Himself. The vicious fish was about 5 feet inches long, with a kind of flat, wide head and skinny eel-like tail.

He poked his head out of the water and swam right at Himself, like he wanted revenge. Himself danced out of his way and I swam back to shore to get the camera.

At this point you may be thinking I'm cold-hearted to leave Himself in danger while I went to get the tools to document his disembowelment. But even though the fish was obviously targeting Himself, he was doing it slowly. And I still had confidence in Himself's manliness, despite the fact that he screamed like a girl when he got bit.

Plus, I knew it would make a great blog post.

And he was the cutest vicious fish I had ever seen! With little round, tiger-striped eyes and a wispy beard, sticking his head out of the water as if to get a closer look at his prey.

I wanted to video it, but the camera isn't waterproof and the waves were splashing up, so I snapped a few shots, swam back to shore and put it up and ran back to the water.

Himself had led it toward the beach and the waves pushed the fish onto the sand.

Me: "You can't leave him there, he'll die!"

Himself: "He bit me!"

Me: *evil stare*

Himself: "Oh, all right."

Himself waited for the next wave to come over the beached, flopping fish and then pushed it towards the open water, while it was still disoriented. Then we got out of the water before the fish could get his bearings and lock onto Himself again, ready for mortal combat.

*****

The vicious fish that Himself fought with mightily, is a Gulf Toadfish. Male toadfish have special swim bladder muscles that are used to make noises (like a toad) to attract a mate. Ours didn't make any noise. Himself most likely was attacked by a girl toadfish.

 A vicious one.

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Snuggie™ Sand Sculpting and Some Florida Facts

As you know from my last post, the Tumbleweeds were in Florida recently.  

My Wyoming friends roll their eyes when I tell them how hot it is in Florida and I can't blame them, really. It has been know to snow in June in Wyoming, but I just can't abide the heat. And the humidity is so thick and heavy, it's like wearing a hot wet Snuggie™ around your head. And arms because Snuggies™ have sleeves.

It wasn't as hot as it could have been and we did get to have our own bathroom.  For several days. *squeal*

Sarasota is on the west coast of Florida, south of Tampa and is home to the Ringling Bros. Circus, tons of old people and Siesta Key, a barrier island known for its powdery white sand.

We were there during the World Championship Sand Sculpting Event but only saw them from a distance, outside of the the roped off area because; A: we ran out of gas in the parking lot while waiting in line to find a spot among the 13.7 million other people waiting to find a spot, B: we got sidetracked with a couple who had a Boxer almost as cute as Jas, and 3: we didn't pay the $5 to get in closer because there was only 15 minutes left before they shut it down.

And Jeopardy was coming on soon. Shut up, we don't get to watch tv that often.

If you want to see them go here. The sand is so fine it feels like powdered sugar and they really did some cool things with it.

This is not a sand sculpture. Unless by
sand sculpture you mean sand that
has been walked on by a bunch
of people who should not
wear bikinis.

I joke about there being a lot of old people in Florida because it's one of those stereotypes that are true, but it's true only for the lower half of Florida.

Northern Florida has winter, working people, and southern accents. There are beaches and the summer and spring are hot, but it's not the Florida that you're most likely to see on tv or in movies.

Orlando, in the middle of the state, is the armpit dividing point. Anywhere south of there is more made-for-tv Florida: retirees, bright colors, banana trees, and Yankee accents. 

If I weren't such a pansy about the heat, I would extol the virtues of all the different kinds of Florida there are.  It would be an awesome state if not for that water-boarding Snuggie™ of heat oppression.

I don't want to end on a negative so I leave you with the following pictures guaranteed to make you happy, especially if you like sharks or hot dogs. And really, who doesn't?

Just a little Florida landscaping
in the neighborhood.
Jaws cruising along crushed
glass and seashells.

Deep fried hot dog at The Old Salty Dog.
A dog friendly place on Siesta Key.
Well, not friendly to hot dogs, obviously.

Don't say you've never wished this would
happen to that RV in front of you
on the highway.

A Tumbleweed Holiday

Last week the Tumbleweeds were off the road and out of the truck. We spent a few days with family in Sarasota, where we swam right after eating during a tornado because we're rebels like that. We had our own bathroom and we saw lots of old people, but not in our bathroom. That's just creepy.

Turtle Beach on Siesta Key

Sarasota, Florida has more old people per square mile than anywhere on Earth. Restaurants are crowded at 4pm and if you come here during Snow Bird Season, any point between Labor Day and Easter, you will hear more wise-guy accents than in Jersey or Brooklyn. No one is from Sarasota; to move here you need to have lived in the North East or at least been an extra on the Sopranos. I think it's a law.

The sand here is very shell-y and coarse while just a couple of miles north the sand is powdery and white. The white sand is soft and cool but the Tumbleweeds like the rough, scratchy feel of the shells on our feet.

It was a beautiful stormy day, my favorite time to be at the beach. Just up the coast they were having tornado warnings, but here it just made lovely clouds and kept away the crowds.

Himself and Mr. Blue. The bus has been in the family
since 1978 and is all original.

Great Blue Heron giving me the beady eye.

These birds stand guard all along the beach and will let you get quite close before taking off. 

The other bird that is common here is the Snow Bird. They arrive in great swarms during the winter months, drive their Buicks 20 mph under the speed limit, make left turns from the right lane and wear sweaters when the temperature dips below 80 degrees.

Tumbleweed Toes

Bird Toes

Himself and a Great Blue Heron in a staring contest.
Do not engage in a staring contest
with a Snow Bird. They will
call the police.