Day 4 - The Twilight Zone by Pam

On the morning of our 4th day, our vented loop arrived and Rich installed it in a jiffy, during which we had our morning coffee before shoving off.
We opted to take the “route less traveled” (at least for boats our size) up the ICW to the Apalachicola River and then on to the bay where it would dump us out on the first leg of our journey across the Gulf of Mexico. Traversing this stretch of waters looked more like kayaking grounds but made for a pleasant cruise until we got to the John Gorrie Memorial Bridge at the entrance to the bay. Our navigational sources indicated a bridge height of 65 feet. Past experiences have taught us to be cautious of bridges you are not familiar with because they can fall shy of their published heights and only have full vertical clearance at low tide. And sure enough, upon our approach, a quick check with our binoculars revealed that we only had a little more than 62 feet, maybe 63 at best. According to specs we believed to be accurate, our Tayana 42 has a mast height of 62 feet. We just could not risk hitting the bridge and backed off.
Adjacent to the bridge is the city dock of Apalachicola. We tied up there and got off the boat to ponder our dilemma. We looked up the tide information and found out that low tide was at midnight, and it was currently about 5:30pm. After some further study, we determined that although the tide would be starting back in, if we got up and left at 4am the water would still be a full foot or more lower than it was right then and we were confident we could clear the bridge. So we decided to spend the night. That’s when we entered The Twilight Zone….
Apalachicola is a strangely sleepy little town. First we walked down the dock to inquire of some shrimp boats (which were the only boats there) if it was OK for us to dock there for the night. They said yes, in fact, the city of Apalachicola would allow you to do so for up to a week. Huh? Prime dock space for up to a week, for free?
The town was small but it did not lack for restaurants, a bar or two, specialty shops and inns. The unusual thing was that there appeared to be nobody in them except the owners or a barkeep. There were a few locals milling about the streets, every one of them was walking a dog…The businesses were all eerily laid back, like a bygone era. There didn’t seem to be any cars on the streets. The architecture was old and the doors to all the places were propped open. Nobody cared if you walked in with your dog. We had a beer at a little bar called the Oasis which had been there since 1938. It was next to an oyster bar called “The Hole in the Wall”. We asked the barkeep if it was any good and he said yes. They were friends of his and had just brought back some crawfish from New Orleans. So we went over there and the owners were the only ones there, sitting on the porch drinking wine with their friends. They said sorry they were closed for the day (it was only 7:30pm!)…but to go over a couple streets to another place they called by name. It was strange. Everyone knew everyone else and every place else in the town. We walked into a shop called the Apalachicola Chocolate Company, where the candy maker proprietor was sitting in a chair leaned back on two legs, again the door was propped open and there was no one inside. He engaged us in conversation about his confections, which he took very seriously. I bought some and we left.
As we walked along the streets which were deserted except for those few walking their dogs, it occurred to me that their appeared to be nothing to support the economy of this town. It was like a Norman Rockwell façade. It was a pleasant relaxing feeling that made you want to stay in this dream world.
We ambled back to the boat and set our alarm for 4am, and when Twilight came, we left the Zone, but vowed to come back to the city dock of this enchanted little town called Apalachicola….