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Pine Island lies just west of Cape Coral. In addition to the magnificent fishing, gifted artists, and ancient archaeological sites…there are also various utterly distinctive “Old Florida” experiences not to be missed. Chief amidst these is the Tarpon Lodge Sportsman Inn, Restaurant, and Bar located on the northwest coast of Pine Island in Pineland. From Cape Coral, the ride to Pineland is scenic and relaxing. A straight shot down Pine Island Road takes me past thick native vegetation. Fishermen and artists bump shoulders with photographers and eco-tourists amidst the hallucinogenic colors of Matlacha. Then it’s a quick and quiet jaunt through the stark alien landscape of the Little Pine Island wetland restoration area. From the four-way stop sign at the center of Pine Island, I turn right onto Stringfellow road. Grand entrances to half-built subsections encroach on the scenic space, threatening the future of long enduring roadside vegetable marketers and the lush, desolate labyrinths of palm tree nurseries. The onward push for bigger, better, faster, more is visible, even here. A fish-emblazoned sign at the corner of a side street points the way to the Tarpon Lodge. Magnificent shell mounds raise the ground on the right side of the road. Sparkling Pine Island Sound soon comes into view on the left. A short distance in front stands the stately Tarpon Lodge Sportsman Inn and Restaurant. It’s right all over the road from the Calusa Heritage Trail and practically next-door to the home of New York Times best-selling author, Randy Wayne White. The main building was in the first place built in 1926 by the Wilson family. Later on it was owned and operated by I.B. and Mary Hunt Jones as the Pine-Aire Lodge. In 1986, an further and added dormitory building was added to the former Pine-Aire Lodge property. For the next ten years the property was known as The Cloisters, a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center. It wasn’t until 2000 when Robert and Phyllis Wells (who likewise own the restaurant at Cabbage Key) purchased the complex. They renovated the main building and dormitory into a restaurant and hotel…the present day Tarpon Lodge. It opened for business in June of 2001. When Hurricane Charley made landfall on Pine Island on August 13, 2004, it badly damaged the roof of the main structure, flooding the main dining room. Most of the windows were shattered and all of the docks were destroyed. After the storm, work ensued, and the property was restored again. The restaurant reopened on December 15, 2004. The Inn reopened for the duration of the New Year’s holiday and without delay hosted a family gathering for former President Jimmy Carter and his family. Royal palms and banana tree leaves shade the front entrance. Red flowers and green leaves come alive in the soft breeze as I walk by them on my way to check in to an during one night room. A quick tour and gracious hospitality are without delay offered by the kind woman behind the desk. After my Tarpon Lodge orientation, it’s out to the car to gather the wife and belongings…we’re officially on Island Time. Pineland is as laid back as it gets. This isn’t glitzy-neon Florida. This isn’t sweaty South Beach, or posh Worth Ave, or tacky Panama City, or plastic Orlando. Even Sanibel and Captiva look overpopulated and hectic when equated versus Pineland. People who visit the Tarpon Lodge don’t end up here on accident…they normally come here looking for one of a few things: fishing, history, nature, romance or solitude. If they’re lucky, they’ll get a mixture of them all. There are various types of rooms available at the Tarpon Lodge, but space is limited…especially for the duration of the tourist and tarpon seasons. The little number of rooms available adds to the allure of the lodge, and allows the staff to accomplish their goal of hands-on, personal service for each guest they host. The 1926 historic house has nine rooms. Even even though this building has been renovated assorted times, you’d never know it. A lot of antiquate materials still exist. Most rooms even still have the introductory hardwood floors. Some of the rooms in the main building have water-views. All of them have commodious access to the restaurant and lounge. Another major syndication point is that these rooms offer the distinctive probability to become a part of Pine Island history by staying during one night in one of the oldest buildings on the Island. There is one cottage and a restored 1926 boathouse. Both have kitchenettes, porches, and fantastic water views. These choices are perfective for those planning extended stays. Our room is in the Island House, a stilt building behind the main building. There are twelve rooms in this building. Six of them have a water-view. All of the water-view rooms in the Island House have little balconies facing west, permitting a one-of-a-kind vantage point to mind-blowing, Pine Island Sound sunsets. We’re lucky sufficient to have snagged one of the water-view rooms even even though our visit is halfway through tarpon season. The room is comprised of a comfortable bed, a lamp, an armoire with a little television and a private bathroom. The most primary feature is the balcony overlooking the pool, the tropically-manicured grounds and Pine Island Sound. There’s no phone in the room. There’s no wireless internet access, either. Both of those may be had in the main building…but I’ve come here to disconnect from the electronic ties that bind me everyplace else. Once each thing’s lugged up from the car and we’re settled, it’s out to the balcony with a freshly popped bottle of red wine and two glasses. A couple wicker chairs and a table await us, along with all the glory of unspoiled Southwest Florida. A steady, cooling breeze caresses our skin and flirts with our hair. Alternating patterns of bright sunlight and cloud shadows intermingle on the well-kept lawn stretching towards the water. A few errant seagrape leaves blow all over the grass. Love bugs mate mid-air. A green anole extends it is brightly colored dewlap and bobs up and down. Our entire view is of an unhurried and idyllic paradise…swaying palms, big watercolor skies, and the wide expanse of Pine Island Sound. The horizon is occupied by steadfast and uncelebrated islands and keys. Wood Key. Black Key. Part Island. Inaccessible by foot or car, these unspoken-about places play at the imagination. Who owns them? Does any person live on them? Minds wander to the ancient Calusa inheritance of this area, filling in these blank islands with colorful and storied pasts. Shell mounds. Unfound Indian art. Sacred burial grounds. Untold secrets. Birds break the surface of of the water, diving underneath to hunt for fish. Fish break the surface of the air, jumping up to perceive at bugs. Small boats ride the borderlands, skimming all over the rumpled surface of Pine Island Sound, at times docking at the Tarpon Lodge, occasionally heading for the Pineland Marina conveniently located nearby. An excessively affected emotionally couple, in their early forties, emerge onto a balcony a few rooms away. They’re on vacation, and they’ve just checked in at the Tarpon Lodge. Within minutes they’re down at the pool in bathing suits, all huge smiles. This is the place they’ve been looking forward to visiting, marking big black X’s each day on their calendar, an excruciating countdown. Now they’re in the long run here and they immerse themselves into the experience of Southwest Florida as speedily as they immerse themselves into the outdoor pool. That’s all it takes. A commitment to relax. I love watching them look with fixed eyes in wide-eyed wonder at the newness around them. With the curiosity of babies, they’ve emerged from the womb of their normal lives into the wonder of a place so utterly different. Their heads rotate in wide arcs, taking the scenery in. When you find yourself gazing skyward in appreciation you’ll recognise you’ve begun to unwind. Wild eyes absorb the tropical moments, romanticizing, writing to memory. Between playful splashes in the pool they reconnect in ways only a alter of scenery may allow. The lure of the landscape is strong. Before long we’re out of our chairs and exploring the Tarpon Lodge grounds by foot. We walk beneath flowers and foliage, low-hanging leaves and blossoms tickle our exposed skin. The rejuvenative scent of salt water is pervasive, massaging us with aromatherapy. The material of a shaded hammock hungrily grips at the curves of our bodies as we gently sway back and forth. Then it’s off for a tryst with the virgin-white gazebo. We escape the sun by running under long-fronded coconut palms. We look with fixed eyes up at their clusters of exotic fruit and run our hands along the ridged terrain of their stone hard trunks. Out on the dock, it’s tongues of water lapping at wood, birds singing suggestive mating songs, and fish frantically splashing…all underneath the tattered linen of Egyptian cotton clouds. In less than a half hour we’ve gotten intimate with nature. In the Tarpon Lodge dining room and lounge it’s come as you are or as you want to be. This is a Sportsman Inn on Pine Island. It may be a colorful melting-pot of an affair at times. It’s a place where millionaire boat fanciers bump shoulders with young couples looking for romance. Vegan eco-activists dine in the same room as crusty fishermen and archeology professors. Differing styles of dress and speech are the backdrop of the social scene at the Tarpon Lodge. Some of the guests want to engage in polite conversation, others want to be left alone with their books and thoughts. The service staff adds it is own tones to the lively and vibrant mix, tones of the varied places they’ve ventured from on their traveling to end up here, tones of the high level of service the management expects them to provide. For a place off the beaten path, and on an island known for the carefree nature of it is service employees, General Manager Rob Wells III has amassed a staff he may genuinely be proud of. In all interactions our needs were prevised and catered to, most often times with a mind-boggling accuracy. The lounge at the Tarpon Lodge is remindful of an old-fashioned New England style pub, something from Revolutionary War days. Magnificent dark wood floors run past a cavernous bar towards a primitive brick fireplace. Tasteful tall vases filled with beach sand and lightning whelk shells serve as candle-holders for big white candles which glimmer dimly each evening. Trophy fish are mounted on the wall, along with the hideous saw of a small-tooth sawfish (now a protected endangered species). Simple photographs of ancient fishing conquests abound. Sack-back Windsor chairs line assorted tables, and personalities from all all over Pine Island come to indulge in the libations and magnificent food. Three unshaven men, fresh from a day on the water, crowd the little bar retail emphatic fish stories. A married couple, from nearby Bokeelia, dine from the lounge menu. From throughout the room they engage my wife in conversation…life on the island, trips to Hong Kong and Dubai, the presidential race. Between the twists and turns of an animated discussion, the wife and I percentage a Caribbean Shrimp, Mushroom and Spinach Dip appetizer. Topped with Monterey Jack cheese and served with seasoned croutons, the subtle curry flavor of the dip was a pleasant surprise. The amiable hostess introduces herself and explains how the Chef at the Tarpon Lodge, Jethro Joseph, hails from Grand Cayman. He loves to blend fresh Southwest Florida ingredients with Caribbean spices when creating his distinguishable menu items. The end result is a good deal of of the region’s most innovative food. Traditional classics given a South Florida update part menu space with fresh catch delicacies, while exotic flavors of the Cayman Islands disclose themselves in surprising and unexpected places. The Tarpon Lodge Restaurant is systematically ranked at four stars by visiting feed critics. Live music, of the easy listening variety, is scheduled a couple times a week. There is an exquisitely appointed indoor dining room, but the tables you want here are out on the screened dining patio overlooking the postcard-perfect sunset on Pine Island Sound. The hostess seats us at a corner table on the patio with an unobstructed water view. The live musical guests this evening are the David Sarchet Trio. Their blending of classic and innovative jazz stylings mix with the fresh Florida air and provide the perfective atmospheric backdrop for a magical dining experience. Within moments, our professional server provides proper wine service on the bottle we chose from the fixed and lowcost wine list. Glasses full of Steele Pinot Noir are raised for a toast in the dusky light. Crystal clinks, and our leisurely-paced meal begins. Salads, more spectacular than life, appear before us. My wife goes with a Green Leaf Spinach Salad made with baby spinach leaves topped with roasted red pepper and mushrooms, finished with a warmed sweet bacon vinaigrette. The fluctuation of temperatures plays with our senses. Crisp cool spinach collides with the warm bacon dressing…absolutely stunning. Mine is a Hearts of Palm Asian Salad. Tangy hearts of palm and sweet snowpeas tossed with mixed field greens and crispy fried wonton strips, which add an extra crunchy texture to the salad. All of it is lightly smothered in an Asian vinaigrette with sesame and ginger tones. Magnificent. My wife’s Pine Island Sound Crab Cakes unquestionably live up to the legendary word-of-mouth status they’ve earned over the past couple years. Jumbo lump crab meat combined with Chef Jethro Joseph’s inimitable blend of seasonings, formed into two gargantuan crab cakes and sauteed until done. They are wisely paired with a garlic aioli which complements the flavors of the crab cakes nicely. This is Southwest Florida feed done right. My choice is a sought-after fresh catch particular that’s hard to track down, but oh-so-worth-it when it’s found…Sauteed Local Tripletail. I was so delighted to listen our server verbal the dish at the beginning of our meal. Tripletail is something of a closely-held fisherman’s mystery here in South Florida…delicate, flaky, pearly flesh with a mild, slightly-meaty flavor altogether distinguishable unto itself. The Tarpon Lodge is one of the few local restaurants which offers this fish regularly. If you ever see it offered – get it, you will not be disappointed. Chef Joseph did it right, again, with the tripletail…just a tame saute with salt and pepper. That’s all it asks for. This is a fish which doesn’t need to hide underneath sauces. It’s enjoyed best out in the open, on it’s own merit, minimalist, and pure….and take pleasure in it I did! Somewhere along the line the sun dips beneath the horizon and a pastel explosion splatters throughout the sky. Long shadows fall underneath the palm trees and the playful jazz music wanders out into the darkness of nightime air on the coastline. One by one, the other diners leave the screened patio until we’re the last two humans there, our only company a few sips of red wine and what remains of a decadent chocolate dessert. Island-induced bliss. Back at the room, my wife takes a long, hot shower. I determine to wait for her on the balcony. Nighttime is in full bloom and a wall of spotlights shine up from the ground illuminating the undersides of various palm trees and the gazebo. The closed swimming pool still glows versus the darkness. Is there anything more inviting than the computer-blue glow of a swimming pool at night? Within seconds I’m stripped to my boxer shorts and jogging down the Island House hallway. I descend the set of stairs and surreptitiously slip inside the gate surrounding the pool. I look nervously around, but no one’s watching. I break the hotel rules by sliding into the freshening neon water of a pool closed for the night. My environs are as bright as a pleasant and otherworldly dream. Majestic, dark palm trees show in silhouettes versus the night-tide sky. The tropical air has cooled drastically. A soft chlorine scent emanates from the water, then disappears each time the light breeze of pristine air picks up again. Fresh air. Pine-Aire. Off in the distance, purple and white electricity dances in the form of silent heat lightning. Twinkling, white Christmas lights ride the perimeter of the historic inn, strung along the full length of the eaves. The blue-tinted haze of half-watched TV screens smolders from the windows of for the length of one night rooms, where adventure-weary travelers drift off toward dreams. The pool light reflects off the tame waves I’m creating and flashes all over my skin in streaks and blurs. The only sound is the desert-island rustle of palm fronds in the invisible breeze and the electric whir of an improperly balanced ceiling fan on the porch of the Island House. I ease onto my back and let the water aid me. Weightless, I float on the surface, eyes aimed skyward. The stars above glow with a ferocity and luminance I’ve never witnessed before, huge burning spheres, drifting in the sky as I float in this pool. I look at the heavens and look back in time, witnessing oldfashioned light finishing it is impossibly long traveling towards Earth. The starlight I see tonight begun it is trek long before the Tarpon Lodge existed. Before the Cloisters. Before the Pine-Aire Lodge. Before the Wilson family cleared this land or built this house. The starlight I see tonight was formed when Calusa Indians ruled this piece of land, when the only other light was thrown forth by campfires, and the stars were looked to for guidance and wonder. Tonight I’m in an ancient place, watching ancient light arrive the way the ancients saw it….and it’s so quiet it’s almost as if I’m the last person on Earth. Then the noise of a sliding door breaks the silence, and I see the shadow-outline of my loving wife on the balcony, in a patient manner waiting for me to come back to the room. |
