Serene Sanibel
Written by: HELEN PAULY
Publicized in:
Journal Sentinel Wisconsin
Publication Date: January 27, 2007
A visit to
Florida's Sanibel
Island is a joyful trip back in time to a quieter, more rustic and
less glitzy version of the Sunshine
State. And that's just the way the
city of Sanibel wants it to stay.
Perhaps one of the most
disappointing things about traveling back to a place you loved, even after just
a short absence, is to find that things changed. An empty lot is now a 7-Eleven,
a quaint old house by the beach has turned into a mega mansion, another chain
store has replaced a small retailer.
The beauty of Sanibel, a
boomerang-shaped island in the Gulf of Mexico off Fort Myers, is that it has
stayed the course of its founding fathers, who wanted to attract tourists but at
the same time preserve the environment and the more rural feel of old Florida.
The island is visited by about
31,000 tourists every day, a huge number of whom come from the upper
Midwest to enjoy the average year-round temperature of 74
degrees. They decompress, spend days shelling on the beach - the island's most
noteworthy activity - fish, kayak, bike the miles of off-road trails that
crisscross the island and eat at their favorite restaurants. The Lighthouse
Cafe, Mc T's and the Sanibel Café, in fact, have served guests for
generations.
Sanibel's slower pace and casual
lifestyle means that it's rare you'll need more than a T-shirt and shorts to be
comfortable almost everywhere you go. Bikes and pedestrians rule, and if you
stay off the island's main drag, Periwinkle Way, during the 5 p.m. rush hour as
workers head out across the causeway, traffic headaches are minor. That makes
the island broadly appealing across different generations.
My family and I have been
vacationing in Sanibel since 1988 and the beautiful, most reassuring fact about
Sanibel is that things don't change.
Sanibel has been able to keep
things at a slow pace largely through proactive city ordinances, which are the
reason for some surprising attributes that have helped define this island.
The causeway that joined Sanibel
to the mainland in 1963 prompted a flurry of building on the island from
single-family home development to large resort properties such as the Sundial.
But by the 1970s, residents were getting worried. Development was taxing the
sewer and water systems, freshwater rivers were being filled in and mangroves
destroyed. To paraphrase the old Joni Mitchell song, residents feared their
paradise would be paved over for a parking lot.
As an unincorporated part of
Lee
County, Sanibel represented a rich
and growing tax base for the county where land use planners had targeted the
island as a place for intensive, high density development that would permit
housing for as many as 90,000 residents. That was an alarming figure, especially
so when one considers that today the island only has about 6,000 permanent
dwellers and a seasonal peak population of 18,000.
According to Zimomra,
incorporation came about largely because of two concerns, both centering on
protection - of residents and the environment. As an unincorporated area,
Sanibel didn't have its own police force and was reliant on the Lee County
Sheriff for protection. And it was eager to preserve its unique environmental
system. Incorporation would allow Sanibel to create its own police force and
enact land use codes based on eco systems.
Residents voted for incorporation
in 1974 and Porter Goss, who would later go on to be head of the Central
Intelligence Agency, was picked as its first mayor.
The unusual zoning worked, such
that today 72% of the island is either a managed preserve, national wildlife
refuge or conservation land.
If visitors to Sanibel have ever
wondered why the stars seem brighter, the horizon is clear of high rises and the
shopping areas are free of the chain establishment that often render one city
indistinguishable from another, it is due largely to a variety of ordinances
that were the core of Sanibel's incorporation drive.
Stars shine brightly
The brilliant stars are no
accident. Sanibel has what it calls its 'dark sky' rule. Palm trees are
attractive at night when illuminated from below, but you won't find any of that
kind of lighting on Sanibel, where all new lighting must aim down.
You also won't find high-rise
condos like those that line the shoreline in nearby
Fort Myers
Beach or
Naples. One of the city's charter
referendums restricted building height to no more than four stories.
And if a McDonald's hamburger is
what you're craving, a trip across the causeway back to the mainland would be in
order. Ten years ago when the hamburger chain wanted a spot on the island,
residents rebelled and another ordinance followed. No 'formula' restaurant
chains are allowed on the islands. That said,
Periwinkle Way has a Subway
and Dairy Queen. Both were grandfathered in.
Zimomra says a similar movement
is afoot to restrict 'formula' retailers like Wal-Mart and the Gap. Ironically,
Chico's, a women's clothing chain
that is now a fixture in malls across
America, got its
start as an independent retailer in Sanibel's
Periwinkle Place shopping
center, where it's still a tenant.
Bridgit Stone who is director of
marketing for the Sanibel-Captiva Chamber of Commerce, agrees that her island is
a comfortable piece of old Florida, a fact that sometimes makes the island a
tough sell for the chamber when competing against other parts of Florida that
sport more bling, high-end shopping, nightlife and fine dining.
But for others that is the
attraction. Sanibel is like your easy chair and favorite slippers, comfort all
the way.
'The minute you cross the
causeway,' says Stone, 'everything bad just melts away.'
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