Reading the Waters of Sanibel Flats

With tail flicking and head outstretched to receive an ear scratch, CiCi Brennan thought I was jesting when I reported that I had recently read Sanibel Flats, the first book by Randy Wayne White. Although it was published in 1990, it was my first foray into his, eh, storied career.

“You’re a writer who’s been living in Fort Myers for six years,” she meowed. “And he’s a local celebrity author who’s been writing for more than 40 years. How come you’ve never read anything by him? Besides, it’s about fishing.”

Anyone who knows CiCi knows her passion for fishing. She got that from her companion, Pam.

Sheepishly, I admitted that I don’t fish. And while I had heard of White from several of my writer friends, I felt a bit guilty for not cracking the cover of even one of his more than 50 books. Not only is the sheer number impressive, but the scope is daunting—28 Doc Ford adventures; 18 thrillers written under pseudonyms; several non-fiction books that range from batfishing to tropical cooking; and a middle-grade series that melds marine biology, trouble-filled exploits, and sharks. White is big on sharks.

“Who has time to read when you’re a struggling author?” I asked, a cop-out to CiCi’s slow, questioning blink.

That changed recently when a friend visited me. Reggie and I had started the day with a dolphin and manatee cruise on Estero Bay, followed by lunch at Doc Ford’s, one of my favorite restaurants on Fort Myers Beach.

The cool morning had given way to the warmth of a full winter sun. Fortunate enough to land a table on the outside deck, we overlooked the Gulf Star Marina and Matanzas Pass for a leisurely two-hour meal.

Over a bowl of chunky conch chowder and a platter of zesty shrimp tacos, I read about White, the creator and part-owner of the Doc Ford’s Rum Bar & Grille chain. It is named for his famous protagonist, Doc Ford.

“Before I started writing novels,” White relates on the back of the menu, “back when I was a full-time fishing guide on Sanibel, I lived for a few years around 200 yards from where you’re sitting on a stilt house next to the shrimp docks.”

Looking across the water at the row of commercial fishing boats, I was hooked, so to speak, by the allure.

“I need to read something by Randy Wayne White,” I told Reggie. But I had neither a book at hand nor a break in my schedule.

After lunch, we meandered our way down the beach, eventually stopping at Annette Stillson’s Beach Book Nook, a new and used bookstore at Santini Marina Plaza.

I told Annette that I had just eaten at Doc Fords, so I wanted to read something by the namesake restaurant owner.

“You’ve never read anything by Randy Wayne White?” She sounded like CiCi. Climbing a small ladder, Annette reached into an upper shelf and pulled out Sanibel Flats. “Start with this one,” she said. “It’s the first in the series.

Of course. Start at the beginning. Doc Ford is a handsome, affable marine biologist and ladies’ man living in a stilt house in a marina on Sanibel Island, Florida. The former spy with ties to Central and South America is pulled back into a dangerous lifestyle when an old friend’s son is kidnapped. Doc recruits his hippie philosopher friend Tomlinson to help. In an Indiana Jones–type adventure, the odd couple zooms into a fast-paced—yet tightly structured—plot that includes jungle terrorists, ancient religions, a murder investigation, emeralds, and a search-and-rescue mission.

“But what about the fishing?” CiCi persisted with her favorite topic as she settled into a well-worn cushion. “Tell your followers about the sharks, tarpons, and snappers. And the scenery, the moods of the waters, the mangroves at sunset. And the love scenes. What about all that?”

Mimicking her aloof curiosity, I did a slow blink.

“That, CiCi, is for the reader to discover.”

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