Sanctuary manager Mobley has his memories, too. Aboard the 62-foot
NOAA vessel Shearwater, Mobley once found himself surrounded by the
grandest creatures on earth.
"Twelve blue whales," he says. "They were feeding, taking dives,
showing their tails. Each one of those whales was twice as large as
our boat. It was unbelievable."
Many of the sanctuaries are reached by boat (plenty of
commercial outfitters offer trips), but some nestle right up
against the mainland.
The waters immediately surrounding most of the 1,700 islands that
comprise the
Florida Keys have been designated as a national
marine sanctuary since 1990. Step off most beaches, throttle a
boat, or push a kayak from almost any boat ramp, and you are
smack-dab in the sanctuary, making the Florida Keys National Marine
Sanctuary (floridakeys.noaa.gov, 305-743-2437) one of the most
convenient sanctuaries in which to play. An added convenience is
that, everywhere you turn, there are outfitters who offer every
means of watery pleasure - world-class fishing, reef and wreck
diving, kayaking, mangrove and glass-bottom-boat tours, or simply
drifting beneath a blood-red sunset, mai tai in hand. It's as if
Disneyland has plunked its concessions in the heart of
Yosemite.
Wilderness purists might look down on this commercial
conflagration, but it doesn't bother me, because in the Keys, there
is still plenty of water to escape to. Such is the magic of
wilderness.
On Summerland Key, I push my kayak into the water and paddle west
into Florida Bay. Cumulus clouds erupt into the sky like cotton
candy towers. Beneath the kayak, sand and sea grass slide languidly
past.
I paddle until I find what I am looking for. Tying the kayak to a
branch that juts from the mangrove hammock, I pull on fins, mask,
and a snorkel, and slide in.