Tragic Loss in Boca Ciega Bay: Man and Dog Ride Out Hurricane Debby

In a close-knit community of live-aboard boaters in Boca Ciega Bay, southern Pinellas County, Brian J. Clough, 48, chose to face Hurricane Debby aboard his sailboat home with his beloved dog, Daisy. This decision, born out of a sense of safety, loyalty to their lifestyle, and nowhere else to go, ended in heartbreak.

As Hurricane Debby rapidly intensified on Sunday night, residents of this marine community anchored near Gulfport braced themselves. By Monday evening, while many on Florida's Gulf Coast sighed in relief having avoided the worst, the live-aboard community of Boca Ciega Bay faced devastation. Boats were thrown onto the sand, tangled in mangroves, and some even sank, taking with them the livelihoods of their owners.

Among the destruction, Brian Clough was found dead on his partially submerged sailboat. Despite being about 140 miles away from Debby's landfall in the Big Bend region as a Category 1 hurricane, the storm’s impact was profound in Boca Ciega Bay. Known affectionately as Captain Brian, he was remembered for his quick wit, entrepreneurial spirit, and the love he had for Daisy, who survived and is now in a new home.

“We lost 20 boats and one soul,” lamented Sean Buckmaster, a 56-year-old U.S. Army veteran and the unofficial mayor of Boca Ciega Bay.

This community of live-aboards, ranging from seasoned sailors to young adventurers, represents a unique way of life or necessity amid the affordable housing crisis. Spanning from the Sunshine Skyway to Madeira Beach, their numbers fluctuate like the tides, and Clough's tenure there remains unclear.

“We don’t keep records. There are no memberships,” Buckmaster explained. “But if you’re in our bay, you’re family.”

As the storm approached, boaters debated the perennial question: stay or go? Eric Matos, a land resident and friend of Clough’s, urged him to come ashore. They had met the previous year at a local bar, Hurricane Eddie’s, where Clough and Daisy were regulars. Despite Matos' pleas, Clough chose to stay aboard his boat.

As Debby’s fury unleashed, boats were tossed violently, anchors failed, and vessels collided. Clough anchored about 50 feet from Veterans Park. By late Monday morning, his partially sunk sailboat was discovered with Daisy on board, but no sign of Clough.

An extensive rescue operation ensued involving local police, fire departments, the U.S. Coast Guard, and civilian divers. Meanwhile, Kelly Wright, a long-time Gulfport resident, handed out homemade beef stew to everyone involved in the rescue effort, embodying the community spirit.

Clough was found on his boat early Monday evening. While the exact cause of death is unclear, initial investigations do not suggest foul play. Efforts to locate close relatives have only identified a nephew and distant family members in Arizona.

Gulfport police, previously equipped with an officer dedicated to patrolling the bay, now face challenges due to funding cuts. Sgt. Thomas Woodman highlighted the recurring issue: “Storm after storm after storm, we see the same results. Boats wash on shore, primarily because vessel owners are not properly preparing themselves.”

In the aftermath of Debby, some boaters are reconsidering their futures, contemplating a move to land. Yet, many remain anchored to the life they love, rocked to sleep by the waves and enamored with their marine environment.

“I never experienced true freedom until I was on the water,” Buckmaster reflected.

As the storm moved into Georgia on Monday night, Gulfport Beach became a graveyard of damaged vessels. Amid the wreckage, children played on the sand, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange, while boats bobbed on the waters of Boca Ciega Bay, enduring yet another storm.