This is by far the most photographed object on our beach.  It’s a WWII era watch tower, erected in 1942, one of around 15,000 such structures built on the U.S. coastline to keep an eye out for German shipping activity, or invasion, and one of the only ones still standing.  Several German spies actually did make it ashore near Ponte Vedra in February of 1942, but they were quickly captured before they could do any damage.  The threat was real.  Our tower was in pretty bad shape when we moved here, but the County stepped up and refurbished it in 2003.  It stands on the east side of A1A, about a half-mile south of The Little Hacienda, and is used as a reference by just about everybody who lives up here.  People say, “So and so is about a quarter-mile south of the submarine tower.”  Or, “I’ll meet you at the watchtower, and we’ll go from there.”  Or, “There’s a cool sand pyramid on the beach right by the tower.” Walkers in both directions use it as a turnaround point.  It makes a statement.  You’re supposed to do something there, even if it’s just to stop and look at the ocean.  People in cars pull off all the time to take photos.  Whale Watchers post there on the deck in January and February, scanning the ocean with binoculars for Right whales.  A local attorney shot himself in his car there some years ago.  There used to be a large RV park across the road, but it’s been gone for more than twenty years.  Some developer put in a half-mile oval road, with utilities, right after the RV park went under, but nothing was built there until just recently.  Just one house, so far.  We’ll see.

A homeless guy has lived under the tower for at least three years, that I know of.  You see him peddling off toward town on his bike nearly every morning.  I say good morning, but he just nods.  There’s no access up into the rather roomy tower enclosure, so he lives under the deck below.  That would drive me crazy.  I’d figure out a way to get up there.  I mean, it’s right there, with a stunning view.  Maybe he does, though he’d have to be a pretty good pole climber.  Great place for a chilled martini.  When the development gets going he’ll have to move on.  They’ll insist.

I checked into building a similar thing here on our dune– I figure I could have it up and finished in about two weeks after somebody dropped in the poles for me– but the Man said no.  Riparian rights apparently do not extend to Happy Hour towers, no matter how visually appealing they might be.