What can we learn about Tampa Bay based on its recreation?

Standing on a sandbar, halfway through a swim across Tampa Bay, I find it's easy to understand why so many locals take Florida's largest estuary for granted. If you whiz across the Gandy Bridge in a nice, warm car, you barely notice your surroundings.

But we, the water lovers, know the bay differently. Stroke by stroke, paddle by paddle, we leave the land behind and offer ourselves to its mercy. Where we start — Tampa, St. Petersburg — doesn't matter.

All that counts is temperature, current, wave height, visibility. Out here, knee-deep in the 54-degree water with an outgoing tide ripping at your feet, there's no question who's the boss.

Those who respect the bay's power and might, enjoy its benefits. We surf, fish, sail and boat. Sometimes some more adventurous souls even venture far from land, armed with nothing but arms and legs to power us home.

But no matter how far or often we roam, we never forget that we are mere visitors, whose privileges may be revoked without a moment's notice.

Some say Tampa Bay has no seasons. That's a lie. Tarpon come in the spring and leave in late summer. Kingfish swing by in the fall and move on by winter.

The sharks have their time too ... when the bay is as warm as a bathtub. That's why we open-water swimmers wait for temperatures to drop so we can have this big, beautiful bay all to ourselves.

Terry Tomalin is the Times' outdoors writer.