A couple of days into the new year I was finally able to book at campsite on Amelia Island on the Florida coast, so drove down one sunny morning.  The first thing I did when I got there was to go to the beach.  I don’t really consider myself a beach person, but this place could convert me.  It always seems deserted, peaceful, pristine, and beautiful.

I spent the afternoon walking for miles along the sand, and collecting shells.  The sand isn’t quite white, but it’s soft and looks like granulated sugar.

Pretty little shore birds were dozing in the sun just out of reach of the tide, and pelicans were fishing offshore.

The next morning, my first full day there, wasn’t so inviting, however.  It rained heavily, with no sign of letting up.  By late morning I was getting tired of staring at the roof of my truck, so drove an hour to Jacksonville for the day.  My excuse was that I needed more fuel for my camp stove, but yeah, I didn’t need an excuse anyway, I just went.  It was still raining when I got back at night, so I’ll call that a good decision.

While in Jacksonville I also saw the movie “Rogue One,” which was excellent.   And dry.  I crossed this great bridge entering and leaving the city, and if you look carefully you can see the cooling towers of the nearby nuclear plant on the right.

The rain cleared overnight, however, and the next day dawned clear and beautiful again.  I decided to check out Fort Clinch, a Civil War fort that gives the State Park it’s name.

Oddly, the first room I entered in the fort was the prison.  There were three cells, for mild infractions like drunkenness, more serious matters like striking an officer, and solitary confinement for serious crimes like murder or mutiny.  The cell and chains below were for the medium level of badness.

The enlisted men’s quarters were fairly primitive, as seen here, but then the officers’ actually weren’t much better, just slightly more private.  They all had high ceilings, fireplaces, and brick floors, which is a step up from some other forts I’ve visited.

The blacksmith’s shop was positively picturesque.

As I started exploring inside the bunkers and walls, I started to notice the artistry of the fort’s construction.  Notice the arched doorways, and the marble steps that curve first left, and then circle around completely to the right.

And look at the arches of the windows, and the vaulted ceiling.  This is in a military fort.  Perhaps the construction was meant to add strength to the structure in case it was hit by cannon fire, I really don’t know, but when I see the beauty and grace of these forms, especially in what’s intended to be a utilitarian building, I can’t help but be impressed and sense a certain pride in workmanship.

The storehouse and commissary (and undertaker) was stocked with the basics of what the soldiers would need, but only the basics.  Locals were allowed to come into the fort during the day to set up stalls and sell more luxury goods, like oranges or peanuts, to the soldiers.  Also notice that the uniforms on the shelves are Union blue instead of Confederacy grey.  Fort Clinch was a Union fort, tasked with guarding the Amelia River and keeping supply ships from reaching the Confederacy.  (The fort has been used for defense in other engagements since, but is set up for display as it was originally used in the Civil War.)

In one of the kitchens (there are two), you can still see the soot from the cooking fires and ashes in the wood oven where the bread was baked.  No spitting in kitchen.

In one of the store rooms (oddly located behind the toilets), there’s a stock of ammunition of a variety of calibers used by the guns at the fort.  Judging by the straps needed to carry them, those large cannonballs must weigh quite a bit!

Several of the canon are still in place, pivoting on a central pin, the arm extending out behind them resting on two wheels.

Much of the fort appears to be original, and in spots you can see where the floor was warn down by all the soldiers’ boots that had travelled over it.  But I understand that a lot of work was done by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC).  The CCC is a recurring theme in my travels, as they did an astonishing amount of work on the National and State Parks.

If you’re wondering if there were ever any women allowed into the fort, the answer is yes.  They were allowed to enter, with a pass, an hour and a half after sun rise, and had to depart an hour and a half before sunset.  They ran the laundry, made candles, and could set up stalls to sell goods to the soldiers.  Also, there’s this sign… this seems like a joke to me… but you never know…

I spent the afternoon hiking some of the trails in the park, and because it’s Florida…

But it wasn’t wrong, to be honest.  In the course of my hike I saw two small alligators (about 3 feet long), a large turtle (about 1.5 feet), and an armadillo.  As you can see from the picture below, the trail was rather prone to alligator crossings, with murky green water on both sides.

The armadillos though!  I don’t remember seeing one the last time I was here, but this time they were like armored rats, walking through my campsite, crossing the road in front of the car.  Like being infested with tiny dinosaurs!  (And I hesitate to say this, for fear of being misunderstood, but they look just like puntable little footballs..  Must… fight… temptation…!)

So I was having a great time… until THAT day.  I had a phone job interview at noon that day, so I was just a little bit nervous.  I crawled out of my bed and started climbing into the front seat of the truck (the back door doesn’t open from the inside, so I have to get out through the front doors), when I accidentally kicked the steering wheel and heard a POP!  Ouch.  As it turned out later, I actually broke my middle toe.  What an idiot.  So I got ready, and half an hour before my interview I wanted to drive to an area with better phone coverage, so I started the car… or not.  The immobilizer started going off, and could not be silenced no matter what I did.  I suspect that I made some enemies in the campsite that day… but luckily I also made some friends, as the couple across from me came over to help.  We were finally able to disconnect the horn, and only through trial an error managed to get the immobilizer turned off, but not before it had drained my main battery.  Technically I should have been able to self-jump from my auxiliary battery (that’s the main reason I installed it after all), but my friendly neighbor already had his mobile battery pack out and was giving me a jump, and I wasn’t going to argue at that point.  It worked.  The truck started.  I thanked them profusely, yelled an apology to everyone else around me, and finally drove to someplace with adequate phone coverage… with 5 minutes to spare before my interview.  Oddly, when I got the call, the first question she asked me what how it was going, and I just laughed and told her the truth.  The interview went great from there!  Whew!

But.  After that adrenaline wore off, my foot really started to throb, and medical consultation confirmed a probable breakage, with recommended treatment being taping, sympathy, and booze.  Hm.  Good doctor.  I stayed on the island another day, but really couldn’t do much that involved walking, so I was reduced to this… sitting on a beautiful deserted beach reading.  Why is this bad, you ask?  Because the doctor prescribed sympathy as part of my treatment, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be in short supply when people see how I had to spend my day!

That night as I brushed the endless sand out of my car and off my broken toe, and forlornly contemplated the armadillos wandering around under my truck, I decided that it was time to move on again.  Onward, tiny dinosaurs!