Truly a Place where Time Stands Still

Maggie FitzRoy writing in the Florida Times-Union on Saturday, 07 February 2009.

A silvery dolphin leapt out of the water in front of our boat.

Ahead, in the distance, we could see a half-dozen people kayaking toward a deserted sandy beach on Atsena Otie Key.

Motoring around, we headed to a sunny island, off by itself, called Deadman’s Key, where a line of snowy white pelicans shared a long stretch of sand with a flock of black cormorants.

“They’re rare, they winter here,” Capt. Fred Severino said of the pelicans.

They were beautiful, and so was the small, quiet town of Cedar Key.

My son Jake and I took a dawn-to-dark day trip one recent winter day to explore Cedar Key and Cedar Keys National Wildlife Refuge on Florida’s Nature Coast on the Gulf of Mexico.

Cedar Key, an historic island community about 50 miles southwest of Gainesville, is a great place to relax, feast on fresh seafood and commune with nature. And the barrier islands off its coast are unspoiled habitat accessible by boat.

I’d been there once before for a weekend excursion, but since the town is about a three-hour drive from Northeast Florida’s coast, it’s also possible to explore it in a long day.

Visitors can rent bikes, golf carts, kayaks or take scenic boat cruises, which we decided to do so we could enjoy the entire area, which is billed as a place where time stands still.

When we drove over the first bridge that leads to the town, which is 3 miles out in the gulf, I decided to head straight for the Chamber of Commerce.

Representative Judy Johnson offered good advice about things to do, and told us key points about the town that was once one of the most important ports in the state. During the late 1800s, thriving industries included sponge-gathering, fishing and cutting cedar trees to make pencils, which were shipped around the world.

Atsena Otie Key, nearby off the coast of Cedar Key, was once a vital part of the city, and the ruins of a once-thriving pencil factory are still there to be explored by anyone who can get there by boat, she said.

We decided to take the two-hour Island Hopper scenic cruise from the marina nearby, which would take us out to see several islands. We’d also have plenty of time to see the town and sample some of the seafood for which it’s famous.

Jake, a senior at the University of Florida, had heard about great shrimp pie at Frog’s Landing Restaurant in the center of town, so I asked Johnson about that.

“Shrimp pie, oh yes, it’s the only thing I ever order there,” she said, confirming that going there for dinner would be a good move.

I asked her when most people visit the town.

“March and April,” she said.

“It’s a spring destination, for families, not college students. We don’t get the partying, hard-drinking college crowd...”

A lot of people come for fishing, “some people come simply to eat,” and some to soak up the history.

It’s a very historic town, with two museums, an historical society and an historic district, she said.

With one of the museums across the street, “you’re right in the heart of it.”

Leaving the Chamber of Commerce, we drove a few blocks to the city park, which has a beach overlooking the gulf, as well as a playground, restrooms and picnic tables.

“It is very quiet,” Jake said. Then he discovered an eastern red cedar tree on the corner.

He snapped off a piece of hanging dead branch and sniffed the wood inside.

It smelled like the pencils I used in elementary school.

The marina was next to the park, so we headed there to make reservations for the 1:30 p.m. boat tour.

We had about an hour before the tour left, so Island Hopper owner Billy Caudill recommended we catch lunch at nearby Tony’s Seafood Restaurant.

Caudill said the clam chowder was some of the best in the country, and he was right.

We each ordered the Super Bowl size of the white clam chowder for $9.99 each. By itself, it was worth the drive from Jacksonville. I could tell it was made with lots of fresh clams and real cream.

“Now I know why people come here just to eat,” I said.

Back at the dock, Caudill introduced us to “Capt. Fred” Severino, a tour guide who has lived in town since the 1960s.

Turned out we were his only customers for that midweek trip, so we had the boat and the captain’s attention all to ourselves.

“Every voyage is his maiden voyage,” Caudill said as he untied the rope and waved goodbye.

Our tour took us first past Atsena Otie, where Severino handed us some binoculars and pointed to an eagle’s nest in a tall tree.

“It’s a nice one,” he said. “They should be right proud of it.”

He also pointed to some brick pencil factory ruins and promised to tie up at the island on our way back.

As we cruised along slowly, we could see islands all around us, which Severino named and explained.

Snake Key was once a place where people with yellow fever, scarlet fever, mumps, measles and cholera were quarantined.

Seahorse Key is a bird sanctuary and the site of a University of Florida marine lab. Home to 156 snakes per acre, it also has one of the largest brown pelican populations in Florida, as well as a lighthouse that is open to visitors a few days during the year.

“It’s never going to change,” he said of the area, because all the islands are owned and protected by the U.S. government. “We don’t have any red lights. Not too much happening.”

When we went ashore at Atsena Otie, it wasn’t difficult to imagine that it was once a place where a lot happened, where people lived and worked.

Jake and I followed a sandy path through a woods dotted with brick ruins now overgrown with palmettos and tall trees.

At the end of the path we came to a cemetery filled with tombstones of people who’d been buried in the 1800s.

When we got off the boat back in town, we went to Cedar Key Museum State Park where we learned that during the 1880s Cedar Key ranked with Jacksonville, Fernandina, Pensacola and Key West as one of Florida’s most important ports.

A railroad from Fernandina to Cedar Key was the most important in the state, and the Faber Co. at that time made 500 different kinds of cedar pencils with graphite from Siberia.

Then, on Sept. 29, 1896, a hurricane destroyed everyday life in the “Venice of America” and several hundred people perished.

By 1900, timber resources were largely exhausted from lack of any kind of conservation policy.

I’m glad the area is nationally protected now.

Leaving the small museum, we headed back downtown to the waterfront area, dotted with restaurants and shops, just in time to enjoy a colorful sunset.

People fished and socialized on a wide pier as they watched the sun slowly sink.

An occasional boat whizzed by as the disappearing sun painted the water pale purple.

We went into Frog’s Landing for our shrimp pie. It looked like a pizza, very cheesy and loaded with shrimp. Delicious.

The town was dark, houses and shops lit with twinkling lights as we made our way to our car then out of Cedar Key.

It was a delightful, relaxing breakaway and I want to go back, perhaps in the summer or fall.

I’d like to kayak between islands, sample more seafood, and climb that lighthouse on Seahorse Key.