The Fine Line

There was no small irony that this weekend’s cleanup of local beaches occurred under the kind of postcard weather that draws so many to this spot on the map.

And that spot is not in imminent danger of being erased.

That illustrates the tightrope that the media must walk in this unfolding saga that began nearly a mile below the water’s surface in the Gulf of Mexico.

On the one hand there is an ecological disaster that many of us hope and pray never to see again in our lifetime.

When an oil leak is spewing 200,000 gallons a day into the Gulf of Mexico, and the company trying to stop that leak, BP, has had little to no success in doing so, there is a chilling effect across the Gulf Coast.

The ripple is already being felt locally.

Cancellations on rentals, a fishing tournament well behind in its registration targets, fewer tourists, fewer folks at the grocery store, at local restaurants, at shops. The local economy, already reeling, is beginning to feel jabs of pain and the punches figures to keep on coming.

There was considerable solace to be cleaved from last week’s turnout of volunteers to clean up local beaches, an effort aimed at making the beaches as pristine as possible before any oil potentially washes up on the sand.

Folks who had never even been to Cape San Blas or St. Joseph Peninsula or St. Joe Beach were out at WindMark and Salinas Park doing their part to clean the beaches.

And those not already in love with the place, or at least a healthy fraction, fell head over heels, basking in the sunny, azure skies and warm, comfortable temperatures.

 It was hard, walking along those beaches, not to ponder how beautiful this spit on the map can be, how much the water and the air and the beach can serve as a magnet for all sort of folks.

And to wonder how those beaches will look six months from now, a year from now.

The realities are jarring.

This is the tug of war, between a viewpoint more aligned with emergency management or one more aligned with the Tourist Development Council and how to find a balance in between.

For the impacts on Florida are clearly down the road and for the time being the beaches and all the amenities are open for business.

As those volunteers found over the weekend the county’s beaches are still primarily pristine, the sugary sands glistening in the midday sun, the water sparkling.

The fishing, the boating, the kayaking is all first rate, just as it is every year.

There are rental bargains to be had and sunsets to enjoy, beaches to lounge upon and water in which to wade and swim at your pleasure.

The restaurants are open and serving delicious food, including seafood, and the shops are ready for business.

One wouldn’t know or understand that from reading or watching the media, which as it does when blood is in the water, pardon the pun, circles like sharks, ratcheting up the noise to the point that all sense is drowned out.

Yes, there is an ongoing ecological catastrophe taking place in the Gulf of Mexico. The impacts from this disaster could be immense and intractable over the course of years, but they are also impacts that seem elusive for quantifying just yet.

What is compounding the costs of this manmade calamity, however, is that the entire Gulf Coast is being painted by a black brush before the initial impacts of this leak are even felt in these parts.

That is shame because there are many good people owning small businesses that rely on the tourist trade, rely on those pristine beaches and beautiful waters that remain out the front door to survive.

Maybe those small business owners don’t know whether they will be in business in a year or two years. But they do know they are in business now.

Everything is in place for an enjoyable postcard vacation, despite the outside noise.

Does an ominous threat loom in the distance? Indeed.

But for those who call this bit of paradise home, or home away from home, life along the coast remains vibrant and, well, coastal.

 And the tightrope requires that amidst the gloom and doom of what may or may not lay ahead for us in Gulf County, we note that the sun still shines, the water still glistens, the birds still take flight and fish still jump.