Gifted Islands

The loneliness you get by the sea is personal and alive. It doesn’t subdue you and make you feel abject. It’s stimulating loneliness. —Anne Morrow Lindbergh

By Marilyn Mower

I can still remember people my parent’s age talking about the biggest celebrity crime of the previous generation, the kidnapping of the infant son of aviators Charles and Anne Lindbergh.  My mother was a huge Lindbergh fan and when we moved to Florida, at the top of her “to do” list was seeing the place where Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote Gift from the Sea in 1955.

Clockwise from top left: The Bubble Room Restaurant; South Seas’ golf course; The Pointe pool deck at dusk; Captiva Island looking south from South Seas Island Resort toward Sanibel; the fishing pier into Redfish Pass; the Offshore Sailing School fleet at South Seas Harbor Marina. Opposite, flats fishing for snook in Pine Island Sound.

Anne and Charles had rented a secluded cottage on Captiva Island and it was here she penned a collection of short essays inspired by the peace she found watching the  Gulf of Mexico and collecting shells. Each essay focuses on a particular seashell, which Anne used to anchor her thoughts on life, marriage, family and the environment.

All that esoterica was lost on me as I scuffed along after my mother on the beaches of Captiva and Sanibel Islands, choosing and discarding shells in search of perfection. As a teen, I thought the place was a little dull and surfless.
This past spring I had an invitation to visit Captiva in conjunction with Marlow Marine Sales Owner’s Rendezvous. As I headed west across Alligator Alley I realized that I was actually looking forward to the peacefulness of the place as I remembered it. It also occurred to me that I was now about the age my mother had been —and that Anne Morrow Lindbergh had been—when they experienced these islands for themselves. Then, for the next three hours I fought off anxiety: What if Sanibel and Captiva were now paved with asphalt and studded with high-rises?
I needn’t have worried. Once Summerlin Boulevard gave way to the Sanibel Causeway, the madness of new Florida receded into the background, trumped by the sweetness of Old Florida. This is not to say that there aren’t some big hotels and condos on the south end of Sanibel lining Gulf Drive. But by the time Sanibel-Captiva Road passes Tarpon Bay, they are out of sight and mind.  Past the world famous 6,300-acre J.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife refuge, Sanibel narrows and becomes ragged like saltwater taffy pulled by a giant hand. At Blind Pass it gives up completely. On the other side is Captiva.
For many years—these islands became a winter vacation spot for wealthy industrialists in the 1880s—most people thought that Sanibel was far enough from civilization; before the bridge over San Carlos Bay was completed in 1963, the ferry ride from Fort Myers took 30 minutes.
Except for fishermen who cherished the sheltered, shallow mangrove-lined bays on the island’s backside and the twice-daily parade of fish traveling through Redfish Pass, Captiva was largely untouched.  As with Sanibel, the higher ground was farmed, mostly with watermelon, vegetables and grapefruit. Clarence Chadwick bought 330 acres at the north tip of Captiva and established a prosperous key lime plantation. A 1924 hurricane pushing a 14-foot storm surge across the island put an end to agriculture, but left a number of his packing houses and barns.  He came up with the idea of turning the place into a tourist lodge.
Lucky for us, his property wasn’t parceled off, today it exists as South Seas Island Resort, clinging to Old Florida atmosphere but with modern conveniences. The presence of numerous parks and reserves in this region of Florida help preserve the sense of refuge. So too, does a land conservation plan adopted in 1974.
Past the famous and slightly goofy Bubble Room restaurant, past the post office and the tiny, quaint shopping district, Captiva Road makes a turn and deposits you at the front gate of South Seas. Unless you have business there, a reservation, or a slip or class in the marina, you aren’t getting any farther.  Blessedly, all the “business end” of the resort is concentrated in a low building at the entrance. Even the grocery, sundry, clothing stores and the spa that support the resort lifestyle are sequestered in a cottage-style complex outside the resort proper.  From here out the sea, sky, sand, and nature take center stage. All of the buildings, a mix of low-rise villas and pastel private homes, are tucked behind vegitation except where units with screened porches overlook the marina.
Communications Director Carolyn Hudson, the third generation of her family to enjoy the refuge that is Captiva, took me exploring.  Her family lives inland, but from the time she was eight years old, she and her brother would join their grandfather aboard his 42-foot sailboat for a summer vacation of fishing, swimming and running free on the beaches. The slow speed of a golf cart gave her time to tell stories and me time to absorb South Sea’s freshness. The osprey flying overhead, a wriggling mullet in its talons, was not a Disney prop. Around a bend we encountered the bird again, perched above her nest, busily shredding the catch for her chick.
“This place is all about family and nature and comfort,” says Carolyn. And open spaces; in this ecologically balanced resort there are just 470 guest accommodations from suites to entire houses. “Completely full, there would only be 1,000 guests.”
South Seas was purchased in 2006 by Blackstone Group as part of its LXR Properties.  “At first, Blackstone planned to reformulate it as a luxury property. The previous owners, the neighbors, some of our property owners, and even the original staff resisted. We told them, ‘don’t mess with a recipe that works.’ The executives listened. Blackstone has upgraded the property allowing it to become its own brand without changing its spirit,” says Carolyn, “something that has led to Parents Magazine naming it a Top 10 Resort for family vacations.”
Upgraded it is. The well-protected marina accommodates vessels to 121 feet at 2,300 linear feet of dock overseen by Harbor Master Robert Monaco and Dockmaster Charles Martz.  The marina is Wi-fi enabled and offers 30-, 50- and 100-amp-power and cable TV. The fuel dock dispenses ethanol-free gasoline and diesel. Included in each slip fee is access to all resort amenities, including restaurants, and the main swimming pool at The Pointe waterside complex with its H2Whoa! Waterslide.
“We get a mix of people who arrive in open boats and stay in our accommodations and cruisers,” said Robert. “Lots of times those owners will put their dinghies in the water to go off and explore—Cayo Costa island is fantastic for sand dollars—or I can set them up with a charter, in fact forty percent of our day charters are for shelling trips.” The sightseeing boat Lady Chadwick also takes guests on short trips around Pine Island Sound or for sunset cruises.
But you don’t have to be a naturalist or an old salt to enjoy the place and there are plenty of activities, one of which takes advantage of the fact that the marina is home to a branch of Offshore Sailing School. The resort’s Go! Programs—Go! Sail, Go! Fish and Go! Discover—provide introductions to sports for guest of all ages. Also available are nine challenging holes of oceanfront golf. Tennis players enjoy lessons, clinics and periodic round robin tournaments at the John Williams International Tennis Academy with 11 hard courts, four of which are lighted for night play.
It is the beach, however, that takes center stage. A beautiful natural dune covered in sea oats lies between the Gulf and residential areas like a slumbering body guard. Arched wooden bridges over the dune provide access. Shuffling along two and a-half miles of pristine beach picking up shells, I could be alone with my thoughts. This time I was not searching for perfection, but for a token; something to honor two women who found solace and inspiration at Captiva’s edge.