Gift Horse?

These two 'bonus" buildings turned out to be a lot more work than I ever expected! The first property I bought in Otter Creek was an old hunting camp with three buildings. The old white cracker house in back is the reason I bought it. I also thought a LITTLE work on these two "newer" buildings would give me a base to work from.

I expected termite damage but not the extent. Not only termites, but suberraneans and drywoods, powder post beetles and carpenter ants, a complete eco system between the walls and a fox den in the torn A/C vents underneath.

We tore down the breezeway which seemed to double as a walk-in cooler. Very novel panel construction of foam sandwiched between sheet metal. Imagine the venison and wild boar hanging in there.

(you can see the white cracker in the left rear of this photo, you can also see some of the walls we had to completely replace)

We replaced those walls, opened all the others, treated all cavities with boracare and the piers with termador. Nite, nite termite.

Why They Call It the Nature Coast

It starts in the forested swamps miles away, the thick sweet odors hinting of the low country coast beyond. Spanish moss thrives in this rich air, exotic water plants fill the roadside ditch, wild flowers litter the sides of the two lane roads. You’re being subtly prepared for the coming mangrove island musk, your first waft from the pluff mud flats at low tide, the sweet rot of the saltwater wetlands.

Bands of showers and thunderstorms sweep east over the Gulf from Texas and Louisiana to refresh the cypress swamps, feed the rivers and deliver nutrients to the aquatic nursery. Oyster men rake the flats, clam farmers tend their submerged crops, shrimpers skim the surface, watermen draw their livelihood from the rich, shallow sea. Flats extend for miles off the coast, dotted with mangrove islands, one developed as a railroad terminus and thriving Gulf port long ago, most pristine and protected.



The Cedar Keys, Suwannee and Horseshoe Beach are the old towns along this stretch, called the Nature Coast. Each one, out of the way, more than 20 miles down dead end roads. They’re reached off 19/98, the old highway of roadside attractions and forgotten since the Interstate. Turn west at Otter Creek, Old Town or Cross City for your ride through the tree farms and stretches of undisturbed wetlands. Down those narrow roads you’ll catch glimpses of the quickly fading Old Florida, the self-sufficient, resourceful, coastal lifestyle of the original settlers and their descendents.



About the time you think you’re lost, you break out of the forest, out of the hammocks, into the sunrise to sunset vistas across the sawgrass, the pluff mud shallows, and their mangrove islands. You marvel at the unobstructed Gulf views, already discovered by artists, writers, bird watchers, flats fishermen, kayakers and retirees. The original waterborne lifestyle, weakened by fishing regulation, is now threatened by the attraction of the isolated wilderness that once protected it.

This is where Cracker Joe is creating his third island getaway, the turquoise cracker house will be restored and moved to the coast this summer, elevated on a waterfront lot in Cedar Key to command unobstructable sunrise views to the southeast, served by a saltwater dock and housing a office/studio/gallery/shop in the breakaway space between the pilings.