It is too much to hope that the story of Fort Myers Beach
will be entirely accurate. Memories are faulty, and oft
times "authorities"' disagree with each other.
But before more of the old records are lost, and our pioneers
are beyond questioning, we have made an attempt to gather
what facts we could and, interweaving them with local lore,
put them into print.
Estero Island and its sister island, San Carlos, make up
the community of Fort Myers Beach. It is a tiny bit of an
Island, seven miles long and in no place as much as a mile
wide. From the north-west point to the south-east tip, a
gleaming white sand beach fronts the Gulf of Mexico.
Shrieking gulls and terns ride the winds, sandpipers twinkle-toe
after the receding wavelets seeking tiny bits of luscious
sea foods; stately herons, roseate spoonbille and a dozen
other shore and water birds abound in the mangroves of Estero
Bay. Porpoises rise and dip and roll as they play off-shore.
The mighty tarpon whips the water and flashes his silver
sides as he rolls and tumbles until the very ocean "boils."
On the ocean floor are sand dollars, star fish and pricklv
sea urchins. Palms, the trade-mark of the tropics, bougainvilleas,
flaming royal poncianas, hibiscus and alamanda keep the
island a-bloom the year around. Sea grapes hang in great
clusters among huge golden-green leaves, and the tree (or
sea) hibiscus glows with blossoms opening in the early morning,
changing during the day from golden yellow to orange, then
to russet and red until late in the evening they drop their
now maroon flowers ready to start another golden day tomorrow.
A
quiet town of friendly citizens, artists, fishermen and
winter residents, with a healthy quota of welcome tourists,
make up the island population. |
