Flamingo Fifth Anniversary Issue by Flamingo Magazine

No.

C E LE B RATI N G

THE BESTk FLAMINGO

SINCE 2016

THE COLLECTOR’S EDITION

For Floridians. By Floridians.

FOOTBALL FIRSTS: The Florida Gators Who Changed the Game Forever

x FREEDIVING,

P LUS

TARPON FISHING & PANTHER TRACKING ACROSS THE STATE

Exclusive

FEMME FATALE

MEET q WOMEN HUNTING PYTHONS

FLORIDA DREAM DISCO V E RI NG TH E P E RFECTIONk LITTLE PALM ISLAND

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the art of T R O P I C A L D I S TA N C I N G ™

it's the little

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that kindness really does matter... you should always be do what you love... and try to make the world a

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yourself... better place!

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This Florida company loves to inspire people to “Give & Live Happy”! Patti Hughes of Ponte Vedra Beach, FL founded the global lifestyle brand, Natural Life, over 25 years ago. It all started with taking black & white photographs at the beach and framing them as keepsakes for the wholesale gift industry. Over the years, Natural Life’s product offering has grown alongside Patti’s personal interests! Her latest passion is designing comfortable, Bohemian clothes and outdoor treasures perfect for a Florida lifestyle.

Discover the magic of Natural Life at naturallife.com. Use the code “FLAMINGO” to enjoy 20% off your online purchase through May 2021.

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T O R E WA R D YO U R S E L F W I T H T H E F I N E S T F L O R I DA H A S T O O F F E R , O N LY PA R A D I S E W I L L D O.

PA R A D I S E C OA S T. C O M

F L O R I DA’ S PA R A D I S E COA S T

A DV E RTO R I A L

Paradise,Found Florida’s Paradise Coast stirs the wild and cultured at heart

ew things can keep our attention in today’s tech-obsessed world, but a sunset witnessed from the Naples Pier is one of them. A painter would find it challenging to recreate all of the colors that fill the sky during this nightly spectacle; perhaps that’s the reason so many artists are drawn to Florida’s Paradise Coast in search of inspiration. Paradise Coast, which encompasses Naples, Marco Island and Everglades City on Florida’s southwest coast, abounds with natural beauty.

Thirty miles of white sand beaches hug the Gulf of Mexico while native flora and fauna expand east throughout the Everglades, creating a diverse range of open-air experiences. On the coast, spend the day parasailing off Vanderbilt Beach, go shelling at South Marco Beach, charter a boat for a fishing excursion or dive Florida’s Paradise Coast Reef in search of the snapper, cobia and grouper that call the artificial reef home.

Above, clockwise: Swim among the fish at the Paradise Coast Reef; tap into your outdoorsy side at Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary; Patronize local businesses who have taken the Paradise Pledge.

In the Everglades, explore an unspoiled maze composed of estuaries, mangroves, swamps and forests where endangered wildlife like alligators and the Florida panther, as well as native botanicals such as ancient cypress trees, remain. Hike across the 2.5-mile boardwalk at Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary north of Naples. Canoe through more than 230 square miles of mangrove forest at Ten Thousand Islands, to which Marco Island belongs. East of there, take an airboat ride through the nearly 730,000 acres of protected swamp at Big Cypress National Preserve or explore Everglades National Park, America’s largest subtropical wilderness, which stretches out to the east of Everglades City. Beyond the Paradise Coast’s innate gifts— from the breathtaking beaches to the enchanting Everglades—its coastal communities teem with luxurious shopping and dining options. Stroll downtown Naples’ historic Fifth Avenue South, just blocks from the beach, where upscale boutiques are framed with Mediterranean architecture, and bistro seating spills out onto the sidewalks. Dine at award-winning restaurants led by Michelin-starred chefs serving up seafood fresh from the Gulf or tee off at one of the top-rated golf courses peppered throughout Naples and Marco Island. A hub for arts and culture, Paradise Coast celebrates the artists who call the area home with no shortage of galleries, museums, public art displays, annual craft festivals and so much more.

Travelers to Naples will be greeted by installations of public art that set the scene for a day spent gallery hopping at Third Street South’s Gallery Row, with a concentration of works by area residents, followed by an exploration of the Naples Art District, which features local artist-owned studios. There, you can watch artists at work, take a class, make a purchase or just simply enjoy. When given the option, support local businesses during your visit to the Paradise Coast, as many have taken the “Paradise Pledge” in order to elevate

their health and safety precautions to slow the spread of COVID-19. Find a list of participating businesses at paradisecoast.com/paradisepledge.

F E AT U R E S

THE PROMISE OF LITTLE PALM

LADY KILLERS OF THE GLADES

BREATHLESS

DOWN WHERE THE TARPON ROLL

The stomping ground of former presidents, pop stars and business moguls, Little Palm Island is one of the nation’s most luxurious retreats right in our own backyard.

You might be surprised to find who’s on the front lines of Florida’s python problem. Go deep into the Everglades with five fearless females hunting the invasive species.

BLACK PIONEERS OF SOUTHERN FOOTBALL

BY ERIC BARTON

BY CRAIG PITTMAN

BY ERIC BARTON

One touchdown by a Florida Gator against Alabama changed college football forever. Meet the Black players who pushed the Old South forward.

BY VICTOR MAZE

Plunge beneath the surface of one of the most dangerous water sports in the world. Learn how freedivers off the coast of Fort Lauderdale descend into the depths with just a single breath of air.

BY BUCKY MCMAHON

The Everglades have long been at the center of conservation debates, but as human meddling takes its toll, fishing guides warn that the River of Grass is running out of time.

CONTENTS 2021

Cover Photography by

MARY BETH KOETH

On the cover: Model Laura Castillo soaks in the sunshine on the boardwalk at Little Palm Island Resort & Spa.

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F E AT U R E S

104

114

122

132

144

BACK FROM THE BRINK

RIDING THE LIGHTNING

ONE LAST MIDNIGHT RIDE

STILTED, JILTED AND RE-BUILTED

LONG LOST LILLY

Florida panthers were hunted to nearextinction in the 1970s. Craig Pittman tells the unlikely story of the folks behind the effort to save our state animal and how these big cats clawed their way back.

Comedian and Florida man Bert Kreischer got his big break after being named the No. 1 partier in America in 1997. Since then, his career in entertainment has exploded.

Take a look back at the life of Gregg Allman, from his final album, Southern Blood, to his Florida roots, and get to know the late rock legend through the eyes of the people who knew him best.

Once a remote retreat for revelry and rumrunners, Stiltsville has endured hurricanes, fires and the wear and tear of the elements. But it turns out its biggest foe isn’t Mother Nature, it’s mankind.

BY CRAIG PITTMAN

BY JAMIE RICH

B Y S T E V E D O L LA R

B Y N I LA D O S I M O N

BY NANCY KLINGENER

Joyful neons, tropical prints and signature shifts are synonymous with the Lilly Pulitzer name, but it’s the barefoot Palm Beach socialite behind the brand that turned the dresses into timeless treasures.

This spread: The sun sets behind model Laura Castillo at Little Palm Island Resort & Spa. Photography by: Mary Beth Koeth Clothing: Cara Cara New York Maidstone dress Jewelry: Christa’s South Seashells Hair and makeup: Jesus Bravo

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CONTENTS 2021

D E PA R T M E N TS

00 20

000 159

WADING IN

COLUMNS

ON THE FLY

?? /// 22 /// T THE HE SPREAD: SPREAD: text Delight hereintext the here golden text here text here cocktails. Then goodness of mango the Flamingo where ?? /// M dive ADEinto IN FLA: text herevault, text here we learn the avoca-dos and -don’ts. text here text here

49 /// C APITAL DAME: Diane Roberts dares Floridians to think about what unfolded on the ground beneath their feet.

1?? /// 160 /// BP IRD’S-EYE LUME: An equally VIEW: text poignant here text and here text pungent here text account hereof Southern cooking by Ernie Matthew Mickler in 1?? /// G ROVE STAND: text here text here this throwback to Flamingo 2017 text here text here. 166 /// BIRD’S-EYE VIEW: The best of 1?? /// DESIGN DISTRICT: text here text here the beaches in Ponte Vedra and text here text here Jacksonville. Then from the archive, guide to good eats and 1?? /// F our LORIDIANA: text here text great here text sights in downtown DeLand here text here

28 ///T HE ADE IN FLA:text How a little ?? /// M STUDIO: here textrain here text helped Christa here text here Wilm’s upscale seashell business blossom. Plus, ?? /// O we NE-ON-ONE: text here look back attext coolhere Orlando text here text here entrepreneurs who invented the hottest brand in drinkware. ?? /// FLEDGLINGS: text here text here text here Discover the ancient 34 /// here T HE text STUDIO: art of Japanese paper cutting with Hiromi Moneyhun. Afterward, Santa Rosa Beach artist Gordie Hinds unites his passions on canvas in this story from the archives.

155 /// PANHANDLING: The indelible mark of a wonderfully wacky childhood brings Prissy Elrod to tears of sorrow and joy as she reflects on how her mother shaped her. 162 /// F LORIDA WILD: For five years, Carlton Ward Jr. chased photographs of Florida panthers in the Everglades. See the image that tells it all.

40 /// O NE-ON-ONE: Big Cat Rescue founder Carole Baskin gets real about what Tiger King got wrong. 44 /// FLEDGLINGS: Caroline Jones on honing her sound with the help of Jimmy Buffett. Then looking back to 2016, Emily Estefan finds her voice by blending her Miami upbringing with her musical prowess.

171 /// G ROVE STAND: In the kitchen with five standout Sunshine State chefs 182 /// DESIGN DISTRICT: First, a sustainable twist on Sarasota Mod. Then, Julia Starr Sanford on designing sleek and strong homes in Alys Beach from the 2019 archives 190 /// F LORIDIANA: A beloved pastime makes a resurgence in St. Pete. After that, get a taste of Old Florida with vintage souvenirs (the namesake of this deparment) from issue No. 1.

This spread: This tongue-in-cheek weather conch sign speaks to the laid-back, lose-all-sense-of-time vibe on LIttle Palm Island. Photography by Mary Beth Koeth

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Fun for generations.

Family vacations in The Keys never get old. Especially now, with idyllic temperatures, cobalt-blue skies and every watersport under the sun. Swim with dolphins. Enjoy world-class fishing and diving. Try kayaking or paddleboarding. Or just kick back and relax. There’s really nothing quite like it. Pass it on. fla-keys.com 1.800.fla.keys For the latest protocols on health & safety in The Florida Keys, please visit our website.

Sunset Key Cottages

An exclusive tropical island sanctuary of charming cottages, Latitudes beachfront dining and unforgettable sunsets await you, a boat ride away. 855-995-9799 or 305-292-5300 sunsetkeycottages.com

Havana Cabana at Key West

Waterfront resort with the largest pool in Key West, Floridita food truck & Mojito bar. Vespa and bicycle rentals available. 855-235-3912 or 305-294-5541 havanacabanakeywesthotel.com

Key Largo Bay Marriott Beach Resort Experience a relaxing waterfront retreat located on 17 lush acres in Key Largo. Features a spa, marina and dive shop. 855-410-3911 or 305-453-0000 marriottkeylargo.com

Ocean Key Resort & Spa

The island’s best. Elegant interiors boast shades of indigo, turquoise and lime. All blend effortlessly into this tropical dream. 800-328-9815 oceankey.com

Barbary Beach House Key West

Key West’s brand new resort, where the beach is your front yard. Discover our alluring suites inspired by maritime history. 855-235-3914 or 305-292-9800 barbarybeachhousekeywest.com

Little Palm Island Resort & Spa

Exclusive and elegant. Thirty oceanfront suites, perfectly appointed in authentic thatched bungalows. Consistently named among the world’s best. 800-343-8567 littlepalmisland.com

Dolphin Research Center

Swim with dolphins – the ultimate vacation thrill! Reserve online and experience dolphins at our beautiful, natural, world-renowned, non-profit center. 305-289-0002 dolphins.org

Island Villa Rental Properties

Stay a week or forever...Plan your island escape today and call Island Villa Rental Properties. Vacations & Locations. 305-664-3333 islandvilla.com

The Perry Hotel Key West

With immaculate accommodations, delectable dining, a state-of-the-art marina, and 5-star service, The Perry Hotel is an experience you’ll never forget. 305-296-1717 perrykeywest.com

Key Largo Cottages All Inclusive Activities FREE with Cottage: Sailboat, SUP, Kayak, Sail, Bike, Fish, Snorkel, PLUS Learn to Dive/Sail Available! 305-451-3438 keylargocottages.com/summer

Opal Key Resort & Marina

Full-service resort located in Old Town Key West. Dining, marina, watersports, shopping and nightly Sunset Celebration on-site. 855-366-8045 or 305-294-4000 opalkeywest.com

Faro Blanco Resort & Yacht Club

Set on Marathon’s waterfront, this seaside retreat features a full-service marina, hotel, restaurant, and historic lighthouse. 305-743-1234 faroblancoresort.com

EDITOR’S NOTE

five fabulous years

around the Sunshine State for superior storytelling, photography and design. Of course, there have been challenges. Take hurricanes, for example—a unique problem for a Florida publisher. For three years straight, storms tore through the state’s beloved landscape, devastating our staff, contributors and advertising partners. One of our team members even lost her home. Yet the biggest storm that we’ve had to weather has been COVID-19. You can read about how the pandemic impacted Flamingo in last summer’s editor’s note, “My Coronavirus Story,” but in short: We paused printing and hunkered down. A few months into our hiatus, a good friend said to me, “Your magazine is a piece of art. It’s just not the same reading it online.” I missed the magazine too, but our online traffic was up 200 percent, and I was happy about that. Around the same time, a call came into the office from an older gentleman asking if we were ever going to go back to print. I told him we weren’t sure, but that our website had grown tremendously. After all, we were producing more content than ever, and he should be receiving our newsletter and just … stick with us. I paused, waiting

for him to politely request a refund or say that he didn’t like reading magazines on a computer. “Whoever thought of this magazine is brilliant,” he said, not knowing he was speaking to the founder. “It’s so thoughtful, smart, well-designed and really shows the true culture of Florida. I’ll keep subscribing, but I hope it comes back to print.” “Thank you so much,” I said, smiling through the phone. “I’ll let them know.” That call was the crack of sunlight that allowed me to start considering producing the magazine again. Around the same time, we launched our “Flamingo Friends” campaign, which called on readers to support the work we do. Our readers showed up and truly saved Flamingo during the height of the pandemic. Then the Florida Magazine Association named Flamingo 2020 Magazine of the Year. To be sure, it was bittersweet attending the awards gala via Zoom from my kitchen, but the recognition for years of work couldn’t have come at a more welcome time. Today, you’re holding our team’s tribute to the highlights of the past five years, with a wink to the future of what has become Florida’s magazine. I’m proud to present our fifth anniversary issue, the Best of Flamingo Collector’s Edition. It’s different from all the issues that came before it—bigger, glossier, but no less authentic Florida. Longtime readers will recognize some of our most popular stories from the archive, presented here in their original form. There are also new, never-beforeseen stories, trips, recipes, music, art and Floridians to inspire you. And for those of you just picking up Flamingo for the first time, welcome to the flock. I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

E di tor i n Chi ef & F o u n d e r

let us know what you think. Email me at editor@flamingomag.com

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MARY BETH KOETH

looked down at my watch as the minute hand rolled over the 12—it read 6 a.m. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the night had flown by. “I’ve got to go,” I blurted out to my bleary-eyed colleague Holly, who was staring at a glowing screen. Our eyes were bloodshot, our minds delirious from days of sleep deprivation. “I’m still cranking,” she said. “You go. Just make sure you come back,” she joked. I grabbed my purse and ran out of the Flamingo office, which was wallpapered from floor to ceiling with draft page layouts and potential cover options. “I’ll bring Starbucks!” I tossed back. It was spring of 2016, and our small team was hurtling toward the deadline to upload 108 pages of Flamingo’s premier issue to the printer. My husband was traveling for work, and I was juggling the childcare for our two daughters, then 9 and 4. Holly, Flamingo’s creative director, and I had planned on leaving the office at midnight, along with the others on our team. But by then, we were in the groove. Around 8 a.m., my then-executive editor Christina arrived, refreshed (sort of). “You guys never left?” she said, shocked to see Holly and I sipping our grande Starbucks drinks and in the same clothes as the day before. We all burst out laughing. (No, I hadn’t changed clothes when I left to drop my kids off at school. That would have taken too much time.) Those early days were as fun as they were grueling. We worked a ton, but I think we laughed even more as we poured our hearts into those first issues. Through the years, our small crew grew, adding team members who became friends and friends who became team members (you know who you are). Our approach to making the magazine improved with every edition. At some point, we went from a scrappy startup to an award-winning magazine recognized

Connect with what matters most.

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Learn about our new Golf & Leisure Packages. PonteVedra.com/offers 844.648.8833

MARY BETH KOETH launched her career as a designer for Hallmark, where she spent her weekends traveling Europe snapping photos. Her hobby led to a career change. She studied photography and apprenticed in Norway and Los Angeles before branching out on her own. Today, the awardwinning photographer’s work has appeared on the covers of Time and ESPN magazines and in the pages of countless national and international media outlets. Koeth lives in Miami and has shot for Flamingo since 2016. See her amazing work in our cover story and throughout this issue.

NILA DO SIMON is an awardwinning journalist and editor who has contributed to Condé Nast Traveler, Garden & Gun, The New York Times and Venice. The Florida Magazine Association recognized her for best feature writing and feature headline writing. She has written for Flamingo since 2017, with profiles on tennis star Sloane Stephens and the unique South Florida community of Stiltsville, which makes a comeback in this issue as one of our all-time best. In addition, her latest Flamingo piece profiles Jacksonville-based artist Hiromi Moneyhun, who creates spellbinding works by cutting paper.

LIBBY VOLGYES is a food and beverage photographer based in South Florida who has been photographing chefs and culinary culture for Flamingo since 2017. In 2019, she won international accolades for the portrait project Faces of Food, where she photographed more than 95 chefs, bartenders, farmers and pastry artists in her community. She enjoys walking her Rhodesian ridgeback, Talulah, making lattes and cocktails, and traveling to quasi-obscure locales. She takes her bourbon neat and her coffee sweet. Check out her photos of mango cocktail creations in this anniversary edition.

In the past five years, awardwinning journalist CRAIG PITTMAN has written stories for Flamingo about springs, panthers, manatees, greyhound racing, python hunting and Ross Allen, the snake man of Silver Springs. His panther story led to his latest book, Cat Tale: The Wild, Weird Battle to Save the Florida Panther. “As a native Floridian, I identify strongly with endangered species,” he says. He also writes a weekly column for the Florida Phoenix and co-hosts a podcast, “Welcome to Florida.” His next book, The State You’re In: Florida Men, Florida Women, and Other Wildlife, will publish this fall.

“Make art a part of your everyday life” has been LESLIE CHALFONT’S lifetime mantra. It has guided her painting and designing of lifestyle products for home decor and entertaining. Her love of maps evolved into a niche illustration collection. Chalfont’s watercolor maps have appeared in Flamingo since 2016, and her work has been featured in Southern Living and on NBC’s Today. Most recently she was named “one to watch” by Stationery Trends. Leslie gains her greatest inspiration from her Florida roots. In this issue, she paints Flamingo’s home base of Ponte Vedra Beach.

STEVE DOLLAR, a Tallahassee native and Flamingo contributor since 2017, has written about film, music, art and other popular culture for a wide range of publications including The Wall Street Journal, Newsday, The Washington Post, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Sun, The Atlanta JournalConstitution, GQ, Playboy. com, Artnews, Indiewire and Filmmaker magazine. Steve is also the artistic director for the Tallahassee Film Festival, which returns in fall 2021. In this issue of Flamingo, Dollar examines the life and times of legendary musician and Floridian Gregg Allman.

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JAMIE KUJAL A , COURTESY OF THE CONTRIBUTORS

CONTRIBUTORS

What childhood looked like before Wifi. Remember treehouses, bikes, canoes, fishing poles, bowling, s’mores, playing tag, and jumping in rain puddles? We still do that here.

MONTAGE.COM

DISCOVER LIFE, WELL LIVED

(866) 976-6413

CONTRIBUTORS

ISSUE

For Floridians. By Floridians.

• FOUNDED IN 2016 •

STEPHEN LOMAZZO calls Eau Gallie his childhood

home. It was there that he was warped in the late ’70s by Spaghetti Os, Kool-Aid and Saturday morning TV. He learned to drive in a 1931 Model A Ford, can wiggle his ears and graduated from the Savannah College of Art & Design. Lomazzo has been a Flamingo contributor since 2016, and his work shines throughout this anniversary edition. Check out his black-and-white illustrations in “the Black Pioneers of Southern Football” and One-on-One with Carole Baskin, as well as a color sketch in Panhandling.

— 20 2 1 —

EDITORIAL Editor in Chief and Founder JAMIE RICH jamie@flamingomag.com Assistant Editor Jessica Giles jessica@flamingomag.com Consulting Creative Director Holly Keeperman holly@flamingomag.com Contributing Senior Designer Ellen Patch ellen@flamingomag.com

MADDY ZOLLO RUSBOSIN is an Orlando-based writer and style expert. In addition to regularly curating Flamingo’s Made in Florida and Gift Guide departments since 2017, Rusbosin has written for Cosmopolitan, Robb Report, Southern Living, Women’s Health and Orlando magazine. When she’s not writing, she’s hanging out with her 9-monthold daughter, Jackie. Now, after writing about Christa Wilm and her amazing seashell art in this anniversary issue, she may just pick up shelling as a new hobby this summer.

Senior Writer and Cont ributin g Editor Eric Barton eric@flamingomag.com Cont ributin g Writers Michael Adno, Steve Dollar, Prissy Elrod, Nan Kavanaugh, Nancy Klingener, Victor Maze, Bucky McMahon, Alyssa Morlacci, Craig Pittman, Diane Roberts, Maddy Zollo Rusbosin, Nila Do Simon, Xuan Thai, Carlton Ward Jr. Contributing Photographers & Illustrators Leslie Chalfont, Beth Gilbert, Mary Beth Koeth, Stephen Lomazzo, Jessie Preza, Birgit Singh, Libby Volgyes, Mark Wallheiser, Carlton Ward Jr. Copy Editors & Fact Checkers Jeanne Craig, Katherine Shy Editorial Interns Maureen Hozey, Sophie Feinberg

SALES & MARKETING Publisher JAMIE RICH jamie@flamingomag.com Advertising Sales Megan Zebouni megan@flamingomag.com For general inquiries email advertising@flamingomag.com Contact Us JSR Media LLC 100 Executive Way, Suite 106 Ponte Vedra Beach, FL 32082 P: (904) 395-3272 hello@flamingomag.com

MARK WALLHEISER is a Tallahassee-based photojournalist who has worked as a staff photographer for two newspapers and a freelancer for magazines such as Sports Illustrated and Newsweek. Wallheiser was individually nominated for two Pulitzer Prizes, one in 1988 for a series on crack cocaine in Tallahassee and the second in 2016 for an image of then-presidential candidate Donald Trump. Wallheiser has been photographing for Flamingo since 2018. In this edition, he captures the magic of Tallahassee pastry chef Sylvia Gould in the kitchen.

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All content in this publication, including but not limited to text, photos and graphics, is the sole property of and copyrighted by JSR Media and Flamingo. Reproduction without permission from the publisher is prohibited. We take no responsibility for images or content provided by our advertisers.

JSR MEDIA

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L ACE Y IRVING, HAL YEAGER , COURTESY OF THE CONTRIBUTORS

NAN KAVANAUGH is a sixth-generation Floridian and an award-winning editor and writer. Having lived on the Gulf and Atlantic coasts, as well as the swamplands in between, she has a deep appreciation for the cultures and biodiversity of the Sunshine State. Her editorial work, poetry and fiction have appeared in Venice, Edible Northeast Florida, Amelia Islander Magazine, Bridge Eight Literary Magazine, 15 Views of Jacksonville, and (A) River Rising: An Anthology of Women’s Voices. In this issue, Kavanaugh travels to her hometown of Sarasota to write about its signature architecture.

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ou’ll know you’ve arrived when the sand beneath your feet is so soft it squeaks—one of the distinct characteristics of Navarre Beach. The coastal town, centrally located on Florida’s Panhandle between Pensacola and Destin, is synonymous with wideopen spaces and outdoor excursions. The sunrise, best experienced from Navarre Beach Marine Park, sets the tone for a replenishing visit. Views of the unobstructed and unspoiled waterfront frame a picturesque scene of birds singing and soaring through the golden morning light.

A destination for families to reconnect with the outdoors, Navarre Beach is a waterman’s playground. Cast a line from the Gulf of Mexico’s longest fishing pier, which stretches more than 1,500 feet long; or meet the sea turtle named Sweet Pea who calls the Navarre Beach Sea Turtle Conservation Center home. Swim with local marine life by snorkeling one of nearly 30 artificial reef sites that are located just a few hundred feet from the shore, or rent a tube, kayak or SUP to float or paddle down Coldwater Creek, located north of the historic city of Milton.

Santa Rosa County also offers plenty of experiences for landlubbers, including outdoor concerts during spring and summer events like Tunes by the Dunes at Sand Crab Pavilion and Bands on the Blackwater in downtown Milton. You can also try ziplining through the longleaf pine forest canopies at the Adventures Unlimited Outdoor Center. Before retiring after a day spent on the water or zipping through the treetops, watch the sun dip over the Gulf from the fishing pier with the same magic as that morning’s sunrise. Relax in boutique accommodations, such as Coldwater Gardens’s Modern Treehouse, an elevated wooden home standing tall among the magnolias. Although it’s situated less than a one-hour drive from the coast, you will feel like you’ve traveled millions of miles away.

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FLAMBOYANCE

TH O U GHTS F R OM THE F LOCK

—Debbie R., Naples, FL

I had to take a moment to thank you for and congratulate you on running that amazing James Beard story by Eric Barton in Flamingo, online Fall 2020. Number one, Eric is a great writer and he did a great job. The piece was beautifully crafted and expertly edited. But also, how refreshing to see longform journalism in 2020 and not have it relegated to The New Yorker or The Atlantic but in a publication like Flamingo that has such a specific regional focus. Thank you for giving the topic and the writer the space it needed to be fully fleshed out and really deliver thoughtful insights. It’s rare these days, a piece like this. Thank you for giving it a home. Be well! —Larry C., Miami, FL

Love, love, love this article “The Great Mow Show,” Winter 2021. Who would have thought I’d grow up with something like lawnmower right around the corner from me and never knew? —Lindsay W., Auburn, AL

Picking a favorite story is like having to choose a favorite child, so here are my top three Flamingo picks: “Swamp Sacraments” by Diane Roberts. I never understood the allure of a swamp, until now. Major bonus that the article is so elegantly written. “Hunting Pythons with the Ladies of the Glades” by Craig Pittman. His writing informs AND entertains, which is appreciated, given the often-dire state of politics and the environment in Florida. “Does Florida’s Water Spring Eternal?” by Bucky McMahon. The first line, “All water is holy water,” instantly became one of my favorite lines in literature. So true, now more than ever. The entire first paragraph of the article is near perfection. There are other lifestyle magazines, but the quality of the writing sets Flamingo apart and a cut above. Just subscribed and looking forward to the anniversary edition. —Dorothy B., Lakeland, FL

Just happened to pick up the Spring 2019 issue of this cool magazine at my local nail place in Vero Beach. I like reading about interesting niche places and people and get tired of the millionaire view of Florida. I lived in Miami in the ’70s and worked in Coral Gables. I remember the old dilapidated Amsterdam Hotel that became the Versace mansion when lots of old people lined the South Beach streets in their lawn chairs. What a treasure it is. I’ve been in Colorado for 40 years now and also have a cute condo in Vero Beach. I appreciated your article on cannabis. We are out in the open and enjoying cannabis in many forms for both recreational and medicinal use in Colorado and to paraphrase John Morgan from the article: It’s just a matter of time before we can all come out of the shadows to enjoy cannabis for the wonderful plant it is. And, another fine piece on the FSU campus murders by Diane Roberts. I was living in Miami at the time, and it was horrific. I appreciate that Roberts mentioned Lisa Levy and Margaret Bowman by name many times, and I wish we could all forget the murderer’s name. All the best to you and your creative staff. Great photos and lots to keep me interested through my whole pedicure! —Donna B., Boulder, CO & Vero Beach, FL

Read the article “Change in the Tide for Women’s Surfing” in the Winter 2019 issue on a flight to Caymans for vacay. Love learning about badass boss babes like Zoe Benedetto! Also love a magazine that profiles girl power! Right on. —Heather L., St. Petersburg, FL

So excited for this special Summer issue! Thank you guys for all that you are doing during this very trying time to continue to bring us stories of our state. It always brightens my day to open your newsletter with events, news, your fun polls, and an uplifting story to remind us that there’s always something to smile about. I am so looking forward to when you are able to deliver your stunning and insightful publication to my mailbox, but in the meantime, I’m confident that there will be plenty of the beautifully written stories that I have come to expect and appreciate from Flamingo in this digital issue. Thank you, again, for being a bright spot for us during socially distanced days. —Patty G., DeLand, FL

Y’all, I am so obsessed with your magazine. Outstanding work showcasing authentic Florida. Thank you! —Eleni S., Bradenton, FL

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I keep copies of Flamingo magazine in my car because I keep talking about how great the magazine is, and I want everyone to enjoy it. - Kimberly P., Stuart, FL

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GINNIE SPRINGS, MARK WALLHEISER

Flamingo, you are so funkadelic! I loved the P-Funk feature, Fall 2018, highlighting the Mothership. Makes me miss the days of living in sweet and sassy Tallahassee— knowing you may just bump into him at Publix. —Gina C., West Chester, PA

I often retell the story of Lilly Pulitzer that I read in Flamingo magazine. Lilly Pulitzer is iconic Florida, and it was a beautiful story about her. I think it should be required reading for anyone that works in a Lilly Pulitzer store here.

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The unknown general who fought the Seminole leader Osceola

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WADING IN — The Spread —

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patrol the levees in Big Cypress National Preserve.

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Pick a cause. Any Cause. What do you love most about the Florida outdoors? The incredible variety of wild species? The expansive waterways and unique landscapes? The endless recreational opportunities? Whatever it is, the Fish & Wildlife Foundation of Florida is committed to helping you support it. Through our many partnerships with conservation and education programs statewide, we’ve raised and donated more than $45 million since 1994. The best part is, your donation goes to the cause of your choice. So pick a project. Choose a charity. Find a fund. And show some love to what you love most about Florida’s wildlife.

FIND YOUR CAUSE FOR THE WILD. WILDLIFEFLORIDA.ORG

CONSERVING NATURE AND OUR OUTDOOR HERITAGE

WADING IN :THE SPREAD FLO RIDA-F R ESH BITES & BEVS

By St e v e D o l l a r • P h o t o g ra p h y b y L i b b y Vo l g y es

Mango Mania The iconic Florida fruit instantly elevates a typical summer cocktail to a tropical triumph

This page:

Mangoes add the perfect amount of Florida flavor to a daiquiri.

ith its neon hue and incandescent sweetness, the mango has been kicking life into the world’s cuisines since at least 4,000 B.C. The chutneys and lassis of its native South Asia, the salsas of the Caribbean, the sticky rice desserts of Thailand—all elevated by the sensory pizzazz of this tropical stone fruit. This cousin of the pistachio and the cashew thrives across the warmer latitudes of the world,

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including in Florida, where the mango grows in the shadow of the Sunshine State’s more signature crop, the orange. “The color is amazing,” says Jason Springer, beverage director for Fly Bar and Restaurant and Hotel Bar in Tampa. “Mango is extremely bright, juicy and refreshing. That tropical flavor is appealing in Florida.” The mango is a natural boon to at-home mixology, surely not limited to rum-soaked boat drinks served in

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WADING IN :THE SPREAD FLOR IDA-F R ESH BITES & BEVS

oversized hurricane glasses. Springer suggests it makes a fun alternative for libations that usually call for orange, pineapple or other fructoseintensive juices. Take this margarita, for instance, in which the mango juice finds a zesty complement in sliced jalapeno pepper. “It gets the brightness from the juice and that nice bite and spiciness from the jalapeno,” Springer says. “It’s an easy cocktail for someone to recreate.” The bartender also replaces the traditional salt around the glass rim with Tajín, a Mexican chili-lime seasoning. “It pulls everything together.” Of course, mango makes a natural tropical companion for rum, Springer says, calling them “the perfect pairing for a summer drink.” For his mango daiquiri, he uses Plantation 3 Stars rum, which blends aged and unaged spirits from Jamaica, Trinidad and Barbados. “While mangoes are sweet, they are also citrusy and tart.” He adds lime juice for balance. “It leaves you with a delightfully sweet but refreshing cocktail.” Juicers make it very easy to get the best out of a mango. Peel, quarter, remove the pit, blend the sticky flesh and strain before mixing. Canned juice is easier to come by, but is sweeter, Springer cautions. Another option is a package of frozen mango pieces combined with the other ingredients in a blender, ideal for folks who like their daiquiris thick and icy.

Mango Daiquiri Makes 1 cocktail 2 ounces white rum 1 ounce fresh mango juice 1/4 o unce fresh lime juice, plus a lime wheel for garnish 1/4 ounce simple syrup PREPARATION: Add the rum, mango juice, lime juice and simple syrup to a cocktail shaker. Add ice, and shake until well mixed. Strain into a chilled coupe or martini glass. Garnish with a lime wheel. For those who like a thick and icy daiquiri, use frozen mangoes and blend.

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MANGROW MASTER

This fruit can flourish in your own backyard Want to grow your own mangoes? You can cultivate them from a seed or a tree graft, but the easiest way is to buy a ready-to-plant tree. Typically, the fleshy fruit flourishes in central to southern parts of the

state. Mostly, that means Dade, Lee and Palm Beach counties, where the fruit is grown commercially. The closer to the coast the better. The mango’s many varieties are distinguished by an ombre color palette of reddish purple to green to yellow. “It really depends on your preference,” says Megan Bichotte, a sales associate at Miami’s MiMo Garden Center, where the Momi K variety comes in a 7-gallon bucket and runs about $150. At nearly 5 feet tall, a Momi K tree will do well near a large window or outside in full or partial sunlight. It will need a planter 14 to 20 inches in diameter or a hole in the ground about 20 inches in diameter and lots of water, about every other day. “You usually get fruit the second or third year, and so on,” Bichotte says. “It’s a tree you need patience for.”

Spicy Mango Margarita Makes 1 cocktail 2 ounces blanco tequila 2 ounces fresh mango juice 1/4 o unce fresh lime juice, plus a lime wheel for garnish 1/2 ounce agave syrup 5 pieces of jalapeno Tajín seasoning for garnish PREPARATION: Rub the rim of a glass with lime and then dip in Tajín. Set aside. Add four pieces of jalapeno and agave to a cocktail shaker. Muddle well. Next add tequila, mango juice, lime juice and some ice, and shake until well chilled. Strain into prepared glass filled with ice. Garnish with jalapeno and a lime wheel.

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CELEBRATING

SOUTHERN FAVORITES

IN A SINGLE DISH.

This simple one-pan dish is full of the flavors of some of your Louisiana favorites! The Pan Seared NY Strip with Louisiana Shrimp Cream Sauce by Chef Cory Bahr is the perfect, easy weeknight meal with Tony Chachere’s bringing out all of the beefy flavors and juicy goodness.

Pan Seared New York Strip with Simple Louisiana Shrimp Cream Sauce INGREDIENTS:  



     

NY Strip Steak Tony Chachere’s Steakhouse Marinade Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning Olive Oil Shallots & Garlic Shrimp White Wine Heavy Cream Green Onion

TONYCHACHERE.COM

DIRECTIONS: 1 Marinate 4 steaks in 1 cup of Tony Chachere’s Steakhouse Marinade for 30 minutes. 2 Once finished marinating, season both sides of the NY strip steaks with Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning. Pat in and let rest. 3 Preheat a skillet for 3 minutes on medium-high heat. Add olive oil to your skillet. Place the steak in the skillet and sear 4 minutes on each side. 4 Add the chopped shallots and garlic to the skillet. Sauté for 2-3 minutes, until shallots are tender. 5 Add the shrimp to the skillet with 2 dashes of Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning. Add 2 tablespoons of white wine and a splash of heavy cream. Add a few pinches of chopped green onion. Let reduce for 1 minute until it has thickened. 6 Add your shrimp and sauce on top of the steaks and serve.

    

WADING IN :THE SPREAD

SUMMER 2016

FLOR IDA-F R ESH BITES & BEVS

By Xu a n T h a i • P h o t o g ra p h y b y Jessi e P reza

Different Kind of “Gator” GO GREEN THIS SUMMER WITH fresh-off-the-tree avocado recipes for dips and sips.

he avocado, also known as the alligator pear because of its rough, reptilian skin, is the inspiration for a menu with serious culinary chomps (er, chops) at the award-winning AVOCADO GRILL in downtown West Palm Beach. Flamingo sat down with owner and chef Julien Gremaud, who honors Floridians’ penchant for certain varietals and shares his secrets for impressing guests with the fleshy, seed-bearing fruit. »

This page: Avocado Grill’s ginger guacamole

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“I’m a huge fan of the avocado,” says Gremaud, who grew up in St. Tropez. “It’s creamy, fatty, but of course a good fat, and mild. I just think it goes with everything.” Chef Gremaud uses more than 400 avocados a day at his restaurant, which is decked out in lime-colored leather booths and subway tiles, along with its lighted “AG” sign. One of AG’s most popular dishes is ginger guacamole. This zesty version of Gremaud’s classic guac evolved out of a home-cooking experiment. He loved the result so much, he put AVOCADO it on the restaurant’s menu. The GRILL ginger root adds an unexpected — LOCATION — 125 DATURA STREET bite and earthiness to the chunks of WEST PALM BEACH ripe avocado, tomato and — HOURS — red onion. MON–THURS 11:30 A.M.–10 P.M. FRI 11:30 A.M.–11 P.M. Florida boasts its own avocado, a SAT 11 A.M.–11 P.M. bit larger in size and with a greener, SUN 11 A.M.–9 P.M. smoother skin than the well-known avocadogrillwpb.com Hass. Gremaud says that locals prefer the Hass over its beefier cousin, and he also favors it for making guacamole, which demands a concentrated flavor. However, he says, the Florida avocado works better in salads. Ready-to-eat avocados should be soft but not too soft. “When you push it, the skin should not go with it. That would be over-ripe,” Gremaud says.

Above: Grilled Florida avocado salad (recipe at flamingomag.com) Below: Chef Julien Gremaud uses more than 400 avocados a day.

Avocado Grill’s Ginger Guacamole S e rv e s 4 t o 6 3 ripe Hass avocados 3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice 2 tablespoons diced tomato 3 tablespoons chopped cilantro 2 tablespoons diced red onion 2 tablespoons diced jalapeno 1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped ginger 1 tablespoon Sriracha Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

PREPARATION: Slice avocados in half lengthwise and discard seeds. Scoop meat out of shell with a spoon. Place in a bowl. Add the juice of half a lime immediately to prevent browning. Use a fork to mash avocado to desired consistency. Add tomato, cilantro, onion, jalapeno, ginger and Sriracha. Stir gently to mix ingredients. Add remainder of lime juice and season with salt and pepper. Stir slightly, just until ingredients are incorporated. Serve with tortilla chips.

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Avocadoville

MUDDLE, SHAKE AND DRINK THIS AVOCADO MARGARITA MASHUP AT YOUR NEXT FIESTA.

PHOTOGR APHY BY (THIS PAGE) JESSIE PREZA; (OPPOSITE PAGE) AVOCADO GRILL

urn Margaritaville into Avocadoville by elevating the gator pear beyond classic chip ’n’ dip fare. Place a scoop of green, along with gold tequila and agave nectar, in a cocktail shaker to make an avocado margarita fit for Mr. Buffett himself. But before wasting away in Avocadoville, go native by picking the fruit directly off a tree in your own backyard. Although most commercial avocados grow on farms in South Florida, according to a University of Florida report, the trees can bear fruit throughout the state. Seth Stottlemyer, owner of Oasis Gardenscapes in Sarasota, advises home growers to select a healthy avocado tree, avoiding rootbound trees or large trees in small containers since they may not grow properly once planted. Avocado trees do best in welldrained soil and, like most Floridians, enjoy full sun. Depending on the variety, says Stottlemyer, avocado trees and their fruit can grow fairly large, providing the perfect amount of shade for sipping and dipping.

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Avocado Margarita S e rv e s 1 2 slices of Hass avocado 1/4 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice 3/4 ounce agave nectar 1 1/2 ounces Maestro Dobel tequila 1/2 ounce Cointreau 2 1 /2 ounces homemade sour mix (Recipe at flamingomag.com) PREPARATION: In a shaker tin, muddle 1 avocado slice, agave nectar and lime juice. Add tequila, Cointreau, homemade sour mix and ice. Shake vigorously. Serve in a margarita glass over ice. Garnish with another slice of avocado.

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WADING IN :MADE IN FLA B y Ma d d y Z o l l o R u sb o si n

A shore thing A rainy day project blossoms into a bespoke business venture

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From above: A bust by Wilm in the spa at The Breakers Palm Beach; Wilm decorates busts with purchased and collected shells. Opposite: A custom commission at the Gasparilla Inn Beach Club in Boca Grande

CARMEL BR ANTLE Y, THE BREAKERS PALM BEACH, CHRISTA WILM

very Floridian understands just how unfortunate it is when a friend comes to visit the so-called “Sunshine State” and it pours for the entirety of their stay. When this very thing happened to Christa Wilm, she had no idea that her rainy weekend stuck inside would become the catalyst for a future business venture. With beach walks and al fresco lunches off the table, she and her friend turned to a crafting project. “My then-partner said he’d cut us some mirrors, and that we should head to a seashell shop to keep ourselves busy,” Wilm recalls. After a trip to Shell World, a local souvenir shop, Wilm came home with a basket of seashells she

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fashioned into a charming homemade mirror that immediately caught the attention of customers at her store on Antique Row in Palm Beach. Before long, Wilm began to visit auctions and collect decorative boxes, small chests, sconces and busts to adorn with shells and display in her shop. “I also had a friend who sent me Cuban cigar boxes to encrust,” she says. Her innate sense of creativity paired with her collector’s nature—as a child, she was always outside hunting for nests, feathers, bones and rocks to bring home—turned her

hobby into a full-blown passion project that would eventually blossom into Christa’s South Seashells. While Wilm has been a resident of Palm Beach for nearly 40 years, the Colorado native had an eclectic journey before settling down in Florida. After attending the University of Missouri’s journalism school, she packed her bags and headed to Washington, D.C., to work as a press secretary and TV producer during the Reagan years. Post-capital, she moved to Boston, where she took graduate classes at Harvard in archaeology and English and Italian Literature; she also spent a lot of time traveling abroad in Germany and Italy. Looking back, her time overseas planted a seed for her appreciation of shell art: “I just fell in love with the Italian grottoes, and in Munich, there were these beautiful pergolas in the heart of town with fountains in them made of river shells,” she says. Once Wilm began creating shell art of her own, she used these intricate structures for inspiration. “The first time I realized I could turn this into a real business was when an editor from Architectural Digest came into my antique shop and suggested I create a brochure and website displaying my work and advertise with them,” Wilm says. Not long after her ads began running, her phone wouldn’t stop ringing. “It really set me on the map,” she continues. As time passed, and her reputation grew, her adorned mirrors and other giftable treasures evolved into more complex, grandiose pieces like chandeliers, fireplaces, candelabras and wall sculptures, leading her to phase out the antiques side of her business entirely after 23 years in 2008. These large-scale projects meant she couldn’t rely just on local beach shops or her own shelling excursions anymore, so she began to work with some of the top shell purveyors in the world. She also started incorporating other natural objects like coral and stone that she acquired from the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show in Arizona.

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WADING IN :MADE IN FLA Beach Beauties

Add an Elegant, coastal touch to your jewelry box Coral-skirted Exotic Conus Vermeil Earrings:

Olive-colored conus shells accented with coral pieces make for a statement accesory. $695

From a 25-foot-high fireplace in the too show-stopping to be lost in a larger Gasparilla Inn & Club to column and installation), along with precious and semidecorative crown installations in Miami precious gemstones. Beach’s Faena Hotel to wall paneling for the “I’m a collector at heart, Bellagio’s Mayfair Supper Club in Las Vegas, so I’ve always sought out Wilm’s work graces the interiors of some of the most marvelous shells the nation’s most luxurious properties, in along with stones, fossils both the commercial and private sectors. and dendrites for my “One of my favorite projects was inside works,” Wilm explains. “I one of the mansions on Bellevue Avenue in desperately love bespoke, Newport, Rhode Island. The owner crusty shells that wanted to build a grotto with a look like they have CHRISTA’S a provenance and secret spa for his granddaughter. He SOUTH had such vision, and it truly was a SEASHELLS a story to tell.” magnificent project,” she says. Her preference for — LOCATION — 728 BELVEDERE ROAD “I feel like people are always oddities, like scraggly WEST PALM BEACH trying to stump me with wild ideas corals “with movement” — HOURS — or requests. However, the thing I’m or poca corals that MON–FRI: 11 A.M.–5 P.M. SATURDAY: 12 P.M.–5 P.M. still waiting to create is a kinetic shell look like rose petals, csseashell.com sculpture, so one that moves.” has Wilm always on While some custom commissions the hunt. While she’s require hundreds of thousands of shells, importing things from all over other projects, like bespoke evening bags at the world, like meteorites from Germany Ralph Lauren’s Paris show in 2011 or her and Russia, ammonites from Morocco and ready-to-wear jewelry collection, require crystals from South America, Wilm is still Wilm’s keen eye and discretion in selecting known to grab a bucket and go shelling at the very best materials. It’s these delicate her local beach. After all, as the saying goes pieces where she showcases her most in the antique world, it’s all about the thrill extraordinary shells (the ones she deems of the find.

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Mushroom Coral & Shell Brooch:

A garnet gemstone draws the eye to the center of this red scallop shell. $475

Vermeil Charm Bracelet: A

delicate mixture of ancient Roman glass, gold-edged shells and pearls $475

Neutral Landscape Agate Onyx Earrings:

Calico shells coupled with black and tan agate drops $625

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CHRISTA WILM, BIRGIT SINGH

Above: Wilm’s work adorns the walls of the Mayfair Supper Club at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.

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Visit FloridasHistoricCoast.com to learn more.

SUMMER 2017

WADING IN :MADE IN FLA B y Vi ct o r M a ze

So Hot, You’re Cool An Orlando wine-lover’s chilling discovery launches a hot business: keeping drinks cold

chilled glass of wine on a sunny Florida afternoon may be one of life’s greatest pleasures. Just be sure to sip quickly; during summer’s triple-digit temperatures, that refreshing rosé can turn from tasty to tepid in a hot second. Orlando entrepreneur and winelover Ben Hewitt had been battling this problem for years when, in 2010, he decided to experiment with a solution. Finding it cumbersome to use ice buckets, he wondered why no one had tried putting something inside the bottle to keep it cold? Working out of his garage, Hewitt started by cutting open a freezer pack and squeezing the contents into a long plastic test tube. After gluing a cork to the top of this makeshift chiller and freezing it, he popped the tube into an open bottle of Kendall Jackson Chardonnay and waited. “I had fun testing it—and it worked,”

Above: In 2010 Hewitt

designed the first Corkcicle, which chills wine from inside the bottle, in his garage.

Hewitt says. This rudimentary prototype kept the bottle cold for about an hour— long enough for an al fresco dinner. Over the next few weeks, Hewitt shared his idea with two pals: Stephen Bruner, a marketing whiz with whom he had worked before, and Eric Miller, a sales manager for a medical technology firm. Both friends were immediately sold on the concept and agreed to partner

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PHOTOGR APHY BY JESSIE PREZA; DYLON YORK / CORKCICLE (LOWER LEFT)

WADING IN :MADE IN FLA with lines to include beer chillers, canteens, Hewitt. Bruner whiskey glasses, tumblers and water even called him later bottles—each with a very buzzthat evening with a thought: worthy design. The name should combine the “Every year we try to launch one or words “cork” and “icicle.” That night, two things that the market has never the Corkcicle brand was born. seen before,” Hewitt says. In 2011, with a more refined prototype Although Corkcicle products are in hand, the partners scheduled a meeting sold online and through independent with Orlando-based ABC Fine Wine & and specialty retailers around the Spirits to gauge interest in the product. world, the Florida lifestyle continues to To their delight, the retailer inspire its designs. placed an order that same day. The canteen, for instance, “That was the proof of was created with boaters CORKCICLE concept we needed from in mind. — FLA RETAILERS — GRETCHEN’S HALLMARK people in the industry,” “The last thing you THE PRIMROSE SHOP Hewitt says. want to do is take a glass CURL SURF FRANCESCA’S Corkcicle’s success quickly bottle of wine onto a boat,” — PRODUCTS SOLD AT — snowballed as the wine chiller Hewitt says of the versatile corkcicle.com debuted at several national container. “They roll trade shows, eventually selling around, and everyone is 300,000 units that year. barefoot. If a bottle falls Corkcicle was also named the best and breaks, you’ve got a problem.” new tabletop product at the For this reason, the company 2011 New York International designed its canteen to have flat sides, Gift Fair; the following preventing rolling, and to taper at year, sales spiked the bottom, allowing it to fit most cup following a mention holders. Offered in tropical hues as on Oprah’s “Favorite bright as a row of Key West cottages, Things” gift list. the canteen looks as cool as it keeps As sales grew, the its contents. company broadened its product Corkcicle currently employees 23 people, 19 of whom are in its O-town headquarters, where the Below: Corkcicle founder Ben Hewitt company’s main operations—including design, marketing and sales—are based. As the business continues to grow, Hewitt says Corkcicle’s reputation for innovation, combined with Central Florida’s laid-back lifestyle and favorable cost of living, makes it relatively easy to attract talent from all over the country. “Orlando is a beautiful place to live. People are extremely nice,” he says. “And we have amazing attractions for our kids to visit.”

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Above: 16-oz.

canteens keep frozen margaritas cold on the beach.

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WADING IN :THE STUDIO FLORIDA ARTIST PROFILES By Nila Do Simon

LADY LUCK

Japan-born paper artist Hiromi Moneyhun finds joy— and success—in cutting outside the lines.

he Japanese have a saying that goes, “The day you decide to do it is your lucky day.” For the Japan-born Hiromi Moneyhun, that lucky day happened 11 years ago. It was an emotional time for Moneyhun. She had left her native Japan after falling in love with Roy, an American whom she met in Kyoto during his tenure as an English teacher abroad. She moved across the world into his childhood home in Jacksonville Beach, where she knew only Roy and his family. When his mother suffered a debilitating stroke in 2010, it was Moneyhun who accepted the role of getting her on the road to recovery. That heavy responsibility plus her growing loneliness took an emotional toll, leaving Moneyhun, 44, in a fragile state. “I wouldn’t say I was depressed, but I was close,” she says.

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During the rare moments she had to herself, Moneyhun turned to a practice that felt true and native to her: kirie, the ancient Japanese art of paper cutting. Developed in the seventh century, kirie involves cutting designs by hand from a sheet of paper to create pictures and dimensionality. It’s a painstakingly intricate and detailed process that rewards those with dexterity, patience and time. Always one to work with her hands through activities like drawing, knitting and crocheting, Moneyhun picked up an X-Acto knife one day in 2010 and began cutting out shapes from a large sheet of paper. First, it was a portrait of her daughter, Nia, pictured at age 3, because “I wanted to start with someone I love,” as Moneyhun simply puts it. She began teaching herself the art. Her work was so good that it got picked up for a group show at

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HIROMI MONE YHUN, CUMMER MUSEUM OF ART & GARDENS

This page clockwise: Matsumoto Castle; Visionesess II up close; Visionesess I; Savage Noble; Hiromi Moneyhun Opposite: Bonsai

a local gallery. The Jacksonville crowd was blown away. Her complex artwork even caught the eye of Ben Thompson, now the deputy director of the Museum of Contemporary Art in Jacksonville, who has become a friend and colleague. Now considered one of the nation’s premier kirie artists—exhibiting at various places around the country including New York City’s prestigious Shirley Fiterman Art Center and the Patricia and Phillip Frost Art Museum in Miami—Moneyhun often makes viewers of her pieces do a double- and sometimes triple-take. What appears from a distance like a drawing made with markers or paint is revealed to be a paper-cut masterpiece when viewed closely. The two-dimensional plane somehow becomes multidimensional through her detailed incisions and designs, and images seem to leap out at the viewer. “Paper-cut art is about fantasy,” Moneyhun says. “Though paper cutting has been around Europe and other countries, what makes kirie very Japanese in nature is that the Japanese characteristics of following the line and having extreme patience are very much seen in this art form.” But for Moneyhun, it’s defying Japanese tradition that makes her work stand out. “I want to break that Japanese stereotype by being more free and not following the lines,” Hiromi says about her unconventional imagery and subjects. “There’s a disruption in my pieces, something unexpected.” Though they’re delicate in structure, there’s a strength in each of her creations, which often showcase fierce female figures. There’s the Ukiyo series featuring modern depictions of the oiran geishas, high-ranking courtesans that Moneyhun felt compelled to celebrate after the crushing 2011 earthquake and tsunami that devastated Japan. Then there’s the Under the Rose series that was inspired by tribal women from all over the globe. And there are the dozens of works celebrating her daughter, Nia, her original muse. “I never considered myself an outspoken feminist, but I guess every woman to some degree is a feminist,” Moneyhun says. These days, Moneyhun works on commissioned projects, including an 11-foot-tall surrealist work that will be mounted on a wood panel and then hung on a wall. She keeps her workspace simple, using only a pencil, pen, and eraser to draw out her designs on paper, and then an X-Acto knife with a No. 11 blade for the cuts. She says it’s the simple things in life that keep her happy. And for that, she feels lucky.

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PALMER SMITH GREW UP IN NEW YORK CITY,

but each summer her mother would load up the car and drive South to Florida with Palmer and her brother. Along the journey, Palmer analyzed the cultural differences and similarities of both regions. Her new poetry and short story collection, The Butterfly Bruises, published by Press Dionysus, includes nearly 80 poems and four short stories. It is a meditation on Northern vs. Southern culture, nature and technology, animals, the ocean, miscommunication, childhood, family, and the imagination of the introvert. Smith hopes that The Butterfly Bruises will make the reader question what it means to be living and communicating in the world today. Palmer’s poems have been praised by readers and industry professionals alike.

- FIND THE BOOK AT THESE LOCATIONS Jacksonville

Chamblin’s Uptown

Palm Beach

Palm Beach Bookstore

Neptune Beach

Jacksonville

The BookMark

San Marco Bookstore

Vero Beach

Vero Beach Book Center

T H E B U T T E R F L Y B R U I S E S B O O K . C O M // @ S P D E V S M I T H W R I T E R

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SPRING 2018

ON THE FLY:THE STUDIO FLOR IDA ARTIST PR OF ILES By Nila Do Simon

GONE PAINTIN’

Avid outdoorsman Gordie Hinds’s passions collide on canvas

he business stationery at Gordie Hinds’s Santa Rosa Beach studio is imprinted with the words “Artist. Angler. Misanthrope.” To try and understand Hinds is to appreciate how those three words relate to him. First, nothing about the 61-year-old’s past suggests that he’s an artistic savant. After all, the self-taught painter, whose artwork has graced the multimillion-dollar homes of everyone from automobile industry executives to Florida retirees, didn’t set out to become an artist until he was in his late forties. Now Hinds’s work—which mainly depicts coastal scenes, fishing moments and beloved dogs—has become synonymous with

the laid-back yet upscale lifestyle of the northwest quadrant of Florida’s Gulf Coast. The son of a career Navy man, Hinds rarely called a place home for more than

two years in a row as a child, something that helped shape his work ethic. “When you move around all your life, you sort of have a

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tendency to go big, because you never know how long you’re going to be in one place,” Hinds says. “And I think that sticks with you as an adult. With my painting, I figured if I’m going to do it, I’ll go hard at it.” The angler, hunter and charter boat captain attacks everything he does with a similar zeal. He had successful ventures as a designer and merchandiser at Columbia Sportswear and the fly-fishing gear manufacturer Orvis before switching careers to raise performance horses in Portland, Oregon. In 1997, he sold his horse farm and moved to Florida to settle into a property he had purchased years before. After a while, he started painting. As Hinds tells it, he mindlessly picked up a paintbrush after a visit to his ex-wife’s art gallery, where,

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COURTESY GORDIE HINDS

Above from left: Beach Point, Lab Dip, and Laundry Day by artist Gordie Hinds Below: Hinds casting a line into the Gulf of Mexico, perhaps thinking of his next painting Opposite from top: More pieces from Hinds’s studio: untitled and Memphis Blues

seeing the artwork, he thought he could paint just as well as the artists exhibiting there. And, to his own surprise, he did. Since then, Hinds has turned his artistry into a successful business, painting 60 or so commissioned pieces each year. His wife, Susan, describes his work as “Hemingwayesque,” a term she applies to the work of “a man with a large life—who’s lived large.” Which brings us to the stationery’s last term: misanthrope. Cautious not to take himself too seriously, Hinds lets slip not-so-subtle hints of deprecation and wry realism that could easily have him mistaken for a swashbuckling sailor instead of a highly soughtafter artist. When asked if he enjoys painting, Hinds responds, “I enjoy it, but am I impassioned about doing it? Occasionally. It pays me enough to allow me to do what I want to do, which is to screw off and fish.” Still, if actions speak louder than words, then Hinds’s daily activities belie any cynical persona he presents. He clocks into his studio at around 2 a.m. (3 a.m. at the latest) and paints all day, every day. He sketches constantly, even when he’s not in the studio. One of the pieces he’s working on today—a painting commissioned by a son who wanted to honor his father, portraying a sailboat the two had been building together before his father’s death—has gotten even the normally misanthropic Hinds emotional. “Yeah, that story got me,” Hinds says. “I say no to doing a lot of paintings, but I couldn’t say no to a story like that one.”

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One Magazine. All of Florida.

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WHAT’S TRENDING IN TAMPA BAY Tampa Bay is topping the charts in more than just sports.

If you haven’t noticed, Tampa Bay has been on a bit of a winning streak lately. The Tampa Bay Lightning brought home the Stanley Cup for the first time since 2004, the Tampa Bay Rays made it to the World Series and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers were crowned Super Bowl champs on their home field. But this vibrant Gulf Coast city isn’t just dominating the sports world, it’s claiming titles for its knockout culinary scene, emerging as a craft beer community to watch and coming into its own as a cultural hub for the Sunshine State. “There’s just so many great things about Florida represented in one place,” says President & CEO of Visit Tampa Bay Santiago C. Corrada. When you visit Tampa Bay, you’re not just stealing away to another beach getaway or a theme park paradise, you get to experience a destination that’s topping the charts in everything. Although Tampa Bay has become a popular haven over the past few years, the city has maintained and cultivated hotels that give guests a unique sense of time and place that cookie-cutter condos can’t. Visitors who stay in the new boutique Hotel Haya find themselves immersed in the rich Cuban history of Ybor City with a modern flair. For those who prefer to reside in the heart of all of the action, the new J.W. Marriott Water Street embeds patrons in the vibrancy of the surrounding community without sacrificing luxury. What better way to survey your new neighborhood than from a chaise lounge beside the rooftop pool? Whether you’re toting a family of five or planning a couples trip, the fact that Tampa Bay is known for everything from its thrilling theme parks to its culinary excellence makes it easy to fill your itinerary. Your group’s animal lovers can spend the morning feeding rhinos at ZooTampa while the adrenaline junkies ride the state’s tallest roller coaster at Busch Gardens® Tampa Bay. Aspiring marine biologists will feel right at home inside The Florida Aquarium, where they can see — and sometimes even touch — more than 7,000 specimens of wildlife. History buffs may want to linger in Ybor City, the multicultural melting pot of Tampa Bay, and tour El Reloj, the only remaining operational cigar factory in the city. While Tampa Bay has long been known as Cigar City, its craft beer community is also lighting up the scene. You’re probably familiar with Cigar City Brewing Co.’s Jai Alai IPA, but a host of other local breweries are making a name for themselves around town. Sip a crisp Florida Special lager at Coppertail Brewing Co. in Ybor City before hanging with the Seminole Heights locals at Angry Chair Brewing Co. Not much of a beer drinker? Swing by Florida Cane Distillery,

Tampa Bay’s first craft distillery tasting room, and take a swig of some of its award-winning spirits made with homegrown ingredients, like its Plant City strawberry Florida cane vodka. With a robust food scene, even the pickiest of eaters can find a palate pleaser in Tampa Bay. Once an old streetcar warehouse, Armature Works in the Heights has been transformed into an industrial market brimming with award-winning culinary concepts. Grab fresh Mediterranean fare from Kipos and make yourself cozy on the couch by the window, or enjoy a full-service fine dining experience at the rooftop lounge M.Bird. Just down the street from the J.W. Marriott Water Street lies Tampa Bay’s newest waterfront entertainment and dining district, Sparkman Wharf. Among this open-air food hall’s 10 dining choices, you’ll find Mexican cuisine from Michelin-starred chef Joe Isidori at JoToro and James Beard Award semifinalist Jeannie Pierola’s reimagination of a Florida seafood shack at Edison’s Swigamajig divebar and fishkitchen. From the ever-growing buzz of victory to the influx of new businesses and cool concepts to a rich culture rooted in history, Tampa Bay has become a bucket-list destination for every Floridian. The Tampa Bay you knew from five years ago isn’t the same Tampa Bay it is today, and it won’t be the same five years from now. We suppose that just means you’ll have to book your next visit soon. We’re confident you’ll leave a big fan.

FLORIDA’S MOST

FRESH-AIR FUN Spring into well-deserved fun in the sun with wide-open possibilities and destinations in Tampa Bay.

VisitTampaBay.com

WADING IN :ONE-ON-ONE CO N VE RSATIONS, INTERVIEWS, STOR IES By J e s s i c a G i l es • I l l u st ra t i o n b y S t ep h en L o m a zzo

Tiger Queen Tells All carole baskin reflects on how she became a household name overnight.

o one saw it coming. Early last spring, few could have imagined the wild force about to be unleashed into our lives and the crazy binge effect that it would have on nearly everyone who came into contact with it. As soon as Tiger King hit the Netflix homepage, word of the off-the-wall docuseries spread fast, and Floridian Carole Baskin, founder of Tampa-based Big Cat Rescue, became an overnight celebrity. The true-crime series plunges headfirst into the underbelly of the big cat breeding world, where polygamy, drug lords and murder-for-hire plots converge in a twisted—yet strangely addicting—dance that got millions of people through the beginning of quarantine. The target of the murder-for-hire plot orchestrated by the “gay, gun-toting cowboy with a mullet” Joe Exotic was none other than Baskin. The 59-year-old animal rights activist has devoted much of her life to ending the private possession, abuse and trade of big cats, which has earned her quite a few enemies. “There have been so many threats over the years from so many people that are way scarier than Joe,” she says. We sat down with Baskin to talk about what Tiger King didn’t show, the reality of her feud with Joe Exotic—spoiler: “I’ve never spoken to him,” she says—and what she really wants to focus on in 2021.

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YOU SPENT MANY OF YOUR TEENAGE YEARS HITCHHIKING BETWEEN FLORIDA AND MAINE. WHAT BROUGHT YOU BACK TO FLORIDA AT 17?

CB: I think I probably say at least once a week, “It’s just another day in paradise.” I love Florida, absolutely love Florida. I love the warm weather. I love the sand and sea and the smells of the ocean and all of that. I love the laid-back, slower pace of Florida versus some of the Northeastern states and cities where it’s really crazy. So no matter where I might have to go in my life, as far as speaking out against animal abuse and for protecting animals, I will probably always come back to Florida because I just love it here.

IS THERE A PLACE IN FLORIDA THAT HOLDS A SPECIAL PLACE IN YOUR HEART?

CB: The Florida Keys have always been where I went to completely recharge. So back in the ’90s, when we were first starting the sanctuary, we had done some huge fur farm rescues: 56 cats off of one, and then 28 off another, and 22 off another, and most of those were kittens that had to be fed like every three, four hours around the clock. For years I didn’t sleep through a single night because I was taking care of cats. Every two years or so, I would just drive to the Keys, which was part of the de-stressing, and then I would lay in a hammock down there and just cry for three days straight.

YOU’VE BEEN TRANSPARENT ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU BRED BIG CATS IN THE PAST. WHY DID YOU STOP?

CB: When we had done all of those rescues from the fur farms, my idea was: We’ll just bring all of these cats in, we’ll put them all out there in pet homes instead of being killed for their fur, and life will be wonderful. And I was so wrong. Because once those cats got to be about a year-and-a-half old, they started spraying urine all over everything to mark it as theirs. And people are not willing to put up with that. So they all started coming back to me, and I was like, “Okay, well, this didn’t work.” The way the sanctuary rescue actually started in 1992 was with the rescue of Windsong, who was a bobcat who ended up at an auction. I had done bobcat

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rehab and release since I was 17 years old, but the guy next to me starts bidding on her, and I said, “When that cat grows up, she’s gonna tear your face off.” And he said, “I’m a taxidermist. I’m just going to club her in the head in the parking lot and make a den decoration out of her.” So we came home with her, and she did not turn into a den decoration. But she’s what started the sanctuary.

WHEN DID YOU KNOW THAT ADVOCATING AND CARING FOR BIG CATS WAS YOUR CALLING?

CB: Actually, it’s not my calling. My calling is protecting domestic cats and kittens. As an 8-year-old, my grandmother had insisted that we take my cat and her eight kittens to the shelter. And I learned later what happens to cats in shelters, especially in that kind of a situation. So it became my life’s mission to end the euthanasia of healthy cats and kittens in shelters.

down and start ripping his hair out. So she needed somebody of her own kind that she can play with, and that was how we ended up at the fur farm and came back with all of those cats when we saw that they were going to be killed for their fur. So even when I saw 56 cats that needed to be rescued, I naively thought, “How hard could that be? Right? We’ll just rescue them, put them in pet homes.” And then they all start coming back. So it’s been a harder thing than I thought.

WHAT’S THE CRAZIEST THING THAT’S HAPPENED TO YOU SINCE TIGER KING?

CB: This struck me as so odd. I was riding my bike home. I was on the trail—which is the place in Tiger King where they sent the guy to come cut my head off with a knife or shoot me with a bow and arrow or whatever he

There have been so many threats over the years from so many people that are way scarier than Joe. - CAROLE BASKI N TIGERS AND BOBCATS ARE A LITTLE DIFFERENT THAN KITTENS! HOW DID YOU GET INVOLVED WITH RESCUING BIG CATS? CB: When I saw Windsong at that auction, I thought, “Well, I can fix this.” And the way that I would fix this was I’m just going to buy her out of that situation. Then I realize she’s declawed, she can’t be set free, she wasn’t from this state—they have to be released back in the state that they came from—and without claws, she can’t hunt. So now she’s stuck in a cage. So that was what led us to trying to find something that she could play with that she wouldn’t kill, because she was terrorizing our German shepherd and terrorizing my husband and daughter. She would lay on top of the refrigerator and wait until he opened the door and then just leap

was going to do—and as I’m riding home, it’s starting to get dark because I usually come home right before dark, and this guy leaps out of the bushes in front of me. He’s got something in this hand that I can’t quite tell what it is and a knife that he’s pointing in my face. I’m trying to swerve around him, and he yells at me that he just wants a selfie. I look back, and what he had been doing, apparently, was peeling an apple or an orange or something with a knife. But he just wasn’t thinking, I guess, when he had it in his hand. I really don’t think he was trying to kill me. I mean, he clearly had fruit in his hand. You don’t bring that to a murder.

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WADING IN :ONE-ON-ONE CO N VE RSATIONS, INTERVIEWS, STOR IES

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF TIGER KING?

KICKIN’ BACK WITH CAROLE THE BIG CAT RESCUE FOUNDER’S FLORIDA FAVES •••••

•••••

FAVORITE FLORIDA ANIMAL AND WHY:

Florida bobcats because they are the toughest, most resilient creatures on the planet. We do bobcat rescue, rehab and release, with our most recent release being Angel Bobcat on March 18, 2021. •••••

•••••

FAVORITE LOCAL RESTAURANT:

Whiskey Joe’s on Ben T. Davis Beach because of the amazing sunsets from the deck, and they have been longtime supporters of the sanctuary •••••

•••••

FAVORITE FLORIDA ATTRACTION (BESIDES BIG CAT RESCUE, OF COURSE!) Indeed. My second choice goes to Fort DeSoto Beach because of its unspoiled beauty. •••••

•••••

FAVORITE FLORIDA SPORTS TEAM? I detest sports and think they are an utter waste of time and resources. •••••

•••••

FAVORITE PLACE IN THE STATE

Fort DeSoto Beach, where I try to visit once every month or so to walk the entire length of it. This is where I find inspiration, through connecting with nature, to envision a world where all wild cats live free. •••••

•••••

BEST WAY TO SPEND A SUNNY SATURDAY IN TAMPA: Did I mention, Fort DeSoto Beach?

CB: I think it was a huge missed opportunity. My husband and I bingewatched it like everybody else did because we were like, “What is this?” You know that scene where they’re pulling the baby away from its mom? Over five years, they had to have hundreds of hours of that kind of stuff that they could have shown people about how horrible this is. They could have shown people all of the ringworm that people catch from handling these cubs that are kept in such filthy conditions. They didn’t show any of that. Makes you wonder why. Why was their whole focus on this feud that didn’t exist? I think it’s because people would buy into that. They could buy into something simple-minded.

DID YOU KNOW THAT JOE EXOTIC WAS GOING TO BE THE FOCUS OF THE DOCUSERIES?

CB: One of the things that we were most upset with the producers about was when they would ask me questions about Joe during the five years that they were here filming. I would say, “Why are you talking about him?” And they’d be [like], “Well, he says all this stuff about you, and we just have to get to what the bottom of that is. He’s not going to be anything more than any of these other people that you’re going after.” Because they knew I was going after all of them. If you are abusing a big cat, you are on my radar. I will find you, and I will bring you to justice. And he was just one of those. He had no audience before Tiger King. He had been making allegations that I had killed my husband and fed him to the tigers and put him under the septic tank. Well, which is it, Joe? He says both are equally true—that I fed him to the tigers and that he’s buried under the septic tank. Well, you can’t be both. They’re both lies. I feel like everything that comes out of his mouth is so easily disproved, and yet they didn’t do that. Instead, what they did was, they invited all of these other animal abusers to back up his position and to make it look like they all had some credible reason for wanting to get rid of me, when the only reason all of them want to get rid of me is because I threaten their sense of who they are by being able to show off with these animals.

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HOW DID YOU FEEL YOU WERE PORTRAYED IN TIGER KING?

CB: I think the way that they portrayed me was to try and create this “Karen” image of somebody who drove him to madness, and that’s why he became this evil person. No, I know his family. They say he has always been wretched, and he’s always been an animal abuser and killer.

Hit me with your best shot, and if that was it, it wasn’t enough to take me out. - CAROLE BASKIN DID YOU KNOW THAT YOUR PERSONAL LIFE WAS GOING TO BE SUCH A BIG PART OF THE DOCUSERIES?

CB: No, absolutely not. When they would ask me questions, and I’d ask them, “Why is this important to talking about tigers in the wild?” They’d say, “Well, the bad guys say this stuff about you, so we just need to address it.” So I was open and honest with them. I gave them access to everything. I’ve kept a diary since I was a child, and, before Tiger King came out, I started posting my diary every day at savethecats.org. So every day it has a new episode from my diary. I felt like being as open as I could possibly be about what really transpired would then answer all of these questions that were created in Tiger King about what really happened with my husband, and what happened with his children, and what was the relationship with the secretary and the people that he worked with.

IF YOU HAD KNOWN BEFOREHAND WHAT THE FINAL PRODUCT WOULD BE, WOULD YOU STILL HAVE PARTICIPATED IN TIGER KING? CB: My husband and I have different feelings on that. He says no. I say yes. He feels like this was so blatantly a betrayal, and it hurts

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him that people believe such awful lies about me as far as how I treated Don’s children and all of that. I know the truth. I know they know the truth. And I know that it doesn’t really matter because it’s not about me, and it’s really about the cats. So if people learned there is an issue with people paying to pet cubs and that that’s causing the extinction of the tiger in the wild, then it was worth every minute of it.

Scan this QR code to see our video interview with Carole Baskin or visit Flamingomag.com

LOOKING BACK ON 2020, WOULD YOU HAVE DONE ANYTHING DIFFERENTLY?

CB: I think I wish I had gotten out in front of this train a little faster than I did. When it first came out, we were just so shocked that people could believe what they were seeing there because we knew different. But it took us a while to wrap our heads around the fact that this is what people are seeing, and this is what people are making their judgments on. For a while I didn’t talk about it because I was just so in shock and didn’t know what type of rebuttal we would need to put out there. I felt like all of these media outlets wanted a fiveminute sound bite that was going to settle it for everybody. I missed an awful lot of opportunities, by looking for the perfect opportunity, to address it all in one part.

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WHAT WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF YOUR 2020?

CB: My highlight of 2020 actually started in January. In 2019, we had opened the world’s first augmented reality zoos. Two malls, one at Citrus Park and another one down in Plantation, had offered us a space for free and said, “Do whatever you want to do in here.” And so we said, “We want to show that you can have a zoo with no animals.” So, we had these beautiful posters on the wall, and you just hold your phone up to any one of those images and the animals leap to life in a video that you can see.

WHAT ARE YOUR HOPES FOR 2021?

CB: I’m really hoping that as COVID-19 hopefully is reined in, and as people get vaccinated and become more impervious to it, that things will open back up, that the malls will start seeing more traffic and the augmented reality zoos in Plantation and Citrus Park will become embraced more, because I don’t think zoos are going to follow our lead until they see that it’s been successful, and that it is a financially successful venture.

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WHAT’S THE BIGGEST CHANGE YOU’VE NOTICED IN YOUR LIFE SINCE TIGER KING?

CB: Well, I can’t imagine anything being worse than the way that I was portrayed in Tiger King, and yet, I still was able to use that to the benefit of the cats. So I feel like there’s just nothing that could ever happen to me or be said about me that would be able to keep me from doing what I think is important, and that is protecting these big cats from abuse. So hit me with your best shot, and if that was it, it wasn’t enough to take me out.

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WADING IN:FLEDGLINGS FLO RIDA MUSICIANS ON THE R ISE B y Jessica Giles

Coastal Caroline

More than Jimmy Buffett’s protege, Caroline Jones reveals she’s a powerhouse in her own right with her sophomore album.

or most of her life, Caroline Jones was a city girl. In high school, the Big Apple was her playground, and New York University is her alma mater. It wasn’t until 2015 that the Sunshine State converted her from subway riding to beach cruising. Her manager, Ric Wake, invited her to Florida to record what eventually became her debut album, Bare Feet. “What began as a two-week recording session turned into a new home,” she says. You can tell Jones has taken to the lifestyle like a native by the laid-back easiness that infuses her country sound. This tropical touch on her tracks is a product of both her own time in Florida and the mentorship of coastal king Jimmy Buffett. Having toured with Buffett, Kenny Chesney and the Zac Brown Band, Jones has already proven she can hang with the big dogs. Now on the brink of releasing her sophomore album, Caroline Jones talks about the evolution of her craft, her greatest influences and how her upcoming music reveals a new side of this “Gulf Coast Girl.”

HOW HAS FLORIDA INFLUENCED YOUR MUSIC?

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L AUR A TAIT

CJ: The ocean and warm-weather lifestyle really energize and inspire me. I feel most creative when I spend time in nature. I also feel much healthier in a warmer climate with year-round sunshine (vitamin D!). As intangible as they may seem, all of these factors have propelled my creative drive and confidence.

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JAMMING WITH JONES Caroline’s Hottest Hits

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“CHASIN’ ME” Chasin’ Me

“COME IN (BUT DON’T MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE)” Single

CJ: I fell in love last year with an America’s Cup sailor, and so when all tours were canceled, I jumped at the chance to spend the year in New Zealand with him. It has been a completely unexpected, fresh new chapter of my life. To move across the world, immerse myself in a foreign land and culture and reflect this newfound inspiration in my music is an indescribable blessing.

FEW MUSICIANS CAN SAY THAT THEY WROTE, CO-PRODUCED AND PLAYED MOST OF THE INSTRUMENTS ON THEIR ALBUM. WHY IS IT IMPORTANT TO YOU TO HAVE YOUR HAND IN SO MANY ASPECTS?

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“RISE (SING IT LOUD)” Bare Feet “GULF COAST GIRL” Chasin’ Me

THE DIFFERENCE (GOSHDAMN)” “ Bare Feet

YOUR FRIENDSHIP AND MUSICAL PARTNERSHIP WITH JIMMY BUFFETT SEEMS LIKE SUCH A NATURAL FIT. WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO TOUR WITH HIM?

CJ: Jimmy’s mentorship and support has made me the artist and person I am. I have learned so much from him and owe him so much. Touring with him is exactly like you’d imagine: endlessly fun, meaningful and entertaining. He has a grasp on how to uplift and connect with his fans. They mean so much to him and he to them. Plus, Jimmy’s band and crew are all road veterans, having toured together for decades, and have a very strong sense of community and family.

WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION WHEN BUFFETT APPROACHED YOU WITH THE SONG “GULF COAST GIRL”? CJ: First and foremost, I was honored and amazed that Jimmy and Mac McAnally had written a song with me in mind. I still pinch myself! The song is clever, fun, and lighthearted, but also very meaningful. It name-checks all the places along the Gulf Coast that have meant something to Jimmy and Mac, having grown up in that part of the world. I will never forget Jimmy coming over to my house and taking me through the lyrics line by line, sharing anecdotes from each town mentioned in the song, like a travel journal. I spent time in several Gulf Coast towns shooting the music video, which I thoroughly enjoyed. There is something really special about that area—the swampy, sunlit forests and the white sand beaches.

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YOU’VE BEEN QUARANTINING AND WORKING ON YOUR SOPHOMORE ALBUM IN NEW ZEALAND. WHAT PROMPTED YOU TO HEAD OVER THERE?

CJ: I just adore the process of layering sounds and instruments. I love the alchemy of a production coming together. It’s just magic. And now more than ever, there are a million creative ways to produce. It’s all artistic; it’s all colors to paint with; it’s all music. The process on this album was a bit different than my first. On my first album, I played all the instruments except bass and drums. On this album, I invited a few more musicians into the studio in order to add more energy and color to the basic tracking session. It raises my game as a guitar and keys player, and adds more colors and textures to the sonic palette of the record. Not to mention the fact that these are the best musicians on the planet and an absolute joy to work with.

WHAT CAN LISTENERS EXPECT FROM YOUR UPCOMING ALBUM?

CJ: My sophomore album will be a bit more musically raw and energetic than my first. It reflects my maturity as a songwriter and especially as a performer and musician. Touring with Zac Brown Band, Kenny Chesney, Jimmy Buffett, Faith Hill and Tim McGraw, and the Eagles gave me a lot more confidence and grit as an artist. Hopefully you can feel that in my second record. However, the cornerstones of my style hold true in this record—a blend of country, pop and singer/songwriter styles. This is my best work yet.

WHAT’S LEFT ON YOUR MUSICAL BUCKET LIST?

CJ: First and foremost, I am always aiming at higher and higher levels of greatness as a songwriter, singer, musician, producer and performer. Any one of these crafts individually is the pursuit of a lifetime. My dream, career-wise, is to build a fan base that allows me to tour and make records for decades to come.

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SPRING 2017

WADING IN :FLEDGLINGS FLO RIDA MUSICIANS ON THE R ISE B y Ja m i e R i ch

A NEW ESTEFAN A Miamian with a famous name blazes her own soulful path with her debut album

mily Estefan, 22, bears an iconic last name recognized across her home state of Florida and around the world. Acutely aware of the comparisons audiences will make to her famous parents, Emilio and Gloria Estefan, the young songstress embraces her musical heritage while decidedly forging her own “fusion” sound—equal parts funk, soul, jazz, Latin and pop. Influences like Erykah Badu, Amy Winehouse and her mother can be heard on her debut album, Take Whatever You Want, released in February 2017.

The ebullient Miamian writes her own music and plays drums, guitar and just about anything else put in front of her. Surprisingly, she only found her singing voice three years ago. During a short break from Berklee College of Music, she sang privately for her mother for the first time. “It was a horrible performance,” she says. “I was audibly shaking, but what it represented was big for both of us.” By the sound of her record (on vinyl to boot), the rising star has gotten over her nerves and is poised to take on stages as big as her family name.

WHAT’S IT LIKE GROWING UP WITH THE ESTEFANS AS PARENTS?

EE: They’ve always been Mom and Dad to me. When I was younger, I would be on the side of the stage and that would be normal for me because I didn’t know anything else. That’s just the family business. When I grew up a little bit more, I was frustrated because I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just go to the fair and walk around without being stopped for a picture. I went through that period where I would have answered your question a completely different way because I was angry. Now that I’m a musician, I see the importance of that part of the job, which is to have constant communication with the people who support you. It’s been a beautiful life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

WHAT INSTRUMENTS DID YOU STUDY GROWING UP?

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Omar Cruz

EE: I went to college when I was 18, and I studied drum set. That’s my principle instrument that I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I feel very protected behind the drums. I was scared to sing, because I was like, “What if I sound just like her?” Or worse yet, “What if I have my own voice, but people don’t want to hear it because they want me to sound like her?”—which happens. But if you don’t like it, then move on.

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WADING WADING IN IN::FLEDGLINGS FLEDGLINGS HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE MUSIC YOU MAKE?

EE: Fusion. There is jazz, R&B, a little Latin because it’s in my blood. That’s why the album is called Take Whatever You Want, because when you’re sitting there listening to the music, I’m not there to tell you what it is. You’re there to decide.

WHO ARE YOUR BIGGEST MUSICAL INFLUENCES, PAST AND PRESENT?

EE: Obviously, my parents have been huge, and Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Prince. And now that I found my own stuff to listen to—Erykah [Badu], Hiatus Kaiyote and Snarky Puppy are my musical icons right now. These people are doing insane stuff with music. When I listen to music from the ’20s, ’30s and ’40s, it takes me somewhere else.

HOW HAS GROWING UP IN MIAMI SHAPED YOU?

EE: You can walk down the streets of Miami and hear five different languages in a three-block radius. It’s made me very aware of all the intricacies of culture and how you don’t need to be put in a box. It’s also about the American dream. My parents are a constant torch that remind me how hard they had to work to create this life for me. It’s always going to be home.

TELL US ABOUT YOUR FIRST BAND?

EE: I played all my teen life with The GrooveDogz, a local band. The head of the band, John Pantesco, went to my high school a super long time ago. In high school, I was in the band room all the time, hanging with music kids, and he was around. One day he was like, “Hey, do you want to come jam

with my band?” I owe him a lot of my musical integrity because he really gave me a shot. My mom was like, “You guys look like ZZ Top and a 12-year-old girl.”

THE “RAPUELA” VIDEOS OF YOUR GRANDMOTHER RAPPING IN SPANISH ON INSTAGRAM ARE SO POPULAR. EXPLAIN. EE: “Rapuela” is a superstar. All jokes aside though, it is really sad to me how a lot of kids my age don’t appreciate their grandparents and how important it is to have them around. She is superduper talented. It’s really important to nurture those relationships, and that’s really where it came from, a natural love of hanging out and joking around. One day she was just rapping, and I was like, “Wait a minute! What?” Editor’s Note: “Rapuela” passed away in June 2017.

A road trip worth pulling over for. When it comes to road trips, getting there is half the fun, and the scenic routes in Martin County, Florida offer plenty to look at along the way. Picture canopies of shady trees welcoming you, bright tropical colors, scenic vistas, beautiful sand beaches brimming with photo-ops, and the most bio-diverse ecosystem in the Northern Hemisphere. So go ahead and stretch your legs a bit. You’ll be glad you did.

Plan your trip at DiscoverMartin.com

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Pretty.

Unexpected.

Here, our tranquility runs deep and our trails run over 700 miles.

With 52 acres of natural wonders, historic buildings, high-flying adventures and animal exhibits, this is no typical museum. Come see what makes us unique! TallahasseeMuseum.org

Southern Shakespeare presents William Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, May 6th - 9th at Tallahassee’s Capital City Amphitheater. Starring Hal Sparks from the Showtime original series Queer as Folk in the role of Malvolio. FREE tickets available at SouthernShakes.org

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Uniquely Tallahassee for 28 years. Enjoy a locally sourced brunch, ice cream creations and hand-made hard candies. LoftyPursuits.com

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Capital Dame B y D i a n e R o b ert s

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Above: Ancient artifacts, like projectile points, lie below the surface of urban neighborhoods and hold the stories of Floridians who lived thousands of years ago.

THE FLORIDIANS BEFORE US

ADOBE STOCK

In a state that often turns a blind eye to its complex history, what happens when we stop to explore the land beneath our feet?

Sixty-four years ago, after the foundations for my family house were dug, but before any concrete was poured or bricks laid, my mother pulled on her rubber boots and walked around in the aftermath of a Florida rainstorm. She picked up projectile points—ax heads, flint tools, and broken bits of ceramic vessels, some polished black, some incised with spirals or wave patterns—out of the carnelian red clay.

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An archaeologist friend of my father’s looked at my mother’s bucket of finds and pronounced most of them part of Fort Walton culture, dating from 1000 to 1500 A.D., though there was also a reddish hunk of fired clay that might be from the Norwood peoples, made in Florida around the same time that Hatshepsut ruled in Egypt and the Mycenaeans conquered Greece, 4,000 years ago. Florida markets itself as a place that’s

somehow beyond history, a place where we worship the new. I’m not saying we don’t appreciate the few antique structures that have managed to avoid being torn down for a highway, a hotel or a strip mall. The City of Fort Lauderdale cherishes its century-old Bonnet House Museum & Gardens, perched on 35 acres of unspoiled barrier island between the Atlantic and the Intracoastal Waterway and convenient

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Capital Dame UNF ILTER ED FODDER

for the Ritz Carlton, the Pelican Grand Beach Resort and the Galleria Publix. (We prefer our heritage to be close to our comforts.) We preserve a few plantation houses from the 1850s and the “vintage” mermaid attraction at Weeki Wachee; we try to preserve our remaining Indian mounds and Spanish forts in state parks. But most who come to live in Florida don’t really want to think about history while sitting on the sand at Sanibel or riding the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror at Disney or contemplating the fourth hole at the Calusa Pines Golf Club. Florida is about immediate gratification. Florida is about not feeling bad about anything, be it our polluted waters, our history of racism or our regressive tax system. Yet despite our need to pretend that the state operates in the eternal present of a sunny day at the beach, Florida is very old. Human beings have lived on this peninsula for more than 14,000 years. And despite our frequent efforts to ignore or erase our long yesterday, the land bears the mark of everyone who has made a home here, from the Native Americans who created mounds that still rise high in quiet woods in Lee County, Tampa Bay, and the Panhandle; to the Franciscan missions of the Spanish once laid out across North Above: Elder Florida like a ribbon Birdman copper plate excavated but now only visible at the Lake in foundation lines Jackson Mounds Archaeological you can trace if you State Park near Tallahassee try; to the English

who scattered broken blue and white china wherever they went; to the cotton aristocracy who descended from Virginia and the Carolinas with thousands of enslaved people to work the fields and build those fine columned manor houses you can still see from Manatee County north to the Georgia line. I’ve always been puzzled by my fellow Floridians’ reluctance to face history. Maybe it’s because if they, like me, are descended from European colonizers, they realize that our ancestors killed to “settle” our Florida land. Sometimes the killing was on purpose, with swords, rifles or fire; sometimes it was

Bowlegs, “a friend to whites who lived on this shore”—a shore that did not exist until the developers of the Villages dug that manmade lake. In fact, Billy Bowlegs, whose name in his own language was Holata Micco, led his people against the land-stealing whites in the Second and Third Seminole wars. I never had the option of ignoring Florida’s past: It was—and is—a constant presence. My father’s family has been in the state since 1799, when Spanish governors were giving away free land. My mother’s people came in the 1820s, after the Adams-Onís Treaty made Florida a territory of the United States. My

Florida is about not feeling bad about anything, be it our polluted waters, our history of racism or our regressive tax system. -Diane Roberts inadvertent, with pathogens the native people had no immunity from. Even those whose grandparents or great-grandparents came through Ellis Island with nothing but their talents and moved to snowless Florida as a reward for a lifetime of work know that their whiteness has given them a privilege Florida’s indigenous people, and the black people whose labor made the state prosperous in the 19th century, could never enjoy. History can hurt. It’s much more fun to drink a sunset-colored cocktail poolside. If there have to be references to the past, let them be fictional, like the “historical markers” that dot The Villages, that gigantic Central Florida retirement community, commemorating a nonexistent 19th-century moonshine maker called “Silencio,” a fake “Cracker” cabin, and, on the boat tour of Lake Sumter, Chief Billy

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grandparents and great-uncles and aunts told stories about the Seminole wars in the 1830s or the 1864 Battle of Marianna or the time our distant cousin Enid Broward was crowned Tallahassee May Queen in 1907 as if they were actually present. The past lived in our house in the rocking chair made in Washington County for my mother’s great-grandmother, and in the scruffy photocopy of the deed given my manytimes great-grandaddy François Brouard (later known as Francis Broward) by Charles IV, and in the ground the house sits upon. If you dig down 10 or 12 inches you will still find pottery shards, most no bigger than a quarter, some older than the Bible. People have always lived on this land. It was a pecan farm in the early 20th century; before then, a cotton plantation; and before then, part of the province of the Apalachee, one of

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HERB ROE

the native peoples who resisted Juan Ponce de León, Pánfilo de Narváez, Hernando de Soto and their chain-mailed invaders charging through the palmettos and the piney woods of Florida 500 years ago, looking for souls and gold. Knowing this, and being part of a family as rooted in Florida as the bald cypresses in our swamps, conveys no special status, but does confer the obligation to remember, to tell the stories of these places before we pave over them, and to remind everyone else that there’s more to our state than the manufactured dreams of the Magic Kingdom, The Villages and South Beach. It’s much harder to destroy a place if you know its story. Our house is about a mile as the blackbird flies from the mounds on the shore of Lake Jackson, one of the greatest works of Florida’s Middle Ages. Perhaps the juxtaposition of “Florida” and “Middle Ages” sounds a little weird, but what else do you call a city of seven great platform mounds built over several centuries beginning 1,000 years ago? That’s about the same time as Windsor Castle or the cathedral at Chartres. Windsor and Chartres are mighty expressions of secular, sacred and cultural power, places filled with meaning. The same can be said of the Lake Jackson complex. We tend to see Europe as a “civilization,” while the American Indians of our own continent are called “primitive.” You have only to look at some of the objects buried in the Lake Jackson mounds—the engraved shell pendants or the intricately decorated pottery or the copper panel depicting a falcon dancer, a man wearing a beaked bird mask and feathered cape—to see that the mound people of the Floridian Middle Ages cared about beauty and transcendence. The falcon dancer moves, drawn in lines as confident and haunting as a Picasso. In one hand he raises a rod or mace; in the other, he holds a severed human head by the hair. He is an intermediary between earthly existence and the afterlife— rather like the saints of the medieval church,

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to whom Christians prayed—and this image of him is a work of art as good as any announcing Gothic angel or lively gargoyle carved in stone at Chartres. Florida is full of the wonders of its past—if you know where to look for them. Orlando and its environs may look like a toll road–tangled conurbation of pastel

Above: Birdman copper plate depicting a falcon

dancer wearing a beaked mask and cape, discovered at the Lake Jackson Mounds near Tallahassee

houses and theme parks, but if you get off I-4 in Eatonville, you’ll find the first selfgoverning black town in the United States, built by former slaves and incorporated in 1887. There stands the home of Florida’s great folklorist and novelist, Zora Neale Hurston. She set many of her stories there. Or how about big, shiny, kinetic Miami, with its glittering glass towers, galleries and

mojito palaces? In 1998, a developer was tearing down an apartment complex on Brickell Avenue, planning to build chi-chi condos, when an archaeological assessment uncovered a large circle of 24 holes dug into the oolitic limestone. It was a kind of reverse Stonehenge built by the Tequesta people sometime between 1,700 and 2,000 years ago. We almost lost this treasure: the developer wanted to keep on building, important archaeological site or no important archaeological site. This is Florida, after all. The state finally bought the site—the developer made a tidy profit— and now this numinous place, inscribed in the very bedrock of our peninsula, belongs to all of us, no matter who our ancestors might have been. It’s called the Miami Circle, and you can visit this National Historic Landmark on Brickell Point. If you want to uncover our past closer to home, whether you live near the old Camino Real, the “royal road” across North Florida connecting the Spanish missions of the 17th and 18th centuries; or in a town built on what used to be orange groves; or along the paths of Flagler’s or Plant’s railways, look at the ground beneath your feet. Somebody was there before you. Something existed there before it was your backyard. It was never a blank slate just waiting to be turned into a quarter-acre of St. Augustine grass. It has a story. Go find it.

Diane Roberts is an eighth-generation Floridian, educated at Florida State University and at Oxford University. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, The Guardian and the Tampa Bay Times. She has also authored four books, including Dream State, a historical memoir of Florida.

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Relax on 22 Miles of Uncrowded Beaches

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— P eo p le , p lac e s and pastimes of the sunshine state —

FEATURES

— The promise of little palm — Ge t l os t i n l uxur y i n t he Lowe r K e ys

— lady killers of the glades — The f e m al e pyt hon hunt e r s r ul i ng the s wam p

— football’s black pioneers — Me e t t he m e n who c hange d t he game f o r e v e r

— Breathless —

Goi ng de e p wi t h f r e e di vi ng’s f i ne s t

— where the tarpon roll — Angl e r s on a m i s s i on t o ke e p our w at e r c l e an

— Back from the Brink —

The unl i ke l y s avi or s of t he Fl or i da pant he r

— Riding the lightning —

Laugh out l oud wi t h c om e di an Be r t K r e i s c he r

— ONe last midnight ride —

Look bac k at t he l i f e and m us i c of Gr e g g Al l m an

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How t he s e Ol d Fl or i da out pos t s ar e st i l l s t andi ng

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Surfer and model Anastasia Ashley on location in Stiltsville

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— Long LosT Lilly —

The unt ol d s t or y of t he i c on’s f am o us pr i nt s

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The Promise of

Little Palm A slice of private-island living on a small patch of sand in the Lower Keys By ERIC BARTON // Photography by MARY BETH KOETH M O D E L : L AUR A CASTI L LO CLOTH I NG : CAR A CAR A NE W YO R K AND M O D E LCI TI ZE N M AK E U P & H AI R : J E S US B R AVO

t’s almost like sailing over the top of a roller coaster—the wind tousling your hair, the sun beaming down on your face, the feeling of near-weightlessness and pure exhilaration as you soar across the Seven Mile Bridge in Marathon with almost nothing on either side except the color blue, from the sky to the water, just blue. To the right, a bevy of fishermen cast from the bows of their skiffs into Florida Bay. To the left, the Atlantic Ocean splays out like the base paint of a watercolor, its surface dancing with activity. If you’ve driven the route, then you know what I mean: the uplifting blast only felt when you’re cruising through the Florida Keys. For all Floridians, the Keys are somewhat of a backyard escape, a way to forget, especially now, after this year we’ve all had. That rush is the promise of the Keys, a reminder of the greatness of this state and something we all need now more than ever. So many of us crave the kind of mental reboot that comes from spending days surrounded by the water and wildlife here. And on this perfect 10 of a spring day, my wife, Jill, and I are headed to the best of what the Keys can offer, as close as most of us will get to our own private island. A trip to Little Palm Island Resort & Spa begins for many at the Shore Station, a one-room cottage on Little Torch Key and the shoving off point for one of the nation’s most exclusive retreats, Little Palm—as it’s known to locals. As we pull up to the small bungalow perched on the water’s edge, a smiling receptionist dressed in Bermuda shorts and a matching mask greets us as if she’s been awaiting our arrival for days. She offers us a signature rum cocktail, the Gumby Slumber, while we wait on the shaded dock for the tender that will deliver us to the island. “Would we like to make it a double?” she asks. “Well, sure, why not?” I reply. A few minutes later, we board a runabout with our cocktails in hand, luggage already loaded for us, and head

east on a 15-minute ride punctuated by sea spray. This is our maiden voyage to the lauded enclave, which was ravaged by Hurricane Irma in 2017 and then rebuilt three years later in glorious splendor worthy of its historical ties to presidents and pop stars. As the resort and its commanding dock come into view, the stresses of the work week, and really the entire year, begin to evaporate in the salt air. I’m reminded of how great it feels to travel again, especially to a resort with such promise. I take another draw from my straw and wonder: What will Little Palm mean for us in this

it seems most everyone here spends days with a schedule dictated only by sunrises, sunsets and passing clouds.

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VINTAGE IMAGES: LIT TLE PALM ISL AND RESORT & SPA

time of global reset? The boat pulls up to the main dock on the island’s southwest corner, where a concierge leads the way along winding paths covered in crushed shells, past fountains in the Zen garden and the spa. There are just 15 thatched-roof bungalows. With an adults-only policy and the total guest count capped at 60, it’s not hard to find a spot that makes this island feel like it’s only yours. Cabanas hide behind palm fronds and bamboo stalks that rise from perfectly manicured bits of jungle. We could at this point book fly-fishing or snorkeling excursions or simply do nothing, the concierge explains as we arrive at our bungalow, which bears a wooden sign with our last name: Barton. But it seems most everyone here spends days with a schedule dictated only by sunrises and sunsets and passing clouds. Inside, the plantation shutters keep the cottages shaded in the heat of the day, and a romantic canopy bed draped in linen faces a private outdoor deck with an inviting copper tub. A bottle of bubbly chills in an ice bucket, and we take two glasses down onto the landing that overlooks the water and toast to what is certainly one of Little Palm’s greatest assets: its seclusion.

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Model Laura Castillo on the beach at Little Palm Island; thoughtful touches give the bungalows an air of old-world charm and modern luxury; guests find solace in the resort’s remote locale. Opposite:

The cottage on Munson Island circa 1920, long before the island was developed into the exclusive resort it is today

old Florida elegance Already succumbing to the resort’s mantra to “get lost,” whether that be in the giant copper tub on our porch or on one of their Boston Whalers, we decide to meander to the Great House and find something to eat. At Little Palm, you’re almost certainly going to eat every meal at The Dining Room, the restaurant situated in the heart of the property with elegant interior seating as well as open-air tables on the veranda overlooking the beach. Chef Luis Pous helms the kitchen, which he led for more than seven years before stepping away in 2020 and finally returning to his roots at Little Palm this spring. The restaurant takes up most of the island’s Great House, a new structure built in 2019 as part of a $34-million overhaul to remake the 4-acre island after Irma swept much of it into the sea in 2017. The renovation created a place that feels like a dazzling version of Old Florida, with subtle, well-oiled wood finishes throughout the property juxtaposed with crystal chandeliers dangling over poolside cabanas, an ornate shell-encrusted mirror above the Great House fireplace and life-size portraits of Bess and Harry Truman hanging upstairs.

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we watch the sun’s slow descent into the ocean, a sight that in the Keys always feels like the day’s most important moment.

“Would you like to have dinner down on the beach?” the hostess asks as we enter the Dining Room. Jill points out a table on the sand. We follow the young woman to a peninsula sandbar that sticks out into the water toward Cuba, waves lapping on both sides, pencil-shaped fish darting in the clear water nearby. Although the vibe is casual, there’s a bit of a formal flair to everything—collared shirts are required, but it’s acceptable to pair them with flip-flops and shorts. We peruse the menu and decide on a bowl of cheesy pasta and mushrooms to start, followed

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by a simple grilled snapper with citrus and seared scallops alongside a tangy frisee salad. Debating a wine to order, we watch the sun’s slow descent into the ocean, a sight that in the Keys always feels like the day’s most important moment, waiting for that green flash that may or may not actually exist. It’s like those last few seconds of sunlight last longer than others as you watch the orange glow disappear—and the couple two tables away from us seem to freeze as we all wait. The glow sinks and then vanishes, the air feeling almost immediately cooler.

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LIT TLE PALM ISL AND RESORT & SPA

Prohibition and presidents The next morning, we take our espressos to the Atlantic Dock, which runs along the east side of the island, and search for the sun we had seen slip into the horizon just the night before. We look out toward Cuba over a blue mirror of sea that simply fades into sky, no horizon, just every shade of blue, like a Sherwin-Williams paint guide, the sun cloaked by a backlit fog. We sit there for a long time, partly because Little Palm is the kind of place where you rarely have somewhere else to go and also because this sunrise is among the main draws. In Florida, none of us live far from the water or a pretty sunrise, but too often we overlook them. These stunning views have been drawing people to Little Palm for decades, but its reputation as a top-end resort is relatively new. During Prohibition, the island was a respite for rum-runners and then a 1940s fishing camp frequented by Bess and Harry Truman. By the time Irma devastated the Keys in 2017, the Little Palm Resort that occupied the island was an Old Florida icon, in need of its own refresh. The resort reopened to much fanfare in March 2020,

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Take a dip in the oceanfront pool or indulge your decadent side in the Dining Room. Opposite from top:

Little Palm was known as Munson Island in the 1920s; portraits of Bess and Harry Truman flank the Great Room; the canopy beds infuse a sense of romance into the bungalows; the deepwater dock welcomes overnight guests and daytrippers to the resort.

just in time to have no choice but to shut down again. It came back in June, and by early 2021, with many of us looking for driving vacations and getaways where it’s easy to be away from everyone else, Little Palm became so in-demand that rates soared—positioning it comfortably among America’s most expensive resorts. It’s no secret why. Everything is steeped in luxury, from the vaulted ceilings of the bungalows to the fluffy white lounge chairs on the beach we find ourselves in after breakfast. Another couple is just returning on a pair of stand-up paddleboards. “We went into the channel, but I chickened out,” the woman says. “Chickened out?” my wife asks, but before we can learn why, Ethan beckons us over. He’s the island’s boat tender, for now, until he heads off to graduate school and eventually, he hopes, a job in the foreign service. Ethan has just hosed down one of the resort’s 12-foot Boston Whalers, and Jill clutches closely the map he hands us, where he’s drawn big, wide circles on the sections that are too shallow. Nearly the whole map is circled.

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Above from left:

The Zen garden is situated in the heart of the resort; the Truman tender shuttles guests from the Shore Station to the resort; each room comes equipped with its own wooden chess set.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Jill asks as I angle the boat into the channel that runs between Little Palm and the neighboring uninhabited island. Most of my boating experience was before we were married, when I was a kid on New Hampshire lakes. So the answer is partly yes, partly no, since navigating the bay’s shallows will be new to me. We motor on. We pass through the main boating channel on our way to Picnic Island, a spit of land in the bay that’s no bigger than a Starbucks parking lot. With a half-mile to go, we can see the

sand and the rocks just inches below the boat’s bow. With the engine raised, we chug along, my wife’s knuckles going white gripping the handrails. We finally get close enough to the tiny beach that I cut the engine and jump out, pulling the boat behind me as my feet navigate the limestone. I tie off the rope to a sea grape and hope my shaky memory of how to tie a slip knot is enough to keep our vessel from drifting off. We have Picnic Island to ourselves this warm morning. Boaters have covered the palm tree trunks with colorful signs

By the Numbers

4.5

acres on Little Palm Island

$8 million $10 million $34 million

cost in 1986 of building a South Pacific–style village

damage caused by Hurricane Irma

on Little Palm

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cost of the renovation completed in 2020

$3,500

cost per night at Little Palm earlier this year

ranking in Condé Nast Traveler’s 2020 Readers’ Choice Awards

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pointing back to their homes in Wisconsin or New Jersey, and Ethan has said it’s typically a busy tie-up spot. But we lucked into being alone, exploring the paths between mangroves and imagining where we’d put the house we would build on the high ground. The trip back to Little Palm is less harried now that we know where to find the deep water, and I open up the engine through the channel, heading to the little patch of lush landscape in the distance.

LIT TLE PALM ISL AND RESORT & SPA

Shoving off After lunch by the pool—a fried-bread veggie sandwich with yucca and a salad with a mustard vinaigrette and quinoa—we head back to the beach. “Where y’all from?” a woman dipping her toes in the water asks with that friendly drawl of North Carolina. We figure out we have that in common, since we spend our summers up in Asheville, and then we swap our impressions of this place where we have found ourselves. “Isn’t it lovely?” she asks. She remarks on the comfort of

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Those mangroves are stark and foreboding, a reminder of the hurricane’s devastation and also a foreign sight to those of us who frequent the Keys. This page clockwise:

Find the perfect spot to sip a sundowner at the Great House bar; the open-air lounge and bar in the Great House; guests arriving by car are welcomed at the Shore Station; Harry Truman with Florida politician John Spottswood in the 1940s

everything, how the beds and the couches and the loungers placed seemingly everywhere just beckon you to stop and sit, maybe have a nap. Ethan is prepping a couple paddleboards for us, but our new friend from North Carolina is talkative, in the way so many of us have become in this past year, desperate for human interaction—maybe even more so after a stay on Little Palm. This short chat on the beach is our longest conversation with anyone else staying on the island. Before going to Little Palm, we thought it might be like the dude ranch we stayed at

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The Gumby Slumber at Little Palm Island Resort & Spa Serves 1

1 ounce pineapple juice 1 ounce cranberry juice 1 ounce orange juice 1 ounce Captain Morgan Spiced Rum 1 ounce Captain Morgan Parrot Bay Rum Fresh coconut PREPARATION: Mix ingredients and serve chilled. Garnish with fresh coconut. For an extra kick, marinate the coconut garnish in 151 rum.

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Kick off your shoes for dinner on the sand; lounge beside the firepits on an outdoor couch; cast a line for dinner or simply catch and release.

a couple summers ago, where you got to know everyone else there well enough to friend each other on Facebook. But here, it’s almost difficult to have run-ins, with the cabanas purposely private and the Dining Room tables spaced well apart. Quiet privacy is a key element of what makes the place so special.

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From the beach, we set off on the paddleboards toward Big Munson Island, which sits just across the skinny channel to the east. The Boy Scouts own Big Munson and keep its 100 acres looking as the Spanish might have found it half a millennium ago. Irma came over Big Munson like barber shears; the hurricane took the mangroves that once circled the shore and tossed them just off the beach. Those mangroves are stark and foreboding, a reminder of the hurricane’s devastation and also a foreign sight to those of us who frequent the Keys, who expect those trees to line the shore like knobby knees rising from the shallows. Instead, they rise like a line of razor wire made of bleached bones. We cut between the dead mangroves to find the most native of beaches before heading farther out to sea, where a shallow reef is occupied by rays and nurse sharks and barracuda. I pull the paddleboards up on the shore, making sure the fins pierce the sand so we won’t be stranded. We walk gingerly, barefoot, over the shell-speckled beach to explore a strip of sand occupied only by ink-black cormorants holding their wings out to the breeze and pelicans doing that dance they do, their heads

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LIT TLE PALM ISL AND RESORT & SPA

in the air, their tote-bag-like necks flapping a prehistoric hello from the locals. Later that morning, I have a spa visit booked: the Organic Slimming Seaweed Leaf Wrap, an experience that involves getting first exfoliated with crunchy dried seaweed and then wrapped in kelp that smells like oysters. Getting a massage while wrapped in kelp promises detoxification and relaxation, and 80 minutes later I feel two drinks into happy hour, long before we order another round of those rum cocktails. All that time in the sun left us feeling lazy for the rest of the afternoon, so we find our bungalow’s most comfortable spot, a king-sized bed facing the water. The sunlight filters through the palms above as we watch a seaplane deliver a couple of new guests to the island. We have dinner again that night at a table on the sand, arriving just in time to watch the last of the orange sun blend into the sea. Afterward, we head up to the Great Room, a comfy living room–like space above the restaurant. The island’s only TV luckily isn’t turned on. We have the place to ourselves, a space that could hold 30, and we play the REM greatest hits

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record on the turntable while deciding which board game to break out. When we return to our bungalow, the gas fire pit is raging, casting a sunset-like glow on palms that rustle busily. Nights end early, it seems, on Little Palm, where the entertainment comes from the sunrise and what’s hiding in the mangroves and maybe the waves lapping up on the rocks. That’s the point, you’ll come to realize here, a place where you’re reminded of the joy in finding an ancient-looking blue heron peeking through the mangroves; in listening to the wake of a seaplane hitting the shoreline; and in the sunrise tomorrow, looking maybe entirely different than the one before. Back at the Shore Station the following morning, there are no Gumby Slumbers ahead of our long drive heading back up the Overseas Highway. As we take a right onto U.S. Route 1, still giddy from our adventures, a flicker of that Keys magic stirs up again as we steal one last look in the direction of Little Palm, a tiny speck of lush green in the distance, a luxuriant respite, a place that inspired us to get lost in order to find that reset we needed.

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Enjoy breakfast, lunch and dinner on the veranda at the Dining Room; the spa offers treatments like the Organic Slimming Seaweed Leaf Wrap; guests are encouraged to explore the area via stand-up paddleboard or Boston Whaler. Shopping details:

Page 57 bikini by Fleur Swim from modelcitizen and sunglasses from Penelope T; page 55, 62, and 63 clothing by Cara Cara New York and jewelry by Christa’s South Seashells; page 60 and 63 bikini by Label B and silk cover up by Très Nomad; page 61 vintage dress from AWB private collection

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Lady Killers kthe Glades The Burmese python population has exploded in South Florida, but you might be surprised to see who’s out on the front lines. By CRAIG PITTMAN // Photography by MARY BETH KOETH

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F Right: Anne

Gorden-Vega spent her childhood hiking around the Everglades. Below: Biologists

estimate there are between 10,000 and 100,000 pythons in the Everglades.

or Beth Koehler and Peggy Van Gorder, this is how it works: Three days a week they run Hair of the Dog, their dog grooming salon in St. Petersburg. Then they close up shop, pick up their camper and head down to the Everglades for three nights of hunting Burmese pythons. Each night of the hunt, they spend hours slowly rolling along gravel back roads searching for the elusive invasive reptiles. They switch on massive lights atop their Jeep, lights that turn the night as bright as day. The humid air is filled with a subdued chorus of hoots and ribbets. The night I rode with them, the younger, more athletic Van Gorder drove, never going more than about 6 mph. Koehler, thinner but more focused, stood with her head through the sunroof, peering ahead for any sign of a snake. The pair, known to their fellow python hunters as “PegBeth,” achieved some statewide fame last year when they bagged the 500th python to be caught by hunters working for the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission. They told me they’re not doing it for the money. There’s hardly any profit in searching for the slithery invaders. The job pays $8.46 an hour plus $50 per snake, with another $25-per-foot bonus for snakes longer than 4 feet. Some nights the pair comes up empty, meaning they are basically making minimum wage.

No, they’re doing it to try to make a difference in South Florida’s environment. “I grew up down here,” Koehler, a 60-year-old Pembroke Pines native, said from the lookout perch. “I’ve seen the changes that have taken place.” She pointed out that the pythons—powerful constrictors that squeeze the life out of their prey—have eaten plenty of birds and deer, and nearly all the foxes, raccoons, squirrels and other small mammals that once made the Everglades region special. “And now,” she said, “all you’re going to see are rats, gators and pythons. … That’s why they have to be taken out.” Van Gorder, an Army brat who grew up all over the place, said they also relish the adrenaline rush of wrestling with a big, hissing snake. Once, she was bitten on the hand by a struggling python. The snake’s tooth remained lodged in her finger for months. It didn’t lessen her enthusiasm for the hunt. “We want to get our adventure in now,” the 54-year-old said cheerfully. “I can sit on a cruise ship when I’m an old lady.” I rode around in their back seat for six very long hours that night. We didn’t find a single python, making this a minimum wage night. When I mentioned I was disappointed at not seeing one, they opened the big locked box behind my seat and pulled out a white bag. Inside: an 8-footer they’d caught the night before, still alive.

LADIES’ NIGHT OUT

The first Burmese python turned up on the outskirts of Everglades National Park in 1979. It measured 11 feet, 9 inches and had been flattened by a car. Rangers made a note of the discovery but made no inquiries about where the snake came from or if there might be more. By the late 1990s, a National Park Service biologist named Ray “Skip” Snow had begun sounding the alarm about pythons taking over the Everglades. No one took his warnings seriously because he had no proof that pythons were mating in the wild. In 2003, he finally found hatchlings, incontrovertible evidence of breeding—only to be told by the people in charge that it was now too late to stop the snakes. Today, biologists estimate anywhere from 10,000 to 100,000 pythons infest Everglades National Park, Big Cypress National Preserve and the thousands of acres of marshy public land surrounding them. To combat the continuing spread, two state agencies have hired hunters to track the snakes down one at a time and haul them out of the swamp. As of September 2019, hunters working for the agencies have caught a little over 2,500 pythons. To the public, the face of Florida’s python hunting program

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is Dusty “Wildman” Crum, who once caught a python that measured 16 feet, 11 inches long. Crum, an orchid dealer in Venice, started out hunting the invasive reptiles while riding a bicycle up and down South Florida back roads. Now he has a truck—and his own TV show. He stars in the Discovery Channel’s Guardians of the Glades. On the highly entertaining show, the folksy, thick-bearded Crum runs through the swamps barefoot, showing little apparent regard for the gators, feral hogs and venomous native snakes that also occupy the soggy terrain. The truth is, though, Florida’s licensed python hunters come in all shapes and sizes, and from a variety of backgrounds and attitudes. Quite a few of them—some of the most successful ones, in fact—are female. And they don’t follow Crum’s approach. “I’m not barefoot!” Van Gorder joked, showing off her boots. Last year, a Miami TV reporter doing a story on python hunters noted that he was “quite surprised to see just who’s out in the Glades catching snakes.” The hunter he was startled by was Anne Gorden-Vega, whose LinkedIn profile describes her as a teacher at the Ceramic League of Miami and an artist who specializes in hand-carved tiles, sculpture and raku firing. What her LinkedIn doesn’t mention is that the bubbly 61-year-old native Floridian has caught more pythons than the 37 other snake hunters working for the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission. How has a 5-foot-10 art teacher with long gray hair managed to top all the other snake-seekers? “There are two secrets to being a successful python hunter,” she told me. “One: Getting out there. Two: Just looking. There’s no magic to it, despite what you see these guys doing on TV or online.” Gorden-Vega grew up hiking around the Everglades, enjoying seeing all the animals. She gave it up when she became a mom, trading in her nature hikes for nine years as a soccer coach. Then one day one of her art students walked into class bragging about going out hunting pythons with one of the state’s contractors. “I couldn’t believe it,” Gorden-Vega told me. “I thought, she doesn’t even know where the

We want to get our adventure in now. I can sit on a cruise ship when I’m an old lady. — P E G GY VAN G O R D E R

Above: Gorden-Vega’s

sons introduce her as “the python hunter.”

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Everglades are, and now she’s going python hunting out there?’” Gorden-Vega finagled an invitation to tag along with her and found she enjoyed the nighttime snake searches. “Monday became Ladies’ Night Out,” she said. “We would drive around on Monday nights laughing our asses off.” She noticed, though, that these expeditions were different from the nature hikes of her youth. She saw no raccoons or foxes or any other small mammals. The pythons had eaten them. A 2012 scientific study found that between 2003 and 2011, the areas where pythons had proliferated saw a 99 percent decrease in raccoon populations, a 98 percent drop in opossums, a 94 percent drop in white-tailed deer and an 87 percent falloff for bobcats. The number for rabbits and foxes: 100 percent. The pythons’ effect on the landscape made Gorden-Vega want to do more snake catching. She checked online and discovered the state wildlife commission was seeking to hire more snake hunters. She told her art student, a 59-year-old stay-at-home mom married to a judge who has his own TV show. They both filled out applications but figured they had zero chance of being selected. To their surprise, the wildlife commission hired both women. “I looked at her and said, ‘They’re desperate,’” Gorden-Vega told me. Of the 38 snake hunters the commission employs, a dozen are women. (The South Florida Water Management District did not respond to a request for information about how many women it employs as hunters.) Gorden-Vega has a big advantage over most of them. She and her husband, a service technician for AT&T and parttime charter boat captain, live about 30 miles from some prime python hunting grounds. That means she can venture out more frequently than many of the others. She drives a 2017 Chevy Colorado ZR2 with four-wheel drive and bright LED lights on top. The truck has what she calls “68,000 python miles” on the odometer. She burns a lot of gas patrolling the levees half the night. “My tax guy said, ‘You should really rethink this python thing,’” Gorden-Vega said. “I told

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From Left to Right: Gorden-Vega uses the element of surprise to capture pythons; wrestling matches with

these snakes can last anywhere from 15 minutes to one hour; python hunters earn $8.46 an hour.

Amy Siewe Where she hunts: Big Cypress & Francis Taylor Years hunting: 2 Craziest python story: “When the python I was holding bit me square on the butt!”

him I can’t. I have to do it. … I’m addicted to the adrenaline, on top of helping the Everglades. If I break even, I feel like I’m ahead.” Sometimes Gorden-Vega goes hunting with friends or with licensed hunters from out of town. She won’t go with just anyone, though. Although they share a common goal— ridding the Everglades of these scaly intruders—not all the python hunters get along. Gorden-Vega, talking about it, just laughed, then said, “There’s more drama on the levees than you would believe!” Sometimes, though, Gorden-Vega goes out alone, leaving her husband at home as she cruises the levees. She fills the silence by listening to audiobooks. When I asked what kind, she said, “Historical fiction, anything about Florida, murder mysteries, weird stuff. It’s fun being out in the Glades and listening to stories about the Everglades.” Her two sons, who are in their 20s, “think I’m a badass,” she said. “It impresses their friends when they whip out a picture of Mom with a snake. They introduce me as the python hunter.”

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I have to do it. I’m addicted to the adrenaline, on top of helping the Everglades. — A N N E G O R D E N-V E G A

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Gorden-Vega figures her best tool for catching pythons is the element of surprise. The pythons are used to being the apex predator, so when she grabs one by the head the snake is too surprised to react. That gives her a chance to stuff it into a bag. If it puts up a struggle, the wrestling match usally takes about 15 minutes or on the rare occasion up to an hour. She just lies down on the snake, digs in with her elbows and tries to wear the thing out. Sometimes the pythons fight back in a very messy way, peeing and pooping on her. “We call that the sweet smell of success,” she said, “because you smell that way because you got one.” She can’t picture herself ever quitting. “It becomes a part of you,” she explains. “You think, ‘It’s warm tonight, I’ve got to go out.’ You get an itch.”

THe python perch

On Donna Kalil’s website, she does not call herself a python hunter. Instead she’s a “python elimination specialist.”

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She wears a python-skin hat. Her Ford Expedition sports python-skin seat covers and a custom-made “Python Perch” on the roof. Her license plate says “SNAKER.” Once, when she gave a speech at a conference, her daughter Deanna made cookies for the audience using python eggs. “This has taken over my life,” Kalil told me. Kalil collected snakes and lizards as a kid. She sold Florida real estate in the 1980s. In 2017 she became the first female python hunter hired by the South Florida Water Management District. She was going to try it for three months, but the months have stretched into three years. Now the 5-foot-10-inch, 125-pound Kalil is one of only three people licensed to hunt pythons for both the water district and the wildlife commission, meaning she has access to land owned by both agencies. The water district and the wildlife commission take a different approach to the python problem. Wildlife commission contractors capture the snakes and haul them to a laboratory in Davie to be examined, while water district contractors are hired just to kill the snakes, period. The two agencies say they’re going to “align and expand upon” their differing approaches, but so far have not explained what that means—except that they won’t let hunters work for both agencies anymore. Kalil believes in killing animals only if you’re going to eat them, so this has been the hardest aspect of the job. The first one she killed was little, just 4 feet, 6 inches long. She shot it with a .22-caliber pistol, one bullet fired straight into the brain. “I cried for a good long time,” she said. Even now, “I can’t look them in the eyes. And I apologize to them for what I’m about to do to them.” Scientists have cautioned the hunters not to eat Everglades pythons because they’re full of mercury deposited in the marsh as a result of air pollution from nearby cities. But Kalil bought her own mercury testing kit so she can check each snake’s meat and make her own decision about whether it’s safe to eat. “I’ve only had one come up positive,” she told me. “It was a 15-footer. Most of the snakes I catch are 7 to 8 feet long, so they’re only a couple of years old and they haven’t yet absorbed that much mercury.” She’s also tried cooking the leathery eggs, finally deciding that soft-boiled is the best way: “They’re all yolk, very rich in protein.” One nearly killed her. She was grappling with a 7 ½-footer when her daughter called. Rather than let the call go to voicemail, Kalil tried to answer it. “It was a silly mistake,” she told me. While Kalil’s attention was elsewhere, the snake suddenly wrapped itself around her neck. She couldn’t get the leverage to pull it loose, so she had to stagger back to her truck, where some friends were packing up

Dynamic Duo

Beth Koehler

Peggy Van Gorder Where they hunt: Florida Everglades/ Big Cypress Years hunting: 5 Largest python ever caught: “13 feet, and it was missing its entire tail!” Craziest python story: “We saw a python wrapped around some prey at the water’s edge, and we both jumped in to grab a part of the snake. Beth thought she had been bitten by it, but when she lifted her hand, the small gator it had been constricting had attached itself to her fingers!”

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Donna Kalil Where she hunts: From Naples to Miami Years hunting: 4 Craziest python story: “When I grabbed the 13-foot, 78-pound python and it pulled me off the levee like a ragdoll.”

their gear, and tap one on the back. Her friends got the snake off of her before she passed out. “We bagged it, and it’s all good,” she said. I asked what would have happened if she had been by herself. She said, “If I had been by myself, hopefully I wouldn’t have answered the phone.” Kalil hasn’t saved any other hunters, but she has rescued a couple of alligators that were losing battles with pythons. She has also caught a python that had already swallowed a gator. Kalil has caught nearly 300 pythons so far, including more than one “mating ball” made up of multiple snakes tangled together during breeding season. The biggest python she’s caught by herself was 12 ½ feet long. The biggest one she nabbed with assistance was a 15 ½ footer. She enjoys taking volunteers and reporters out on a hunt. She lets them sit up top in her Python Perch, which is modeled after the tuna tower found on fishing boats. It gives her passengers an unparalleled vantage point for seeing the full landscape and looking for the telltale glimmer from the snakes’ scales. She brings along water and granola bars—and also jerky she’s made out of python meat. “It’s very chewy,” she told me.

on Guardians of the Glades, she said. “That’s why I try to get in front of the cameras so much,” she told me. “I don’t want to see a bunch of guys coming out here shooting up the Everglades because they think the only good snake is a dead snake.”

A SWAMP SISTERHOOD

One of the people Kalil helped to train is Amy Siewe (pronounced SEE-we), who says she abandoned a successful career in real estate in Indiana to move to Florida and become a python hunter. “I have this insane passion for snakes,” she told me. “I can’t explain it.” When she was growing up, her dad would take her to a nearby creek and teach her how to catch frogs and other small critters—including reptiles. She started keeping snakes as pets and even began breeding them for sale while she was selling real estate. Siewe, 43, documents her reptile encounters on her Twitter, Instagram and YouTube accounts, one of which is called

Wait, they pay people to hunt snakes in Florida? — A MY S I E W E

Anne Gorden-Vega Where she hunts: Big Cypress Years hunting: 4 Pythons caught: More than 250 Largest python caught: 15 feet, 9 inches

“I use a dry rub steak seasoning on it. It’s like protein bubble gum because it takes a while to chew it up.” Kalil has done multiple TV interviews—“ABC, CBS, NBC, PBS,” she says, ticking them off—because she wants to show viewers that python hunting is not some sort of Wild West roundup where anything goes—contrary to what some amateurs have posted on social media. “I love snakes,” she said. “I have seen people grabbing snakes by the tail and slinging them around. I see that as harassing them. There’s no need to grab a snake by the tail.” When she started out as the lone woman working for the water district, no one showed her the ropes, she said. “There were cliques out here that didn’t want to share information,” she said. “Their attitude was, ‘I learned the hard way, so you should have to learn the hard way too.’” Kalil said she’s tried to take the opposite approach—not just showing new hunters the right way to catch pythons, but even recruiting people to sign up for the job. She doesn’t want them thinking it’s anything like what they’ve seen

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“Amy’s Snake Adventures and Other Wild Escapades.” Siewe filmed herself catching Lake Erie water snakes, and the video went viral. Soon she got a call from a reality show that was filming a python hunt, asking if she’d be interested in participating. Her reaction was: “Wait, they pay people to hunt snakes in Florida?” She never got on TV, but the inquiry planted a seed. She hated Indiana’s bitterly cold winters. She traveled down to Florida and managed to get Kalil to take her out on a hunt. They caught a python that night. “Right there, I was hooked,” she said. She went back to Indiana and told her fiance she had to move to Florida right away. That was at the end of January. By mid-March, she was a Florida resident, renting a room from a stranger and trying to figure out how to get hired to do what Kalil was doing. (Her fiance eventually joined her.) “I thought, ‘OK, I’ll jump into the Everglades, the snakes will be everywhere, I’ll pull them out and everything’s good,’” she told me.

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Above: The state has tried

using dogs and infrared technology to locate and capture the snakes.

When she tried to get hired, she discovered an apparent catch-22. To become a licensed python hunter, she had to show she had experience hunting pythons. But how to do that without getting a license first? And she didn’t know which agencies were which—the wildlife commission, the water district and so forth. By volunteering to ride with Kalil and help her catch snakes, Siewe picked up the necessary experience to get her license, and a job with the wildlife commission, last July. She is also an authorized agent for the National Park Service. Unlike most

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of the other python hunters, she lives in a condominium on the western side of the state and primarily patrols the Big Cypress National Preserve. She ventures out looking for pythons Scan to watch a video of Anne about four times a week, sometimes on Gorden-Vega foot, sometimes by car, sometimes by on the hunt at Flamingomag canoe. She and a partner paddle out to .com/video islands in the swamp, hop out, grab any snakes they see and then load them into the canoe to take back. “One time I went out canoeing, we got seven pythons that day, one of them 14 feet long,” she told me. “The canoe was so low to the water we could not have put in another snake.” In the short time that she’s been a licensed python tracker, she’s seen news stories touting new ways of looking for the elusive snakes. The state has tried having dogs sniff them out and using a new type of camera with infrared technology that would be mounted on a drone. The problem with the dogs, she says, is that they’re at risk of being gobbled up by alligators. As for the technological advances, she says, those devices still can’t spot the pythons if they’re hidden beneath the earth. “They burrow,” Siewe said. “A lot of their nests are undergound. You can be standing right on top of a python and not see it.” That’s why the only way to catch them is the slow, lowtech way: hiring hunters like Koehler, Van Gorder, GordenVega, Kalil and Siewe to search for them for hours on end, then grab them by hand and stuff them into a lockbox. About that box, by the way: When hunters working for the wildlife commission catch pythons, they’re supposed to take them to a state laboratory in Davie. Some pythons are killed with a bolt gun and then cut open for examination. Some are injected with a microchip for tracking and turned loose so they will lead the hunters and researchers to other snakes. At least, that’s the way it’s supposed to work. But during the coronavirus pandemic, the rules changed. The Davie lab was no longer open to visiting hunters. Instead, “we are having to euthanize our snakes and do virtual measuring and weighing with a meeting app,” said Gorden-Vega. Snakes that come from Everglades National Park and Big Cypress have to be turned in at those parks, she said. Snakes that come from outside federal property, the hunters can keep. “I personally have been selling them to another contractor who processes them and is selling the final leather to a designer that makes top-of-the-line handbags,” she told me. “I’m glad they’re going to good use, but I’m not that happy about having to dispatch my own snakes. … I guess we’re all learning to deal with things in ways we’re not used to. Definitely interesting times!”

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THE

Black

A single touchdown began the integration of football in the Old South

Pioneers of Southern Football By ERIC BARTON

Illustrations by STEPHEN LOMAZZO

The 1970 team photo for the University of Alabama’s football team includes four lines of young men: the first line sitting, the next kneeling, and then the others standing, arranged by height— big boys in the back. All of them, every single one, is white. They’re doing their best to look brutish and intimidating, but they’re baby-faced, really just big children. Of course there’s no knowing today what each of those boys thought about racism. But these were the sons of a generation represented by the brutality on the Edmund Pettus Bridge down the road in Selma. They grew up in a society that forced seamstress Rosa Parks to the back of the bus in Montgomery. Their

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coaches refused to allow Black players in their locker room. So just imagine what it was like for Leonard George to line up across from those boys on Sept. 26, 1970. That was his first year playing varsity for the University of Florida Gators, and getting put in the game, in Tuscaloosa, was everything to him. The fact that he was Black, he says now, didn’t cross his mind. At least right then, he wasn’t pondering the significance of what it would mean if he were to score, to be the first Black man to bust through that line of white faces into Alabama’s home e nd zone. In a shameful section of America that had largely refused integration, Leonard George could challenge a literal color line. “I wasn’t thinking about what it would mean,” George says today. “I was saying, ‘Wow, I’m in the game, and we’re close to the goal!’ I was really just excited to be out there.” With the ball lined up between the 1-yard line and the end

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zone, the Gators were just inches away from scoring. With the snap, the quarterback stuffed the ball between George’s hands. He pushed forward. Most likely you don’t know Leonard George’s name. But with that play, he became the first Black athlete to score a touchdown in Tuscaloosa against the juggernaut that was the University of Alabama football team. After that, universities across the Old South that had refused to integrate football teams gave in and offered scholarships to Black kids. It wasn’t that they realized the error in their prejudice; it was simply that George’s touchdown showed that they’d be more likely to win with Black players on their teams. George and other Black players who forged their way onto Southern football squads withstood awfulness that’s hard to comprehend today—the screams of bigots, the beatings, the soul-crushing swallowing of hate even from their own teammates. They were the Jackie Robinsons of college football, and they’ve gotten very little recognition for it.

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From left to right:

Willie Jackson Sr., a wide receiver for the Florida Gators; Leonard George poses with his Jesuit High School teammates in 1969; Leonard George was the first Black football player to receive a scholarship from the University of Florida.

GAME CHANGERS

The integration of football in the Old South did not start with a pioneering university president or coach. There would be no Branch Rickey, the Brooklyn Dodgers owner who hired Jackie Robinson. There would be instead a tiny Tampa high school called Jesuit. In 1964, Jesuit was among the first Florida high schools to integrate. For a private Catholic high school, the decision to integrate wasn’t all that groundbreaking at first. The innovation came when the football team went on the road. Jesuit’s schedule was stacked with many of the state’s powerhouse schools, most of them located in the center of the peninsula, decidedly Southern, undeniably segregated. Drew Marquardt, a filmmaker, is currently in postproduction on a documentary about Jesuit’s first integrated football team. They heard all kinds of insults from the fans in Lakeland and

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of Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in 1966

DeFuniak Springs, Marquardt says, but nothing was worse than the audience in Lake City. That game against Lake City was part of the semifinals for the 1967 state championship, and the star player for Jesuit was Leonard George. Knowing they needed to stop George, Lake City sent in a lineman low on the roster but known for his size. After one play, he started throwing haymakers at George. “They sent in this third-string guy, basically like a hockey bruiser,” Marquardt says. George, now 69, still remembers the feeling of those fists coming down on him. “Man, he’s just pounding away on me. I said, ‘At least I have to defend myself.’ And they said, ‘You’re both out of the game.’ And I said, ‘God, what is this?’” In 1968, George became the first black football player to receive a scholarship from the University of Florida. He would be joined by another: wide receiver Willie Jackson Sr. When George started playing for the Gators’ varsity team in 1970, that moment in Lake City would define how he’d carry himself, how he’d react to the hatred, to the things they yelled at him as he walked on the field with his teammates in Mississippi and Alabama and Georgia. It was like that for every one of those pioneering black athletes in Florida. Many of them met tragedy and hardship, and few look back on those victories without remembering the pain of the verbal and physical assaults rained down on them. Calvin Patterson, Florida State University’s first Black football player, had also been among the first to break the color line at Miami’s Palmetto High. When he accepted a scholarship to play at FSU in 1968, he got death threats not only from opponents but also from fans of his own team. His grades tanked, and he lost eligibility to play, never getting in a

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AN UNEXPECTED HOMECOMING

That touchdown by Leonard George wouldn’t have been possible without Carlos Alvarez, and still today, Alvarez likes to joke that he deserves a footnote in history. Alvarez was a wide receiver for the Gators, a Cuban immigrant with light skin who says he didn’t face the same prejudices. He had only that one moment—when he was a sophomore, in 1969, and had caught a pass against Mississippi State that the ref called out of bounds. Alvarez got up and started arguing with the ref, when a Mississippi state trooper standing on the sidelines interrupted: “Mr. Alvarez, that may have been in in Havana, Cuba, but it was out in Starkville, Mississippi.”

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UNIVERSIT Y ARCHIVES PHOTOGR APH COLLEC TION, SPECIAL AND AREA STUDIES COLLEC TIONS, GEORGE A . SMATHERS LIBR ARIES, UNIVERSIT Y OF FLORIDA

Above: An aerial view

game. At just 22, Patterson shot himself. At the University of Miami, Ray Bellamy became the first Black student athlete in 1967, a year before George joined the Gators. Bellamy was a star in football, basketball and track, but he still never felt welcome on the football field. All these years later, Bellamy says today he tries not to think about those days. “I had this thing in me, whatever I did, I would take it to my grave,” he says. “There are some things you live through, and you don’t want to live through them again.” Not that long ago, Bellamy heard one of his former white teammates at UM was doing poorly, with likely just days left to live. So Bellamy gave him a call, after not seeing him for a lifetime. “I stood in the huddle next to him for many games, and I called him up to say as a teammate I cared about him. He said, and he’s on his deathbed, he said, ‘Listen, Ray, I don’t deal with people like you. Don’t get me wrong, Ray. I have nothing against you. But I don’t deal with your people.’ Can you imagine that? That really hurt me. That really hurt me a lot.” Most likely, Bellamy would’ve gone on to play pro football if not for a car accident that nearly killed him in 1970. He stayed at UM and became the first Black student class president. He earned three degrees, including a master’s in college student personnel. He got married, had four children and works as an administrator at Florida A&M University in Tallahassee. Unlike some Black players of his era, who want to relive the games or the hardships, Bellamy says he puts the vitriol of the past out of his thoughts. “I have a clean heart, and it’s behind me now.” It’s not like that for Leonard George, who looks back on that game in Tuscaloosa with what sounds like sheer joy, like he’s still that sophomore handed the ball at the goal line.

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In 1970 Tuscaloosa, Alvarez remembers feeling like the whole stadium, all 58,000 people, were cheering against Leonard George as much as they were cheering for the home team. In the play just before George’s historic touchdown, Alvarez found himself open in the end zone. The Gators were running a quick slant, but the Alabama player assigned to cover Alvarez thought it was an out pattern. Alvarez was wide open, a pass spinning toward him, the end zone below his feet. The defensive back knew it was a touchdown. “He just draped himself all over me, because there was no question it was going to be a touchdown.” The refs called it pass interference, giving the Gators the ball on the half-yard line. George came in the game, and they called a simple play: George was to run up the middle, between the tackles, and dive.

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It wasn’t a simple thing. Not only did George have to contend with that line of white faces on the Alabama side, but it was like the sky above was against him. It was unseasonably hot for late September, nearly 90 degrees. The university had installed a new field of Astroturf, and the concrete below it had radiated heat all day. Worse, the visiting locker rooms in Tuscaloosa had no AC. Gators players would stick their feet in ice baths between plays. There was also that feeling that somebody in the crowd or on the other team just might do something about Leonard George. “It was the Old South,” George says. “A lot of Confederate flags and angry people in the stadium. I felt like the only Black person in the whole stadium at that time.” But no matter what the fans said to him, no matter how he felt looking up and seeing those Confederate flags everywhere,

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he always thought back to Lake City. It’s what he’d done his first time seeing the flags flying in Mississippi, where he knew he had to avoid a conflict. “When you’re the only Black player on the field in Mississippi, are you going to get in a fight? Are you going to yell? Because then you’ll get the whole stadium down on you, and I’m sure they would’ve loved that,” he said. He learned in Lake City that even if he simply defended himself, even if he raised a fist only to keep himself from being beaten, he knew how the crowd and the refs would see it: He had been the aggressor. At the least, they’d throw him out of the game, as they had when he was a high school junior. And so he internalized the cruel treatment, in a way that’s incomprehensible for those of us who have never had to endure it. You might be surprised at the way he laughs about the

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it was the old south. I felt like the only black person in the whole stadium at that time. —leonard george

1970 game now, about what he went through to be there. He’s an optimist, choosing to focus on the good moments— the touchdown, rather than whatever it took to get there. Ask him about where he stayed in Tuscaloosa, and he’ll say, “I don’t know if they had to make special arrangements because of me or things like that.” When he scored and found himself in the Crimson Tide end zone, George didn’t think about what it meant. He didn’t look up at the faces in the crowd to see a collective look of disdain or disappointment or realization of an error in ways. He was, after all, just a kid with a ball. “What a joy that was! But it took years and years to think about, I mean, at the time I wasn’t thinking about all those things, to score a touchdown against Alabama, in Alabama, in Tuscaloosa. All I was thinking about was helping my team and scoring a touchdown.” After graduating, George returned to the University of Florida in 1978 to become one of the law school’s first Black students. It wasn’t nearly as hard because “I didn’t have to go through Alabama and Mississippi.” He was assistant attorney general in Tallahassee after graduating from law school in 1980, then moved to Atlanta and had his own law practice there for 13 years. After a short stint living in Tampa, George moved to Hawaii in 1999, where he became a mediator and lost touch with his former teammates. Many of them thought he must have died, and he had become something of a folk hero, this pioneering Black athlete who just disappeared. Over the years, the distance took a toll, and George wanted to “come back to all the things and the people I know, including Jesuit and the University of Florida.” He moved back to Florida in 2019, and that year he showed up to homecoming. At halftime, the Gators recognized the 50th anniversary of that historic 1969 team. Alvarez— who also went on to become a lawyer and mediator, still practicing in Tallahassee—says it should be just the start of the recognition George and Jackson deserve. “Leonard George and Willie Jackson always, always rose above the racism that was leveled against them,” Alvarez says. “They deserve credit. I feel they deserve a statue outside of Florida Field. And I don’t say that lightly.” People tell him sometimes that he’s a hero or a civil rights icon or something else that embarrasses him. He says, “I just tried my hardest and you don’t think of all these things.” In addition to homecoming at Florida, George also got to speak to the kids at Jesuit. They have a couple of pictures of him on the wall, he says. He looked around at that team, and it struck him that half the kids or more are Black. “And I said, right on. That really makes me feel good.”

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SUMMER 2016

A b e low-t h e -s u r fac e lo o k at f r e e d i v i n g , a n a n c i e n t s p o rt e n j oy i n g

Below:

Freedivers take a single breath before venturing underwater for minutes at a time.

r e n e w e d i n t e r e st, a n d h ow i t ’s d raw i n g F lo r i d i a n s b a c k to t h e s e a

By VICTOR MAZE

PHOTOGR APH BY X X X X X X X X X X

Above:

Freedivers practice holding their breath while lying facedown in a pool.

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T PHOTOGR APHY BY IMMERSION FREEDIVING (THIS PAGE); PERFORMANCE FREEDIVING (PREVIOUS PAGE)

wo miles off the coast of Fort Lauderdale, far past the shallow reefs speckled with colorful swimsuits and snorkeling tourists, the 42-foot, glass-bottom boat glides to a stop. The water here is deep—570 feet, to be exact—and a bit choppy, but otherwise perfect: denim blue, with shimmering waves that dance in the morning sun. A jagged horizon of A1A beach resorts is still visible to the west, but in the other direction, there is nothing but endless miles of ocean. Onboard, a handful of dive students make last-minute adjustments to their wetsuits, pulling masks over their eyes as they pad their way toward the back of the boat, where they will soon descend into the lapis water. Their instructor enters first, followed a few moments later by the first student, JP Quirino, 36, a tall and athletic general contractor from North Miami. The deck is littered with extra weights, spare fins, and other diving paraphernalia, creating a scene you might expect to see on any dive boat, anywhere in the world—with only one thing missing: the silver tanks of compressed air, ubiquitous on any SCUBA trip. As the last student slides off the back of the boat and into the inky abyss, it becomes clear that this is no oversight, but just another day in the captivating world of recreational freediving.

Deep Thoughts

Below:

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At first, everything about freediving seems counterintuitive: taking a deep breath and then disappearing, for minutes at a time, into the dark waters of the sea, away from the light, swimming into a world where our first primal instinct as humans—to breathe in oxygen— is impossible. For divers trained in SCUBA, maintaining a constant and abundant supply of air is priority No. 1. Why then do freedivers purposefully choose to descend to such depths with no oxygen at all, other than the few liters they can carry in their lungs? “The big difference I see between SCUBA and freediving is how you are received in that underwater environment,” says Bill Van

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- BILL VAN DEMAN

Deman, an avid spearfisherman for more than 15 years and owner of Tampa-based Abyss Freediving, which offers group courses as well as private instruction. “With SCUBA, the response you get from marine life is not completely natural. For photographers and hunters, if you go in as a breath-hold diver, everything in the environment sees you as another animal. You are able to get up close to fish, and large marine life will really perceive you as part of the environment.” He relates the comparison of freediving to hiking through a national park, while SCUBA diving is more like driving through in an SUV. Practiced in cultures around the world since ancient times, spearfishing brings many new divers to the sport, including Quirino. With more than a decade of experience spearfishing on frequent trips to the Caribbean with his buddies, he was interested in learning how to dive better and stay under for longer, while also picking up some safety tips along the way. “We constantly go over to the Bahamas and dive, and you’re in the middle of the ocean with nobody around you for 50 miles,” he says. Because Quirino already had considerable experience on the water, the intermediate four-day freediver course—purchased by his wife as a Christmas gift—was a perfect fit. Aside from spearfishing, many new freedivers find their way to this addictive sport through the gateway drug of SCUBA. This was the case for Ted Harty, a former SCUBA instructor who now teaches freediving and also trains instructors, through his Fort Lauderdale-based company,

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Immersion Freediving. Harty is a well-known competitive diver as well, having broken national records in competitions held around the world. “When I switched to freediving from SCUBA, there was one particular reef down in the Keys that I had dived more than 500 times,” Harty says. “When I started freediving that same reef, I immediately noticed that fish reacted differently, because I was just a big fish. They are much more inquisitive and less likely to take off because you are absolutely a part of that environment as opposed to this crazy mechanical thing that’s down there.” If these reasons are attractive to underwater enthusiasts, they can be positively game-changing for scientists and marine biologists. Ricardo Paris of Miami and his wife, Claire, a national freediving record holder herself, are currently in the process of creating a scientific freediving program at the University of Miami through his training company, Vortex Freediving. As an associate professor of ocean sciences, Claire has seen the benefits of safe and successful freediving within the scientific community. “When you are dealing with shallower depths, it’s a much easier and less burdensome discipline than SCUBA,” Ricardo explains. “Our program adapts freediving techniques to certain fieldwork that needs to be done in science, like tagging sharks or studying the life cycles of fish.”

Physiology Unplugged

At first glance, freediving seems deceptively simple; in fact, many snorkelers are in essence freediving when they take a deep breath and drop a few feet below the surface to get a closer look at the sea life below. However, the steps that properly trained freedivers take before, during and after their dives reveal a complex methodology designed to maximize air intake, minimize unnecessary movements that waste oxygen and, above all, prepare the body mentally and physically to deal with any safety hazards that could arise along the way. Divers prepare for each descent by “breathing up”

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With other sports, people go into an accelerated mental phase: they become excited, they get pumped up. With freediving, it’s the opposite. You want to approach it from a relaxed standpoint and take away the competitive mentality that we normally bring to sports.

near Marathon

Located eight miles off the coast of Key Colony Beach, Sombrero Reef is easy to find—just look for the 142-foot, still-functioning lighthouse that marks this standout dive site. Home to a kaleidoscope of colorful coral and tropical fish, Sombrero has an average depth of 20 feet, making it an ideal spot for new divers. “Shallow reefs, which are all over the Keys, are good for divers,” says Ted Harty, who taught diving in Marathon for several years. “When I lived in the Keys, I dove Sombrero more than 500 times, even on my days off.”

WRECK TREK near Miami Beach

Ricardo Paris and his wife, Claire, frequently start their dives by swimming straight out into the ocean from Miami Beach. From manta rays to manatees, “you never know what you are going to see,” he says. For a special day, they join a dive tour to the Wreck Trek, a string of more than 75 diveable wrecks that create an expansive artificial reef off the coast of Miami. A word of caution: These wrecks may be best viewed from above, as recreational divers—both with and without air supplies—are discouraged from entering them.

WHERETHEPROSGO

Surrounded by warm waters, Florida’s expansive coastline is a freediver’s paradise. With so many great dive sites to choose from, three experts share the best spots for taking the plunge.

SOMBRERO REEF

FLORIDA’S FRESHWATER SPRINGS

including the Blue Grotto (Williston) and Troy Spring (Branford)

Above:

Freediving students learn kick cycles to conserve energy and wear long, light fins for greater efficiency. Opposite:

Freediving classes include a mix of classroom, pool and open-water training.

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With crystal clear water and a constant temperature of 72 degrees, Florida’s abundant spring system offers a comfortable alternative to ocean dives, which can sometimes be derailed by strong winds or poor weather conditions. Bill Van Deman conducts year-round classes in freshwater springs around the state, from Ocala all the way up to the Panhandle. “It’s a unique experience to dive in these natural aquifer formations,” he says. “For someone new and starting out, it’s a relaxing way to get the freediving experience in a more controlled environment—provided you stay out of caves.”

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on the surface for several minutes. During our day-to-day lives, most of us use only a fraction of our lung capacity, taking shallow breaths that barely raise our chest with each inhale. Because freedivers will have just one breath for each underwater dive, they practice filling their lungs to capacity through a series of segmented inhalations, first filling their diaphragms as their stomachs extend, followed by their chests. In freediving classes, students learn that just when you think you have taken the largest breath possible, there is still room for more. By lifting the shoulders, students are able to access the top-most portion of their lung capacity. Beginning and intermediate divers then descend to distances ranging from 10 to 40 meters, while advanced and competitive divers may go much deeper, continually equalizing their ears along the way and employing specific kick cycles to conserve energy, before returning to the surface a few minutes later. If it sounds like a complicated thing to learn on your own, it is. But Floridians can catch classes from respected companies like Performance Freediving International (PFI) and get certified in proper techniques once or twice a month in cities around the state. PFI employs several full-time instructors while also partnering with local instruction companies, like those owned by Van Deman, Harty and Paris. The techniques of the sport have wideranging applications, and PFI has developed courses to train everyone from a big-wave surfer eager to learn about breath holds in highstress situations, to a magician who famously attempted underwater escape-artist tricks and world-record breath holds on national TV, to military teams including the U.S. Naval Special Warfare Group and U.S. Special Forces. Above:

Freedivers get acquainted with an echinoderm. Opposite from top:

Freediving students learn that, just when you have taken the largest breath possible, there’s still room for more; freediving lets people mingle with marine life in a more organic way than does SCUBA diving; new divers descend to depths of 10 to 40 meters.

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You are exposing your body and mind to certain extremes, so as a result, you become a lot more conscious about your health. We started doing more yoga, pranayama breathing and meditation...it has pretty much been accepted by the whole freediving community that you need that flexibility, mental strength and breathing from yoga.

- RICARDO PARIS

Crash course

Depending on the level, recreational freediving courses typically span two to four days, often around a weekend, and include a mix of classroom, pool and open-water training. During these classes, new and intermediate divers learn about the physical side of the sport and what’s going on in their bodies as

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Above:

Freediving has been practiced in cultures around the world since ancient times. Below:

Freedivers drop weighted ropes to mark depth and to orient themselves underwater.

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they make increasingly deeper dives. The scientific phenomenon behind divers’ ability to hold their breath for long periods underwater is called the mammalian dive reflex (MDR) and refers to a series of physiological adaptations all mammals undergo when their faces come in contact with cool water. First, the heart rate begins to slow, by as much as 50 percent in humans, and even more in seals, otters, dolphins and other mammals that spend more time underwater. If you’ve ever splashed water on your face at the bathroom sink to calm down during a stressful moment, you’ve experienced MDR. Next, the capillaries in the fingers and toes constrict, pushing more oxygenated blood to essential organs: the heart, brain and lungs. As the diver goes deeper, this blood shift increases. At more extreme depths, or after multiple dives, the spleen releases a fresh batch of red blood cells and pushes even more oxygen into the system. For all of these reasons, divers can achieve longer breath holds underwater than on land, and static apnea—the practice of holding one’s breath while lying facedown in a pool—is an essential training technique. Once students learn the science behind the sport, the idea of underwater breath holds becomes less frightening. Although new divers may find that perfecting their kick cycles or learning to properly equalize ear pressure can present a challenge, for many, the biggest hurdles are mental ones. This was certainly true for Quirino. “The mental part was hardest for me—taking your mind somewhere else and off of having to breathe,” he says. “Sometimes my mind is too active; I can’t shut it off and go into a Zen or meditative state. You have to learn to do that to succeed in this class.” Van Deman agrees, noting how this makes freediving different from many other athletic endeavors. “With other sports, people go into an accelerated mental phase: they become excited, they get pumped up,” he says. “With freediving, it’s the opposite. You want to approach it from a relaxed standpoint and take away the competitive mentality that we normally bring to sports.”

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Above:

At shallow depths, freediving is much easier and less burdensome than SCUBA.

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IMMERSIVE

EXPERIENCES Although freediving and SCUBA make a big splash, there are more ways to view the world below.

SNUBA

SEA TREK

WHAT: A hybrid of snorkeling and SCUBA, the aptly named SNUBA allows uncertified enthusiasts to reach depths of up to 20 feet by swimming with a mask, fins, a weight belt, a harness and a mouth regulator, which is attached via hose to a floating raft that contains the air source.

WHAT: Harking back to a more traditional look— think 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea—Sea Trek offers a modern take on helmet diving, allowing divers to walk the ocean floor at depths of up to 30 feet while wearing a helmet that provides constant airflow.

WHERE: Guided tours are currently available in Destin, St. Pete Beach and various places throughout the Keys. snuba.com

WHERE: Florida divers can try it out in underwater habitats at the Miami Seaquarium and Discovery Cove in Orlando. sea-trek.com

REBREATHER DIVING WHAT: Popular with underwater photographers, a rebreather is a closed-circuit breathing apparatus that recycles the air you exhale underwater, adding in oxygen, without creating bubbles. WHERE: If you are SCUBA certified, you can try this method in a Discover Rebreather course offered by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors. padi.com

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PHOTOGR APHY BY (THIS PAGE AND OPPOSITE) PERFORMANCE FREEDIVING

Danger Zone

Like any sport, freediving has its dangers. It’s been called the second most dangerous sport after BASE jumping. High-profile deaths, including that of Florida native Nick Mevoli at a 2013 competition, have cast a shadow over what, in many ways, can be a low-impact sport that is great for beginners. The most common risk of recreational freediving is blacking out and losing control of your airway, which explains why dive students receive hours of instruction on safety protocol and are repeatedly reminded of the golden rule: to always dive with at least one other trained diver, and to take turns diving—“one up, one down”—so that the person going deep has someone watching him on the way back up, in case a loss of motor control or a blackout should occur. Ninety percent of blackouts happen at the surface, so instructors stress the importance of continuing to watch your buddy for a full 30 seconds after each dive. “Freediving has a problem when it comes to perception,” Harty says. “The only thing the average person knows about freediving is something they’ve seen on the news about guys who tried to dive as deep as humanly possible and died. But competitive divers trying to break world records make up less than 1 percent of what freediving is. Most freedivers just want to play on a reef in 20 feet of water and like the idea that they don’t have to get a tank and wear all that gear.” Harty also says that the low barriers to entry are part of what makes the sport attractive to all kinds of people—but conversely, much harder to regulate. “You can’t go SCUBA diving without taking a course, or get a tank refill without showing your certification,” he says. “But there is nobody who will stop you from freediving. That’s the risk—there isn’t a gatekeeper. Freediving is dangerous the way most people do it because they don’t know how to do it safely.” If done properly and with training, freediving can be a low-impact sport that is relaxing, challenging and ideal for students of all ages.

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Above:

Surrounded by warm waters, Florida’s coastline is a freediver’s paradise. Opposite:

All mammals undergo a series of physiological adaptations when their faces come in contact with cool water.

At Peace

“I have seen students from 11 to 72 years old have amazing performances,” says Van Deman. “It is a forgiving sport on the diver’s body, not something that creates a lot of shock, impact and stress on your joints and muscles.” In fact, for some divers, freediving has opened them to other healthy practices such as yoga, meditation and more nutritious eating, which helps keep the body in shape for deeper dives. “You are exposing your body and your mind to certain extremes, so as a result, you become a lot more conscious about your health,” says Paris. “We started doing more yoga, pranayama breathing and meditation. All of that is key in freediving. It has pretty much been accepted by the whole freediving community that you need that flexibility, mental strength and breathing discipline from yoga.” Back on the surface near Fort Lauderdale, the divers climb aboard around 12:45 p.m., after a jam-packed morning of two sessions that began with some open-water training, followed by 10 dives, going as deep as 83 feet, or just over 25 meters. During their four hours on the water, the students swam past a number of blue runner fish, spotted a giant sailfish in the depths below and witnessed a rare surface appearance by a hammerhead shark. After four days of classes, pool training and open-water dives, Quirino—who achieved personal bests for breath hold and depth during the course—is tired but all smiles. “I’m goal-oriented,” he says, “and have a great sense of accomplishment saying I have my certification in intermediate freediving.” But for Quirino, it’s more than just that. “Whenever I go out fishing or out to the ocean, I call it church. That is my escape, where I am most happy. Getting the certification and being at my church, so to speak, I am extremely relaxed coming back on the boat and hearing the sounds of the waves. I’m always at peace being out in the ocean.”

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Down Wheref

Tarpon Roll An adventure on a poling skiff deep in the Everglades backcountry with one of the state’s most sought-after guides casts light on the biggest threats to Florida’s ecosystem, offering a glimpse at the worsening conditions but not without glimmers of hope that our fisheries can be saved. By BUCKY McMAHON

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SUMMER 2019

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PREVIOUS SPREAD: MAC STONE PHOTOGR APHY; THIS SPREAD: GARY GILLET T, DAN DIEZ, EVERGL ADES FOUNDATION

Nature

here is embattled, but the beautiful light abides, along with the stillness and timeless silence. Captain Benny Blanco has cut the motor of his Hell’s Bay poling skiff, and it drifts above its rippling reflection. We’ve just emerged out of a maze of mangrove islands, through which Captain Blanco unerringly steered the skiff, at optimum speed, looking like a Formula One driver with his fabric face shield pulled up to his sunglasses. Now we rest at the mouth of a caramel-colored creek, looking out across the many-miles-wide expanse of Whitewater Bay. About a hundred yards distant, at the mouth of a different creek, there’s a sudden flash of silver. We’re about five miles northwest of the Flamingo marina where we launched and now deep in the Everglades backcountry, where we’re hoping to cast for tarpon—and for hope itself. “We’ll just watch a while,” Blanco says, scanning the bay

with peregrine eyes. He’s thinking aloud about the barometric pressure, the wind speed and direction, the tidal push of the water—what it’s like right here, right now, for tarpon. Are conditions to their liking? Will they “lay up,” as anglers say, gobbling whatever floats along? Blanco describes the mood of tarpon laying up as “happy and relaxed.” The best guides form deep connections with their fisheries, he told me earlier, and with what nature is telling them. “There’s a high-pressure ridge over the Bay now,” Blanco says. “See how the clouds are piling up?” Indeed, there’s an immense cottony Rorschach in the sky and on the Bay. “The tarpon can feel the weight.” I don’t doubt it. The tarpon is a perfect creature, in its way, perfectly attuned. I once spent an unforgettable half-hour or so snorkeling amidst a school of feeding tarpon and witnessed the power, the speed, the eyes like horses’ eyes, the indignant undershot jaws blowing open wide as the tarpon repeatedly charged a mass of synchronized silversides. Now I see another flash, as another tarpon rolls—no one knows why they do this—sending a semaphore of light back at the sky, and I feel the old, old hunter’s glee. To sight-fish for tarpon, to see those massive living jewels, and skillfully present a lure, and see a big one take it? That’s the holy grail of sportfishing. Aficionados will spend small—and not so small—fortunes in the pursuit. Megalops atlanticus is a slow-maturing creature, but with its 80-year lifespan it can reach 8 feet in length and bulk up to 350 pounds—bigger than an NFL lineman. Tarpon breed in the deep, open ocean waters—anywhere from Virginia to Brazil. The tiny spawn make heroic journeys to shallow estuaries where they grow big and beautiful. And tough. With mouths like concrete, they are hard to hook, harder to land. Anglers speak of “jumping” a tarpon, having one on the line just long enough to see it burst from the surface like a Polaris missile. A

fight with a well-hooked tarpon can last hours, featuring many leaps up to 10 feet high. Mad as hell, it will shake its gill plates, making a sound like a rattlesnake. Tarpon are one of the most sought-after game fish on earth, and these days Blanco, as one of the most in-demand guides in the Everglades, earns a comfortable portion of Florida’s $8 billion annual recreational fishing business. The 43-year-old South Florida native, who’s been fishing the Glades since he was 5 and been a pro for more than two decades, is a frequent guide for deep-pocketed obsessives. He’ll be out on the water and get a call from Manhattan or

To see those massive living jewels, and skillfully present a lure, and see a big one take it? That’s the holy grail of sportfishing. Aspen. It’s Mr. X or Y, jonesing for a “silver king” adrenaline rush. And they’ll be here the next day if Blanco greenlights them. “They’re great people, but certifiable,” he laughs. The tarpon-mad. Blanco was the go-to guide for the great Peter Matthiessen, author of Killing Mister Watson. “He knew more about Florida history than anyone I’ve ever met,” Blanco says. Zen master Matthiessen and the guide weren’t always seeking tarpon nirvana. The Everglades National Park is the only place in the world where you can catch all of sportfishing’s Big Five: tarpon, bonefish, redfish, snook and permit. For Buck Leahy, an aerospace consultant and a once-orCounterclockwise twice-a-year client for the last 15 years, from top left: All of sportfishing’s Everglades fishing is about snook, Big Five can redfish, and sea trout—in that order, and be found in the waters of always catch and release. “Relentless” is Everglades how Leahy describes the guide. And National Park; tarpon can reach passionate: “I’ve never fished with 350 pounds over anyone who loves being out on the water a lifespan that can last 80 years; more,” he told me by phone. He recalled Benny Blanco casts light on one very windy day, so windy Blanco’s issues impacting scheduled clients canceled. Leahy and the health of Florida’s fisheries. his brother jumped on the chance.

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“He worked his ass off poling in that wind, and put us onto the biggest snook of our lives.” Another fond memory: Blanco poling the skiff into a creek, where they surprised a 10-foot bull shark that nearly swamped them. And cruising by a sunning saltwater crocodile, a toothy dinosaur as long as the skiff and as big around as a 50-gallon barrel. “I haven’t waded in the water down there since,” Leahy said. “I stay in the boat!” On this spring day, we’ve had a taste of that wildness—a baby bull shark, a little croc tailing away underwater—and already caught and released a few small snook and redfish by spin casting swimbait. These fish are the class of 2017, hurricane

Unquantifiable Magnetism “Horrible,” Blanco finally pronounces the conditions for tarpon. The wind is piling up the water in ways not to the tarpon’s liking. Apparently, they are creatures of strong preferences, like Melville’s Bartleby. “But hey, it’s sunny and breezy and no bugs.” We’ve gone back to spin casting at the creek banks, to the music of rod tips swishing. The hits come fast. A master puppeteer with the lure, Blanco catches at least three redfish or snook to my every one. “Well, I have been doing it all my life,” he says. While we toss our lures, he tells me about working with

babies, born when Irma’s record rainfall gave the glades a much needed freshwater bath and every living thing drank in a big gulp of life. Leap-frogging from fishing spot to fishing spot, we’ve penetrated deep enough into the backcountry to feel a psychic twinge of the terror and awe of the old Everglades, the unfathomable, uncrossable swamp that claimed nearly half the state of Florida and bogged every wheel of progress. The swamp was a hunter-gatherer’s paradise (with mosquitos!) then a naturalist’s dream, with bird traffic like I-95 and gator holes overflowing with everything that squirms. And water, sweet water, the pioneers said, flowing south at a dawdling pace, fresh and pure.

Project Healing Waters, taking double-amputees into the back country and fishing with clients on suicide watch. “They’ve all been helped,” he says. “It’s not about the fish. There’s a magnetism in this place, something unquantifiable. Something that we desperately need to hold onto.” Lately, he’s been juggling his high-paying clients with hosting a TV show, Florida Sportsman Watermen, which began airing this spring on World Fishing Network, the Sportsman Channel and Fox Sports Sun. Even though it comes at the cost of family time with his wife and three daughters, it’s a platform he can’t give up because of the voice it grants him. “It’s irresponsible for anyone who makes a living on the water not to try to make

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CAPTAIN BENNY BL ANCO, GARY GILLET

a difference,” he tells me. Along with delivering the show’s strong conservation message, he’s expending a lot of time and energy on political activism with a coalition of guides, Captains for Clean Water. The group has been making itself heard online and in Tallahassee since the super-red tides of 2016–2018, bolstered by excess nutrients flowing from Lake Okeechobee, decimated fish stock on both coasts of South Florida. “Guides are the eyes and ears on the spot. We have to be the voice,” he says. So he tells me again: Sure, it’s still beautiful here. People might think the fishing is great, if they weren’t here in the glory

the swamp was the completion in the 1930s of a system of levees, later named the Herbert Hoover Dike, which corralled the vast freshwater supply of mighty Lake Okeechobee. Instead of sloshing over the banks and meandering south, excess water began to be shunted west to the Caloosahatchee River and east to the St. Lucie via man-made canals, or parceled out for irrigation. With that garrote, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers cut off entirely the sheet flow of fresh water to the south, and the River of Grass ceased to exist. Eighteen-hundred miles of canals and dams later, all the dreams of the rich and powerful and clever men who saw money to be made once the water was

days. But a guide knows when his fishery is dying. Blanco lives in a state of emergency. He hears the sirens all the time. The park needs more fresh water, desperately. This is serious as a heart attack. “The Everglades is in cardiac arrest!” Blanco says.

tamed have come to pass: cattle grazing to the north of Lake O, sugar plantations to the south, a bounty of fruit and vegetables with a year-round growing season and a real-estate boom that hasn’t stopped reverberating yet. But protean nature always scoffs at mankind’s puny bonds, and imposes, in both blatant and mysterious ways, limits on our growth. The inevitable waste products of agriculture and municipal areas have turned Lake Okeechobee into a cauldron of chemicals and microbes. The nutrient and sediment-laden brew sent west and east via canal-to-coastal estuaries acts like a steroid for blue-green algae (the highly visible green glop) and fuels extensive and long-lasting red tide events. The red

Nature’s Squeeze Play In her classic The Everglades: River of Grass, Marjorie Stoneman Douglas sums up Central and South Florida’s water management as “one chaotic gesture of greed and ignorance and folly.” That gesture is now over a century old and still ongoing. But the first real “success” in the campaign to drain

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From left:

The Everglades mangroves provide a fish-breeding estuary; Captain Blanco releasing a fresh catch; Hell’s Bay Boatworks owner Chris Peterson cooking breakfast on a Harney River Chickee; Captains for Clean Water Co-founder Chris Wittman, Blanco and Peterson camping on an isolated beach

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of Engineers releases that water to the east and to the west, which happens several times a year, the Glades is deprived of the freshwater source it desperately needs. Before the water of Lake O was confined, before it was polluted, it was a vital link in the Everglades ecosystem. Now the water here isn’t as clear as it was in Blanco’s youth, and it’s saltier. Cast by cast, I’ve been receiving a tutorial. In the River of Grass, that grass was

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sawgrass. Now saltwater intrusion is collapsing the sawgrass marshes of the Everglades. Invasive species? Yeah, they’re a problem. Blanco will kill a python if he sees one. But that’s a cut on the hand. It’s the water, the lack of fresh water. That’s the heart attack. Nature’s plumbing scheme, following the whims of meteorology and physics, creating the wonders of the unblemished peninsula, was for the fresh water to flow all the way from what is now Orlando to the Florida Keys. Fresh mingled with salt in the vast shallow pool between the Glades and the Keys. Mostly cut off from the Gulf by mud banks and mangroves, the merging waters became Florida Bay, Florida’s largest estuary and a vital breeding ground for recreational and commercial fisheries. These days Florida Bay receives only a quarter of that historic fresh water flow. The brief influx from Hurricane Irma highlighted the resilience of the Bay and of the national park as a whole, occasioning the births of the little redfish we’re catching today, as well as record numbers of nesting wading birds. But the dry season of 2015 had already killed 40,000 acres of seagrass, about 10 percent of the seagrass in the Bay. As more water was lost to evaporation than could be replenished, the salinity in parts of Florida Bay spiked to twice that of normal seawater. As the hypersalinity killed seagrass and oysters, the die-offs fueled algal blooms—another cascading disaster. And as the creeping seawater, unseen, penetrates the Floridan Aquifer, it poses a threat to the drinking water of 8 million South Floridians. Pollution to the east, pollution to the west and salt from the south—nature’s squeeze play. Heart attack? That sounds about right. Headwaters and Heads of State Dr. Stephen Davis, wetland ecologist for the Everglades Foundation, prefers a different metaphor. “It’s like you’re driving on a country road at night and you’re about to run out of gas. You’ve been at the wheel for hours, running on fumes. And then, there, up ahead, you see a light. A gas station! We have hope,” he told me in a phone interview. And a plan that might work. After all, environmental science has come a long way since the days when Governor Napoleon Bonaparte Broward (1905 to 1909) ran on the stance that Florida should “drain that abominable pestilence-ridden

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MAC STONE PHOTOGR APHY

tide super-bloom of 2017 carried over to what activists are calling “Toxic 18.” Instead of the limited fish-kill of a normal, naturally occurring red tide, this one was killing everything from manatees to sea turtles, dolphins and crabs. The toxins were in the air as well, leading to public health concerns. Drug stores sold out of surgical masks, pictures of green glop and belly-up fish flooded the internet and tourists fled with their dollars. Fishing guides were phoning out-of-state clients, telling them, “Don’t come.” By the end of the summer of 2018, the red tide had killed some 2,000 tons of marine life and cost businesses more than $8 million. Here in the Everglades backcountry, Benny Blanco and I seem far removed from that ongoing catastrophe. We’re far from the cattle ranches, farms, fruit groves and septic tanks that pollute Lake O. But every time the Army Corps

FISH I NG AN D MORE I N TH E W ESTE RN E V E RG LADES

DIY Ten Thousand Islands

Plan your own adventure to Everglades City (stone crab capital of the world), the Ten Thousand Islands and Everglades National Park when temperatures and mosquitoes cool down in fall and winter GETTING THERE: Drive past panther crossings along the fabled Tamiami Trail or fly your own aircraft into Everglades Airport, a small landing strip perfect for Cessnas or helicopters. WHERE TO STAY: The iconic Rod and Gun Club is more than 100 years old and has 17 AC-equipped rooms, divided among three buildings. Pitch a tent on a secluded beach or roll out a sleeping bag on a chickee—wooden platform structures perched over the water. A permit (and knowlege of the area) is required for backcountry camping in the Everglades. WHAT TO EAT: Enjoy fresh-off-the-boat stone crab and seafood at Triad Seafood Market & Cafe.

WHAT TO DO:

E V E R G L A D E S N AT I O N A L PA R K :

Explore by kayaks or bikes, rented from local vendors. Find referrals for fishing guides, ecotours, airboat rides and more through the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.

C LYD E B U TC H E R ’ S B I G C YP R E S S G A L L E R Y:

Take an Everglades swamp tour or see the environmental works of fine art photographer Clyde Butcher at his gallery, about a 30-minute drive from Everglades City on the Tamiami Trail.

M U S E U M O F T H E E V E R G L A D E S:

Discover 2,000 years of history, as well as stories of the 1920s development by Barron Collier.

H I STO R I C S M A L L W O O D STO R E :

Find backcountry essentials and souvenirs inspired by local lore. paradisecoast.com; myfwc.com

swamp.” When President Truman dedicated the 1,509,000acre Everglades National Park in 1947, there were plenty of environmentalists angry at the relatively stingy apportioning, but no one fully grasped the ecological issues. The Park was seen as a garden enshrined, not as a limb crudely amputated. But by the 1980s, gangrene had clearly set in. As Michael Grunwald recounts in The Swamp, Governor Bob Graham read about the issue in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue in a scathing article decrying South Florida’s disintegrating water quality and the coral and fish dying from Pennecamp State Park to Palm Beach. Alarmed and soon scientifically informed, Graham created Save Our Everglades, intending to restore the natural flow from Okeechobee to the Everglades by the year 2000. Instead, that was the year the U.S. Congress passed— amidst more outrage, alarm and bipartisan enthusiasm—the

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Comprehensive Everglades Restoration Plan (or CERP). It’s an effort simple enough for a hashtag, #senditsouth, and multifarious enough to be called “the world’s largest, most complex, eco-oriented jigsaw puzzle.” To simplify a file cabinet as big as Florida’s phallic Capitol building, CERP calls for the diversion of the toxic west and east discharges from Lake Okeechobee south into a massive reservoir to be built in the Everglades Agricultural Area. “Think of reservoirs like batteries, storing the energy,” Davis told me. From there, the water can be transferred in controlled releases to artificial wetlands, filled with filtering plants (“like surge protectors”), and then sent on its purified way to the thirsty Everglades National Park—once the Tamiami Trail is raised in strategic places. It’s going to cost a lot. “It’s coming. Soon. And a lot more than you would ever believe,” President Trump said about

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Above from left:

Hell’s Bay fishing guide Steven Winkel grabbing a tarpon caught in Everglades National Park; Blanco running through Whitewater Bay in a Hell’s Bay Professional skiff

funding for Everglades restoration during a recent visit to Lake O. The cost was originally estimated at $7.8 billion, but “more than you would ever believe” is probably closer to the truth. And it will take “ages”—read: 30 to 50 years. The state will have to buy 60,000 acres of land in the Everglades Agricultural Area, some of it from reluctant sellers (Big Sugar). In an early snafu in December 2018, the South Florida Water Management District granted the sugar industry an extension on a lease of land that should’ve been released already for

It crosses my mind that if Blanco took off, I would be fatally screwed. digging reservoirs. “It’s like you pull into the gas station, but it’s closed. But you see another one down the road,” Davis chuckled, ruefully. “History may repeat itself.” He meant, nothing much will happen except a lot of lawyering. But the good news is that the bad news is so bad it’s caught the attention of politicians. As Davis pointed out, Governor DeSantis, who’s making all the right noises, sees the ties between the economy, the water supply and tourism. Such

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is the visual power of an algal bloom, which has made Florida waters a national concern. Even Sen. Scott has his green hat on. U.S. Rep. Donna Shalala called Everglades restoration “life or death for the people of Florida.” As Mark Twain said, “Water flows uphill towards money.” If enough people agree it will cost more to do nothing, then maybe money will attract the water back south. An Angler’s Prayer Today, fishing with Benny Blanco, and listening to his heartbreak, every cast has been a prayer for connection. Not that I don’t take hope from Blanco. He’s a strong, vocal, committed wise-use conservationist, and he has hope (he has children, so he has to). “I fully believe we can fix this,” he tells me, and he knows more than I do, and feels the anger and political momentum of his watermen colleagues, a coalition 30,000 strong and growing. But I’ve only recently come off of six hours on the Florida Turnpike—the River of Cars. There, evolution in its blind indifference carries on with survival of the most profitable. Blanco hooks a ladyfish, a silver ribbon with pterodactyl jaws—a trash fish but a beauty. As he’s letting it go, I feel a particularly fierce strike on my lure. “I’ve got a big one!” I say, which gets a laugh from Blanco. He can tell from the bend in my pole exactly what I’ve hooked: another juvie. For a big man,

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GARY GILLET T, MAC STONE PHOTOGR APHY

he has a surprisingly high-pitched giggle, which is a pleasure to elicit. My fish is indeed another juvie redfish, but a cool one, with a dozen vivid black spots instead of the usual one on each side near the tail. Blanco snaps a picture with his phone, and I toss it back. The clouds have turned dark as the day wanes. We’ve seen no more rolling tarpon. The heavier tackle has stayed in its rack. But I wasn’t really after the holy grail of sports fishing. I just wanted a reminder of my Florida boyhood days, when I coveted all the latest gear and stalked the bluegill and catfish and whiting with the patience of a heron, and every fishing trip was like an extra Christmas. And those pleasures, the guide delivered. We have a long boat trip back, and likely a wet one, but before I settle back and hold onto my cap, I ask if we can stop by an old Calusa Indian shell mound Blanco mentioned to me earlier. Finding it takes an impressive piece of guiding because there’s hardly anything left. The Calusa were killed off by men and diseases sometime around the 18th century. Unlike the lofty mounds to the west in the Ten Thousand Islands area, this one is a faint bleached crescent on a mangrove island barely a foot above the water. Since there’s nothing like it anywhere nearby, Blanco speculates that the Calusa, the original human inhabitants of the Glades, must’ve rafted the shells out here to

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build a lookout, to prepare to greet the Spanish with spears and arrows. Blanco poles to the jungly shore and I step gingerly off the skiff, crunching on shells into the shaded interior. There’s no trash, there are no footprints (well, mine, behind me). Perfect stillness, perfect silence. Perhaps I’m the first person to bother pacing these worn ramparts since the days of the Calusa. It crosses my mind that if Blanco took off, I would be fatally screwed. That’s a gift of the wild, knowledge of the tenuousness of everything. That and a feeling of being truly insignificant, but in a blessed way, as a tiny part of something ineffably powerful and fine beyond our words. As I’m about to step back onto the skiff, I look down through the tannin-stained water at the shoreline and see the weirdest thing. It’s a big horseshoe crab shell, a couple of feet underwater, impaled on a jagged mangrove root. I’m still trying to figure out how it got into that predicament. These crabs’ shells are not easily penetrated. Rogue wave or rogue wake? I reach down to try to wrench it loose and am met with the uncanny scuttling of legs. The thing is alive! It doesn’t come off easily, but I manage to free the creature without further cracking the shell. I let it loose and it drifts, threatening to go belly-up. But when I reach farther down and settle it onto the bottom, right-side up, it takes off at top horseshoe crab speed, along its merry prehistoric way.

Above:

Environmentalists initially feared Governor DeSantis, but many now say he’s made promising moves to protect the Everglades; Captains for Clean Water is a nonprofit organization, started by fishing guides, dedicated to protecting Florida’s waterways and estuaries.

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SUMMER 2016

Big Cats brink Back from the

Florida panthers clawed their way out of near extinction(with a little help from conservationists), only to face their biggest threat yet: suburban sprawl. By CRAIG PITTMAN

But only one critter bears the distinction as our “official” state animal: the Florida panther. The state’s schoolchildren selected it in a 1981 vote over the alligator, the manatee, the Key deer and a few others that got write-in ballots, such as the mosquito. Panthers are so popular among Floridians they’ve become the mascot for dozens of schools, the namesake of the Miami pro hockey team and the decoration on tens of thousands of specialty license plates, which are sold to fund panther research. It’s easy to see why panthers are so exalted. The big cats are sleek and tawny, muscular predators who prowl the night in deep silence. The males weigh 100 to 180 pounds, the

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females 70 to 100, and they generally measure 6 to 7 feet long from nose to tail. A male can range for 200 square miles— an area about five times the size of Walt Disney World— while a female can range about 75 square miles. The Florida panther’s profile is more patrician than that of most felines, with a high brow and a classic Roman nose, the kind you’d expect to find on a king. Yet it wasn’t so long ago when a lot of smart people thought there were no panthers left in Florida. They were very nearly right. Panthers still exist in Florida’s wilder places in large part due to the work of two people—a veteran Texas hunter and a passionate veterinarian from the Pacific Northwest. Few Floridians have ever heard their names. Cat Status and Stats Florida’s early settlers had no love for panthers, which they called “lions,” “catamounts” and “cougars.” They killed every one they saw, viewing them as a threat to their families and their livestock. In 1874, a writer noted that the creature was “spoken of with dread by the crackers.” In 1887, the Florida legislature put a $5 bounty on panthers statewide—the equivalent of $125 today. Meanwhile, as people came pouring into Florida (in a steady stream that continues to this day), they began wiping out the places where panthers lived and the things they ate, such as deer. Decades of lost habitat, dwindling prey and human depredation took a heavy toll. In 1935, a writer for the Saturday Evening Post went on a panther hunt in the Big Cypress Swamp in Collier County. In six weeks of hunting, his party found and killed just eight panthers, fewer than they had expected. He wrote that he picked that location because Big Cypress and the Everglades “are the last strongholds of the panther in the eastern United States.” By 1958, the Florida legislature, alarmed that the cats might disappear, had banned panther hunting. When the first federal endangered species list came out in 1967, Florida panthers were on it. Some Florida officials regarded that as a misnomer; they were sure the cats were already extinct. An environmental group, the World Wildlife Fund, wasn’t convinced. In 1972, they hired a somewhat unlikely expert to determine the truth.

Opposite:

Roy McBride brought specially trained Walker fox-hunting hounds to South Florida and turned them loose to find panthers.

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PHOTOGR APH BY (PREVIOUS PAGE) ISTOCK; (OPPOSITE PAGE) TIM DONOVAN FOR FWC

FLorida has a lot of state symbols. To name a few: a state flower, the orange blossom; a state butterfly, the zebra longwing; a state shell,the horse conch; and even a state soil, Myakka fine sand. Of course Florida has an official bird—no, not the construction crane, it’s the mockingbird—as well as a state reptile, the American alligator.

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S e a r ch in g fo r Sig n s As he began his investigation in 1972, McBride talked to one state biologist who said that “he

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never had seen any tracks or any indications there were any [panthers] left. So there really was not any kind of scientific information about if they still existed, where they were or how many were left.” The lanky Texan brought his pack of dogs— specially trained Walker fox-hunting hounds— to South Florida and turned them loose. They sniffed around for four to six weeks, starting

being far from civilization, they were just down the road from rampant suburban sprawl. “I thought of Florida as big cities, lots of people,” McBride told me. “I was getting used to the idea that probably there weren’t any [panthers].” He’d hunted for them in other states east of the Mississippi River—Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama—but hadn’t found any. Yet this time, in this most unlikely place, the

Above: Panther tracker Roy McBride; Opposite: McBride and his dog

near the Lykes Ranch in Highlands County and gradually working their way south to the Big Cypress Swamp between Naples and the Everglades. The terrain was as different as could be from what McBride and his dogs were used to. Instead of mountains, the land was as flat as a billiard table. Instead of crossing desert, they were splashing through swamps. Instead of

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big cats were there. “I found evidence of some panthers,” McBride recalled years later. “Not many, but a few.” He didn’t actually see one of the felines, mind you, but his dogs uncovered panther tracks, some scat full of bones and scrape marks that the cats typically leave behind with their huge rear paws after they urinate. A year later, McBride was hired to go back and

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PHOTOGR APH BY (THIS PAGE AND OPPOSTIE) CONNIE BR ANSILVER

H ir in g a H e ro Roy McBride was born in 1936 in the mountains of West Texas. The place was so rural that when he talked about driving into town, he meant going 100 miles to the small community of Alpine, passing only one other house along the way. By the 1950s, McBride had begun working for local sheep ranchers. His specialty would have made Florida’s settlers happy: He was an expert at tracking and killing the mountain lions that preyed on the sheep. One writer said that McBride was so good that he “had more to do with bringing the mountain lion to the verge of extinction in Texas than any other single person.” The first time I met McBride was at a 2007 panther conference in St. Petersburg. I did a long interview with him early on and have had a couple follow-up conversations with him. He looked like he was dreamed up by a Hollywood casting director: tall and lanky, with a chiseled chin, eyes the color of washed denim, a lock of hair he has to keep pushing back from his forehead, only to have it fall back down again. McBride tends to wear his battered white Stetson everywhere, even indoors. When he talks, he’s terse and to the point, his tenor voice sounds a bit raspy, with a strong Western twang—“things” becomes “thangs.” He so dislikes talking about himself that one biologist claims he spent two years working with McBride before finding out he had a master’s degree in biology. In addition to mountain lions, McBride took on other predators—wolves, for instance. His account of spending nearly a year in Mexico tracking an elusive wolf named Las Margaritas became the basis for Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Crossing. But after a while, McBride once told me, he lost his sympathy for the sheep. He began to feel more of a kinship with the predators—particularly the mountain lions. Then came the call from the World Wildlife Fund: Would he travel to Florida and look for panthers, not to kill them, but to prove that they still existed?

look again. This time, near Fisheating Creek, which flows southwest of Lake Okeechobee, his dogs treed a spindly female panther, its hide full of ticks. He also found more signs of panthers than he’d found the year before. “I was amazed to find them,” McBride said. “I got down here in this thickly settled area, and I was really surprised there were any left.” McBride’s success led him to teach his

McBride’s hounds would tree an animal, one of the state biologists would shoot the panther with a tranquilizer dart and it would fall into a net. Once it was safely on the ground they could examine it closely, then strap a radio transmitter around its neck, allowing the biologists to track the panther’s signals. Then tragedy struck—an accident that became a turning point for saving the species.

methods to state biologists, who wanted to track down more Florida panthers, put radio collars on them, follow them around and learn their ways. McBride was hired to help, and eventually his two sons and his grandson joined him. The terrain made the work extraordinarily difficult. “Back in those days we did not have swamp buggies,” McBride recalled later. “We did not have ATVs. We just walked.” When

Pr otecting Panthers f r om Ourselves

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The first leader of the state panther-capture team was a soft-spoken biologist from Tennessee named Chris Belden. In 1981, when they started work, he was the one who climbed the tree to bring down the first tranquilized panther. He wound up falling out of the tree along with the panther, a 120-pound male.

Somehow both survived unscathed. Two years later, things wouldn’t go so well— for the panther or for Belden. On January 17, 1983, McBride’s dogs treed a panther, one the team had collared before and designated as Florida Panther 3 (FP3 for short). It was a female, and not particularly robust. One of the team members raised the tranquilizer gun and fired a dart at the cat. FP3 was dead by the time it hit the ground. One team member, a biologist named Debra Jansen, tried to revive it with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, to no avail. Belden picked up the 70-pound panther and carried it out of the swamp slung over his shoulders, his heart heavy with grief and guilt. “At that point it felt like I was carrying the weight of the whole subspecies on my shoulders,” he said later. “If the panther went extinct, it would be my fault.” Although the death was an accident—an expert later said the panther had gotten too much of a tranquilizer dose too quickly—an uproar ensued. Everglades doyenne Marjory Stoneman Douglas led the pack of protestors calling for an end to collaring panthers. Leave the poor cats alone, they said, and let them go extinct in peace! Instead of ending the program, Belden’s superiors at the state game commission made two changes. First, they replaced Belden as the capture team leader, making him the scapegoat for what happened to FP3. (However, he would continue to do valuable panther research for the state and later the federal government for another three decades). Then they hired a veterinarian to accompany the capture team, to make sure nothing like this happened again. (It has not.) “The edict that was given to me as the vet for the team was ‘Don’t hurt anybody!’” that first veterinarian, Melody Roelke, told me during our first interview in 2008. We’ve talked several times about panthers since then.

Cr ossbr e e d i ng Cats Roelke grew up on a farm in Oregon. When Florida game officials hired her, she’d been working for three years in her home state for a drive-through animal attraction called Wildlife Safari, where she’d documented serious medical problems with the cheetahs. She had curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders, intense

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Opposite:

An estimated 100 to 180 adult panthers now roam South Florida.

brown eyes and an inability to sit still. One biologist called her “the Turbo-Vet.” Another nicknamed her “Sparky,” but that was for the time she accidentally sat on some electrical wiring for a spotlight and got shocked. What Roelke found more shocking than that spark to her posterior was the condition of the panthers the team was rounding up, rather than the species’ number. “Right away it became extremely apparent that the Florida panther was in trouble,” she said. “They had maybe a quarter of the diversity of other panthers. Their sperm quality was the worst seen in any male I had ever examined. It just looked absolutely horrific.” Roelke began raising questions about panther genetics. With so few Florida panthers left in the wild—a mere 20 to 30—the cats had gotten caught in an inbreeding loop, producing kittens with genetic defects: Their hearts had holes, or the males’ testicles failed to descend. They were sliding toward oblivion. Initially, the state tried a captivebreeding program, but it ran into trouble. Because the kittens they captured for breeding had serious genetic problems, the program would just pass the bad genes along to a new generation. At that point, Roelke said, “We were down to the abso-

Ri g h t away i t b ec am e extremely ap pare n t t h at the Flori da pan th e r wa s i n troub le . . .The s p e r m q uali t y wa s th e wor s t seen i n an y male i h ad e ver exami n ed. i t lo oke d abs olutely h or r if ic . —Melody Roelke lute last straw, the last possibility of survival.” In desperation, state and federal officials approved a risky plan. They dispatched McBride to Texas to bring back female mountain lions, whose genetic makeup was close enough to that of the Florida panthers for them to pass as cousins. Such a crossbreeding experiment had never been tried before, and no one knew whether it would work. McBride brought eight female mountain lions to South

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Above:

Roelke and her team preparing to release a panther in 1987 Opposite:

McBride in Big Cypress Swamp in 2009

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Florida and turned them loose. As the Texas felines bred with male panthers, they produced kittens that were free of genetic defects. Some biologists had feared the genes of the Texas cats would “swamp” those of the Florida panthers, but that didn’t happen. In fact, the experiment did more than just banish the defects: Because the kittens now had a better chance of surviving into adulthood, the experiment spurred a panther population boom. “There’s cats all over hell and gone out there now,” Roelke joked. The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (successor to the old game commission) estimates there are now between 100 and 180 adult panthers roaming around. But that has created a new problem, because panthers need a lot of room to roam.

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PHOTOGR APH BY (PREVIOUS PAGE) ISTOCK; (THIS PAGE) FLORIDA FISH AND WILDLIFE COMMISSION; (OPPOSITE PAGE) TIM DONOVAN FOR FWC

Panthers’ Pl i g ht In the 23 years since McBride’s Texas cats were tracked, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has not blocked a single Florida development that would alter the panther habitat. Four former agency employees admitted that every time they resisted such development, “we were told that, politically, it would be a disaster.” They said their superiors used blatantly phony science to allow people to build subdivisions, strip malls, even a couple of universities, right in the middle of land the panthers needed to dwell in—more than 100 projects, covering more than 40,000 acres. When one federal biologist filed a whistleblower suit against his agency in 2004, he was fired. “The office is already known for drive-through permitting,” he wrote. Ultimately his bosses had to admit he was right and reinstate him, but he was assigned to an office far from Florida. Now there are more panthers than there have been in decades, but squeezed into a smaller space than before. They’re showing up in people’s yards, peering through their sliding glass doors, gobbling up their backyard chickens. Ranchers have complained about losing calves to panthers, and several panthers have been shot, some fatally. The solution to this problem would be to find the expanding population some new habitat, either in Florida or in some other state. So far, though, states with potential panther habitats—places where pumas once lived, for instance—say they don’t want any new predators. That leaves Florida. There are places in Central and Northern Florida that could accommodate panthers. This has been demonstrated by male panthers who have swum across the Caloosahatchee River—the northern boundary of current panther habitat—and ranged far and wide across the state, one making it as far as Georgia. Creating a new panther colony, though, would require female panthers too. Although there’s been talk of transplanting a few females north of the Caloosahatchee, federal officials have repeatedly said that they want the females to make that move on their own. They’d prefer it to be a natural occurrence, not something facilitated by humans. However, since the tracking of Florida panthers began, not a single female has crossed the river to set up house elsewhere. The current habitat is limiting the panthers’ future, like a prison cell where the walls are slowly closing in. As McBride once wrote, “The future of the panther depends on whether the agencies and the public want them badly enough to preserve wild Florida and all that goes with it. ... Just as beavers cut down big trees with little bites, so goes what’s left of Florida’s wildness.” The panthers can’t save themselves. They need help from humans—their greatest enemy and their only hope.

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FA L L 2 0 1 9

Riding f Lightning By JAMIE RICH // Photography by ROBERT SEBREE

stand-up Comic Bert Kreischer is a proud “florida man,” blowing up the comedy scene on his body shots tour.

omedian and Tampa native Bert Kreischer got his start serendipitously in 1997 when a reporter from Rolling Stone arrived on Florida State University’s campus to write a story about the No. 1 party school in America. What the writer found was a crude and endearing force majeure, holding court in every bar in Tallahassee, skipping class, drinking beers like water and inciting laughter up and down sorority row. The resulting article would name Bert the top partier in America and ignite a 20-year career in entertainment including multiple Travel Channel hosting gigs, a cooking show, a popular podcast, two Netflix comedy specials and, oh yeah, a world tour selling out theaters in Sydney, London, Los Angeles and everywhere in between. Also known as the Machine (for a bit about a class trip he took to Russia—check out the now-viral clip), Bert brings his Body Shots world tour through the Sunshine State this fall. Flamingo Editor in Chief Jamie Rich caught up with Bert to find out what has happened since that notorious Rolling Stone article struck his career like a Florida flash of lightning.

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You’re missing the point.” Hopefully, one of my daughters goes to Florida State, and then it’ll be a reason for me to go back to the school. I’ll get the chairman’s box. Waste a ton of money.

Hopefully, one of my daughters goes to Florida State, and then it’ll be a reason for me to go back to the school. I’ll get the chairman’s box. Waste a ton of money.

CRU

EL,

UGS

This page from top: Kreischer

is currently on his Body Shots world tour; Kreischer with his dad and two sisters; the article that started it all

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One of your first stand-up shows was at Potbelly’s Bar? BK: I’m looking at that picture right now, oddly enough. My girlfriend at the time, Kristen, wrote “Bert 4/97 First Stand-up Routine Tallahassee.” And it’s a picture of me at Potbelly’s. [That night] I ran into one of the guys I was doing that show with, Kristian Harloff. I got a beer when I got there, and he stops me and says, “Hey man. I know you’re doing this for your first time, so I’ll give you just a little bit of insight.” And he goes, “I wouldn’t drink that beer because if you drink it, you’re going to always need to drink a beer before you go onstage. You should do it sober.” It’s the greatest advice I ever got in my career. I’m always sober onstage. That’s what people are buying the tickets for.

Before I reached out, I asked my sorority sisters at Florida State for stories, and they reminded me how you used to rearrange our furniture and serenade us in the dining room with your shirt off—some things haven’t changed. BK: I have such a connection to that Tri Delt house. I literally was just telling my daughters. They were talking about sorority houses. I said, “You know what’s so funny? I was in a relationship, and I got cheated on. And one of my best friends was a Tri Delt, Erica Youngblood.” I said, “I went to that Tri Delt house every single day. I would eat lunch there, I would hang out in the annex. Literally, that was my safe space for an entire semester.” And [my daughters] go, “You’re like a sorority girl?” And I go, “No, guys.

living in LA, How often are you back in Florida? BK: I’m in Florida once a year for like 10 days. My parents own a beach house in Clearwater Beach. I love running at sunset on the beach. It’s one of my favorite things in the world. I’ve been out of Florida for so long that I forget certain things that are just Florida. One time, I went running in the middle of the afternoon, and I ran one direction down to the end of Caladesi Island, turned around and ran back. I forgot, in the middle of every afternoon in Florida, there’s a fucking thunderstorm, and I’m like, “Oh, shit. Where’s my Florida senses, my Spidey senses?” What other favorite Florida things do you love? BK: I love those Publix sandwiches they have that are just massive. In Clearwater Beach there’s a Clearwater paddleboard company. I buy something new every single day. I’m like, oh, you can’t get flip-flops like this in LA. The hats here are better than in LA. I love cigars. Growing up in Tampa, everyone had cafe

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con leche and a cigar in the morning. And so I feel I earned the right to smoke cigars. At sunset, go for a jog, come home, glass of wine, cigar, eat grouper. You know the place you can find real grouper because they just caught it that day, none of that store-bought shit, right on the docks. I’m telling you, man, they may say it as a slur, but I will always be a Florida man. That’s awesome. Are there any Florida stories you haven’t told on stage? BK: I’ve always wanted to tell that story of watching that kid get struck by lightning at Publix. you saw a kid get struck by lightning? BK: Oh my God. It was a thunderstorm. This was the one Publix by us, and me and my dad were walking in and there was a kid going out to collect shopping carts. My dad literally looks at me, and he’s like, “Buddy, that’s called natural selection.” And the kid gets all the shopping carts. We’d literally just walked into the Publix, right by that green scale, right? Then whack! Shopping carts are scattered like cockroaches. The kid’s laying on the ground smoldering. I remember some lady going, “We should go get him,” and some other lady’s like, “Don’t go out there. There’s lightning out there,” like it’s a shark, right? What happened to him? BK: So, all of a sudden, the kid stands up, starts walking in and the old ladies are like, “Oh, dear.” He starts walking up. The two glass doors open almost like at a Broadway show. He looks at the whole room. This is 1982. He says, “What happened?” Like, “What happened, you’re allergic to donuts? What do you think happened? Your jewelry melted into you ... your nametag. You got struck by lightning, bro.” And this was at the time when Jim and Tammy Baker were really big. And in Tampa, everyone was saved. Everyone kept going, “Did you see the [heavenly] lights?” And my dad’s like, “Come on, buddy.” We were going to go shopping. And I go, “Hold on one second.” Ten years old, new to the neighborhood in downtown Lutz, North Tampa, I lean into this circle looking at this kid. They’re praying on him. And I lean in and go, “Do you think you

The day Jimmy Buffett gets on stage and says, “Anyone who voted for Hillary get out of this room!”— that’s the day I stop going to Jimmy Buffett concerts.

have any superhuman powers?” My dad’s like, “Shut the fuck up. Why would you even bring that up? Come on. Let’s go.” But, yeah, I’ve got to figure that story out on stage.

LUCKY STRIKE You’re selling out shows around the world. How have you built a global fan base? BK: You know, it’s so funny. I think it was The Machine story going viral, the Netflix special [Secret Time] coupled with the podcast and just always being in everyone’s ear. When you’re an unknown comic, you literally are knocking on everyone’s digital door every day going, “Check out my content. Come see me do stand-up.” And so when the Netflix special came out, that was a game changer. So how did you land the Netflix special? BK: I would say I’m the luckiest man in the world. Like going from not studying in school to getting discovered by Rolling Stone, to getting a career in comedy, getting discovered by Will Smith—I mean all these weird things that have happened to me. I was doing stand-up, wasn’t really on the radar of Netflix. A guy named Robbie Praw is the head of Netflix stand-up comedy. He was coming through customs in Canada, and the guy at customs said to him, “What’s your business here?” He said, “I work for Netflix.” The guy goes, “What are you doing for Netflix?” He goes, “I’m shooting a comedy special.” Then the guy at customs said, “You got to do a special with the Machine.” So [soon after] Robbie Praw is on a flight from DC to LA shooting a Dave Chappelle special. But I happen to be at the DC Improv that week. Robbie Praw sat caddy-corner to me on the flight. I said hi to him when we landed, and he was like, “You know what? I’ve run into this guy twice. I should check out his comedy.” He watched The Machine and was like, “All right. Let’s do a special.” So it is sliding doors. It’s just luck. How did the special change your career’s trajectory? BK: I was in New York. It dropped at midnight, and I was walking down the street, and I just noticed people were looking at

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me. I was like, “Holy shit. It seems like—is my fly down?” I was on the front page of Netflix and I heard people going, “Hey, I’m going to watch your special tonight.” And I was like, “Oh, cool.” And then it was really bizarre, and then friends were texting me, “Dude, you’re on Netflix.” So then we announced my first theater tour ever. I put the theater tour on sale. I don’t expect any change in my business. Tickets go on sale at 10 o’clock, and my wife came in, and she’s like, “Boston sold out like in 15 minutes. They want to add a show.” And so then, I get out of the shower and get in bed and my agent calls me. He’s like, “We’re adding like 7 shows today. We’re thinking about adding another 15.” This spread:

Kreischer as a child at home in Tampa; the cover art for Kreischer’s book, Life of the Party; Kreischer singing the National Anthem at a Braves game in Altanta

You tap into the nostalgia of college days with stories you still tell, and people really connect with that. BK: I think [my college friends] so informed who I am as a person. I found out I was funny at Florida State. That’s when I decided I was going to do comedy. I remember, going back to Atlanta, this place called the Funny Bar. And I was trying to be edgy or whatever. And I remember my buddy who was there going like, “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with that new joke you’re doing. You should just go back to Bert.”

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[people on] both sides of that issue are going to equally cringe. Not to say I’m pandering to both sides of the audience, because there’s nothing wrong as a comic with just being funny. People are going through real shit—just be funny. If you voted for Trump and you go to my show, I think you should laugh. If you voted for Hillary and come to my show, I think you should laugh. If you like Bernie, I think you should laugh. The day Jimmy Buffett gets on stage and says, “Anyone who voted for Hillary get out of this room!”— that’s the day I stop going to Jimmy Buffett concerts.

You’re so open and honest about your wild days. And now you have teenage daughters. Do you ever hesitate about what you put out there as a dad? BK: Yeah, Yeah, yeah, yeah. I have this sex bit with my wife. And I’m like, “Oh, my daughters are going to see all of this.” And so I definitely have reservations at times, but for the most part, everything’s on the table. If it’s funny, I believe that other people have also gone through it, and they connect with it. There’s one instance—I’ll just say it’s about puberty with Isla—one of the hardest times I’ve ever laughed. And in the middle of my whole family laughing, Isla looks up and goes, “Yo, this doesn’t go on stage.” And I respect that. I’m definitely cognizant that they’re going to be grownups and have to live their lives as well. So I don’t want to try to ruin that, but I do want to pay for college, so. This page:

Kreischer’s big break came when his comedy special Secret Time aired on Netlfix in 2018; Kreischer on Conan in 2018

So you’re a Jimmy Buffett fan? BK: Oh, I’ve been dying to get him on my podcast because I feel like Jimmy Buffett’s thumbprint, his lifestyle, was so embedded in our DNA as Floridians that even who I am today, there are hints (obviously, few and far between artistically), but hints of Jimmy Buffett. I mean, people come to my shows and party and tap out and go, “We’re having a good time.”

TEQUILA TALKING Speaking of tapping out, this will be your third sober October. HOW DID THAT ALL COME ABOUT? BK: I really think Sober October is what makes the podcasts special. I was going to a Rockies game in Denver, and I was texting with three of my best friends: Joe Rogan,

Along with giggling and having a blast with other big-name comics on your podcast, at times you delve into issues like race, freedom of speech and the #MeToo movement. it’s hard to tell, though, where you land on the issues. BK: I think, as a comic, your responsibility should be to equally weigh both sides of any issue and then try to find out what’s funny. I get turned off by comics that are just one-sided. I have a bit about buying a gun right now that I think perfectly explains my politics. When they hear the bit, I think

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Tom Segura and Ari Shaffir. I was drinking at the time, and Joe was like, “How long do you think you could stop drinking?” And I was like, “90 days easy-peasy.” And he was like, “Bullshit.” And everyone started putting bets on it. Later, we went in to do a podcast, and Joe asked me how much I drink. And I thought I needed to be honest, which I’ve always done when podcasting because otherwise you get caught up in lies. So I said, “I usually drink about nine tequilas and Southerns in a night.” Nine tequilas every night?! BK: Now, Segura knows I drink doubles so those are 18 drinks technically. And Joe goes, “You can’t live like that.” And it gets very serious, and that’s how Sober October started. Joe then said, “All right, all of us are going to quit drinking.” And then we started talking about marijuana, about how much marijuana Joe uses, and he said something really telling like, “How am I supposed to enjoy my food?” I went, “All right, we all need to quit drinking and doing drugs for a month.” So, the four of us decided together to quit drinking and doing drugs for the month of October and to add some sort of physical challenge in it that would get us healthy. So we did 15 Bikram yoga sessions that first October and we didn’t do any drugs or any alcohol. And we fucking loved it. We would go to hot yoga together. We were texting nonstop. We were laughing. Our comedy was getting better. It was just a really great, great bonding month. And a bunch of fans did it along with us, and people started texting us going, “I did Sober October with you, and I just got off opioids.”

This page: Kreischer as a kid

in Tampa; the father to two teenage girls says that he doesn’t want to “ruin their lives” with his act, but he also wants to pay for college.

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Or “I quit smoking,” or “I just got healthy, I lost 100 pounds.” It was really inspirational. how did sober october impact you personally? BK: When I started drinking again, I drank exponentially less. I learned how to go to sleep without drinking. I learned how to fly without drinking, which was something I never could have done. And so it changed my life, Tom’s life, Ari’s life and Joe’s life, in different ways. So what do you do every Nov. 1? BK: We have a blowout party. Every Nov. 1 we’ve all gotten together, done a podcast, gotten the highest I’ve ever gotten in my entire life, gotten the drunkest I’ve ever gotten, and we’ve done a three-and-a-halfhour podcast together. Then we go out for steaks and just eat and none of us work out. well, What would you do with your act if you got thin? BK: Oh, you know what? Let me deal with that. God forbid. I would love to be in great shape. I would fucking love it. It’s never going to happen. The Machine would take on a new meaning. BK: I’m the fattest that I’ve ever been. I was just in Australia, and we were in Bali before that, and I’ve just been on vacation. By the way, my version of skinny is still a doctor’s version of obese. You’re still going to have some belly overhang? BK: Yeah. Netflix said, “We want to put a billboard on Sunset [Boulevard] for you,” and I was like, “Hell yeah. That makes sense.” And it was just a picture of my belly. Everyone got a picture with that. So what’s the next career step for you? BK: I came out to LA thinking I’d be an actor, so get into comedy, get into acting, do a sitcom, maybe be a movie star. And then I kind of was like, forget all that. I really don’t enjoy being on set. Then I realized, oh, I think I’d enjoy being on set if I created the project. So I have three projects right now that I’ve created that I would love to do. We’ve got one movie and two TV shows that we’ve semi-sold, but nothing’s a sure thing in LA. Stand-up’s the only thing I can promise. I can promise that I’ll be on tour. I can promise that I’m writing jokes.

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By STEVE DOLLAR Photography by PATRICIA O’DRISCOLL Vintage Photography by SIDNEY SMITH

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Southern Blood, the final album by the late Gregg Allman, who co-founded the Allman Brothers Band in Jacksonville 48 years ago, takes the Southern rock pioneer’s career full circle. FLAMINGOMAG.COM /// 5 T H A N N I V E R SA RY ISS UE 2 0 2 1

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hank Middleton will never forget the first time he met Gregg Allman. He was two months out of high school, shining shoes at Braswell’s Barber Shop in Macon, Georgia. In the dog days of August, the banter between employees was accompanied by the rattle and hum of an air conditioner. If that wasn’t enough to soothe a sweat, a quarter bought an icy Coca-Cola from a vending machine. Next door was a rehearsal studio owned by Phil Walden, the onetime manager of soul legend Otis Redding and the founder of Capricorn Records, and it was equipped with neither. During breaks, the members of Walden’s new discovery, the Allman Brothers Band, would wander over to the barber shop to stand in the air conditioning with a cold drink. Middleton still recalls the first time they visited: “They all gathered around the shoeshine stand. I was tripping out … because I’d never seen hippies before.” One of them asked Middleton to shine his shoes. “All the while I was shining his shoes, I was looking at the glasses he had on, the shades. When I got through with the shoes, he stepped down. He says, ‘What do I owe you, man?’ And I say, ‘A quarter, man.’ So he gave me a quarter for the shoeshine, and then he looked at me, and he went, ‘You like these shades, don’t you, man?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I like them.’ He pulled them off and handed them to me and said, ‘There’s your tip!’ That’s how it started.” The two became best friends, and, over the next five decades, as Allman grew famous and faced a number of very public tragedies and tribulations, they stayed best friends.

“He didn’t like to go nowhere without me,” Middleton said. On May 27, Allman died in his home in Richmond Hill, Georgia, age 69, as a result of liver cancer. The performer’s public image was shaped by the follies of youthful stardom and the desperado lyrics of his 1973 signature hit “Midnight Rider,” but, in later years, he had become something of an elder statesman of rock. Sitting behind his Hammond B3 organ during performances with the Allman Brothers and with his solo band, he was a figure of true grit and majesty. He was also known as something of a ladies’ man, having wed seven times, but those close to Allman knew the deeper story behind the shades. “He was truly … a beautiful Southern gentleman,” said Michael Lehman, Allman’s manager from 2004 until the singer’s death. Lehman helped the singer sharpen his professional focus and claim the respect he was due. “The last 10 or 20 years, my father tried to come out of the fog of the drug use and regret and start having some clarity,” said Devon Allman, Gregg’s son by his first wife Shelley Kay Jefts and, like several of the performer’s other children, a professional musician. “I was really proud of him for that.” “A lot of people don’t know this, but basically he was an extremely shy person. He had a heart as big as Texas,” said Middleton, who traveled off and on with Allman since the early days. That’s the Gregg Allman who made Southern Blood. With this new album, which will be released September 8, 2017 by Rounder Records, the musician goes back to his roots. The record’s 10 tracks were recorded at Fame StuThis page: Gregg dios in Muscle Shoals, Alapreparing to bama, the fabled audio go on stage at the Cow Palace mecca in the northwest corin San Francisco, ner of the Cotton State. It Ca., in 1973

with the guitar he’d bought at a Sears department store. All of a sudden, his brother was, too. In a 1973 interview, Allman shared the story with Rolling Stone’s Cameron Crowe. “Pretty soon we had fights over the damn thing, so when it came around to our birthdays—mine was in December and his was in November—we both got one. I got mine a little earlier than my birthday, actually. Matter of fact, I put hands on my first electric guitar November 10, 1960, at three o’clock that Saturday afternoon. Duane’s guitar got into the picture shortly after that.” As teenagers, the brothers began playing in local beach bands, and, in 1965, they hit the road with the Allman Joys, the second band they formed together. Although the Allman Brothers Band is most commonly associated with Macon, Georgia, the group actually formed in Jacksonville in March

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CHANK MIDDLETON, ROUNDER RECORDS, SIDNE YSMITHPHOTOS.COM

was there that Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin, Etta James, Boz Scaggs, King Curtis, Herbie Mann and many others made some of the greatest pop, rock and rhythm and blues recordings of all time, each of them infused with a touch of swamp juice. In the late 1960s, Gregg’s brother Duane Allman began forming what would become the Allman Brothers Band while working for the studio as a session musician. Older than his brother by nearly a year, Duane never lived to enjoy his namesake band’s massive success. In one of rock music’s greatest tragedies, he died in a 1971 motorcycle crash. A year later, Berry Oakley, the band’s bassist, died in a similar accident only three blocks away from where the guitarist crashed. The premature deaths haunted the band and are still the most poignant part of its bittersweet legend. “Gregg never got over the loss of his brother, and Gregg felt that Duane’s spirit was with him all the time,” said Don Was, who has produced albums by the Rolling Stones, Brian Wilson and Willie Nelson. Was guided the sessions for Southern Blood in March 2016. According to Middleton, Gregg Allman found a deep communion in Alabama. “To him, going back in there was like being … side by side with his brother,” he said. “Duane’s spirit is so heavy in that place, it’s like he’s still in there.” Though Alabama held a special significance for them both, the Allmans had deep Florida roots. They were born in Nashville, but their mother moved the family to Daytona Beach in 1958, nine years after her husband, Willis Turner Allman, was murdered by a hitchhiker. In the summer of 1960, the boys This page from left: Gregg and developed two life-changing Chank Middleton; Don Was at the Muscle Shoals recording obsessions: motorcycles and sessions for Southern Blood; guitars. Gregg was obsessed Gregg on the keys

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Duane Allman, the band’s cofounder, who died in 1971; Gregg Allman on guitar

1969. Several band members lived in This page right: Gregg backstage a gray house just south of downtown. at the Cow Palace, They didn’t stay in the city very long, San Francisco, Ca., in 1973 but the Sunshine State was never far from their view. Gregg Allman spent the last years of his life at his Georgia home, located about 100 miles north of the band’s birthplace. Despite his health issues, those last years were good. Before calling it quits in 2014, the Allman Brothers Band was playing at its best. Between tours, Gregg was highly productive on his own: He launched the Laid Back Festival, played tribute concerts and released several albums, including 2011’s Grammy-nominated Low Country Blues. Despite the singer’s catlike capacity to outlive his doctor’s forecasts, those close to him say he was eager to make the Muscle Shoals record. “It was weird,” said Was. “I knew, and I knew that he knew, but we never talked about it once. I think a certain refusal to accept it is what kept him going longer than doctors said he would.” In hindsight, it’s obvious that Allman saw Southern Blood as his valediction. The first words of the album’s opening track, the country-blues ballad “My Only True Friend,” spell it out: “You and I both know this river will surely flow to an end.”

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In March of 1969, the Allman Brothers Band formed in Jacksonville, where most of the members were living at the time. Their first concert under that name was at the Jax Beach Auditorium on March 26, 1969.

In 1958, Gregg, Duane and their mom, Geraldine, moved from Nashville to Daytona Beach. As teenagers, Gregg and Duane formed their first band and played gigs all over Daytona.

BORN A RAMBLIN’ MAN

The song, co-written by Allman and guitarist Scott Sharrard and, notably, Allman’s only writing credit on the album, takes the form of a message to a lover, but, according to Was, it meant much more to him than that. “He’s explaining to the world what the people who knew him knew: He was complete as a human being, and very happy and at his best, when he was on stage playing music,” Was said. “He truly lived to do that. And the challenges he faced in life were what to do with himself between tours and shows. He lays it out in a very honest and extremely vulnerable way. … Really, everything you need to know about Gregg Allman is in that opening song.” Allman and Was took a good two years to decide what to include, and the tracks aren’t all in the same register. There are songs by some of Allman’s favorite artists, including “Willin” by Lowell George, “Black Muddy River” by Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter, and blues giant Willie Dixon’s “I Love the Life I Live.” “Blind Bats and Swamp Rats” is a track from the blues singer Johnny Jenkins’s 1970 album Ton-Ton Macoute!, which Duane Allman produced and played on during his Muscle Shoals days. There’s also a gorgeous, churched-up performance of the obscure Bob Dylan song “Going, Going, Gone,” with gosAbove from top: pel harmonies by the McCrary Sisters Gregg with guitarists Scott and a horn section resonant with that Sharrard and Taj unmistakable Muscle Shoals sound— Mahal; Gregg with manager warm and sweet like honeyed whiskey. longtime and friend Michael “The horn players, they don’t get their Lehman

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own microphones,” Was explained. “You stand in the little glass booth where the horn players stood in the ’60s, … and the horn players have to balance themselves around one mic. … You’re getting a lot of reflections off the walls. So the horns sound like all the other horns that have been there. … It’s incredible to be in the presence of that.” After all their preparation, Was, Allman and the band “flew through it,” Was said. THE HIT LIST “Despite the gravitas of the material, the sessions were quite lighthearted and a lot of fun.” by Gregg Allman Upbeat for most of the interview, the producer got emotional when discussing the album’s closing track, “Song for Adam.” The S outhern Blood song was written by Jackson Browne, the composer of the song “These Days,” which Gregg recorded for his All My Friends first solo album, Laid Back. Browne and Allman were roommates in Los Angeles for a brief spell. “It’s about a buddy of Low Country Blues

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IN RECENT YEARS

2017

2014

2011

ROUNDER RECORDS

WHILE TENNESSEE AND GEORGIA LOOM LARGE IN ALLMAN’S HISTORY, MANY turning points in his LIFE AND career played out IN THE SUNSHINE STATE.

The band broke up in 1976 and completely reformed in 1979 (it had gotten back together in 1978, but not all members had returned yet). In 1979 Gregg moved to Siesta Key to write music with Dickey Betts.

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Gregg performing in Jones Beach, NY, in 2015

THE HIT LIST

CLASSIC ALBUMS t The Allman Bros. Band

1969 1971 At Fillmore East

1972 Eat a Peach

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performs at the Lakewood Amphitheatre in Atlanta on Oct. 29, 2016. It was the last concert he ever played. /// FLAMINGOMAG.COM

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COURTESY ROUNDER RECORDS

The Allman Brothers Band

Jackson’s who either fell or jumped off a mountain while he was hiking and died,” Was said. “In the story of squelched promise of a young life, I think that Gregg always thought about Duane. He can’t quite sing the last two lines. He got choked up.” The producer recited the line that moved the singer so much: “Still it seems he stopped his singing in the middle of his song. Well, I’m not the one to say I know, This page from top: The Allman Brothers but I’m hoping he was wrong.” Band at the Beacon Theatre in NYC in Browne lends harmonies to the 2014; Gregg with new version, but rather than rerecord Middleton; Gregg with his son Devon the final lines, “we all agreed we’d just leave it open. I can still picture Gregg choking up,” Was said. The silent lines are especially touching now. Those close to Allman thought he might live to see the record’s release. “You know how you have a friend, and you don’t give a damn what happens to this friend, you know they’re going to overcome it and be okay? That’s the attitude we had with him. He even had it with himself up until the last few months,” Middleton said. “I always thought he would bounce back.” To call Allman resilient doesn’t quite cut it. “That’s the understatement of the year,”

Devon Allman said. “He must have saved a truckload of nuns in his former life. He had somebody looking down after him. I say that cheekily, but also it’s truly a gift to have had him as long as we had him. He dealt with major losses all through his life. He had a boatload of regret always sitting on his heart, in regards to the failed marriages and the children he never raised. He pushed through, he wrote music, and he played to make people feel good.” Devon Allman, who first met his father when he was 17, quoted a piece of fan mail that the performer once received. “Thank you for living the life we could never live, for giving us the music that we could never live without.” “When we look into the life of Gregg Allman, most people would not really want that life, but everybody wants the music,” Devon Allman said. “I thought that was probably the coolest thing a man ever said to him, and I think it pretty much sums it up.”

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SPRING 2018

Stilted, Jilted & ReBuilted

STILTSVILLE, an outcropping of brightly painted stilt homes standing one mile off the coast of Miami, has captivated the imaginations and the hearts of Floridians for decades, from urban legends about its wild days as an outpost for Prohibition-era gambling and drinking to treasured memories from the actual caretakers who have fought to preserve the area, now a national park, for generations. By NILA DO SIMON // Photography by MARY BETH KOETH model ANASTASIA ASHLEY // makeup and hair by RACHELE FIALCO styling by MODELCITIZEN and GYPSET & PEARL

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he seven wooden structures piercing through the turquoise-blue waters of Miami’s Biscayne Bay make for one of the world’s most majestic—if rarely visited—destinations. For the few who’ve traveled to the water-enriched community of Stiltsville, these seven structures represent an antidote to the hustle of Miami’s big-city scene. And for the even fewer who’ve set foot in these rustic, primitively equipped cabins, the site is a chance to relax and enjoy the 360-degree views of water typically offered by private islands while actually barely being on land at all. About a mile from Key Biscayne’s southern tip, Stiltsville’s pastel-colored houses seem to hover above the bay’s glistening water, resting atop tall, stilt-like pilings that stand on seagrass flats. Boaters who stumble upon the structures have said they come out of nowhere, without preamble, a subdivision of seven homes with no entrance or exit signs. The houses, a waypoint for hundreds of seagulls, have no electricity. Cross winds provide air conditioning. Drinking water and ice, highly coveted commodities, are imported from the mainland. Rustic bunks line the walls of bed-

rooms, and wooden window shutters are all that protect each elevated bungalow’s inhabitants from the elements should an afternoon storm roll in. To the uninitiated, Stiltsville is the maritime equivalent of Neverland, a fairy-tale-like venue where boys and girls never grow up and can escape from mainland monontony. It’s been that way since the 1930s, when Eddie “Crawfish” Walker and a following of fishermen would congregate in the first shack in the middle of the bay, embracing Old Florida’s bucolic values. The idea of Stiltsville was then born, a concept of a Neverland of sorts that has stood the test of time against all odds—including threats from Mother Nature and mankind—for nearly 90 years. “Once you reach this part of the bay, Miami is over,” says Julian Siegel, a Fort Lauderdale resident who has escorted his two sons, Ashton, 15, and Hudson, 13, to Stiltsville with their troop of nautical Sea Scouts. “There are no skyscrapers, no high-rises, and you’re in at the edge of the world. It’s the most amazing sensation to be out there in the middle of the water. It makes you wonder what type of craziness took place during the rum-runners’ time.” Lore has it that Crawfish Walker built a stopping point for fishermen going in and out of the bay, where he’d sell bait, beer and chowder. As more and more fishermen stopped by, more structures were built, including vacation homes for families looking for their own oasis in the bay. Far enough away from authorities on dry land, yet a close jaunt from the city, it also proved an ideal Previous spread: Three, two, one, location for Miami’s playjump! An early boys, who operated under morning plunge after sleeping on the premise that whatthe flats ever happened in StiltsAbove: Anastasia ville stayed in Stiltsville. In Ashley perched on the porch 1938, a social space called of the iconic the Calvert Club opened, A-frame house inviting the elite to take Right: The seven remaining their revelry onto the water. houses are like camp Two years later, another cabins, with no social venue—the multielectricity or running water. story Quarterdeck Club—

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opened. If those walls could talk, they might describe a rocking scene with gambling, drinking and exotic dancers. The good times rolled well into the 1960s and 1970s, when the famed Bikini Club opened with—you guessed it—bikini-clad women blanketing the area. Miami Dolphins part-owner Earl Smalley had created a see-and-be-seen party-like atmosphere at his Stiltsville home. It’s even been rumored that the late Sen. Ted Kennedy held his bachelor party at one of the homes there. Over the last decade, the watery enclave has evolved into a tamer destination, where families, groups of friends, nature lovers and even corporations congregate for good old-fashioned campouts over the water and under the stars. But stories of the old days have been passed down

through generations like treasured heirlooms. At its height, Stiltsville was home to 27 structures, mostly owned by well-to-do individuals who had the means to care for the uninsured buildings. Most of these homes succumbed to hurricane damage or fires, leaving the seven remaining buildings to carry on the commuAbove: Anastasia Ashley on the dock nity’s storied legacy. in a suit by Fleur Swim, shorts by J Though its location in an Brand, and tote by oasis in the middle of a Sensi Studio bay might seem perfect, Left: The construction of ironically, Stiltsville is the A-frame house nearly defenseless before uses remnant wood from a the ravages of powerful church in Miami storms, including Septemand from the old Quarterdeck Club. ber’s Hurricane Irma. At

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one point a category 5 hurricane, Irma’s tropical-storm-strength winds hit Stiltsville with enough impact to damage nearly all of the structures’ docks and railings, as well as the roof of one bungalow. As of this writing, only one of the seven structures has been repaired enough for public use.

FORCES OF NATURE, AND MANKIND As a teenager growing up in Miami in the 1980s, Kevin Mase remembers thinking how fun it would be to own a Stiltsville home. His friend’s uncle owned the house called Bay Chateau and would often invite Mase to come by to provide, in Mase’s words, “some free labor” by pressurewashing the home and tidying up. Despite the incessant upkeep needed to maintain an overthe-water property that regularly took heavy beatings from the salt water and whirling winds, even as a teenager Mase saw the upside to owning a Stiltsville cabin. “Going out there on the weekends formed an impression on me when I was young,” Mase says. “As much as I like progress and new things, I also like how things used to be, and Stiltsville rep-

resents that. You can appreciate the environment, you can appreciate the clarity of the water and jumping in, swimming back to the structure. You feel like you’re a million miles away from civilization.” An opportunity to buy a place came nearly a decade later, and Mase and three high school friends pooled their money to purchase Bay Chateau. Built in the 1960s, it’s a two-bedroom, two-bathroom home with a small kitchen and sunken-floor living room and dining area. On a clear day, its bright yellow exterior and sea-foamgreen roof can be spotted miles away. As the friends’ interest in the structure waxed and waned over the years, Mase’s commitment remained so steadfast that five years ago he became the chairman of the Stiltsville Trust, a nonprofit organization created to care for and maintain each of the remaining seven buildings and uphold their legacies. The trust was founded in the early 2000s out of what the homeowners and some politicians felt was a necessity: They wanted to keep Stiltsville away from the destructive hands not of Mother Nature, but of mankind. The story

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Ashley bonds with a Stiltsville pup. Lots of repairs (and TLC) are still needed five months after Hurricane Irma ripped through Biscayne Bay. The day’s catch on display on ice in a clawfoot bathtub at Stiltsville Fish Bar; chefs Jeff McInnis and Janine Booth named their latest venture after Stiltsville, the location of their first date; a fish bar crowd favorite, sweet corn spoon bread with poached lobster

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GROVE BAY HOSPITALIT Y GROUP, MICHAEL PISARRI

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THE OTHER STILTSVILLE stiltsville fish bar opened (on dry land) in Miami earlier this year As chefs Jeff McInnis and Janine Booth see it, their newest dining concept shouldn’t be revolutionary, at least not in Florida. Both McInnis, a Florida native, and the Australianborn Booth longed to celebrate the coastal traditions of fishing and eating responsibly caught fish; they were raised to think this way. What’s more, the two Top Chef alumni wanted to revive the dying art of the independently owned, locally

sourced fish market, something McInnis grew up with in Florida’s Panhandle. “The area has been screaming for a good, locally focused fish house for some time,” McInnis says of Miami Beach. “We have some great seafood places around us, but they tend to serve tuna, hamachi and other flown-in fishes, and they’re done in Japanese style. We wanted to bring back the idea of serving local fish that’s simple but beautifully prepared,

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whether by us or the consumer.” The result is Stiltsville Fish Bar, a seafood restaurant that opened last September in Miami Beach. The pair named the restaurant after Stiltsville, the iconic village of seven houses built on stilts in Biscayne Bay, because it was the location of their first date and a place that Booth describes as “magical.” The 4,000-square-foot space has a dining room, complete with a bar and lounge, as

well as indoor and outdoor seating. (A rooftop expansion is also in the works.) In addition, there’s a fish market where shoppers can drop in to purchase the catch of the day, along with the same spices, sauces and accoutrements that the chefs use to prepare meals from the restaurant’s menu. McInnis and Booth are no strangers to the chef-driven restaurant concept. Their Southerninspired Root & Bone restaurant opened in 2014 in

New York City’s hip East Village. But this time, instead of their much-lauded fried chicken, the pair are hedging their bets on the fresh catches of the day. They work with eight different fishing fleets, from Stuart to Key West and the Gulf of Mexico, for the seafood, which is either line-caught or caught with a net smaller than 10 feet by 10 feet. Each night, the menu includes what was hauled in by the fleet that day; sometimes, that involves a species the chefs have never heard of. “The other day, the fishermen brought in kingklip, which is an eel-like fish that swims thousands of feet under the sea,” McInnis says. “I’ve never worked

with it before, but we were able to prepare a beautiful presentation.” “You will never see salmon or tuna, or anything that comes out of Japan or the Mediterranean, in our restaurant,” Booth adds. “We really want to help the local fishermen that we’re working with. People know their salmons and their tunas, so it’s amazing for us to promote the fish that we love, but aren’t known to locals.” Booth and McInnis say nothing is ever frozen in their restaurant. Well, except for one thing. They explain that the restaurant only has one freezer, measuring about 2 feet by 2 feet. After all, they have to keep the ice cream somewhere.

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goes that sometime in the early 1970s authorities began to consider some type of regulation of the otherwise lawless Stiltsville. In 1976, the Florida Department of Natural Resources recommended letting all Stiltsville leases expire on July 1, 1999, essentially shutting down the community when the clock struck midnight on July 1 and prepar-

When people see Stiltsville for the first time, when you open the structure to them, it’s meaningful. They remember that moment forever. —kevin mase

ing for its eventual demolition. To compound matters, owners were instructed to remove the homes at their own expense, forced to pay for a demolition that they didn’t even want. Adding the proverbial salt to the wound, in 1985 the National Park Service acquired the land at the bottom of the bay, which meant that each lease was now in their hands. Residents had to pay $1,000 each year to “rent” their own homes. For Stiltsville families who had seen their homes pass through generations of hands, the idea that only one more generation could enjoy Neverland didn’t sit well. From the perspective of the National Park Service, private use of park property could not go on. After several more years of squabbling between homeowners and government officials—which gave way to lease extensions, eviction notices and several sides pitted against one another, including an emergent Save Old Stiltsville rallying support group— the two parties eventually reached an agreement. Since the mid-2000s, the structures have belonged to the National Park Service, the former homeowners maintain the responsibility of caring for their buildings, and the structures are available for public use via permits approved by the Stiltsville Trust. To most people, relinquishing ownership of a home to become caretaker of a space shared with the public is the equivalent of having your resThis page: idence ripped from you Ashely paddles between Stiltsville while strangers meander structures in Biscayne Bay. through it every so often.

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But if that’s the compromise Stiltsville caretakers needed to make to save the homesites, then they would do it a thousand times over. “These structures are the identity of this community,” Mase says. “There’s a sense of community out there. The houses are all unique and different, but yet they are all the same because they represent Stiltsville. It’s my identity to Miami.” In fact, Mase and the other former owners seem happy to share their love of this slice of paradise with others who would normally never have the chance to set foot in one of the wooden bungalows. To date, the structures have hosted Boy Scout troops, school groups, burials at sea and at-risk kids from Miami who had never seen the ocean before. “You have a sense of pride, a sense of duty to introduce people to Stiltsville,” Mase says. “When people see Stiltsville for the first time, when you open the structure to them, it’s meaningful. They remember that moment forever.”

FIGHTING FOR ITS FUTURE

from Florida: the boating lifestyle and Stiltsville. Raised in Miami, Davis had heard of this mythical place, where one’s troubles melt away alongside the undulating bay current, as a child. But it wasn’t until he retired after 25 years with the Coral Gables Fire Department that he started visiting Stiltsville. “A friend had said that now that I was retired, I needed to buy a boat,” Davis says. “And if you buy a boat, you need to go to Stiltsville. To put it in perspective, in Miami, there’s bound to be someone who just cut you off in the middle of I-95 or someone who just had a bad day at work. And guess where I’m at? I’m on the dock listening to a bird chirp. It’s a very tranquil place where you can be removed from the rest of the world.” Davis joined the Miami Springs Power Boat Club, a group of 75 boat Above: Stiltsvillians enthusiasts, many of feel a deep sense them firefighters, teachof community and responsibility ers and police officers, to maintain the who socialize both on dry structures. land and on the water. Left: No more bootlegging, but The Miami Springs the good times still Power Boat Club takes roll out on the flats.

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PHOTO CREDIT ISTOCK; BIKINI BY MODELCITIZEN

For retired firefighter Charles Davis, there are two obstacles keeping him from moving away

care of Stiltsville structure No. 7. Prior to last year’s devasation by Hurricane Irma, the Club had sprawling dock space for about 15 boats— quite expansive when compared with the other structures, which accommodate one or two boats. The club hosted epic get-togethers for up to 200 guests, including fishing tournaments for kids and civic groups. “One year, a [mentally disabled] girl reeled in a fish with some help, and she earned herself a trophy,” says Davis, who served as the group’s commodore for four years. “Later, we received a letter telling us how the tournament made her year and how she was showing off her trophy to everyone. Stories don’t get much better than that.” The narrative has changed tremendously since Hurricane Irma blew through Florida. Davis says the club’s structure isn’t ready for the public. The house and the docks received several hundred

thousand dollars’ worth of damage. Along with other caretakers, Davis believes another rallying call to save old Stiltsville is in order. This time he hopes that donors will contribute to the Stiltsville Trust to salvage these structures from the latest chapter of destruction. It’s something that Siegel hopes comes to

party, but they love it. In turn, they receive the rare experience of truly living the salt life: fishing, snorkeling and jumping off the docks into the crystal-blue waters. To be sure, because Stiltsville is part of the National Parks Service, caretakers emphasize that nothing natural can be disturbed by people or taken from the area. After last year’s storm, the troop was devastated to hear of the damages to the structures—so much so that they sent a boat full of scouts to clean up the debris around Stiltsville. For Siegel, it’s the least they could do to help preserve Neverland, where his boys can still be boys for a while longer. “To know that you have this treasure that so many people love and care about, and at a whim Mother Nature can erase, it’s devastating,” Siegel says. “Once it’s erased, it belongs to Biscayne Bay. So we need to treasure it for as long as we can.”

In Miami, there’s bound to be someone who just cut you off in the middle of I-95 or someone who just had a bad day at work. And guess where I’m at?

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— Charles davis

fruition. The Fort Lauderdale dad’s two sons, Ashton and Hudson, look forward to going out to Stiltsville with their troop to perform service projects on the Miami Springs Power Boat Club’s structure, like repairing rotted wood, cleaning seagull poo and other jobs. It’s a work

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This page:

Eve spices things up wearing a sorbet-sweet vintage Lilly shift with shades and stacked bangles. Opposite:

The citrusy background to this page is a vintage men’s Lilly cabana shirt.

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SPRING 2017

A look at vintage Lilly Pulitzer designs and how the artistic crew behind her famous patterns fatefully linked up with the Palm Beach socialite in the 1960s and helped create the blueprint for an iconic fashion brand.

VINTAGE LILLY PAT TERNS AND CLOTHING ICONS THROUGHOUT FEATURE PHOTOGR APHED BY KELSE Y MAGENNIS

LONG LOST

By NANCY KLINGENER Photography by MARY BETH KOETH M O D E L : E V E G AY V IN TAGE LILLY C LOT H I NG : O N LOAN F R O M NANCY NO O NAN AND E L I NO R STE P H E NS M A K E U P : J E NNI F E R M I NCH E L L A O F TH E R OSY CH E E K M OD E R N D E SIGN E R C LOT H E S , S U NG L ASS E S AND ACCE SS O R I E S : E M LY B E NH AM AND P E NE LO P E T

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Maybe you think you know

Lilly Pulitzer. Brightly colored florals, simple lines, 1960s

country club Kennedy cool.

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pattern: “lazy river”

PHOTOGR APHY BY LILLY PULITZER

What else is there? Turns out, lots. The story of Lilly Pulitzer isn’t just that of a society lady who made a splash with some frocks. It’s a story of reinvention and freedom and of the sultry, subtropical ’60s. It’s the deep connection that a style, defined in one time and place, somehow continues to make in South Florida and beyond. It’s a story of creating style trends while defying cultural strictures. “There’s an emotional bond to collecting Lilly or wearing Lilly,” says Lori Durante, executive director of the Museum of Lifestyle and Fashion History in Boynton Beach. Seven years ago, the museum hosted an exhibition entitled For the Love of Lilly, and the namesake herself crossed the Intracoastal Waterway to visit. “The visitors responded to her like she was a rock star,” Durante says. “When they saw her, people were screaming, ‘Lilly, Lilly, Lilly!’” Years before the museum show, the Lilly Pulitzer line was wiped out and then revived (that’s so South Florida). Lilly Pulitzer herself died in 2013, but her name and look live on. For younger women, she embodies the name “Pulitzer” more than her first husband’s This page: grandfather, the publishing Eve stands out in double zip-front magnate. More than her Lilly pants from the first husband’s second wife, ’60s or ’70s at the Lightner Museum Roxanne, of the scandalous in St. Augustine. trumpet, alleged extramarital Opposite: affairs and drug abuse. In the Lilly Pulitzer looks relaxed and regal in public mind, Lilly Pulitzer gilded slides at her is inextricably tied to Palm first Palm Beach shop, stocked with Beach. But she wasn’t frocks for women from there (again, so South and girls.

Florida). She was a society girl from New York whose mother came from Standard Oil money. She attended Miss Porter’s with Jacqueline Bouvier, who later helped make Lilly’s designs famous as First Lady Jackie Kennedy. In 1952, Lilly eloped with Peter Pulitzer, another wealthy

young scion. No big society wedding for her. They told their families about the marriage after the fact. They lived in Palm Beach year-round. Who did that? But they had little use for society, at least of the uptight variety. They threw great parties. Lilly ran around barefoot. Peter grew oranges outside of town on a large grove. The couple was soon a family, with three babies in five years. In 1957, after a breakdown led to a spell in a northern hospital, Lilly came back to Palm Beach and

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TROPICAL TWIST Key West is the essential South Florida ingredient in the Lilly ethos and empire. The island added character and freedom to the Palm Beach class, the mix of louche and glam needed to create the legend. The island at the tip of the state—of the continent—was the original blueprint for the South Florida

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This page, clockwise: story, that melding of cultures and Jim Russell; Suzie classes, creativity born of desperation. dePoo (right); the Key West Hand Print Fabrics started Key West Hand Print Fabrics building; a at about the same time as Lilly’s juice 1972 drawing for Key West Hand Print stand as its own reinvention effort. Fabrics The guys behind Key West Hand Print Opposite: Eve, in were experts at rebranding themselves, a vintage Lilly, as they were veterans of the New York embodies the brand’s bohemian roots. theater scene who discovered Key West when it was one of those rare isolated outposts where people could be openly gay—an artists’ colony like Provincetown, Massachusetts, and a Navy town like San Francisco, all with a subtropical Gulf Coast languor. No wonder Tennessee Williams made the island his home for 40 years. Walter Starcke started Key West Hand Print Fabrics unintentionally, with a simple act of real estate development. He’s described in contemporary newspaper stories as “a former Broadway stage actor and producer” with “large brown eyes” and a “42-year-old bachelor.” He renovated one of the old buildings near Key West Harbor. Once the building

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PHOTOGR APHY BY FLORIDA KE YS PUBLIC LIBR ARY

pattern: “Gimme A Leg” opened a juice stand. She acquired an important ally early on— Laura Robbins Clark, formerly a fashion editor of Harper’s Bazaar, who had moved to the Palm Beach area for her husband’s job. She was friends with Lilly’s sister (named, of course, Mimsy), who told her to look up Lilly. “The doctor said she must not just sit around,” Clark told Vanity Fair in 2003. “He knew Florida and what happens is you get very logy and lazy.” Lilly expanded her juice stand at the orange grove to a store on Via Mizner in Palm Beach, and Laura joined her there. They worked the store—and found themselves constantly covered in sticky juice. So, the two created a sort of uniform for themselves: a simple shift dress with no cinched waists or tight sleeves. They were working, and they needed to move. It was Florida, it was hot and the ’50s were ending. “They haphazardly hung those dresses in the store, and the dresses became more popular than the juice,” says Durante. Lilly was using “dime store” cotton for the dresses, buying it retail, until someone—an artist friend or Lilly’s mother and sister, accounts differ—went to Key West and discovered Key West Hand Print Fabrics.

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“She only did it to try and keep us alive. She would come in...and talk to us for hours.” —Tony falcone

was done, “I had to find a use for it,” Starcke said. Fortunately, he ran into With big hoop “two old friends from the theater” who earrings, Eve rocks a coral-hued were visiting Key West—choreographer vintage caftan. Jim Russell and Peter Pell, a stage manager. They came up with an enterprise—Fabrics. Designed in-house and printed with screens, the old-fashioned way. Starcke, Pell and Russell knew they had something special with that Key West name and the Key West aesthetic: florals galore, which went beyond whimsical to wild; animals that didn’t live on this continent, much less the island, but that conjured up sunny freedom nonetheless; suns smiling down with expressions that evoked both classical carvings and the cultural liberation that was just over the horizon. Opposite:

PHOTOGR APHY BY (PREVIOUS SPREAD) MONROE COUNT Y PUBLIC LIBR ARY, LORI DUR ANTE

SUZIE’S STORY The guys had one secret asset who was already there, as if she were waiting for them to arrive and recognize her talent— Suzie dePoo, another New York woman redefining herself in South Florida. She was not from Lilly Pulitzer’s New York. Agnes Zuzek was 11 years older than Lilly. Her parents were Yugoslavian farmers in the western part of the state. She served in World War II as a baker (the nickname “Suzie” came from her fellows in the Women’s Army Corps, who couldn’t pronounce her last name). After the war she used the G.I. Bill to attend the Pratt Institute, studying design and art. In New York, her roommate, Jeane Porter, was a member of one of Key West’s most prominent families. Porter introduced Suzie to another Key Wester of locally prominent lineage, John dePoo. They married and down to the island she came. In her own work, she was obsessed with the fantastic— mermaids and unicorns—and with decoration in the tradition of William Morris and William DeMorgan, but with the flora and fauna of the latitudes where she’d washed up. Nance Frank, who represented Suzie dePoo for 20 years at Frank’s Gallery on Greene in Key West, describes dePoo’s work as “the continual elegance of innocence.” The artist made ceramics and wild, imaginative sculptures for her own work. But for years her imagination, her eye and her hand were the secret sweetness behind the phenomenal appeal of Lilly Pulitzer.

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LILLY’S LAND The Hand Print Fabrics factory and store opened late in 1961. From the beginning, it was a factory, tourist attraction, design studio and retail shop. Russell and Pell proved experts at spinning its legend in the local press and beyond, especially once Lilly Pulitzer got a look at their fabrics. The story goes that she came down from Palm Beach, ordered 500 yards—their largest purchase ever—and then called from the airport to make it a thousand. The next day, she called from Palm Beach to triple the order. From then on, it was a partnership, even if she wasn’t yet a part owner of Key West Hand Print. They made her fabrics, she made them famous—the melding of the casual elegance of the Palm Beach country club with the wink and freedom of Key West. By the early ’70s, the fabrics—and Lilly—were retail and media darlings. That’s when Tony Falcone started coming to Key West with his partner, Bill Conkle. They eventually opened a store, Fast Buck Freddie’s, on Key West’s main drag, Duval Street, at a time when many other shops were closing. They tapped into the new, chic money that was just starting to discover Key West, with its fabulous old houses built in its late-19th-century heyday, and supplied housewares for all those renovations. But, in the summer, all business died and, Falcone says, they would not have made it through except for local matriarch Mary Spottswood and Lilly Pulitzer. She would come in and buy everything: wine glasses, placemats and tons of housewares she didn’t need. “She only did it to try and keep us alive,” Falcone says. “She would come in, we had a long table and a big fan chair behind it and then some stools in front of it, and she would just come in and talk to us for hours.” When Lilly was in town, she was part of the crowd, mixing it up with the gay and straight, rich and poor—and in Key West, it’s often hard to tell them all apart. The town went allout for Lilly because her clothing line helped make Key West Hand Print into one of the biggest employers on the island, with 150 people on the payroll. Articles in the local paper regularly gushed about the publicity in the wider world, from a write up in the Florida Development Commission newsletter to—the apogee—a photo on the AP wire that showed Rose Kennedy and her granddaughter, Kathleen, wearing matching Lilly shifts.

LILLY QUEST The Sunshine State has a thriving community of collectors and sellers of vintage Lilly. Retailers say the quality of the garments is a big factor in their market value— Lillys hold up in construction and print if they’ve been cared for properly over the decades. Flamingo scoured the state to find the best Lilly stashes from the ’60s and ’70s. HERE ARE FIVE SHOPS THAT CARRY THE GOOD STUFF:

Dechoes Resale

2110 EDGEWATER DRIVE ORLANDO dechoesresale.com

City Girl Consignment 2900 S. DIXIE HIGHWAY WEST PALM BEACH citygirlconsignment. com

Palm Beach Vintage

3623 S. DIXIE HWY. WEST PALM BEACH palmbeachvintage. com

Second Time Around

801 GEORGE BUSH BLVD. DELRAY BEACH 2tadelray.com

The Church Mouse 378 S. COUNTY ROAD PALM BEACH bbts.org

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Key West is the

essential South Florida

ingredient in the Lilly ethos and empire. The island

freedom to the

added character and Palm Beach class...

LABEL ALLURE Like most things Floridian—especially South Floridian—it didn’t last. In the 1980s, Lilly’s playful line was out of step with the sober times. Working women wanted shoulder pads and dark colors. Dressing up meant Laura Ashley’s pale pastels and flouncy accents. In 1984, Lilly Pulitzer’s company filed for Chapter 11. At the time, she owned 51 percent of Key West Hand Print. Key West Hand Print sold to a local tourist impresario and kept going for a couple of decades—its sign is still on the wall at its final location, an old warehouse on Simonton Street. But Key West Hand Print fabrics are not printed in Key West any more. The pattern library survives, and several former Key West Hand Print designers, including Suzie dePoo’s daughter, Martha dePoo, now design prints for Thatchers’ Fine Timeless Fabric, available at Brunschwig & Fils stores. Lilly’s name came back on a mass-market scale when Sugartown, a Pennsylvania-based company, acquired the line in the early ’90s. It opened shops in resort towns and malls and even launched a collaboration with Target. Not quite as exclusive as the days when you needed to be in Palm Beach or Nantucket—or Key West—to buy a Lilly, but it proves the lasting Opposite: likeability of the Lilly aesthetic Making decades-old Lilly feel grass-fresh, Eve keeps it nonetheless. current with a neutral chunky Durante says the Lilly knit and suede stillettos. look and label have a unique Right: Eve in a vintage Lilly Pulitzer intergenerational appeal. “It’s shift walking her labradoodle, a brand that can be worn Jobi, at historic Flagler College in St. Augustine. by an entire family in one Shopping and styling details: outing, grandmother, mother, Vintage Lilly dress on page grandchild,” she notes. 149 from Elinor Stephens; all other vintage Lilly Nancy Noonan, a West pieces from Nancy Noonan; designer clothing, shoes and Palm Beach aficionado of accessories on pages 144, classic Lillys, used to have 147, 150 and 152 from Emly Benham; sunglasses and retail shops for all sorts of accessories on pages 144 and vintage treasures. 149 from Penelope T; makeup by Jennifer Minchella “I started collecting original

Lillys in 1993, around the time the new company took over, and I began selling them eventually,” says Noonan, who now only markets her classic Lilly threads from the 1960s and ’70s on eBay. “I had the privilege to meet Lilly herself prior to her passing, and she was always happy to come into my shops and see her original designs,” Noonan adds. Like many other twenty-something women, Brianna Trejo of West Palm Beach discovered the joy of mainstream Lilly thanks to the Target collaboration. The clothing’s bold colors and fancy-free styling inspired her to research Lilly’s life. That’s when she developed a much more profound affinity for Lilly’s personality and lifestyle. “She was a free spirit, wanting to do things her way,” Trejo says. The personal hook has turned into a collection of 20 vintage Lilly pieces, acquired mostly on eBay and Etsy. “They were made in Key West and West Palm Beach, and Lilly herself oversaw them and worked closely with the designs and what went into it, what colors and everything,” Trejo says. “She used to run around with no underwear on— that was the whole thing, that you could just be whatever you wanted and wear whatever you wanted.” The ultimate thrill of reinventing yourself, South Florida style, Lilly style, one technicolor dream dress at a time, is not gone.

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- ADVERTORIAL-

Pulitzer’s PRINT MAKER

Key West Artist Suzie dePoo’s Legacy Lives on at Gallery On Greene

ance Frank, owner of Key West’s Gallery On Greene, was 10 years old when she saw a woman on the south side of the island picking up broken bits of bottles on the beach. Frank found it odd and recalls telling her mother the woman must have a “leaky attic”—a term she’d learned to mean mentally unwell. Her mother responded, “Oh no, dear, that’s an artist.”

It was the first time Frank saw Suzie Zuzek dePoo, who will be honored with a posthumous exhibit at the Cooper Hewitt Smithsonian Design Museum in New York City. Titled “Suzie Zuzek for Lilly Pulitzer: The Prints That Made the Fashion Brand,” the show sheds light on the artist who created more than 1,500 textile designs for Lilly Pulitzer, for which she never received recognition during her lifetime.

Born in Buffalo, NY, and educated at the Pratt Institute after serving in World War II, dePoo relocated to Key West with her husband in the 1950s and started working at Key West Hand Print Fabrics—where Pulitzer sourced her textiles—in the early 1960s. Up until the mid-’80s, dePoo rode her bicycle to work, pulling inspiration for her designs from the wildlife and flora she saw during her daily commute: Key deer, seashells, wildflowers, conch shells, hibiscus and so much more. After dePoo spent more than two decades creating the playful and preppy Lilly designs donned by Palm Beach socialites, Frank says, “[The company] decided one day that they had plenty of prints, and they fired her, gave her a pink slip.” While she had created so many signature Lilly patterns, dePoo didn’t wear dainty shift dresses. In her later years, dePoo’s hands were tough from bending wires into the shapes of animals. Her long gray hair was pulled off of her face into a low ponytail. She wore largeframed, 1970s glasses; loose flannel button down shirts; flowing calf-length skirts; and canvas shoes. Bouncing between different mediums and projects, dePoo made works including oil paintings, porcelain plates, mixed media sculptures, glass and wire fixtures, ceramic tiles fastened to wooden panels and so much more. “People would bring her all this stuff,” Frank says of the materials locals dropped off at dePoo’s house for her to incorporate into her art. She kept creating through her 80s, while sitting out on her porch with her animals—22 cats, a few dogs and even peacocks. Her home was on the street behind Gallery On Greene, so Frank stopped by often to bring dePoo lunch or just to see what she was creating. “I saw her almost every day for 20 years. She was my moral compass,” Frank says. dePoo died in 2011 at age 90, and while preserving the artist’s legacy is important

to Frank, she says dePoo didn’t care much about the recognition. Rather, she was a creative without an ego, making art to get lost in the process— never the outcome. “Her whole life was always a struggle, and her art was her escape from reality,” Frank says. Some of dePoo’s prints are in the permanent collection at the MET, and many of her pieces, worth between four and five figures today, can be found at Gallery on Greene. Artwork for sale includes a porcelain plate with a peacock, a mermaid oil painting and a fish shaped from wire incorporating shards of glass, just like the pieces Frank had witnessed dePoo collecting from the beach. “If there is one woman artist who everybody knows as the Key West artist, it was Suzie dePoo,” Frank says. “Nobody else can come close. Her work was ubiquitous because she was prolific.”

Clockwise from left: By Suzie Zuzek dePoo “Familia,” 52 x 36, oil on canvas; “Fish,” 25 x 7 x 3, glass and wire; “Blue Tail Mermaid,” 20 x 7, 2 tiles on wood; “Scarlet Floral,” 20 x 20, 9 tiles on wood

— sunny dispatches from NW FLA —

Panhandling By Pr i s sy E l ro d • I l l u st ra t i o n b y S t ep h en L o m a zzo

A mother’s mark It turns out there is such a thing as a happy childhood

t’s always been my belief you learn what you live and live what you learn. Even so, we all see life through different lenses, which makes us unique. One of three girls, I knew early on my father would have preferred three boys. He gave me the nickname “Prissy” before the ink dried on my birth certificate marking my legal name— Priscilla Monica, the name my mother picked. As the middle child I carried the pleasing gene.

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Only later did I learn it wasn’t a positive attribute. I was a tiny child with oversized eyes and a large smile. They say I started running at 10 months and was potty trained by 11 months. In my earliest years, before puberty, I clung to our housekeeper, Mazelle. My mother wasn’t the mothering type and never cared if I chose Mazelle, or that I begged to spend nights at her small house across town. I loved her lumpy mattress and patchwork quilt. When I spent those nights, she lulled me to

sleep with gospel lyrics and whispered words of affirmation: “You be a sweet girl, yes you be.” When I was a baby, toddler, child and teen, she infused and instilled in me those core values, traits and characteristics one should have to live a harmonious life: empathy, kindness, gratitude, ambition, love and humility. With only a fifth-grade education, she would become the most influential person in my life. I attended a parochial elementary school

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Panhandling

sunny dispatches from NW FLA

run by Irish Catholic nuns. By age 9 I could count on one hand the number of nights I forgot to pray. The nuns convinced this shy, self-conscious and naïve child she would live in purgatory if she missed one night saying all 14 prayers she’d been taught. Should I forget to pray and unexpectedly die, I might even rot in Hell. No worry there, I was a pleaser and obeyed the rules. Plus, I was Sister Conception’s chosen pet. She would flip the headpiece of the habit back and forth when she read to us. Later, I told her I liked watching her do that. One October day she invited me into the nuns’ private residential cottage. “I have a gift for you,” she said. I’d never known anyone who’d been inside the cottage and could barely contain my grin. Boy, was I surprised when I opened the present wrapped in white tissue paper. Inside was a petite black habit and white collar, the exact replica of hers, only in my petite size. “Thank you, Sister.” I was beaming as I slid everything inside my school bag and waved goodbye. That evening I slipped on the contraption and twirled in front of my mirror as I smiled at my reflection. I scrambled out to show my parents my new costume. They were on the porch sipping cocktails. “Look, I’m a nun!” I squealed. I still remember the expression on my mother’s face to this day. Alarm! I wore my gifted habit that Halloween and collected for UNICEF instead of trick-ortreating. When I saw all the candy my sisters collected, I knew I’d made a big mistake. I never wore that habit again. As small beings we are influenced by everyone around us in some shape or form. They are instrumental in who we become.

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BE BRAVE, PRISSY It was May of 2017, a sunshiny Sunday, also Mother’s Day. It should have been a day of celebration. The radio was off, and the airconditioner purred as I traveled slower than the speed limit. I questioned what I was doing, and why. My bloodshot eyes pooled with tears as I concentrated on my breathing. Inhale—hold for five counts—exhale. It had been two hours since I’d left Tallahassee heading west on I-10. I was thirsty, nauseated and spent. Only weeks earlier—on my husband’s birthday—my mother had died from a massive stroke. It was so sudden that I had no time to negotiate with God. Death is a bully and steals your heart. Then grief, the ugly sidekick, takes up residence. That leech mooched away the very essence of me. I wrote and delivered my mother’s eulogy. Afterward, I couldn’t arrange a coherent thought, much less a sentence. Days became weeks as I moved through life dazed, with no desire to ever write again. The strip malls blended into 30A as I approached Seaside, the small resort community on the Gulf of Mexico. I rolled down the window and inhaled the scent of sea air as the gulf breeze brushed my face. Another fresh tear fell to my cheek as I turned into the crowded parking lot across from Bud and Alley’s restaurant. I circled twice and listened to my hypnotic blinker and waited for a parking vacancy. Strangers distract heartache, I told myself. As I glanced at my mirrored image, I wiped the mascara bleed from beneath my eyes and moistened my parched lips. Be brave, Prissy! I repeated three times, then climbed from the car and headed toward registration with trepidation. Confidence trailed so far behind I couldn’t even see the coward. Months earlier, I’d enrolled in the Seaside Writers Conference. It was a week of workshops,

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seminars and readings held at the Seaside Institute’s Academic Village. Family and friends suggested I request a refund after my mother died. I ignored the well-intentioned advice. During the day, poets read poetry and novelists read pages as we listened, engaged with and critiqued each other’s work. We gathered at nights with wine as strangers became friends. It was the third day of a workshop, and an acclaimed journalist was the instructor for our group of nine. Beforehand, she had requested we send a writing sample for her review. Then, we would read said sample to our peers for their feedback. I sent a page from my unpublished manuscript, Chasing Ordinary. The last paragraph read, “…I was transformed to the young girl he once knew. The one who believed—with innocent naivete—bad things happened to others. In those days I was sheltered by a physician father and housewife mother. I believed life was safe, wonderful, and certain, as only a tenderfoot would, before the brutality of life knocked me flat.” The group complimented the page and suggested no changes. Relieved, I sat down as the next participant stood to read. The journalist interrupted, “Rarely do children have happy childhoods; nobody wants to read about someone who did.” A debate ensued between the group and the journalist. The dialogue became muffled noise as I flashed to my past. LIKE MOTHER, LIKE DAUGHTER I was stretched on a frilly coverlet atop a provincial twin bed. My mother walked in carrying a large box and dropped it on the bed next to my bare feet. I turned another page from my newest book, To Kill a Mockingbird, and ignored the intrusion. “Don’t open it, I’ll be back!” I kicked the package further toward the end of my bed. Minutes later my mother returned, carrying a knife, hammer and nails. “Sit up and help me.” “I’m reading,” I quipped. The mouth of a tween—I’d like to slap her (me) with that sassy attitude. Tweens, teens, and attitudes. God bless

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mothers and fathers raising these Lambs of Jesus. Have faith they can become kind beings. Should they not, well, life is sweet and will pay it forward with payback. They may get teenagers one day. My stylish mother looked around the room and chose the most suitable wall, the one next to the only window with a view of the lake. With a nail in her mouth and one in each hand, she lifted the hammer and slammed the first nail against the unmeasured wall. That day, three separate holes pierced our wall on Montgomery Drive. My mother hung her collection of big-eyed paintings by Margaret Keane on each of those nails. When the hammering stopped, I looked up from my book in disbelief. There, above me, hung the faces of three little girls with huge, dejected eyes and spilled tears. Six eyeballs scowled from the framed trio. “Mama, take them down,” I squealed. She didn’t. Not then or ever. My two sisters and I had three new roommates for the rest of our childhood years. I heard my name called and pulled myself back to the present. My instructor handed over my piece with a scribbled compliment on my writing skills. In the margin she wrote, Make your childhood more realistic. In that moment I realized her childhood had been different than mine. Maybe unhappy, like my big-eyed roommates. Only she was now a grown-up. It felt like I knew her, maybe because I had lived with images of those like her. I never considered the big-eyed paintings as the semblance of some unhappy childhood. Not until the journalist called me out. Perhaps it’s why I shield the glare of sadness with

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rose-colored glasses and am a Pollyanna, of a sort. It’s possible Big Eyes influenced me more than I realized and made me kinder and more inclusive of others. I mean, you can’t stare at those faces and not be affected in some way, after so many years. Maybe it’s why I impose humor on others whenever I can, even during times of despair. It makes pain less painful. Humor makes me comfortable in uncomfortable situations. I turned off U.S. Highway 98 and back onto I-10, heading east after the long week. In my stillness, I reflected on my mother’s mothering. She was an anomaly, but one I so loved. Big Eyes seemed small compared to some of her crazier doings. Like when my sisters and I started dating and she suggested to my dad they add an outside door to the bedroom so we could come and go and not wake her up. Or when she flew all the way to London with my sister Gina just to purchase a Yorkie puppy. Before they flew back to the USA, she agreed to take Gina to the theater, only to leave her alone when she discovered it was a musical. My sister still tells the story of taking the Tube back to the hotel at 11 p.m. alone. But the “Burt Reynolds episode” may be the winner. She framed and hung his nude centerfold behind the toilet in our guest bath on Montgomery Drive. She refused to take it down, so Burt watched daddy pee for years. After I was engaged, my future in-laws drove from Tallahassee to Lake City to meet my parents for the first time. I begged my mother to let me take Burt down. “They’ll be using that bathroom, Mama. What will they think of us?” “Why would they care?” she said. Burt watched them pee several times that night, too. Although my mother had idiosyncrasies, her benevolence equaled them in every way. She

supported two of her siblings all their lives and paid for schooling for the impoverished, car repairs for strangers and funerals for friends in despair. She supported more nonprofits than I can count, including many I only discovered after her death. As I drove back to Tallahassee, I captured those reeled Sylvia-isms, featuring my mother, Sylvia LeBlanc Landrum, as leading star. Her liquid memories were mine. I could pour them from my head to my heart whenever I needed. I returned from Seaside replenished and restored. I never did make those changes my instructor suggested. Maybe I should have, maybe not. In the end it was my narrative to write. Memoirs are based on truth—or should be. I was a happy girl and can’t change my story to please another. I shouldn’t have to apologize for being happy. It wasn’t anything I did that made me deserve it. It was because of the wonderful and diverse individuals who nurtured me, collectively. They impacted my life in such a positive way. For that, and them, I am humbly blessed and grateful. As it turned out, I became my own version of quirky. I have two fluffy names and answer to both: I’m “Prissy” to almost everyone and “Sassy” to my grandchildren. I dress bohemian chic with my own wild flair. My hair is longer than it should be, and I seldom answer the phone or return voicemails. Also, I’ve left written instructions that “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen be played at my funeral when the day comes. I’m documenting it here since both my two daughters yelled in unison, “NO, YOU CAN’T HAVE THAT!” Flamingo has printed my wish. I win! Clearly, I am my mother’s daughter. It must be in the genes to become strange(r) as time moves on. The circularity of this life is downright hilarious!

Prissy Elrod is a professional speaker, artist and humorist and the author of Far Outside the Ordinary. She was born and raised in Lake City and now lives in Tallahassee with her husband, Dale. Chasing Ordinary, the sequel to Far Outside the Ordinary, was released in early 2019.

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[ — fin e arts, favor ites, f lings —

ON THE FLY — FLORIDA WILD —

On the panther prowl and the reef beneath

— PLUME —

A down-home look at Deep South dishes

— BIRD’S-EYE VIEW —

The First C oast b e ache s f i ne s t and De l and’s m us t -do’s

— GROVE STAND —

Meet the culinary kings and queens of Florida

— DESIGN DISTRICT —

S ty lish a n d sustai nabl e Suns hi ne St at e s t r uc t ur e s

— FLORIDIANA —

MARY BETH KOETH

Where to find nostalgic Old Florida treasures

This page: Big Cypress National

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Preserve, a prime breeding ground for invasive pythons.

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It’s Time to Hit Our Trails.

Whether it’s hiking a trail, biking a path, meandering a downtown street, or taking a selfie with our “Wings of the West,” there’s always something worth exploring in West Volusia. Right now, our Cool Craft Beverage Trail is at the top of the list. From coffee and smoothies to craft beers, wines and mead, it’s time to get into the “spirit.” as beverage artisans serve up their creations with special offerings and old favorites. Conveniently located between Orlando and Daytona Beach | VisitWestVolusia.com

WINTER 2017

ON THE FLY:PLUME By M i c hae l A d n o • P h o t o g ra p h y b y L i b b y Vo l g y es

White Trash Cooking Revisiting Ernest Matthew Mickler’s seminal cookbook almost 30 years later

rnest “Ernie” Matthew Mickler’s White Trash Cooking was published in the spring of 1986. The book—a 160-page anthology of Southern recipes, stories and photographs— was the result of Mickler’s travels around the South and his upbringing in Palm Valley, a place he described as “a cabbage-palm swamp near St. Augustine.” According to his dear friend Petie Pickette, that’s where “Ernie learned cooking at his mama’s knee.” Born the youngest of four boys in 1940, Mickler grew up next to the former County Road 210 bridge, sandwiched between Papa George’s Fish Camp and the Anchorage Restaurant. Mickler, a gay Southerner, liked to say “White Trash” was separated from “white trash” by pride and manners, making a distinction between uppercase and lowercase versions of the epithet. Mickler earned a bachelor’s degree from Jacksonville University before moving to California to earn a master’s from Mills College.

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After that, he moved to Key West, where he said he met “all of the people that knew what to do to get my cookbook into print.” When first published by the Jargon Society, White Trash Cooking flew off the shelves so quickly that the publisher, unable to meet the demand for the book, sold the rights to Ten Speed Press. Everyone who read it, including Roy Blount Jr., Helen Hayes and J. William Fulbright, fell under its spell. Bryan Miller of The New York Times called it “perhaps the most intriguing book of the 1986 spring cookbook season.” And Harper Lee deemed it “a beautiful testament to a stubborn people of proud and poignant heritage.” With recipes like “Mama Leila’s HandMe-Down Oven-Baked Possum” and “Tutti’s Fruited Porkettes,” paired with his photographs of everyday country life— scenes depicting cans of Ro-Tel and blackeyed peas, and folks sitting on torn-up couches on their front porches—Mickler compiled a vital account of rural cooking and culture in the South. “WHITE TRASH COOKING: It’s a

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dream come true. I can just hear Raenelle and Betty Sue at every Tupperware party in Rolling Fork saying, ‘Ernie went from white trash to WHITE TRASH overnight,’” Mickler wrote in a note penned in Key West in 1985 that appeared at the end of the book. For many, Mickler’s work is comparable to that of fellow Floridian Zora Neale Hurston and worth returning to again and again, to share and celebrate. Two years after White Trash Cooking was published, Mickler’s second title, Sinkin Spells, Hot Flashes, Fits and Cravins came out in the fall of 1988. It’s a more mature, idiosyncratic and regional look at his upbringing in North Florida. On November 15, 1988, one day after the book arrived at bookstores, Mickler died at his home in Moccasin Branch, Florida, from AIDS. Perhaps because of his death, his work has not always attained the kind of critical cachet it deserves. Undoubtedly, White Trash Cooking remains one of the South’s most important contemporary touchstones. And, more than 30 years since its first edition, it remains as honest, funny and poignant as ever.

Miami Punch

Resurrection Cake S e rv e s 1 6 Take one cake mix, your choice. Mix as directed on box. Pour in well-greased cake pan, kind of deep. Over the top, pour a pint of stewed pears or other fruit of your choice. Canned fruit will do fine, but home-canned is best. Then cover the top of the fruit with pats of oleo, or butter, and sprinkle with a good coat of sugar. Stick in oven heated to 350 degrees for 30–40 minutes, or until cake has risen to hide the fruit and is brown. Eat hot with a good strong whiskey sauce.

WHISKEY SAUCE 2 1/2 1 1 1

cups of sugar pound of butter, or 2 sticks teaspoon pure vanilla extract cup of Jack Daniel’s Black Label pinch of salt

PREPARATION: Blend sugar, butter and vanilla until mixed completely. Then add whiskey bit by bit, mixing until it is a nice, loose, creamy sauce. The sugar is supposed to be grainy. Pour over resurrection cake, and it’s guaranteed to resurrect.

Ernie went from white trash to WHITE TRASH overnight.

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—ERNEST MATTHEW MICKLER

3 No. 2 cans orange or tangerine juice, chilled 2 pints vanilla ice cream 1 quart ginger ale, chilled PREPARATION: Pour chilled orange or tangerine juice and ginger ale into punch bowl and mix well. Drop ice cream by the heaping tablespoon into mixture. Stir until ice cream is partially melted. In Miami, that won’t take long.

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ON THE FLY: FLORIDA WILD P H OTOGR APHS & F IELD NOTES B y C ar lton Ward J r.

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Path of the Panther F

or the past five years, I have chased photos of Florida panthers in South Florida swamps as part of my Path of the Panther project, supported by the National Geographic Society. The project aims to elevate the importance of the Florida Wildlife Corridor— the statewide network of public preserves and connected private working lands that the panther and other wildlife need to survive. The results of those years of work were published in the April 2021 issue of National Geographic. The Florida panther is a subspecies of the puma (aka mountain lion) and the last population of these large cats surviving in the eastern United States. After centuries of habitat loss, hunting and persecution, panthers were wiped out of existence east of the Mississippi, other than in the Everglades. Panther numbers fell to as few as 20 in the ’70s, and they landed on the NOTES endangered species list. Through efforts by the Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission, — HABITAT— FLORIDA PANTHER landowners and partners, the panther population NATIONAL WILDLIFE has rebounded to nearly 200 and is poised at the REFUGE brink of recovery—if we can save enough land. To be considered recovered, the panther population must triple, which means the breeding range must — SEASON — SUMMER expand throughout the state and beyond. To capture photos of panthers, which I have only seen twice in the wild with my own eyes, I rely on — TIME OF DAY— camera traps: professional cameras and flashes EVENING set up on game trails. When a panther breaks an invisible infrared beam, it takes its own picture. At — SUBJECT— least that’s how it should work. Even in my best FLORIDA PANTHER locations, a panther would pass my camera only once a month, perhaps once every two months facing the camera, and only a few times a year in daylight. Then the camera system has to work at the exact moment, which may only happen once a year. In one case, it took five years. Our team has cameras throughout the Florida Wildlife Corridor, on public preserves and cattle ranches, as well as wildlife underpasses under highways. One of the most challenging and important panther habitats is the deep swamp of the Fakahatchee Strand. No puma habitat like it exists in America. The panther’s ability to persevere in this remote, watery wilderness, beyond the reach of people, is in large part why they exist today. To capture this photo, I found an old logging trail in the Fakahatchee Strand that floods every wet season. Depending on water levels, traversing panthers must wade or swim. When this photo appeared on the back of the camera, after three years of trying, with America’s most endangered cat neck-deep in the swamp, I knew we had an image that captured the resilience of this animal. Hopefully it challenges us to keep working to ensure its survival.

26°11’14.6504” N

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81°21’0.9903” W

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WINTER 2016

ON THE FLY: FLORIDA WILD P H OTOGR APHS & F IELD NOTES b y C a rl t o n Wa rd Jr.

Reef at Loggerhead Key

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oggerhead Key in Dry Tortugas National Park is about as far out as you can go without leaving Florida. It is positioned at the tip of the Florida Reef, the third-largest coral barrier reef in the world, and lies between the Gulf of Mexico to the north, the Straits of Florida to the south, and Key West 70 miles to the east, only a few miles closer than Havana. The west side of Loggerhead Key offers protection from easterly winds and waves, and the leeward reef is shallow enough to allow one to attempt split-level photography with views above and beneath the surface. Before finally capturing this photo, I tried (unsuccessfully) for two days, swimming against strong currents and side shore winds that stirred turbid waters. Then, on day three, the conditions calmed, and I swam back out to the reef to experience this scene. I set the exposure for the evening light above the horizon and adjusted an underwater flash to illuminate the corals in the foreground. The health and beauty of the corals in this photo are unfortunately not the norm for the Florida Reef. Coral reefs are in bad shape in the Upper Keys, where runoff from development and pollution are leading causes of catastrophic decline (and warming seas). Dry Tortugas reefs are faring much better. Even there, though, corals are not out of harm’s way, their fragility reminding us that all life is connected to the oceans and what we do on land affects everything.

24°37’58.87” N

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82°55’14.6413” W

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ON THE FLY:BIRD’S-EYE VIEW A G U I D E TO O U R FAVO R I T E N E I G H B O R H O O DS

first coast fling

Where to hang from Ponte Vedra Tee times to Jax Beach Breaks

Above from left: TPC Sawgrass and the 17th hole, Ponte Vedra Inn & Club, Jacksonville Beach water tower,

Jacksonville Beach lifeguard station and The North Beach Fish Camp

Start the day at the home of The Players Championship by tackling the course and its famous island green, then retire to the clubhouse for a BLT with a view. 110 Championship Way, Ponte Vedra

2. MCFLAMINGO

The only place where lentils, cauliflower and broccoli feel like an indulgent treat 880 A1A N., Ponte Vedra

3. MODELCITIZEN

Find an OOTD for a date night or a day on the beach at this upscale ladies shop. 330 A1A N., Ponte Vedra

4. PONTE VEDRA INN & CLUB

Lounge like a local on miles of pristine beach at this iconic resort with a nostalgic

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flare or take advantage of the world-class tennis, golf and spa amenities. 200 Ponte Vedra Blvd., Ponte Vedra

5. BLUE JAY LISTENING ROOM

Storytelling, song and good cheer collide inside this intimate live music venue. 2457 3rd St. S., Jax Beach

6. PENELOPE T

Step up your style with emerging and established designers and Florida makers available at this it-girl go-to. 2400 3rd St. S., Jax Beach

7. SAILORS SIREN

This mother-daughter-helmed home and gift shop stocks goodies guided by the pair’s sun, sea and salt lifestyle. 415 3rd St. S., Jax Beach

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8. JAX BEACH BRUNCH HAUS

The owner of this vegan-friendly spot isn’t just proficient at handling hotcakes, he also tickles the ivories and sings on the weekends. 610 3rd St. S., Jax Beach

9. TACOLU

Tacos and tequila take center stage at this beloved staple named after the owners’ daughter. The Mexican street corn is a must. 1712 Beach Blvd., Jax Beach

10.CINOTTI’S BAKERY

Don’t let the line dissuade you—the decadent donuts, cakes and pastries from this bakery are worth the wait. 1523 Penman Road, Jax Beach

11. BREWHOUND DOG PARK & BAR Corgis and craft brews abound at this

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ILLUSTR ATION BY LESLIE CHALFONT

1. TPC SAWGRASS

outdoor dog park. Let your four-legged friend unleash adventure while you sip on local lattes and lagers. 1848 Kings Circle S., Jax Beach

classics like pina coladas and inventive originals like the Lemon Bar Freeze. 2 Lemon St., Neptune Beach

12. JACKSONVILLE BEACH PIER

Florida’s seasonal bounty transforms into sophisticated new American cuisine in the hands of lauded chef Christopher Polidoro. 106 First St., Neptune Beach

Pick a spot on the sand to watch the area’s fiercest surfers in action or paddle into the lineup with them (and their toothy friends). 503 1st St. N., Jax Beach

13. SOUTHERN GROUNDS & CO.

Whether you’re looking for the area’s best grab-and-go cup of joe or a cozy spot to read, this local coffeehouse satisfies both. 200 First St., Neptune Beach

14. LEMON BAR & GRILLE

Tucked behind the old Seahorse Oceanfront Inn, this popular beach bar serves up coastal

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15. DORO

17. THE NORTH BEACH FISH CAMP

Soak in the second-story view of Neptune Beach over a five-star seafood feast. 100 First St., Neptune Beach

16. ONE OCEAN RESORT & SPA

Drift into a seaside slumber at this oceanfront resort. With an upscale eatery and full-service spa, there’s no need to take off your slippers. 1 Ocean Blvd., Atlantic Beach

18. JAX SURF & PADDLE

Stocked to the brim with effortlessly cool gear and clothing, this surf shop will have you looking like a bona-fide sun bum. 241 Atlantic Blvd., Neptune Beach

19. T-DUB’S

What appears on its face to be a carefully curated men’s clothing store has an unassuming bar nestled in the back that comes alive after the sun sets. 299 Atlantic Blvd., Atlantic Beach

20. ROYAL PALM VILLAGE WINE & TAPAS

The wine selection here literally overflows, with more than 1,200 bottles stacked floor to ceiling. Select a vintage from the shelves, and don’t skimp on the tapas—trust us. 296 Royal Palms Drive, Atlantic Beach

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SPRING 2020

ON THE FLY:BIRD’S-EYE VIEW A G U I D E TO O U R FAVO R I T E N E I G H B O R H O O DS

A darling day out

Where to eat, shop, explore and soar in historic deland

Above from left: Athens Theatre, DeLand Wings mural, Stetson Mansion, Volusia County Historic Courthouse and a Skydive DeLand plane

The storied building has been a vaudeville theatre, movie palace and video game room in its past lives, but now it’s restored to its former glory as a stage for local productions, concerts and lectures. 124 N. Florida Ave.

2. SANTORINI GREEK CUISINE

There’s a reason you’ll always see a crowd outside this incredibly authentic Greek eatery. Arrive early to grab one of the few tables inside and enjoy the best gyros, moussaka and spanakopita in the state. 136 N. Woodland Blvd.

3. DELAND WINGS

You’ll have to journey off the beaten path to find this Instagram-worthy mural by local artist Erica Group, but it’s well worth the detour. Hint: look in the alley behind No. 13 on the list. Persimmon Lane

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4. SKYDIVE DELAND

Thrill-seekers from around the world flock here to this skydive training capital of the world. Free fall over scenic downtown DeLand or grab a seat at the on-site restaurant and observation deck to watch the jumpers. 1600 Flightline Blvd.

5. BOSTON COFFEEHOUSE

With its exposed brick interior, delicious breakfast menu and hidden garden in the back, this cozy coffee shop is the perfect place to start your weekend. Tip: Order the Yankee Doodle. 109 E. New York Ave.

6. SPEC MARTIN MEMORIAL STADIUM

Watch the Stetson Hatters and the DeLand Bulldogs football teams punt and tackle under the Friday night lights at this stadium, the same one that Adam Sandler plays on in the 1998 film The Waterboy. 260 E. Euclid Ave.

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7. CHICAS CUBAN CAFE

This cafe is nestled inside the historic Artisan Hotel. Don’t fill up on croquettes until you’ve tried the signature Chicas chicken. 215 S. Woodland Blvd.

8. PERSIMMON HOLLOW BREWING CO. Drink sensibly but get a little weird at this downtown brewery with quirky flavors like the Daytona Dirty Blonde and the Tipsy Friar. 111 W. Georgia Ave.

9. SHELLSEA

From trendy boots to hair accessories, this chic boutique on the main drag will keep you in step with all the latest trends. 121 N. Woodland Blvd.

10. STETSON MANSION

Wander around the luxurious estate of famous hat magnate John B. Stetson. It’s the only Gilded Age mansion in Florida. 1031 Camphor Lane

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ILLUSTR ATION BY LESLIE CHALFONT

1. ATHENS THEATRE

Walking on ON THE FLY:BIRD’S-EYE VIEW SUNSHINE

A WA L K I N G G U I D E TO O U R FAVO R I T E N E I G H B O R H O O DS

ager to plan a day trip but don’t know where to start? Dive into our carefully curated collection of Bird’s-Eye View maps showcasing some of Florida’s most charming Explore our favorite spots in this quaint Beach town hangouts, off Sarasota, small towns, breezy beaches and historic along with a brimming with Cozy cafes, live music and loads of local charm handful of shops, eateries and attractions at each destination.

not so sleepy Siesta

1: SIESTA KEY OYSTER BAR

The locals’ favorite for fresh oysters, innovative cuisine and cool cocktails 5238 Ocean Blvd.

2: BIG OLAF CREAMERY

Hand mixed ice creams and yogurts made by local Amish craftsmen 5208 Ocean Blvd. Ocean Blvd.

3: THE COTTAGE

Prepared by foodies, for foodies, with inventive offerings inspired by a variety of food cultures 153 Avenida Messina

4: DAVIDSON DRUGS

A local landmark and one-stop shop for pharmaceutical needs, including home health equipment, nutritional products, and medications 5124 Ocean Blvd.

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5: OLD SALTY DOG

This dog-friendly spot serves favorites like shrimp and its signature hot dog. 5023 Ocean Blvd.

SPEARFISH GRILL 9.

6: SUN GARDEN CAFÉ

Cozy atmosphere with healthy and hearty breakfast or lunch made with the finest local ingredients 240 Avenida Madera

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7: THE BEACH CLUB

Hike, bike and fish at this secluded island on Live themusic, St. Johns River. food, and drinks located in the heart of the Siesta Village Be on the lookout for remnants from the original Mayaca Native 5151 Ocean Blvd. American inhabitants, including a 10-foot owl totem pole. 2309 River Ridge Road 8: MORTON’S SIESTA MARKET

12. DE LA VEGA

Siesta Key’s go-to market, with fresh groceries you can have delivered right to your door Canal Road dishes exceptional205 Latin fusion

Chef Nora De La Vega serves up at this charming downtown restaurant. Snag9:a LELU seat COFFEE on the LOUNGE patio and sip on sangria while you people-watch. Local favorite tropical Cuban-style coffee house serving breakfast and 128 N. Woodland Blvd.

13. SIDECAR HOME MARKET

lunch daily 5251 Ocean Blvd.

Is it a bar? Is it a vintage furniture store? Both! Browse repurposed furnishings and goods by Florida artisans like FinchBerry soaps and Rifle Paper Co., all with cocktail in hand. 112 a FLAMINGOMAG.COM 100 S. Woodland Blvd.

14. RODEO WHIP

This family-owned ice cream shop has been around since 1983, and the homemade swirls often draw a drive-thru line that circles the building. Insider’s tip: order the small; the scoops are huge. 1250 S. Woodland Blvd.

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10: SPEARFISH GRILL

tackle shop with boat rentals, fishing charters Turning out quality interpretations of classic and jet skis dishes, as well as creative island food and 1249 Stickney Point Road fresh Anna local fish Maria Island Naples St. Augustine 1265 OldS Stickney ON THE u m m e r 2Point 0 1 6 Road S u m m e r12: 2 0OPHELIA’S 18 S p r iBAY ng 2018 Where Sarasota’s discerning palates go for 11: CB’SCoral SALTWATER OUTFITTERS waterfront fine dining, situated on Little Gables Palm Beach St. Petersburg Siesta Key’s largest on-the-water bait and Sarasota Bay 9105 Midnight Pass Road

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Fernandina Beach

Siesta Key

Tampa

Spring 2016

Winter 2018

Summer 2019

Flagler Village

South Beach

Winter Park

Winter 2019

Spring 2019

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Mount Dora

Wynwood

Spring 2017

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ILLUSTR ATION: LESLIE CHALFONT

11. HONTOON ISLAND STATE PARK

Come see us April 8-10, 2022 at the Word of South Festival for one of America’s most unique celebrations of music and literature, located in Tallahassee, Florida.

Allison Moor

Don't miss this event featuring Jamey Johnson and his band, the poet David Kirby, the singer John Kurzweg and a host of other authors and musicians! Stay tuned to our website for upcoming festival details: WordOfSouthFestival.com

April 8-10, 2022 Tallahassee, Florida

WordofSouthFestival.com

ON THE FLY: GROVE STAND SEASON’S EATINGS B y E ri c B a rt o n

Don’t Call It A Comeback

although we were all worried about our favorite chefs, we’re glad to report many of them are thriving, thinking about expanding and generally doing just fine, thank you

This page: Ahi

MICHAEL PISSARI

tuna salad from Chef Brandon McGlamery

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ON THE FLY: GROVE STAND SEASON’S EATINGS

here’s a moment when you sit down at a restaurant, with the music just below the din of clinked glasses and conversation, the fluffed pillow behind your back, linen napkin on your lap, when your singular focus turns to that moment. “Here,” the server says, “try this new Rioja we just got in, and wait until you hear about the snapper special.” For those of us who make a hobby out of dining out, it’s a special moment. “Good to see you again,” the passing manager says, and the chef nods from the kitchen, remembering how last time you made a point to compliment her cassoulet on the way out. We had far fewer of those moments this past year, many of our best meals instead arriving in Styrofoam or made on our own stovetops. But these days a whole lot more of us are venturing out, even in some cases booking up those favorite restaurants, maybe more so than before. Thank the ghost of Julia Child because we were worried for you for a while, chefs. To see just how things are going in Florida’s restaurant industry, we checked in with a few of our favorites: chefs we’ve written about these past five years and a couple of new rising stars, including an up-and-comer out of Miami doing some of the most creative cooking around—without actually cooking. Above: Valerie and Nando Chang in front of their

Valerie Chang

C h ef at I tam ae

Maybe it was the New York Times Magazine that ruined it for us, those of us who knew the secret of the little Peruvian Nikkei sushi place that was serving up the most creative dishes inside a food hall in Miami. “Itamae is a study in balance: Contrasting

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flavors, textures and temperatures come the courtyard, under the dappled shade of alive,” Evan Benn wrote in the Times, and coconut palms. With no heaters for chilly then instantly everyone knew. winter nights, no AC for the rest of the year The two chefs, sister and brother duo and no overhang for Miami’s inconsistent rain, Valerie and Nando Chang, suddenly needed you might think the weather would have hurt to expand. They spent more than a year business, but even when it was near freezing picking the perfect spot, finding it just across or blazing hot, those 10 tables still filled the courtyard in the Design up. “Surprisingly, yes, people still District. They planned to do an come,” she laughs. ITAMAE omakase menu, meaning sushi Without an actual kitchen, the — LOCATION — would be served piece by piece siblings also figured out how to 140 NE 39TH ST. #136 to customers sitting inches away pull together a menu using just an MIAMI from the chef and sometimes induction burner. They came up with — HOURS — SUN–THURS: 12 P.M.–6 P.M. each other, in a space of just 600 dishes that are at least as creative as FRI–SAT: LUNCH 12 P.M.–3:45 P.M. square feet. the ones they did over in the food DINNER 5 P.M.–8:45 P.M. Then, yeah, 2020 made hall, like their take on a Caesar salad: itamaemiami.com customers sitting inches away little islands of iceberg lettuce with seem like a bad idea. Their new flying fish roe, ikura, breadcrumbs restaurant, as big as a walk-in closet, had no and a dressing with the umami punch of the space for tables. Or a kitchen: They have no Japanese fungus koji. The dish looks as pretty as stove or fryer, just the sushi counter. So they a Japanese rock garden and tastes like nothing pivoted, in a pretty huge way. else, just pure inspiration. (When Chang hears Instead, 29-year-old Valerie Chang says that I liked it, she says, “Oh thank you! You they make do with 10 tables spread out in had it?” Yes, twice, actually.)

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K ARLI EVANS, FUJIFILMGIRL, MARY BETH KOETH

restaurant in Miami’s Design District.

Torrejitas de Choclo (Peruvian Corn Fritters) Makes 10 3/4

cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

5 pounds yellow corn masa 28 ounces evaporated milk 5 tablespoons and 1 teaspoon chives, minced 3 tablespoons salt 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder 9 eggs PREPARATION: Crack the eggs, whisk and strain through a chinois. Break up masa in a stand mixer with paddle attachment. Add evaporated milk slowly. Add eggs. Once combined, add salt, baking powder and chives. Rest mixture for 30 minutes. Spray an arepa maker (you can use a Silver Dollar pancake maker if you don’t have an arepa maker) with nonstick spray. Cook mixture for 2 1/2 minutes on one side, then flip and cook the other side for 30 seconds to 1 minute. Torrejitas should not be too brown. Make sure they are set. Once ready, deep fry for one minute on each side. Serve with your favorite leche de tigre, butter or aioli. — Valerie Chang

va l e r i e c h a n g d i s h

Below: Chang’s Peruvian

corn fritters

Above: Itamae’s

tiradito apaltado

This success, without space heaters, is just the start. The Changs are adding a dedicated dinner menu and brunch. They’ve also got dreams of other locations, maybe elsewhere in Florida. Chang already knows what that’ll be, Peruvian soul food, inspired by the cooking of her grandmothers. She grew up in the surfer town of Chiclayo, and so when she thinks of

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grandma’s cooking, it’s pickles and beans from her mother’s side and “the best chaufa,” a Peruvian fried rice, from her abuela on her dad’s side. She’s been telling friends about her idea. “People say, ‘You don’t know how to cook soul food,’ and I’m like, ‘Yes I do. What do you mean? I only cook with my soul.’” Yes, she most certainly does.

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ON THE FLY: GROVE STAND SEASON’S EATINGS

Niven Patel

C h e f a t Mam ey a nd G h e e

Niven Patel was excited last we talked. He was planning a get-together, a socially distanced, pandemic-responsible party at his farm. “It has been too long,” he says, “since I’ve been able to do this.” Out at the farm he runs in Homestead, which supplies his two restaurants with a whole lot of produce, he would host friends and family and investors. The farm has a wood-fired grill he built himself, and he’d have it roaring. “That wood oven is a monster,” he says. “I can fit a 50 [to] 60-pound pig in there.” For the party at his farm, he’d be testing dishes he’s been dreaming up for his third restaurant, Orno, coming sometime this year. The idea is a farm-to-table menu, like he’s done at his other restaurants, but his new place will be centered around grills burning real wood. He’ll have several cuts of steak, whole fish and a whole lot of roasted vegetables. Can you imagine heirloom carrots, tomatoes and cabbage coming straight out of the soil and into the oven? The cabbage especially, he says, is a vegetable that’s underrated. “I’m very excited about it,” Patel says. That party on the farm in early February

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would be Patel’s first time picking up his head, industry: he gives the cooks who work for looking around and thinking about what’s next. him basic recipes, but then it’s up to them Up until then, for the past year, he’d been in to experiment, to change a dish if, say, the survival mode. At the beginning plantains are a bit starchy today of the pandemic, he’d lost his or the jalapenos hotter than Design District outpost of Ghee. usual. Nobody does it that way, GHEE INDIAN KITCHEN After that, he poured his energy but it’s just Niven, thinking the — LOCATION — into ensuring the original Ghee in way nobody else does. 8965 SW 72ND PLACE Dadeland and the Coral Gables In addition to the big KENDALL restaurant he opened in the oven on his farm, Patel has a — HOURS — TUES–SUN: LUNCH 12 P.M.–2:30 P.M. height of the lockdown, Mamey, collection of smaller woodTUES–SUN: DINNER 5 P.M.–9 P.M. would survive. fired contraptions: a Japanese CLOSED MONDAY In 2020, Patel says he went grill and stainless steel ones he gheemiami.com back to the way he operated brought back from a trip to when he opened his first India. Sometimes, he’ll remove restaurant. Instead of thinking constantly about smoldering coals from the big oven and what’s next and expanding, he concentrated add them to the smaller ones. The fires only on quality control, and only when he had from the main oven power the others, all the two kitchens dialed in did he turn again to of them roaring and ready, finally burning his new concept. bright again. “It’s our time to throw a lot of darts in the dark and see what works and what doesn’t,” he says. “It’s refreshing to just be able to do that and escape from survival mode, you know?” Two years ago, when Flamingo first talked to Patel, he told us about his grandmother warning him about culinary school: “What girl is ever going to marry you?” He talked about shucking oysters for one of his first jobs, even though he’s allergic to shellfish. He talked about working his way up here and in the Keys, about starting a farm-totable Indian restaurant, Ghee, in Dadeland, serving vegetables he grew himself. Along the way he’s done something exceedingly rare for his

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COURTESY OF MAME Y

This page: Carabiñeros

shrimp from Mamey

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ON THE FLY: GROVE STAND SEASON’S EATINGS

By xx x x x x x • P h o t o g ra p h y b y x x x x x x

Brandon McGlamery

Chef and Partner at Prato

and Luke’s Kitchen and Bar

Brandon McGlamery took a trip to Austin earlier this year, his first venture out of the state in a long while. He ate really well there, he explains. That wasn’t a surprise, considering it’s such a well-known food town, but what did come as a revelation was how different the food was from Florida. It wasn’t that Austin’s cooking was better. It wasn’t more sophisticated, McGlamery explains, because Floridians are certainly welltraveled, well-versed in what defines a good dish. It was something else, he says, struggling to put his finger on it. Overly composed? Just simply too much? Diners in Florida, he’s come to realize, like a dish that highlights good, simple ingredients. The way it should be, McGlamery says. Scan through McGlamery’s Instagram and you’ll see examples, like the Rhode Island fluke that he balanced carefully with pomegranate and mint so you could still taste the delicate fish. At Luke’s, the specials highlight the season, like a spring vegetable and endive salad they serve with aged cheddar, sunflower seeds, preserved lemons and a buttermilk dressing light enough that it doesn’t overpower the veggies. Or, at Prato, there’s the olive oil cake they top with orange crema, fresh strawberries and a drizzle of olive oil—high-quality ingredients balanced

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so that each one hits you. was still doing well, and so closing it over a It’s like that even more nowadays, disagreement with the landlord stung. “Losing McGlamery says. As we all venture out, Luma was a blow, but that wasn’t us, that “people are going to want really good wasn’t our fault.” He’s still got his other two food and simple stuff they can relate to,” spots, Prato in Winter Park and Luke’s in he adds. They’ll also, more than ever, Maitland, but this year he’s going to spend a want the experience of a night out, not lot of time thinking about what’s next. Lately, a counter-service quick meal but a wellhe’s been pondering an opening in the towns paced one, with theatrics, that counts as where he grew up, Naples and St. Petersburg, not just sustenance but a leisurely considering even relocating to get it distraction to everything else in going. He and his wife, though, can’t our lives. quite picture leaving Winter Park, PRATO “When we’re fully out of this, a “little bubble of great people that — LOCATION — people are going to have that desire just happens to be in the middle of 124 N. PARK AVE. WINTER PARK again to be entertained. You look Central Florida.” — SERVING — at dining out. It’s entertainment. For now, until he’s found that LUNCH AND DINNER Dining out will be the prize, the perfect new spot, he’s sinking his prato-wp.com thing they desire again.” energy into the one thing he says I first visited McGlamery five makes or breaks a place—making years ago, and he talked about his sure his two spots are putting out culinary upbringing, working for Alice Waters great, consistent food every day, like the and Thomas Keller before heading to Europe piled-high burgers at Luke’s, or the roasted to work for Guy Savoy and Gordon Ramsay. cauliflower with snap pea verde or butternut Working in kitchens with Michelin-starred squash ravioli at Prato. He’s also undeniably chefs helped prepare him for a random call in positive about the future of the restaurant 2005 to come to Winter Park to open Luma industry in our fair state. on Park. The job was only supposed to last He says, with an optimism that’s totally six weeks. contagious, “I think that’s the only way you In September, he closed Luma on Park, can look at it. If you sit there and you’re doom ending a 15-year run after he was unable and gloom, nothing positive comes out of that. to negotiate a new lease. The toughest part If you have a positive outlook, you’re going to about it might have been that the place have a positive outcome.”

Sugar Snap Pea & Spring Onion Soup S e rv e s 4 – 6 2 ounces butter

1/2

pound spring onion, sliced thin

1/2

pound sugar snap peas, cut 1/4” thin

1 ounce garlic clove 2 ounces potato, peeled, sliced very thin 1

tablespoon kosher salt

ounce mint leaves

1/2

4 cups water

MICHAEL PISSARI

Opposite page: A fresh, seasonal salad from Luke’s Kitchen and Bar Above: Scallop crudo with jalapeno broth, mint and cucumber

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1/2

cup heavy cream

PREPARATION: Sweat the onion and garlic in the butter, making sure not to color. When softened, after about 10 minutes, add the potato and water and bring to a simmer. When potato is cooked, bring to a rapid boil, add the sugar snap peas and boil for one minute. Add the mint leaves and very quickly transfer to food processor in small batches. Puree and then transfer to an “ice shocking system” (set pot on top of ice to quickly cool it down). Season for taste and keep very cold. Can be done a day in advance. — Brandon McGlamery

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THAI GREEN CURRY FISH DIP S e rv e s 4 – 5

GREEN CURRY PASTE 1/2

cup onion, diced

1/2

cup lemongrass, chopped

1/2

cup ginger root, grated

8 cloves garlic 1 cup basil, chopped 1 cup cilantro, chopped 3 red Thai bird chiles, sliced 1

jalapeno pepper, chopped

1/3

cup fish sauce

1/3

cup lime juice

1/2

tablespoon curry powder

1/2

tablespoon ground cumin

1/2

tablespoon ground coriander

1/2

tablespoon brown sugar

PREPARATION: Place all ingredients into a food processor and puree until as smooth as possible. Set aside.

THAI GREEN CURRY FISH DIP

1 pound cream cheese, softened 1/2 cup mayonnaise 4 tablespoons green curry paste 24 ounces baked whitefish (such as grouper, snapper, halibut, walleye or perch), chopped Salt and pepper PREPARATION: Place cream cheese, mayo and curry paste into a food processor. Blend until smooth and place in a mixing bowl. Stir in fish. Season with salt and pepper. — Steve Phelps

he streamlined and recrafted his menu into dishes that travel well, looking and tasting as good at home as if they’d been delivered by a restaurant’s food-runner. The dining room is also busy nowadays, and Phelps can just feel it, that optimism. “We’ve got our floaties on, so we’re not sinking,” he says. “We’re going to be OK.”

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COURTESY OF INDIGENOUS

outside the 82-year-old cracker cottage that holds his restaurant, wearing a short-sleeved button-down and cargo shorts, checking on a customer’s Parmesan beignets with smoked cobia belly. “Aren’t we lucky it turned out to be such a beautiful night?” he said back then, talking about how lucky he was to serve people the food he makes and marveling at the late-afternoon light that filters into his restaurant. He talked about playing hockey at Ohio State, his dreams of becoming an orthopedic surgeon and how that all changed the day a reporter complimented the food he had made while working at his uncle’s restaurant. He’s learned a lot this past year, especially the importance of constant innovation, and Steve Phelps Phelps is optimistic that continuing this Chef and Owner at Indigenous new way of business will ensure Indigenous comes back stronger than ever in 2021. In the restaurant industry, the humble line For Phelps, creativity doesn’t mean dishes chef is generally the grunt, the maker of that are overly chef-y. Consider specials like salads, the maintainer of the grill station, his cobia hot dog with ballpark mustard and charged not with creativity but consistency. sauerkraut, or the fish sando with “hyperThat’s changed these days at local” grouper, topped with Sarasota’s Indigenous. pickled pineapple, smoked garlic The line chefs show up aioli, slaw and Florida barbecue INDIGENOUS nowadays and Steve Phelps sauce that drips everywhere. — LOCATION — 239 S. LINKS AVE. gives them a challenge: come His cooking is complicated SARASOTA up with something new this and something you probably — HOURS — week, something we’ve never couldn’t do at home, but at TUES–SAT: 5:30 P.M.–8:30 P.M. CLOSED SUNDAY, MONDAY done before. the same time approachable, indigenoussarasota.com It’s a novel idea for Phelps, recognizable and enticing. Case and the product of this last in point: the nachos he tops year, where restaurants were with lionfish, guac, crema and forced to switch to mostly takeout and jalapenos—they look like what you had figure out a way to lure customers back watching the game but better, fresher, tastier. week after week. Phelps figured out the When the restaurant business changed secret to getting them back was innovation, a year ago, Phelps admits his takeout game promoting something new that people need was inconsistent, but he’s figured it out to come back and try. now. Indigenous went left when a lot of When we first wrote other restaurants went right; while a lot of about Phelps back in fine-dining restaurants were adding trays of Opposite: A creative 2016, we found him penne and lasagna, Phelps believes people seafood dish from Indigenous working the crowd can make that stuff at home. So instead

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ON THE FLY: GROVE STAND SEASON’S EATINGS

desserts many of us know from our childhoods with flavors you wouldn’t expect, like lemongrass in a creme brulee and Persian saffron ice cream with rose water on a toffee date cake. “I just like to take what we know, you know, the things that are familiar, and add some crazy twist,” she says. The James Beard Foundation named Gould as a semifinalist in February 2020, and she says the attention it brought her—newspaper articles, customers congratulating her, all those write-ups online—was a total surprise. Then the pandemic hit, and she thought her skills wouldn’t be needed as much, figuring that in rough times, people would stop spending

money on dessert, something she assumed was just a luxury. Instead, business picked up during the pandemic. Gould came to realize people craved a slice of her sticky coconut cassava cake more than ever. They wanted, maybe needed, the comfort that comes from opening a box holding her coconut cream meringue layer cake. It was then that she realized what she does could provide people joy on a dark day. “It’s always special baking for someone,” Gould says. “But I guess it was even more so this past year. People wanted the sense of comfort you get from a dessert.”

Sylvia Gould

P as try che f a t K ool Be a nz C a f e

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MARK WALLHEISER

Two women had very different influences on Sylvia Gould when she was a child. First was her mother, whose Vietnamese heritage meant Gould defined home cooking as the taste of lemongrass, ginger and basil. Then, on the opposite end of the culinary spectrum from pho and rice pancakes, there was the inspiration of her grandmother, who KOOL BEANZ lived on a farm in Michigan CAFE and made desserts, cakes, fruit — LOCATION — pies and cookies from scratch. 921 THOMASVILLE ROAD TALLAHASSEE “My grandma would make — SERVING — German anise cookies called BRUNCH, LUNCH AND DINNER springerle that were pillows koolbeanz-cafe.com with crisp outsides, rolled out with a special rolling pin that had designs on it that would imprint into the cookies,” she says. “The rolling pin was used specifically for these cookies. The rolling pin always fascinated me along with strong anise that perfumed the square cookies.” You’ll now taste both of those influences in Gould’s desserts at Tallahassee’s Kool Beanz Cafe. She likes to combine the

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INTERNATIONAL

ON THE FLY: DESIGN DISTRICT By Nan Kavanaugh

The Sweet Spot Sustainability meets sophistication in the hands of Todd Sweet and Jerry Sparkman, who are forging the future of Sarasota architecture by honoring its past.

grand live oak stretches its lumbering branches across a courtyard in Lido Key. It creates a canopy that reaches out to a contemporary structure composed of bright white walls and sharp angles. The tree seeps Old Florida from every crevice of its weathered trunk. Yet nestled near an angular modern building, the oak takes

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on a new, ephemeral, abstract quality, poised like a living sculpture on view. This synthesis of nature with abstract forms and clean lines is the essence of Florida modernism. In the 1950s, graduates from some of the nation’s most prestigious architecture schools saw Florida as a playscape ripe for booming development.

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SWEET SPARKMAN

Ralph Twitchell and Paul Rudolph first came to Sarasota in the 1940s and were soon joined by a pack of brilliant architects including Tim Seibert, Victor Lundy, Jack West and Gene Leedy. Together they gave rise to a regional style of architecture now known as the Sarasota School of Architecture or Sarasota Modern. They were influenced by the early-20thcentury Bauhaus movement, combined with the modernist mindset that nature should be revered in an increasingly industrialized world. Spearheading a new type of architecture that brought the outside in, they created a lifestyle where respite was found without compromising aesthetics. The legacy of their extraordinary work continues to nourish residents and visitors alike across the area. Today, one Sarasota firm stands out as the force carrying this iconic design mantle forward with projects along Florida’s Gulf Coast, from Englewood to Bradenton. Sweet Sparkman Architecture & Interiors is led by co-founders Todd Sweet and Jerry Sparkman, whose private and public works have helped preserve and define the region’s character. Infusing their own style with a respect for the past, the firm inspires a more conscious future of Florida living. “The ideal Florida lifestyle is the opportunity to blend architecture, landscape design and interiors as one comprehensive design challenge. The environment lends itself to blurring the distinction between outside and inside,” Sparkman says. Sparkman’s background in landscape architecture shapes

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Opposite: The Binnacle house This page from top: The Boathouse; the Siesta Key Park and Pavilion

his design ethos when approaching residential Sparkman also look to 21st-century firms, projects. Covered outdoor “rooms” that are like Texas-based Lake Flato, which are integrated into the architecture of a home taking a creative, cutting-edge approach to provide both shade, one of Florida’s most sustainability necessary to meet the moment. valuable commodities, and beautiful spaces “There are a few firms that we really admire beloved by their clients. in practice, how they are able to capture a Sweet Sparkman’s appreciation for the modern vernacular unique to their location,” Sarasota School is Sweet says. “That best reflected in is what we are many of its public trying to do, not projects along the just regurgitate the Gulf Coast. The Sarasota School, partners sought but modernize it guidance from for our time.” iconic architect Sweet describes Tim Seibert in their resiliency as one revising of Siesta Key of the greatest – Todd Sweet Park and Pavilion, drivers of a project Seibert and Jack West completed for innovation at leading architecture firms today. the city in 1960. Today, the firm is in the early In Florida, climate change and the challenges stages of the redevelopment of The Bay Sarasota, it presents, like intensified storm seasons and drawing inspiration from the design philosophy rising sea levels, require architects to explore behind the recently demolished Selby Library, more durable materials that can withstand a beautiful work of modernist architecture by high-velocity winds and new approaches to Walter Netsch. While the influence of Florida construction to accommodate flooding that modernism is present in their work, Sweet and mid-century firms did not have to contend

There are a few firms that we really admire in practice, how they are able to capture a modern vernacular unique to their location.

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SWEET SPARKMAN

ON THE FLY: DESIGN DISTRICT with. Sweet Sparkman is a firm that celebrates sustainability and recognizes that a dedication to resiliency is what will allow its beautiful works to endure for the enjoyment of future generations. It is a forward-thinking perspective that continues to earn Sweet and Sparkman accolades, but it is their deep appreciation for the artful nature of architecture that nourishes their drive to be leaders in the field. Family life brought Sweet and Sparkman together. Their wives met at a playdate, bonding over sons born only three days apart and husbands with similar careers. The two women forged a friendship. It was through his wife that Sweet became SWEET acquainted with Sparkman and his SPARKMAN work. The two men would talk shop at — LOCATION — 2168 MAIN ST. gatherings, and when Sweet decided to SARASOTA make a career shift, he used Sparkman sweetsparkman.com as a sounding board while exploring the idea of starting his own firm. “I really trusted Jerry’s judgment. I respected him. I found him to be a really good designer and a sensible, patient person,” says Sweet. “He was the type of person I could see myself going into business with.” Sparkman was with a firm known for high-end residential architecture, while Sweet’s experience was in the public sector. Both men brought different skill sets to the table, and in 2004, their collaboration came to fruition. Now, almost 20 years later, their firm has grown into one of the Gulf Coast’s most influential forces in architecture and design. Opposite clockwise: The view from the DiCarlo house; two exterior angles and one interior look at the Today, innovators like Sweet and Sparkman Seathru house Above: The waterfront side of the Boathouse are creating a New Florida vernacular influenced by an influx of savvy urbanites with a keen eye for design and a deep appreciation for outdoor challenging us, allowing us to be more creative. brunt of a ferocious storm season without living. Whether these are snowbirds in search They are keeping us and our staff on our toes.” compromising beauty, the team at Sweet of warmer winters or Floridians returning home It isn’t just cosmopolitan clients inspiring the Sparkman Architecture & Interiors bring from city life in New York and California, they firm to push the boundaries of design. Climate innovation and imagination to their approach are choosing Sarasota Bay as an affordable change is also profoundly shaping architecture in both public and residential projects. alternative to Miami. across the state. Sweet and Sparkman are “The most inspiring projects are those “In our area, we are seeing a very sophisticated pioneers in an emergent generation of architects that allow creativity to flourish. Creativity is a clientele. They are a little more discriminating driven by creativity and resiliency. From erecting form of well-being, and projects that tap that about architecture, and what they want is a buildings above flood elevations to utilizing new potential bring great joy to the whole team,” high design aesthetic,” Sweet says. “They are durable building materials that can take the Sparkman says.

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ON THE FLY: DESIGN DISTRICT By Nila Do Simon

STARR POWER

Architect and interior designer Julia Starr Sanford creates a new standard in residential design, born of the harsh realities and wild beauty of the Sunshine State

hen Julia Starr Sanford was tapped to create the first-ever residence in Alys Beach, around 2004, she was met with an overwhelming challenge: design a coastal home that could not only withstand Category 5 hurricanes but also convey an everlasting beauty for generations to come. For the architect and interior designer, it was a challenge she was glad to accept, one that has helped define her career and a new Florida vernacular. As the principal of her eponymous Jacksonville-based firm, Sanford has trotted the globe designing luxury residences and boutique hotels that create meaning not only in her clients’ lives but also

in the environment around them. Sanford says she’s always had an appreciation for the well-crafted. She was raised in Atlanta by an artsy mother who dabbled in designing interior spaces and a builder father who created large-scale commercial highway projects. The designer, who speaks in a soft, measured voice, has carried the notion of good building with her as she’s created spaces throughout Florida’s coastline, in the Bahamas and in Central America. Sanford’s impressive career has included early forays as art director of NBC’s Today show and the broadcast of the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta. Now, in a field where women make up just

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infuses a feminine touch with design elements like curved walls and staircases.

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BRIE WILLIAMS, NATE EBERT

her work in Alys Beach, the small, planned Panhandle community developed in line with the tenets of New Urbanism, favoring walkability over sprawl. Selected alongside nearly a dozen international designers to create the luxury town’s first homes, Sanford was tasked with creating designs with equal parts beauty and brawn, appealing to the discerning, affluent travelers and residents that Alys Beach developers hoped to attract.

The result was a series of memorable structures with stark-white exteriors reminiscent of Santorini and organic interiors expertly appointed with luxury furnishings, fabrics and accents echoing the area’s coastal terrain. They’ve weathered some serious storms, and the community is the first in the United States to require constructions to meet the Institute of Business and Home Safety’s Fortified

20 percent of licensed architects, she serves as a global leader in conscious building. Coupled with her strong foundation in industry, Sanford’s deft feminine intuition, which includes an innate understanding of how wellcrafted homes enhance people’s lives, appears in her work. “There is perhaps a more feminine sensitivity to space and light in the richness of natural materials throughout our interior spaces, native cypress and coral stone, with an occasional curved stairwell or curved wall in the courtyard that has a feminine flair,” she says. “As women in this industry, we have a unique understanding of home and family. That’s probably why I gravitate toward more residential spaces. That From top: The back even applies to the of this Jacksonville boutique hotels that home is designed for living along the we’ve done, hotels that river, steel and glass I’ve always considered doors blending home away from home.” interior to exterior; Julia Sanford’s A common design philosophy is conscious denominator among creation Sanford’s designs is that Right: Minimalism they appeal to clients in marries movement in the custom search of lasting value. Sublime Original marble dining table Take, for example,

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ON THE FLY: DESIGN DISTRICT something we were proud of.” In addition to her design firm and furniture line, which together employ nearly a dozen individuals, Sanford is also a co-founder of the nonprofit Sky Institute Foundation for the Future, which serves as an incubator for concepts that enhance building standards. Comprising architects, urban planners, environmental engineers, environmental defense attorneys, scientists, food producers, scholars and more, Sky Institute aspires to build better structures throughout the globe. At the heart of all her projects, Sanford hopes to show just how beautiful nature can be in everyday life, whether that’s through Sublime Original’s earthy materials, spaces with ample natural light or the incorporation of natural fauna into a home. “I’m naturally drawn to beauty,” she says. “Beauty can enrich someone’s life. Everything natural is beautiful, and to have this effect is wonderful.” Opposite›: Sanford

This page: The Jacksonville home is classically proportioned in keeping with the historic neighborhood,

with a steel and glass front door opening to a river view; Primitive Modern BB chair by Sublime Original

standard of resilient building design. release cushions and pillows crafted out of “The quality of these fortified homes hides, as well as a line of hide bags, in the fall. and the ideal of this all-white place in “We started this furniture line because we Alys Beach reset the meter of quality wanted to express a sensual sustainability for throughout Florida,” Sanford says. the future. We were tired of buying veneer After conceiving the idea nearly five wood furniture that was mass-produced years ago, Sanford launched a furniture and in China, so this was our chance to make art line, Sublime Original, in October 2018, a move that sets her apart in an already distinguished class of designers. The line is an extension of Sanford and her design firm’s philosophy of conscious creation, including its use of sustainably sourced woods and materials known for their longevity against harsh outdoor elements, like Florida’s SANFORD pecky cypress and heavy timber. DESIGN With clean, straight lines and — LOCATION — surprising angles, the pieces 370 4TH AVE. S. JACKSONVILLE BEACH complement a modern coastal starrsanford.com home. The furniture line won a best in show award at the spring 2019 High Point Market, the home furnishing industry’s largest trade show. “The recognition was very exciting because it was a validation of a more recent effort,” says Sanford, who has plans to

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designed some of the first homes in Alys Beach, the small, planned Panhandle community developed in accordance with the tenets of New Urbanism, favoring walkability over sprawl; furnishings by Sublime Original

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FLORIDIANA ALL THINGS VINTAGE B y E ri c B a rt o n

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gather at the St. Petersburg Shuffleboard Club in 1929 Below: Today’s club is

popular with Floridians of all ages.

Savin’ the Shuffle

t had been, quite simply, the least cool thing you could do. And then, one Friday night in 2005, the cool kids showed up with their pucks and their cues and started shuffling. Thirty-five local artists, community activists and folks just looking for a good time descended on the St. Petersburg Shuffleboard Club—which, in its heyday, was the world headquarters of a game synonymous with our state—and effectively saved it from extinction. Shuffleboard wasn’t invented in St. Pete, but when six players formed the club in 1924, it became an instant Florida icon. At its height in 1963, the shuffle society boasted 5,000 members and 71 courts. But the boom ended with urban flight, people moving from the city center to suburbia, where they had their own

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shuffleboard courts. By the 1980s, shuffleboard had become a relic. The city took over the club’s property, and membership plummeted. But then came The Artillery, as the group that saved the club called itself. They’d bring food and drinks on Friday nights and host tournaments that were as much about the camaraderie as they were about the winning. After the Tampa Bay Times wrote a story about The Artillery in those early days, hundreds started showing up to shuffle. One of them was Christine Page, a freelance web developer who found the club charming and Gatsbyesque, despite its state of disrepair. “There were a lot of hazardous things, a lot of weird add-ons that needed to be removed,” she recalls. Enamored, Page started volunteering and eventually joined the board and became its executive director in 2015. After a $150,000 rehab with stadium seating, glittering trophy

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cases and twinkly lights strung up over courts painted in putt-putt golf green, the club buzzed like it must have in the ’20s. Today, more than 1,200 members enjoy access to the courts any time and the option to compete in tournaments each week. Friday games are usually open to the public, but those are currently suspended due to the pandemic. Page says everyone has missed the community shuffles. “Oh my gosh, it’s so much fun. It’s so many types of people next to each other. It’s people on first dates, college kids, grandparents, and the grandparents are teaching them how to play.”

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ST. PETE SHUFFLEBOARD CLUB, MICHAEL FL ANAGAN

How the St. Petersburg Shuffleboard Club went from geek to chic

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hen tourists visited the Sunshine State in the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s, they sought souvenirs that would last longer than their tans. Ceramics, linens and postcards commemorated vacations with colorful illustrations of Florida’s symbols and locales. Thirdgeneration Floridian Tracie Schneider, of Tallahassee, has been amassing these kitschy relics since the ’80s, when she stumbled upon Larry Roberts’s antique shop in Micanopy, which was devoted entirely to Floridiana: vintage items celebrating the state’s history, geography, folklore and cultural heritage. Under the name “3floridagirls,” Schneider and her two daughters peddle their pieces of the past on Etsy. Here’s a sample of their collection.

Left: Ceramic flamingo, a favorite Old Florida symbol, $40 Above: This 1950s linen tablecloth celebrates the state’s citrus and

maritime industries and pre-Disney landmarks, similar tablecloths starting at $130; Right: (Tea towels, top to bottom) Horse racing motif, $40; Palm trees, bathing beauties and sailboat print, $35; Calypso dancing and waterskiing pattern, $40

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Celebrating Florida Together

Florida House on Capitol Hill congratulates Flamingo aga#ine or ive years o un in Florida & beyond& On your next visit to Washington, D.C., come visit YOUR state embassy, Florida House on Capitol Hill, that connects, celebrates and champions Florida to the orld&

Visit us at 1 Second St. NE, Washington, DC or www.floridahousedc.org Artist: Jack Spellman

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