
“Pool of piss.”
“World’s largest outdoor toilet party.”
“Like standing in a sewer.”
“A different version of a golden shower.”
“Elbow to elbow in piss water.”
Those are the Facebook comments from people not attending this year’s Boater Skip Day, which happened Friday a few miles south of Green Cove Springs on the St. Johns River. “Boater Skip Day” draws thousands of North Florida people, mostly in center-consoles and pontoon boats, vessels not typically equipped with indoor plumbing.
Yeah, it’s as if the Woodstock music festival had happened not in mud, but in three and a half feet of water mixed with a measurable dose of human waste-lite.
Measurable because we are a predictable species when it comes to urinating. Even when we are not pounding down some of the worst brands in the history of beer (or cans of those fruity “spritzers” labeled as having “0 juice”), the average person pees 4 to 16 fluid ounces every four hours.
So, even if Skip Day were a conclave of Mormon mariners, we are talking about 128 gallons of pee per thousand revelers every four hours. Authorities predicted 6,000 to 7,000 people at this year’s event, so do the math.
Then double it. This weren’t no Mormon conclave. Folks were day-drinking like lapsed Baptists. Boater Skip Day is a Florida tradition—otherwise known as a sandbar party. Check ’em out on YouTube. You’ll hear the entertainers (sandbar parties are actually organized events) making jokes about people peeing in the water. Hahaha.
So, what’s the harm? Probably not much, but not nothing either.
Conventional wisdom holds that urine is sterile, especially compared to that other human industrial byproduct, but that isn’t actually true. For example, medical experts say, urinary tract infections and other viral infections can be spread through contact with urine. Otherwise, why would moms force us to wash our hands after using the bathroom, or the head, as we call it on a boat?
An everything bagel of law enforcement was on hand to keep an eye on Boater Skip Day attendees, having issued warnings about lifejackets and not boating under the influence, etc. None of the advance warnings, however, addressed how to deal with calls of nature.
The boating world has an expert on boat toilets and associated issues. Her name is Peggy Hall, but she is often referred to as the “head-mistress.” (Get it?) She said the Boater Skip Day practice of relieving oneself while swimming or wading is righteous behavior.
According to Hall, it’s legal to urinate—or even poop—over the side of a boat directly into the water or while in the water. However, Hall says, if you put it in any container first, you cannot legally empty that container into any inland or coastal waters within three miles of the nearest point on the whole U.S. coastline.
So, to all you Boater Skip ladies who thought using a solo cup was an elegant alternative to the community pee-pool, you would be breaking federal law unless you take your red cup and contents home with you. As Hall says, you have to be at least three miles into the ocean before you can legally employ the old “bucket-and-chuck-it” method.
Even though we are perfectly designed for the hang-ten maneuver, the legal sanctions for males peeing in public can be severe. Peeing “en plein air,” as the French would say, is a Florida misdemeanor that can result in a criminal record. Never mind that the feds are okay with it, in Florida you’ll be lucky if you can avoid getting your name on a sex-offender list.
Pro-Tip
You’ve come to the part of the story that provides useful advice to future Skip Day skippers.
Many of the conscientious objecters to Boater Skip Day called the St. Johns River “slow moving,” as if it were a fetid pool. That is actually not true. At Bayard Point, the scene of the crime, the St. Johns is still affected by tides, and they run up to a half knot, which is more than a half a mile-per-hour. If you think that’s no big deal, try swimming against it sometime.
When you pull up to the party in your Carolina Skiff named Cirrhosis of the River, you can determine which way the tide is running by dropping anchor. Assuming the anchor is deployed from the bow, or, as you would say, the front of the boat, the end with the outboard motor will point in the direction the current is flowing.
(If its windy enough to override the current, you might consult an online tide/current table for the vicinity of the Shands Bridge.)
Now that you know the flow, re-anchor your boat on the upstream edge of Party Central. The water there will be pee-free, except yours of course. You’ll be happy to know that the river will carry yours downstream, spreading your fluid amongst the frolicking throng, maybe helping to raise the temperature of the water just the teeniest bit.