Photo by Karen T. Bartlett
The Magical Mermaid, keeper of secrets.
The world is divided into two kinds of travelers: those who make must-see lists (me) and those who chase shiny objects (also me). At home, I love the exhilaration that comes with that bold sweep of the pen when I check off another line, but as a travel writer, it’s the distraction of shiny objects that help me bring a destination to life. I once fell in behind a ragtag brass band marching to the top of an Italian mountain village, not just because it was totally random but also to find out where they were going and why. I’ve forgotten the “why,” and also whatever cathedral tour I probably missed, but I can’t forget my animated chat with the musicians afterward without benefit of translation. These moments happen when you’re open to infinite possibilities. For example, here’s my trajectory on a single afternoon last weekend:
First on list: Deliver a fresh supply of my family guidebooks* to Bailey’s General Store, Sanibel. Check!
Second on list: Head to Jensen’s Marina on Captiva Island to confirm that Joey’s Famous hot dog and ice cream boat is good to go for another winter season. It is! The iconic pontoon boat cruises from Pine Island Sound, around the tip of Captiva and along the gulf beaches between South Seas Island Resort and the Mucky Duck restaurant. Fans queue up knee deep in the surf for grilled and chilled treats. P.S. There’s no Joey. That’s Captain Tommy at the grill. Check!
Shiny Object. A skeleton in a fisherman’s cap is lounging on a bench near the bait cooler. It’s the Jensen family’s inside joke on fishermen who think they must wait for big shrimp for a successful catch. The elderly skeleton that had waited around like a boss for over a decade (minus various ribs, arms, and feet) has retired. The spiffy new guy, still young enough to have all his appendages, is my favorite Captiva selfie spot.
While I’m greeting the skeleton, there’s a buzzing overhead. A sleek white seaplane makes a frothy landing in the bay near the end of the dock. Shiny object alert! A seaplane on Captiva? I don’t know who owns that one, but Google directs me to the Lucky Lindy Adventure, a vacation package at Tween Waters Island Resort & Spa, just around the bend. The hook is that Charles Lindbergh supposedly landed his plane a few times on the beach in front of the historic inn. So for just $2,799 you get three days and nights in the quaint seaside cottage bearing his name, plus a $100 dining card, kayak adventure and … drumroll, please … a private 45-minute Salt Island Seaplane journey over Captiva and the barrier islands (October-April only).
In full pursuit of this newest shiny object, I now search Salt Island Seaplanes, which turns out to be headquartered in Naples. I ask Jon Rector, the CEO/pilot, if he offers perhaps a teensy bit less expensive seaplane experience. Yes, he does! For just $350 I can take up to three of my besties on a 30-minute flight aboard one of his bright orange and white Cessna amphibious seaplanes over the Naples/Marco coastline, complete with a water landing. Or, for $700, we’d get a 90-minute adventure, flying over the Ten Thousand Islands with a water landing and picnic time on White Horse Key. BYOP (bring your own picnic). Note to self: add to must-do list.
Shiny Object. Before heading home, I decide to tool around Sanibel to see what new artistic mailboxes have sprouted up lately. The first one I notice is a manatee. Manatee mailboxes are fairly common, but there’s a mystical aura around this one. She’s painted a soft ocean blue and draped in flowery vines. There’s also some kind of script. I hop out of the car and read:
Write your secrets in the sand and trust them to a mermaid.
The manatee/mermaid backstory is that ancient mariners, at sea for months on end, are said to have spotted manatees through rum-bleary eyes and mistaken them for mermaids. I’m so enchanted by the art on this mailbox that I almost miss the faded hand-scrawled message taped to the letter door: Open this mailbox to write something to the Magical Mermaid. Inside are two clear plastic boxes and some pens. One box holds small blank squares of notepaper and the other one is packed with notes already written. The one I pull out at random reads: Dear Mermaid, please keep our island safe from Hurricane Elsa. She did! Others are more personal, and I suspect there are some true secrets here. I choose a pen and write my own secret, placing it deep in the center of the stack. I’m not revealing the location of the Magical Mermaid, because the joy is in the discovery. I hope you find her.
Shiny Object. Now it’s late afternoon, but with manatees on my mind, there’s nothing to be done except drive 30 minutes north to Manatee Park in Fort Myers. Hundreds of manatees, like snowbirds, start migrating into the Orange River and the cozy lagoon warmed by the Florida Power & Light Co. power plant when gulf temperatures drop.
The park is beautiful with its spreading oak trees, picnic areas, playground, winding trails, vegetation, manatee observation decks and well-placed displays throughout. The manatees apparently are tucked in for the night; only a few noses pop up here and there, but several human families are enjoying the peacefulness as the sun begins its descent.
The best way to see the manatees up close is by kayak. I plan to come early one morning, rent a kayak on site, and spend the day hanging out with the mermaids. I mean manatees. It’s already on the list.
*Travel Editor Karen T. Bartlett is the author of “A (mostly) Kids’ Guide to Naples, Marco Island & The Everglades” and “A (mostly) Kids’ Guide to Sanibel & Captiva Islands and the Fort Myers Coast.”