Source: Richmond (Va.) Times Dispatch
On a calm, sunny morning, John Jensen looked out on the still water of Pine Island Sound and recalled the days after Hurricane Charley smashed through here with 145 mph winds last August.
"When people started coming back, they all said, 'Oh my God, you're devastated,'" said Jensen, a weathered waterman. "Tsunami was devastation ... a terrible catastrophe with such a tremendous loss of life.
"This wasn't devastation. Everybody's living."
Jensen is right. The marina he operates with two brothers on nearby Captiva Island has spanking new piers and boat slips. Business is brisk. Life goes on.
Sure, the memories of Charley and three other hurricanes that ravaged Florida last summer linger. Many scars still are visible. But the resilience of man and nature has prevailed again.
Up and down the sanctuary islands that lie off the coast of Fort Myers, things are slowly returning to normal. But paradise has a new look here.
The canopy of trees that hung over Periwinkle Drive, Sanibel's main drag, is gone. Heavy vegetation that hid homes and condos and lent a tropical aura has been destroyed or severely damaged.
Restoration is well under way. New palms have been planted. Assorted plants and floral cover are sprouting. Numerous projects are focused on refurbishing the vegetation.
Along the shoreline, blue tarps and plywood still cover the structural damage at some resort apartments. Repair work is complete in most areas. Hard-hat signs and yellow tape identify those still under repair.
Two of the larger resorts - Sundial on Sanibel and South Seas Plantation on Captiva - remain closed. Both hope to be open by spring.
In other areas of Southwest Florida, such as nearby Punta Gorda, the heaviest hit, recovery has been slower.
Here, they've put on a front of normalcy for the tourist season.
Traffic is lighter, however. Vacancy signs are hung out at many inns. But for the sportsmen who have looked on Sanibel as a recreational haven, the green light is on. Everything is operational.
"The fishing wasn't affected at all," said Jensen. "It took us six weeks to rebuild the piers and clear the roads. The first people who came back said the fishing for trout, redfish and sheepshead was better than it had been."
Those who stroll the beaches looking for treasures of the sea found new banks of shells to dig in. Bowman's Beach, the most popular shelling area, was closed for several months while uprooted trees were cleared. It's open now, and visitors young and old are doing the Sanibel Stoop where, with head down and hunched over, you scratch in the sand for a jewel.
Golf courses suffered heavy tree loss in the hurricane, but they are lush again.
Green superintendents who are forever cutting down trees on your course back home would be pleased at the aftermath here.
"Often out of something bad comes something good," said Ken Noble of the Beachview Golf Club.
Once the debris was cleared, golfers began noticing a better stand of grass. Areas that once were thin from too much shade now have thick sod. And some once-difficult shots play differently because of tree damage.
Bird watchers and naturalists have been amazed at the recovery in the vast Ding Darling Wildlife Refuge. The damage was heavy and widespread.
Ranger Jeff Combs said approximately 40-60 percent of the mangrove trees were impacted, depending on areas. The seagrapes and buttonwoods took big hits, too. Australian pines, not a native tree, came down easily because of their shallow roots.
The birds flew away before the hurricane hit and returned shortly after.
"We don't think the population was harmed a bit by the storm," Combs said. "Osprey and eagle nests were destroyed, but most of the chicks had fledged."
Fortunately, the storm surge was not that strong, so the mammals did fine.
When the mangroves snapped off, it opened the sunlight, and the propogules (mangrove seedlings) started growing.
"It's part of the natural cycle of a mangrove estuary," said Combs. "We had trees without a leaf on them. We did a flyover, and the refuge looked like a brown, bombed out war zone. In a few weeks, everything was green again.
"Hurricanes have been a part of Florida forever. The wildlife and native vegetation will adapt to it."
And so will the tourists.
