Clearwater is planning a crackdown on a spit of sand between the city and Tampa that has seen drunken brawls, traffic accidents and shots fired.
By JENNIFER FARRELL
Published July 6, 2003
[Times photos: Douglas Clifford]
People gather at the Courtney Campbell Parkway beach.
Ashley Barton, 19, of Seffner, helps her friend free her car from the rising tide after spending several hours playing on personal watercraft during a day at the Courtney Campbell Parkway beach.
CLEARWATER - James Osbourn staked his claim early.
Thirty feet of shoreline off the Courtney Campbell Parkway was prime real estate Friday, and he wasn't taking a chance on losing out on July Fourth, a holiday he had planned for two months.
"It's the only place we have to go," said Osbourn, 33, of Holiday.
Actually, there are lots of other places to barbecue and swim and ride Wave Runners, like the one Osbourn owns, just not all at the same time. The narrow, half-mile spit of sand between Clearwater and Tampa is one of a tiny handful of places in the region where all three co-exist legally.
In good weather, Osbourn takes his three children there most weekends. He brings the older kids with him on the water while his wife relaxes on the sand. Up and down the beach, dogs romp in the water while music - from hip-hop to country to salsa - blares from cars lining the shore.
By fall, though, the picnic could be over.
City officials have vowed a crackdown on the area they say has become a drain on police resources. Holidays and sunny weekends draw throngs of partiers, mostly from out of town, who ignore a ban on alcohol and end up in drunken brawls. Traffic accidents are common and shots have been fired. A melee on Memorial Day weekend included bottle-throwing, reckless driving and three felony hit-and-run arrests.
Fans of the beach downplay the rowdiness, blaming a few bad apples. They revel in the sense that freedom reigns. Critics, meanwhile, complain of a "Wild West" atmosphere.
Now, Clearwater City Manager Bill Horne and police Chief Sid Klein are hammering out a plan to tighten restrictions to coincide with a new traffic light planned in October. They've decided against closing the beach entirely, mainly because a lease with the state Department of Transportation requires the city to maintain public access to the water.
But Horne and Klein are hoping the new rules will squeeze crowds out.
For starters, Klein has recommended shrinking the hours of operation - currently dawn to 11 p.m. - and designating separate areas for swimming and personal watercraft use. Traffic would also become one-way, with a new exit added at the east end of the beach.
But officials predict a proposed clamp-down on parking will be most effective in driving people away.
On busy weekends and holidays, hundreds of cars line the waterfront and crowd the sandy strip near the road. Klein has recommended limiting parking to 82 spaces, including five handicapped, along the road. Parking on the water would be banned.
A gate fee and parking meters are also possibilities, according to Klein.
"We have experienced some pretty significant antisocial behavior," he said. "This would, without shutting down the beach itself, provide a great deal more stability for everybody's safety."
Horne, who said he does not ride personal watercraft, does not frequent the area.
"I'm not a big water guy," he said. "I've tried to swim I don't know how many times. I'm a rock."
That said, Horne thinks other people ought to be able to enjoy the area, which is also known as "The People's Beach."
"We're not necessarily trying to eliminate all the fun there," Horne said. "We've just got to manage it."
But one man's management is another man's tyranny.
Tim Hawes, 33, of Citrus County, responded to the proposed restrictions with words that can't be printed here.
He said the city is over-reacting.
"Sure," he said. "Alcohol and idiots. It's a bad combination."
But any new rules will backfire, he said.
"All they're going to do is run everybody to Gandy. Either Gandy or Dunedin," said Hawes. "And it's going to be the same thing all over again."
Hawes, an ironworker with two metal hoops in his left ear and a tiny silver barbell punched through his left eyebrow, spends every day he can at the beach.
On Thursday, his daughter, Brittany, a tiny blonde 3-year-old in a purple one-piece, skipped in the shallow water near friends while Hawes watched from his pickup. He blamed diverse crowds drawn to the beach and ensuing ethnic and racial tensions for the fights.
"That's just society in general," said Hawes. "It could happen at the mall. It could happen anywhere ... What're you going to do? Punish everybody?"
Early Friday, with crowds already gathering along the shoreline, Clearwater police Sgt. Lloyd Wentz eased his white cruiser slowly up and down the beach. Pausing for a look at the horizon, he took a deep breath.
"I hope it's quiet," he said. "I'm praying for rain."
