The controlled wildness of Sanibel, Captiva islands

Michael Billheimer hands me a jar of strawberry preserves as I leave his Lighthouse Cafe. "It's just a little taste of our island for you to take home," he said. Now THAT'S hospitality. The Lighthouse Cafe on Periwinkle Way on Sanibel Island is reputedly home to the best whole wheat blueberry pancakes in Southwest Florida. The cafe is small and cozy, and every available wall space is clad with framed photos or drawings of lighthouses from around the world, most of them sent by fulfilled customers. Just down the road, and by the beach fronting Gulf of Mexico, is the beacon of Sanibel, an authentic lighthouse - a landmark since 1884 when the entire island was a nature preserve.

The lingering "taste" I have of Sanibel Island and its smaller sister island, Captiva, is complex. There's a controlled wildness to it. On the one hand, the islands are spoltlessly clean; no buildings taller than the tallest palm tree; the roadways have no ruts; even the policemen who control the traffic (as there are no stoplights anywhere) are neat and courteous. Yet the mangroves, the beaches, the small inner islands are wild havens for multitudes of birds including white pelicans, alligators, tree crabs, dolphins and those permanently folded manatees. It's still a preserve, but accommodations have been made for humans: biking (on the 23-mile bike path), kayaking, sailing, swimming and sightseeing.

One evening I took a sunset cruise from McCarthy's Marina in Captiva. Just before the red ball dropped below the horizon, a trio of dolphins entertained us with their acrobatic leaps in the boat's wake. The eco-system in this part of Florida is so rich and so protected that most creatures thrive there with, dare I say, wild abandon.

Many of the two-legged creatures of the human persuasion who congregate along the seashore are searching for seashells in this world class seashell trove of over 400 varieties. If you can't find what you're looking for on the beach, the Bailey-Matthews National Shell Museum will satisfy all your mollusk and cephalopod cravings. (Positively no shucking allowed). They even have a computer with seashell recipes from all over the world that you can email to whomever you wish. (I sent a whole whack of them to friends.)

Down the road from the museum is the Clinic for the Rehabilitation of Wildlife. This center offers a rare opportunity for visitors to witness the care for injured and orphaned wildlife. It's a great place for kids to play "vet" as they follow the cases of four animals from admission to release, live on video. From there I took a narrated tram tour of the J.N. "Ding" Darling Wildlife Refuge. Besides being one of the top bird-watching destinations in North America, I got a kick out of our well-informed and no-nonsense guide who, like an army squad leader, yelled out the Latin names of the critters we saw or were about to see from the horseshoe crab to the rare alligator sighting.

Charming arts and crafts stores dot the islands and cafes and bistros are a plenty. One morning I had breakfast in the sunshine at the Island Cow. If the Lighthouse Cafe was filled with photos, then the Cow practically mooed with its whimsical decorations and its "udderly" delicious menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner. However, for hands-down most visually interesting restaurant to eat at The Bubble Room in Captiva. Three floors of nostalgia, a bizarre cross between Hollywood and Christmas. I happened to be ushered to a table where my eating buddies were pint-sized figures of W.C. Field, Laurel and Hardy, Frank Sinatra and that presidential actor, Ronald Reagan. The desserts are piled high and are larger than life. I chose a modest but delicious carrot cake, partially because it was the smallest offering of the evening. Even at that, I couldn't finish it and Laurel and Hardy weren't interested in helping me.

During my four-day stay, I came "home" every night to Casa Ybel Resort. This award-winning resort has catered to families since the 1890s. I lounged on my private screened-in porch, (part of my one-bedroom suite) overlooking the gulf, and dined at their Thistle Lodge. The food was superb and the atmosphere quiet and romantic. What else does a gal need for the last night of a charmed vacation?

Source: MSN Travel