We didn’t know this a year ago, but a new chapter in our lives began when we decided to slow down, take a breath, and let the road lead us somewhere new. That’s exactly how our story with Port St. Joe began.
We didn’t set out looking for a second home. We weren’t house hunting or dreaming of having a beach vacation rental. We just needed a break—a moment to disconnect from the daily rush and simply be ourselves. What we found instead was a sanctuary.
The Road to the Forgotten Coast
It started with a short getaway to St. Marks, Florida. A friend offered us their Airbnb, and we took it as a sign to hit pause. For two days, our only goals would be to relax, run (well, I ran while Chuck jogged and walked), and not work.
But if you know us, you know we can’t sit still for long.
After my morning run we hopped in the car and decided to explore the Forgotten Coast. We had heard whispers about this stretch of Florida’s panhandle, a quiet paradise filled with coastal charm and untouched beauty. With no plan in mind, we just followed the scenic Highway 98. Apachicola had been the farthest I’ve been.
It was magic from the beginning: Huttons Seafood food truck, the breeze off the Gulf, the views, the salt air, the Creek Raw Bar in Apalachicola, Then we saw it—the sign.
“OPEN HOUSE.”
I lit up like I had just seen another mushroom on the trail. Yes, they do get me!
“I love open houses!” I said.
“We’ll be there for two hours if we go,” Chuck replied,
“But we have nowhere to be. “Let’s just check it out.” I insisted.
He gave in (as he often does when I get excited like that), and we turned into WindMark Beach.
Love at First Sight (Almost)
We didn’t expect what we found at WindMark. It wasn’t just a beachside community—it was a village of its own. With walking trails, boardwalks, and a sense of intentional design, it felt different. Peaceful. Thoughtful.
We toured the homes with the sales rep, starting with a three-bedroom model. It was cute, sure—but it didn’t speak to us. Too small, too segmented. Not enough space to host our families or spread out.
Then came the four-bedroom. And that was it.
Flooded with natural light, open and inviting, it instantly felt like us. The layout flowed. The mother-in-law suite with a private entrance had me picturing my baby girl Emma—her messes, her will, her independence. It could work perfectly for family trips or vacationing with another couple. It just made sense.
We toured a five-bedroom model after that, but it felt disconnected—like everyone would be too far apart. I crave closeness, connection, the kind of togetherness you can feel from room to room. So we circled back to the four-bedroom.
Just in time for sunset.
From the back porch, we watched as the sun started to sink right behind the tree line, casting a golden glow across the grass and into the home. I felt its embrace. We could walk to the beach. There was a running trail connecting the communities. The stars were aligning and that meant trouble.
“Let’s Do This.”
We walked to the beach, just to see if it was truly “walkable.” And it was. The Gulf waters shimmered under the twilight, and we stood there in awe and a grin on our faces.
“Can you believe this?” we both asked at different times.
We couldn’t. But somehow, we also could.
Back at the Airbnb that night, I pulled out a notebook, because that is what I do and I always carry one with me. We crunched numbers. Dreamed. Imagined. Could we actually do this? But more importantly, should we?
The next morning, we signed the contract.
On June 28, 2024, we closed on our home in WindMark Beach. Our very own sanctuary in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
Creating a Beach Home, Not Just a House
From day one, we knew we didn’t want this to be a cookie-cutter vacation home filled with impersonal decor from another box store. The community was already a bit like that yet, we wanted meaning in every corner—art from our travels, our past, pieces created by friends and family, items with stories and soul. We agreed to buy nothing to simply occupy the space.
We spent the fall visiting often, shopping locally, meeting neighbors, and discovering the heart of Port St. Joe. The town embraced us. Every shop owner, retiree, artist, and musician seemed to welcome us with open arms. It felt like we belonged here. No one asked us what we did for a living; they simply wanted to know what we enjoy doing.
And it was more than just the town—it was what the beach waters did to us.
It gave us peace. It gave us joy. It gave us time to disconnect and just be.
Sharing Our Sanctuary
About six months later, we decided to open the home up to others. Not because we had to, but because we wanted to. In such a short amount of time, this place had given us so much, and we couldn’t keep it all to ourselves.
How could we not share the morning beach walks, the spontaneous golf cart rides to the town center, the music echoing through the breeze at WindMark’s stages and the sunsets?
How could we not share the beach and the sunsets that feel like a love letter from the universe, or the stars that seem to fall closer when you lie on the old 98 trail and just breathe?
A Place for Dreamers, Romantics, and Explorers
Chuck and I are both lovers of the outdoors. We’re seafood enthusiasts, trail seekers, music chasers. And Port St. Joe gives us all of that—every single time we visit.
We stumbled upon The Krickets playing live at WindMark Beach one evening, and I joked that I could finally understand the lyrics because they weren’t drowned out by the male country twang. It was country music, but I could understand it. We laughed, we danced, we connected with the band. Turns out, one of them owns Timber Tides Outfitters in downtown Port St. Joe. And yes, we now shop there and follow their journey.
That’s the kind of place this is. A town of real people, passionate creatives, and soulful connections.
A New Chapter, A Shared Life
We didn’t expect to fall in love with Port St. Joe. We weren’t looking for a life change. But sometimes, the universe hands you what you didn’t know you needed.
We found more than a beach house—we found a rhythm of life that matches our heartbeat. We found joy. We found a place to escape.
We’re both in our late 40s, two older souls who took a chance. On the road, on each other, on a home. And now we’re building something beautiful—not to erase the past, but to experience something different.
This is where we begin again. This is where we dream.
This is our sanctuary in Port St Joe.
And now, we invite you to experience it, too.
Ready to explore Port St. Joe?
Come stay with us. Breathe the salt air. Walk the trails. Catch the sunsets. Find a little piece of your own peace at Forgotten Coast Sanctuary.