AARON SHAROCKMAN and CHRIS TISCHThe hurricane's effects sweep high onto Clearwater Beach, worrying residents, emptying businesses and giving visitors more novelty to see.
CLEARWATER BEACH - Ivan's wake fuddled ashore Wednesday afternoon, though its worst stayed well out to sea.
The Category 4 hurricane, coupled with a high tide, turned beach into muck. Jellyfish pushed down streets that had been transformed into creeks.
Some people worried.
Others played.
"The water came in so fast. It streamed in so quick," said Tom Prevas, who owns a home on the beach and saw water creep toward his front door. "But when you live on the water, sometimes you live in the water."
After noon Wednesday, mountains of sea ripped toward land - Ivan's kick as it headed north.
The white-capped waves crawled up the sand, and within an hour, 18 inches of water filled several streets.
At the Adam's Mark hotel, waves slammed into the sea wall, spraying the back deck and tiki bar with foamy water 20 feet high. The waves toppled garbage cans and sent streams of water flowing down the hotel drive.
"It's kind of weird seeing the water come up on your deck," general manager Jason Reader said as he watched the crashing tides. "You look up in the sky and everything is fine, and you look out and there are huge waves."
Water sogged the sands off Eldorado Avenue but stopped just short of waterfront houses. Still, construction workers building a beachfront home decided to move 6,000 square feet of pine siding to the second floor. They said a police officer told them the high tide overnight would be as much as 5 feet higher.
"We didn't want to have to get a boat to get the rest of the stuff tomorrow," said superintendent Robert R. Harmon.
While Harmon's crew worked, tourists slogged through ankle-deep saltwater to watch the waves and take pictures.
Canadian travelers Peter and Marion Rigby plodded across S Gulfview Boulevard with a video camera in tow. The street, and several others, were closed to traffic Wednesday afternoon because of the rising waters.
The Rigbys had been to the beach in the morning, when the water was where it should be.
"It's still a beautiful day," said Peter Rigby, 66, in his swimsuit. "If you think this is bad, try Ontario in February, dressed like this."
Three-year-old Chloe Devine's day at the beach was cut short when she was stung by a jellyfish, said her father, Clearwater resident Sonny Devine. The Devines had come to play in the waves.
But by afternoon, the beach had moved close to their car. Another jellyfish floated nearby.
The water wasn't good for business, either.
At Post Corner Pizza on South Gulfview, the dining room stood empty Wednesday afternoon. Employees goofed around and watched the splash but had no customers to serve.
General manager Maria Altikatis said business has thinned to a trickle since Ivan swung into the Gulf of Mexico earlier this week. She hoped Clearwater Beach would see some business from people in the Panhandle escaping the storm, but it wasn't to be.
"When we saw the storm turning, we didn't think it would empty out like it did," she said.
The beach stayed open while the waves came ashore. So did the city's pier, said Clearwater Marine and Aviation Director Bill Morris. The city had been prepared for a 2- to 4-foot rise, he said, and other than soggy streets and some minor electrical issues, the event passed as planned.
"Overall, the weather really wasn't bad," said Morris, who walked about 4 miles during the surge to monitor conditions. "We kept the beaches open. . . . People around here don't get to play in surf that much."
Back at the Adam's Mark, Largo residents Bill McSweany, 40, and Jill Gwaltney, 26, impersonated TV weathermen.
McSweany, in a bright orange, old style Tampa Bay Buccaneers poncho, held an American Idol toy microphone and backed up to the waves.
Gwaltney stood back with a handheld video camera.
"It's chaos right now," said McSweany, who adopted the personality of Bob Stormwater for the report. "They don't want us out here. We're going to have to leave."
For the past week, McSweany - or Stormwater - and Gwaltney have been filming knockoff weather reports from across Pinellas County.
After seeing TV personalities sensationalize the news for weeks, they said, they would try themselves. They even turned the back porch of their Largo home into a studio, W-IRIE.
The weather. The reporting. It's all out of hand.
"It's gotten so ridiculous,' McSweany said.
"We decided to make fun of it ourselves. Hey, there hasn't been much else to do."
Staff writer Carrie Pratt contributed to this report.