WELCOME TO TIDE + TALE!
That's me over there on the right. (Or if you're reading on mobile, that's me way down this page, hiding under the map.)
I'm a human, writing words and taking pictures of things outside. I put these words and pictures together to make you want to get up, go outside, play, fish, dance in the rain, or whatever it is that invigorates your human soul.
I canceled my cable TV, got a camera and started this blog for people who love the great outdoors.
Settle in, grab a drink and look around. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.
When I was 14, I got certified to scuba dive, but I never went.
At 28, I took a refresher course, bought the gear and decided it was time to try again. Never happened.
Eventually at 29, four days in the Florida Keys presented me the chance to finally take the plunge. I should've been excited, but I only felt unsettled. What if I'm attacked by a shark? What if I panic underwater and drown? What if I forget what to do?
Are you really even American until you visit the first and oldest city in the United States?
Sorry, New Englanders. Long before Jamestown and Plymouth Rock, there was a small, coastal settlement founded by Spanish admiral, Pedro Menéndez de Avilés, in 1565.
The city is St. Augustine. The location is the northeast corner of Florida, just south of Jacksonville.
Like most stories of colonial conquistadors, this one entails a long history of bloody battles between European settlers, the Spanish and Native Americans.
Somehow I breezed by in high school without giving my full academic effort. Yes, I admit good grades just came naturally (except for math). Many Florida high school students remember being assigned to read A Land Remembered - a historical novel by Patrick D. Smith set in the pioneer days of Florida. Of course, I never read it.
Driving into West Ashley on Highway 17, it finally began to look like the “Charleston” I’ve seen photographed in my Instagram feed. The kind of backdrop where a plaid-shirted angler drips a redfish over the side of a custom Gheenoe. Or poles a creek from atop a platform, scouting for morning prospects.
What started as one fishing guide protesting on the Caloosahatchee River bridge has grown to be a nationally-recognized non-profit that has become a powerful voice in the fight against a decades-old water crisis.
Daniel Andrews, a full-time fishing guide in Southwest Florida, was protesting the Lake Okeechobee discharges that have long been polluting our Florida estuaries and were now threatening the lifeblood of his business. He held a handmade sign painted with four words
It’s been 6 months since we first washed up on the shores of Fort Jefferson, right alongside a deserted Cuban refugee raft emblazoned with the words “Vamos Con Dios.”
Translation: We Go With God.
A haunting welcome to a place that couldn’t be more paradoxical. Sinister remnants of a 19th-century military fortress, splattered across a backdrop of paradise - blue skies, turquoise waters and silver flashes of rolling tarpon.
The year winds down. Only a few weeks left in 2016. As the notion settles in, panic begins to race through your mind. “Where did the time go? How is it almost 2017?! Did I do anything truly notable this year?? How did I get so OLD?? What am I going to do with my life? I’m running out of time, I better make my New Year’s resolutions if I have any chance of being a better me!!”
These words hit me almost with a pang of guilt. Two things I enjoy most in this world, boating and fishing, and so easily take for granted.
Jeff Barnes, the Eastern Regional Director of C.A.S.T. for Kids, was giving us a rundown on the history of the non-profit charity. Just the night before, what started as a heart-to-heart led Mike and I down a path that we had both been pulled toward for quite a while and hadn’t yet realized.
Lobster season is practically the kickoff to the American holiday season. Fanatics migrate to Florida, namely the Keys, from all over the world to dive into the deep blue and hunt some “bugs.”
While planning Mike's big birthday trip this year, we decided to forego the madness and wait until regular lobster season opens on August 6.
Ah, Florida, how I love thee. Somewhere between the stereotypes and tourist traps lie small towns and treasures where the great outdoors still thrive.
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13650 Fiddlesticks Blvd, Suite 202-221
Fort Myers, FL 33912