Otto Lightner's Museum

There are probably more museums in St. Augustine than churches. There's a Pirate and Treasure Museum, the original, kitschy Ripley's Believe or Not Museum, Potter's Wax Museum, the Spanish Quarter Museum, the Spanish Military Hospital Museum, the Lighthouse Museum, the Old Jail Museum … the list goes on and on. But the gem of St. Augustine is the Lightner Museum and if you're being choosy about which museum to visit, this is the one that should top your list. It's outstanding.  

Otto Lightner (1887-1950) known as “America's King of Hobbies” was a self-made, wealthy newspaper editor and publisher. He was the owner and publisher of Hobbies, an antiques and collectibles magazine during the Great Depression and advocated collecting. "Even with no money … everyone should have a hobby. Everyone should collect something". Whether it be matchbox covers, cigar bands or buttons, he endorsed collecting. He took his own advice, starting his own collections and buying other people's collections. He bought large homes in Chicago to house his collections. In the 1940s, he moved to St. Augustine for health reasons. Henry Flagler's flagship hotel, The Alcazar, had long since been abandoned and was in shambles. He bought it for $150,000 … pennies on the dollar … restored it and moved his sizable collections into it. Dubbed the “Smithsonian of the South”, the Lightner Museum opened in 1948. He donated the complex to the city of St. Augustine with the proviso that it would forever house his collection of collectibles. Since the early 1970s, St. Augustine's city offices reside in the old Alcazar next to the Lightner Museum.

The appeal of this museum is not just the collections, which are substantial, but the rooms and surroundings in which they're displayed. From the moment we walked in the door, we were mesmerized and nearly overwhelmed by the grandness of all we saw.

The collection, valued in the millions, is as diverse and eclectic as people's imaginations. On the first floor, there's a collection of shaving mugs, cigar bands, an Egyptian mummy, a dinosaur egg, a shrunken head, a whole room dedicated to musical instruments, steins and mugs, dolls and toys, ladies' hats and gloves and purses, Valentines, human hair decorations, a stuffed African lion once presented to Winston Churchill, a stuffed American crocodile hanging from the ceiling, steam engines, a huge, life-size carved bear, seashells, artwork, sculptures … I could go on and on and on. It's bizarre.

We took the elevator to the top floor ballroom and starting working our way methodically from one exhibit to the next, one gallery to another. I can imagine orchestras playing and people gliding to waltz music on the polished wooden floors. It's exquisite. Beautifully crafted furniture was on display along with huge ceramic vases and sculptures and artwork. From the gallery rails, we looked down on the restaurant far below which once was the largest indoor swimming pool in the country.

In another gallery on the top floor, we viewed textiles, a vast button collection, lace, quilts, cigar box labels, and cross-stitched samplers, Burmese carved furniture and everywhere more artwork and ceramics.

We looked down on the exhibits of cut glass and art glass and fine china in a gallery on the floor below. Gleaming chandeliers caught the light and added even more dazzle to the scene.

One darkened room held a stained glass collection with full sized windows and gorgeous signed Tiffany lamps.

I was intrigued by a ceramic ape (?) which sat alone atop a grand piano. The docent said it fell into the “grotesque” category, but there was no description of the piece nor information about its origins available.

I'm leaving so much out because the extent and diversity of the collections just boggle the mind. Tiffany to typewriters to toasters, blown glass, suits of armor, lanterns, paper dolls, the hotel's old sauna and even a room dedicated to the grandeur of Downton Abbey … there are obviously very few things that aren't collectible by at least someone.

Needless to say, we left with sensory overload. This is a place you could easily visit over and over again and see new and fascinating things each time.

Churches, Cathedrals & Concerts

We're spending more time in St. Augustine than we'd planned. How unusual? It's not just us, however. The weather including the never-ending Tropical Storm Bonnie, has contributed to keeping us here … along with no desire whatsoever on the part of the crew to depart. We find more excuses to stay than to leave, so here we are … Week 2 of our one week stay in St. Augustine. The city of St. Augustine is rich in churches and we love just wandering through them. The Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine stands regally across from the Plaza de la Constitución. Constructed of coquina and limestone in the late 18th century (1793-1797), it replaced three previous churches built on the same site that had all been demolished by fire (with the help of the British). It is considered the oldest church in Florida. Because of the tree cover and time of day, I found it hard to get a good photo, so I nicked one from the Internet to show you how grand it is with its Spanish style architecture.

The interior was cool and inviting with its Spanish tile floors and timbered, vaulted ceiling. The difference between a cathedral and a basilica, we learned, is simply that a cathedral is the primary church of the diocese and residence of the bishop, while a basilica has been deemed by the Pope to be a church building that has religious and/or historical significance to the Catholic Church.

Stained glass windows depicting the life of St. Augustine were beautiful with the afternoon sun gleaming through them.

There are several alcoves along the outer aisles dedicated to specific saints and religious persona. Shaped like a cross, the side altars held statuary and small altars. We were surprised to find unmistakable St. Patrick, golden shamrock in hand, standing in an alcove of green behind flickering candles.

The main altar, as is traditional in Catholic churches, is rich and ornate with gold-leaf décor.

Though the cathedral is impressive, it does not outshine the Flagler Memorial Presbyterian church a few blocks away, tucked behind Flagler College. Built by oil tycoon and business magnate, Henry Flagler, as a memorial to his daughter, Jenny, and her infant daughter, this absolutely beautiful church was built in less than year's time. In accordance with Flagler's directives, over a thousand men worked 24x7 in shifts to complete this amazing structure, so that it could be dedicated on the first anniversary of Jenny's death.

The architecture and interior detail are magnificent. A very knowledgeable docent and current member of the church provided lots of interesting information about the church and Henry Flagler, its benefactor.

Of particular notice was the beautiful domed ceiling, reminiscent of heaven itself.

Flagler later built a mausoleum attached to the church which now entombs Flagler and his first wife, as well as Jenny and her infant daughter, Marjorie.

The afternoon waned and in early evening we headed to the old city plaza for a free concert on the green. We'd brought a blanket with us and found a strategic spot to spread it in front of the plaza gazebo, then waited patiently and most pleasantly for the entertainment to begin.

This is the city's 26th year of presenting local entertainment on the plaza on Thursday nights during the summer. The Driftwoods, a 4-piece bluegrass group, began right on time at 7 pm. The playlist included a little bit of everything ... Gospel, bluegrass, C&W, traditional and original songs. Guitar, mandolin, banjo, bass and dobro notes rang out harmoniously in the warm evening air. Hands were clapping, toes were tapping and bodies swayed to the rhythm. It was delightful.

Two hours of sitting on the ground had us stove-up and lame when we finally folded our blanket, unfolded ourselves and walked back to the marina. The evening was beautiful as we passed under gas lamps lighting the plaza, walked past Ponce de Leon and checked out the Bridge of Lions nighttime view before heading back to Nine of Cups.

We need to leave soon, we know … but not just yet.

Riding Out Tropical Storm Colin - Pt. 2

By definition, a “tropical storm” is a cyclone which originates in the tropics and attains sustained wind speeds between 34–63 knots (39–73 mph/63–118 km/h). It's one step below a category 1 hurricane. An eerie calm had descended upon the anchorage. There were none of the usual boat sounds … no fishing boats or cigar boats whizzing past up the channel. No jet skis. The tour boats didn't go out. There was no wind. The only movement of water was driven by the current and it was so quiet we could hear the lap of water against the hull as the water passed by. Everyone and everything seemed poised ... waiting for Tropical Storm Colin to arrive. It was the proverbial “calm before the storm”. Calm and disquieting.

We'd already stowed the dinghy and prepped for departure, so there wasn't much to do other than check and double-check. We lashed down the bimini. We busied ourselves with odd chores on board throughout the day, seemingly busy and casual, but the anticipation of the impending storm was always there.

We had brief showers on and off during the day and the skies were dark and forbidding. We waited and waited. We ate dinner around 7pm. It was still pretty quiet. We're not good at the waiting game and the angst was palpable. It wasn't until 9pm that we heard the first real rain begin to fall. Then it came in buckets. Hard, hard rain that emptied the sky and kept on coming. David's hatch repairs were being tested and seemed to be holding just fine. It became stifling below decks … hot and muggy with all the hatches and ports closed.

The wind soon caught up with the rain. We could hear it approaching like a freight train and then the howling began. It whipped through the rigging. Previously well-behaved lines and halyards banged and clanged. The incoming strong current was at odds with the winds and Cups heeled over as she took the winds broadside. A few things not stowed after dinner went flying off the counter … my bad. The mooring ball, driven by the strong current, clanged against the hull with loud thuds. David went on deck innumerable times to check the ball and look for chafe in mooring lines. Each time he came back below soaked to the bone after only minutes on deck. All was fine. We chatted, watched movies and sipped tea. There was no sleeping.

The tide finally began to change just after 11pm and the current got in sync with the wind. Cups was clearly more comfortable and so was her crew. The thunder and lightning began, but only one bolt appeared to strike close by. The others lit the sky spectacularly and blasted us with a few loud cracks, but posed no threat. We checked for weather updates frequently. Some waterspouts had been sighted earlier in the day in other parts of the state, but none in the St. Augustine area. We saw a max of 40 knots on the wind speed indicator … a good sailing day for our South African friends in Cape Town … but we were definitely out of practice for storm force winds.

By 2am, the worst that Colin was dishing out had passed. David made one more walk around deck, checked the mooring lines and we headed to bed … tired, but relieved. All told, it was certainly not the worst storm we've endured, but we were glad it was over. Colin is on his way northeast to Georgia and the Carolinas and then is expected to head offshore to the hurricane graveyard.

We woke just after 7am. The sun was trying to shine and the sky was a patchy blue. Cups seemed no worse for the wear and her decks were clean and salt-free. We discovered a few new leaks, but nothing major … something to add to “the list”. We noticed one sailboat at anchor nearby with its torn and tattered jib fluttering in the morning breeze. The rest of our neighbors appeared to be just fine. The marina launch made a pass through the mooring field asking if we'd had enough wind. Definitely.

The worst is over and we'll be on our way soon once the seas calm down a bit and the southerly winds return. In the meantime, we return to our adventures in St. Augustine. Once we're en route to the Chesapeake, we'll update you with passage notes.