Deep Thoughts on Shallow Water

Sometimes I hear a frustrated sailor, fisherman or yachtsman-usually while he's clutching a cold beer-muttering about our shallow waters. And usually I agree with that person (especially if he's buying). Hey, you just can't argue the fact: We do have shallow water around here, much shallower than most areas of the country.

But along with that shallow water go a few other things. Positive things. Things that, if one just calms down and ruminates a bit, will actually cheer up the person who ventures forth upon the watery parts of Southwest Florida's coast.

First and foremost, our shallow water rests on a gentle bottom. We should be proud of our bottom-it's not composed of rocks like up North or coral as it is farther south. It's mostly sand. Nice, soft, gentle sand. If you run aground on sand, chances are you're not going to have a hole in your hull and sink in seconds. You'll probably just sit there, embarrassed certainly, but in mortal danger? No, probably not. Just relax and back her off. If that doesn't work, call a boat-towing company. Or you can do what seamen have done here for centuries-wait for the next tide. Take the opportunity to have a party, do some fishing or jump down into the waist-deep water and brush off the boat's hull. This way everyone will think you did it all on purpose. No humiliation there.

And how about anchoring? I've anchored in harbors in other locales where the average depth is 30 feet. Hurts my back to even think about it. Deep anchorages like that mean hauling up hundreds of feet of line and chain. And that means those little places in your back that don't like manual labor will start to complain and ache. Even with a windlass, it can be tough weighing anchor in deeper water. But here? A piece of cake. We anchor in eight to 10 feet of water. Starting to get my point?

Of course, our shallow water isn't just in scattered places here and there. Nope, it's nicely spread out all over. This means that you're never far from land. If your engine decides to go dormant or the wind dies and you can't get a tow, you can just walk home from many of our bays and rivers, because the nearest land is only about four or five feet straight down.

Speaking of getting a professional tow, I remember when the Coast Guard would do that for free. Yes, I said free. That is no longer the case. Salvage and towing companies didn't like the government competition, and the Coasties are too darn busy saving lives and busting bad guys to do tows for folks sitting on a sandbar. Now we have professional towing operators, and they love our shallow coast. It's easier, faster and safer for them to tow boats off the bottom around here. I saw a towboat captain use his prop wash to blow away part of a sandbar so a trawler could get refloated.

It was a thing of beauty. Try doing that with a rock ledge or a coral reef.

While meandering down the Intracoastal Waterway, you can often spot a particularly shallow stretch of water because you'll see a red- or yellow-hulled towboat or two, just drifting around close by. Waiting to help (for a fee) get somebody off that bottom of ours. Some people take offense at seeing them loiter like that, thinking it's ghoulish. I think it's great. Wish tow trucks did that on the highways. You may point out that it's not all sandy on the bottom here.

Occasionally there are oyster bars and flats, and running up on them is dangerous. You're right. If you're running at 40 or 50 knots in a flats boat and slide up on an oyster bar, you have a serious problem. Your hull will be scarred by the shells, your prop might be badly dinged up, and you can't just jump in and walk around among the razor-sharp oysters. That would be the time to take a breath and calm down-you're going to be late getting back to the dock, so call your family and let them know. Then wait for the tide. Where oysters grow there is water covering them. Wait for it to return. Or call over one of those towboats and let them walk among the oyster shells.

Another benefit of our shallow water has to do with depth sounders. On deep coasts a depth sounder warns of shallow water, which means danger. Makes the little electronic gizmo a bearer of bad news. Here shallow is the norm, and an unusual reading signals deep water. It's a cause for celebration. I've seen people get giddy when it reads 20 or 30 feet. At Boca Grande Pass they're glued to the depth sounder just to watch it go to 50 or 60 feet.

Attitude is important on this issue. I'm not talking about the provincial Southerner defending the honor of our waters versus those deep-water Yankee yachtsmen who whine about skinny water down here. No, I'm talking about the reason we go out on the water in the first place. To reach back in time and sail slowly or fish quietly, or explore this beautiful coast's remote islands and bays.

I say let's embrace our skinny coast and be proud of it. Let others around the world brag of their carefree depths. We on the Gulfshore like-even love-that our bottom is an up-close and personal part of our boating. Now don't you feel better about running aground?

Matlacha's Robert N. Macomber, author of a series of maritime novels, grew up sailing along the Southwest Florida coast.