The Dome House, Part II

I’m the kind of person that goes to the movies by myself. I’ve also been known to frequent museums on my own and, many times, I have been a party of one at restaurants.

Doing things alone seems to freak some people out. A quick, non-scientific poll of my coworkers confirmed what has become my theory on the subject: you are either the kind of person who can do things by yourself, or you’re not. Of course, posing the go-it-alone at a movie, museum or restaurant question did bring up many “situational” yeses and nos. For instance, one of my coworkers said she would do so, but only if traveling. Actually, she first asked if a bar counted in the restaurant category.

“I would drink by myself, yes, if I was traveling,” she said.

Similarly, a male coworker said he would only eat alone if he was in an airport or traveling by himself. Otherwise, he said he would fear people looking at him and judging his solo status in such a public place.

Interestingly enough, the aforementioned female coworker also works at a restaurant — and said she never judges those eating alone. However, she often makes up a back story about the person and why they’re alone, compelling her to want to befriend said lone diner.

When it comes to museums, the aforementioned male coworker said he might go it alone — but he wouldn’t plan to do so, because he wants someone to talk to.

“I wouldn’t do it because I wouldn’t choose to do it,” he said.

Company-loving folk aside, though, there are others like me. Another of my male coworkers said, after only a moment of thought, he has done all three alone, and would do so again. Another female coworker said she has definitely gone to a movie and a restaurant by herself, and would consider a solo museum trip (though she would prefer to have someone with which to discuss the subject matter).

For her, distance from family and friends, as well as living alone, plays a role — she will often go to a restaurant herself to avoid staying a home like a “hermit,” she said, but “it can be a little weird.”

Now, you may be asking yourself why I just spent 350 or so words pontificating on going it alone. I, myself, am surprised I have so much to say about the subject. But I have come to A Conclusion.

My love of individual activities is directly correlated to The Dome House.

It stands alone on the beach, just hangin’ there, by itself.

If there was a movie playing that was relevant to its interests, like the blockbuster “Sitting on the Beach by Myself, Just Watching the Waves,” it would go see it — by itself.

While I’m pretty sure it doesn’t eat anything — there are only old mattresses, pieces of glass and similar inside — if it did, it would order up its dish of glass shards alone.

And you know what? It’s practically a museum, itself.

The Dome House and I were made for each other.

I first became acquainted with The Dome House a little less than two years ago. My interest was piqued from day one so, naturally, I began feverishly Googling every combination of “dome” and “St. Augustine” I could think of from home some 1,000 miles north. Not a whole lot came up, except for a photo from 2010.

Apparently, though, dome houses are a thing.

Regardless, there wasn’t much on my dome house, which I have visited many times despite “advice” to the contrary.

I mean, there’s just something so inviting about it …

It just seems so safe! Alluring, even!

Amirite??

Damn, just makes you want to drop everything and head there for vacation, doesn’t it?

Anyway.

The only trace of The Dome House I could find online was courtesy of the county’s website. Aerial maps proved its existence, and that it is located on an actual lot demarcated by St. Johns (sic — apparently they don’t care about possessives in Florida) County.

Hard to see — but The Dome House is the circular white blip in the middle of the map.

To tell you the sad, depressing truth, Google Maps initially confirmed The Dome House’s existence, as well. Most unfortunately, though, Google decided to update its aerial photos since then — and on what I believe to be the exact day, nay, moment, in which The Dome House was destroyed. Fair warning: the photo below may make you cry, because I did when I saw it (and I totally wish I was kidding).

Well — sniff, sniff — moving on.

I was a bit at a loss without the help of the internet, which has only failed me on roughly two other occasions in my life.

But I was not put off.

I emailed a local realtor in St. Augustine that I am friendly with, and she knew about The Dome House! Even better, she expressed a similar love of the structure — and had even concocted a plan (dated before the economy tanked) in which 13 individuals could go into a partnership to but the house and fix it up (repairs were estimated to be nearly $100,000 at the time). Then, it would be used as a sort of timeshare. The purchase price of The Dome House and its property was more than a half a million dollars back then, which did not include the repairs. Those figures also included a four-wheel-drive cart and a pontoon boat, which would be used as transportation to the house — there really aren’t any accessible roads leading to my beloved structure.

In fact, the area surrounding it — the part that isn’t beachfront — is pretty rugged.

Anyway, my realtor friend’s plan for the house includes a photo of it at the time — around five years ago — when it was still in better repair.

I mean, look at that back deck! Man, the times, they sure are a changing.

That being said, I still didn’t know much about the house at that point. I learned, from my property selling friend, there was definitely an available (though old) septic tank and an electrical hookup — but no water.

The only way to get water would be from a very deeply dug well, and there was no access to The Dome House except by traveling over the beach or sandy dunes. While the fiberglass dome would likely last forever, the deck and dock needed to be entirely replaced.

A visit to The Dome House showed it was clearly in serious disrepair, from the top right down to what I’ll call the “basement.”

It needed some help.

Serious help.

I mean, it was abundantly clear that someone had once lived there…

…but it was also abundantly clear that, as local rumors had it, surfers were likely sleeping in The Dome House at night, and it had seen its fair share of use for other more nefarious purposes.

Know what I mean?

But you know what? When push comes to shove, none of that really matters.

It has a hell of a view.

Coming up in Part III of The Dome House Saga: Finally Getting Some Answers