Page 50 of Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

“Did you get a blanket?” I ask her.

“Oh, right.”

She runs to the laundry room, where Camille keeps beach blankets and towels, and returns with the largest one she could find.

“Alright.” I look at Sophie as she stands. “You ready?”

“Sure.” She grins.

Vivi takes off for the garage, and the two of us follow. It’s not a quick walk to the Point, so we load up onto the golf cart and head out. There are hardly any clouds out tonight, making it perfect to see the stars.

Bean Point is the northernmost tip of Anna Maria Island. It’s where Tampa Bay meets the Gulf of Mexico. While the beach is beautiful and it’s a great place to watch the sunset or to stargaze, it’s not a place to swim. Rip currents can be fierce, as well as the sea life.

“It’s so dark here,” Sophie says as we park the golf cart and walk the tree-lined trail leading us right where we want to be.

Vivi has slipped her hand into Sophie’s and I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight so we can see.

“You’ll appreciate the darkness once we’re down there,” I tell her.

Soon, we hit the boardwalk bridge that opens up the view of the Point and takes us to the beach. The sand here is crisp white, cool, and deep, and the sound of the water is hypnotic. I don’t know what it is about the water here versus the Atlantic Ocean in Boston, but it’s just different. It feels calmer and not as fierce, which makes it easy to see why people love Florida west coast beaches.

“I’ve never been to this part of the island,” Sophie says.

“You’re going to love it,” Vivi tells her.

We’ve paused to take in the view in front of us. The stars are striking in the night sky, and the moon has made it bright enough so we can see our surroundings. The white of the sand against the dark water makes the curve of the Point visible, and you feel like you’re standing on top of the world. But the half dozen fishermen lined up in front of us, spaced out about ten feet apart, cause us to pause.

“What are they fishing for?” Sophie asks.

“Sharks.”

She turns to me, shocked. “Really?”

“Yep. The currents here create the perfect pathway for them to go in and out of the bay. Bull sharks can tolerate salt water and fresh water, so the environment here is perfect.”

“Wow. Why are they using glow sticks on their lines?”

“They use the green ones because the bright hue attracts fish and sharks.”

“Do people eat bull sharks?”

“Yes. Here in Florida, this is legal fishing to keep the populations manageable, and if you hit up any mom-and-pop seafood restaurant near the coast, they probably have shark nuggets on their menu.”

Sophie frowns. “I’m not sure I would like that.”

“You never know until you try it. Come on, let’s head over there, away from these guys.”

“But, Uncle Jonah, I want to see a shark,” Vivi says.

“You just saw one at the aquarium.”

“But this is different.”

I can’t argue with her there. But we are not sticking around these guys out here at night. I don’t know them, and quite frankly, people who wrangle sharks at night might not be my kind of people.

“Why do you know so much about this?” Sophie asks.

“Tyler likes to fish. He loves to talk about all the different species here and the different ways to catch them.”