10/25/2022
North Captiva Strong
Upper Captiva Island (aka, North Captiva Island) is a speck, a 1.37 square mile bit of beaches and flora seven miles from the Florida mainland, out in the Gulf of Mexico. There is no bridge to Upper Captiva, and it is not easy to find. But Hurricane Ian found Upper Captiva, as did Ian’s satanic forebear, Hurricane Charley. These two brutish storms were preceded by Hurricane 6 that created Upper Captiva in October 1921.
Imagine. The Gulf of Mexico is 617,800 sq. miles. There are 8,436 miles of Florida coastline. Yet, the only place in American history to be the first landfall for two Category 4/5 hurricanes is Upper Captiva.
Tiny Upper Captiva, 800 or so, acres of tropical flora, glistering beaches, gopher tortoises, and loving and lovely homeowners and workers and friends.
There are no cars on Upper Captiva. No stores. No Starbucks. No motels. No resident police. No post office. No zip code.
All Upper Captiva has is courage, generosity and grit.
Upper Captiva is part of Lee County. In ordinary times, Lee County provides Upper Captiva with occasional mosquito control fly overs, and superb ice and snow removal. These are not ordinary times.
Though Hurricane Ian pounded UC with 155+ mph winds, waterfalls of rain, and mountains of sea water, Ian devastated Pine Island and Matlacha and Ft. Myers, destroying homes, bridges, boats, knocking out the grid and killing people.
Upper Captiva knew they would be the last priority for Lee County. They understood fellow Floridians should come first. The homeowners and residents of UC were on their own. No complaints. No fretting. No boo-hoo-hoo.
The people came together. They united. They helped each other. They collaborated. Watched over neighbors’ empty houses. Boarded and tarped others’ damaged walls and roofs. They shared generators and scarce gasoline and propane. They shared stores of water, tools, batteries and hundreds of bags of ice; anything and everything they had that another needed.
One, or more homeowners, with generator-powered water offered showers to anyone. Bring your own towels. A self-described barbeque master grilled hot dogs and hamburgers freely hosted forty, fifty, sixty residents and workers every noon. Bring your own napkins. One donated ice. Take a bag, leave a bag for another.
Upper Captiva replaced talk with action. UC homeowners prioritized getting money, their money, into the pockets of people whose island jobs, and in many cases mainland houses, were washed away. Upfront money. No questions. No receipts. No contracts. No red tape.
People with means gave more than they should.
People with lesser means gave more than they could.
Alas, in times of catastrophe, there are the immoral, the malign, those without honor. The runaways, the profiteers, the price gougers, the takers. But be it known that one Calusa God, a serious God, the Fierce Spirit of Weather saw all…and doesn’t forgive.
The good and great people of Upper Captiva began at dawn to clear the island’s quaint seashell lanes, by hand, with small tools. The air throbbed with chainsaws and generators and air hammers. The people never quit; they paused work at dusk.
In days, Upper Captiva designed “North Captiva Strong” t-shirts. They announced the forthcoming publication of a North Captiva Strong cookbook, comprised of local island recipes. UC began selling the shirts and caps and cookbooks to friends of the island throughout the world.
In days, Upper Captiva’s selfless, fearless local boat captains and boat owners, big and small, formed the North Captiva Navy. The Navy immediately brought people and essentials to the Island. The Navy asked for nothing. No gouging. No extortion. Simply, saints and Samaritans.
In days, designers from California and Nantucket created wonderful logos and graphics for the Navy’s flag, the shirts, the cookbook.
In days, homeowners and friends filled trailers and pickup trucks and SUVs with gasoline, tarps, gloves, tools, tape, propane, engine oil, grease, trash bags, rubber boots, scotch, vodka and Courvoisier and Benjamins.
In days, owners drove from Texas, Maine, Connecticut, Ohio, Wisconsin, Minneapolis, Atlanta, St. Louis, Pennsylvania. They drove all day and night. They met the North Captiva Navy at random marinas, open, closed, destroyed.
The Upper Captiva Civic Association membership overwhelmingly voted to donate its entire island access fund to help all. Lee County officials shipped in quantities of water, gasoline, medical supplies. Lil Mo, a huge mystery barge, used during Vietnam War, loaded with donations from Publix Stores and other generous organizations, magically loomed out of the mist of Pine Island Sound, and unloaded at the air strip. Lee County Electric Cooperative, bolstered by line workers from all over the USA, worked 24 hours a day to bring power back to Upper Captiva. Governor DeSantis and his teams did the astonishing.
All money raised by Upper Captiva, every cent, stays on the Island, for workers and the needy. Every penny!
North Captiva Strong baby! North Captiva Strong!
And when the next Ian or Charley or Lucifer wants to hit our little spec of paradise, hear this: Take your wind and surge and shove it. Upper Captivians are stronger than you.
North Captiva ever strong.
Jeffrey Fox. Coral Circle, UC
