This article originally appeared in Reel Time in 2018. It’s republished here, (with revisions) because I think the message it imparts has never been more relevant. Respect and action to protect this amazing marine biosphere that surrounds us have never been more necessary or compelling. This formative work of history made me see this land where I have lived for over four decades with new eyes. I wanted to share it again.
“The real voyage of discovery consists not of seeking new lands but of seeing with new eyes.” – Marcel Proust
As I read Jack Davis’s new novel, “Gulf, The Making of An American Sea,” the quote by the seminal French novelist Marcel Proust came to mind.
Having lived on Florida’s Gulf Coast for close to 40 years and been privileged to explore its rivers, bays and enigmatic estuaries, I have been captivated by its beauty and the fish that swim in its waters. Being immersed in this wonderland had to some extent clouded my sensibilities by a familiarity of place. Reading “Gulf” shined a clearer light on what we have, what we’ve lost and the importance of protecting its treasures for future generations.
Davis’s novel begins 150 million years ago when the geological forces of an evolving earth began shaping the Gulf we know today.In part one, he introduces us to the Calusa in Florida and the Karankawa who inhabited present-day Texas, original natives of “one of the largest estuarine regions in the world, encompassing more than 200 estuaries and occupying nearly 8 million acres.”
The book then traces the impact of the early Spanish explorers who led the way for the French and British. The descriptions of the vast schools of fish and flocks of birds that would “blacken the sky” hint at the incredible diversity and density of marine life and wildlife that once inhabited the Gulf and its estuaries.
In a chapter entitled, “The Wild Fish That Tamed the Coast,” Davis recounts how the tarpon, not warm weather and white sand beaches, brought the first tourists to Florida. The records are unclear about who took the first tarpon with a rod and reel. Some say it was New York Architect William Halsey Wood fishing in Pine Island Sound in 1885. Others claim it was Anthony Weston Dimock with a fish he caught at the mouth of the Homosassa River.
Whoever the angler, that first tarpon was the impetus that introduced wealthy adventurers, artists and, indirectly, a wave of tourists to the Gulf Coast.
In subsequent chapters, the influx of humans into the Gulf region begins a period of intense exploitation in the 1800s that continues to this day. Davis recounts records of armed tourist passengers on the Ocklawaha River that shot birds and wildlife indiscriminately for sport. At the same time, the plume trade was responsible for the killing of huge numbers of birds Gulf-wide. In 1902, one trade house reported an inventory of 50,000 ounces of feathers. At about that time, ornithologist Frank Chapman spent two afternoons walking Manhattan’s retail district counting 542 feathered hats representing 174 species of birds. During this same period, the harvesting of eggs from seabird nests exacerbated the decline of the once vast flocks of birds. Davis paints a picture with words that make it hard to overstate the effects of this dark period. Fortunately, this gloomy picture was illuminated by the outcry from conservationists and birders. As a result, bird sanctuaries were set aside by an executive order from President Theodore Roosevelt for the protection of birds and chapters of the National Audubon Society were born, including the Florida chapter in 1900. During that period, TR fostered the creation of 51 bird reservations, including Passage Key at the mouth of Tampa Bay.
As the history of the Gulf unfolded, the exploitation moved from birds to oil and then chemicals that devastated the coastal estuaries of Louisiana and Mississippi. Davis then recounts the effects of pulp mills, oil spills and hurricanes before the rush of development that resulted in massive dredge and fill operations. This rush to the Gulf’s coastal areas scoured seagrasses from bay bottoms and leveled thousands of acres of marshes and mangroves to create the islands and communities we know today as Marco Island, Cape Coral, Bird Key and Tierra Verde.
While much of the book centers on the degradation of the Gulf and its bays, estuaries and barrier islands, it also points out its resilience and serves as a cautionary tale of the importance of protecting, preserving and enhancing it today. “Gulf, The Making of an American Sea” opened my eyes to a paradise that still surrounds us, a paradise that’s beckoning us to see it with new eyes.
