Paradise-Family Style

South Florida may never be the same. My husband and I took all the family to Anna Maria Island for a vacation. Vacation in the broadest sense of the word. We made Harvard Lampoon's "vacation" child's play. Wally World? Pshaw. Welcome to Wagner World!

Our grandchildren had not yet seen the ocean and it had been a while since every single one of us could go somewhere together. Dear friends have a place at Bradenton Beach on the island and I fell in love with the location. There are no high rises, no chain hotels or restaurants, no water parks or amusement rides. The island is only seven miles long and in some places, if you stand on the bay side, you can see the ocean side down the street. It is the Florida I remembered as a kid and I wanted to hurry and get there with my brood before it morphed into Ft. Lauderdale.

It only took three days, six trips to the airport and 2 rental cars to get everyone to our beach house. Catherine, out of college and gainfully employed could only stay three days, but we got her there and on the beach with the rest of her siblings. (She observed work was great if you just did not have to be there every day.) It was like the Bataan Death march to transport needed equipment and supplies to our sandy location, but like good Okies, we staked our claim every morning, complete with Ipod, canopy, loaded ice chests and pirate flag.

Our house was on the bay and Dolphin sightings became a regular part of our day. One of us would see them come up to the wall and run screaming into the house to get everyone. A manatee even showed up at our dock to check out the tourists. Grandaughter Annebelle really did learn to swim and took to jumping in the pool in her nightgown before breakfast. Before long, various uncles, Father's and Grandfather's would join her in the water. This was all before 8:00 in the morning. Even college and habitually late sleeping son was up early for omelette's and Key Lime Pie. (We ate it every meal).

In a nutshell, make that coconut shell, here are some adventures. Son-in -Law Greg went for his first deep sea fishing trip. The destination was 70 miles out into the Gulf of Mexico. Greg began to get deathly sea sick about one and a half miles into the bay. After a first rate expedition with many Grouper and Snapper, he claimed he had made the water more interesting for the fish and that the successful catch was due to him.

Toddler Wagner got locked in the car with a hysterical Mother and trying to be calm Grandfather frantically trying to unlock the rental vehicle. Wag flagged down the pair most likely to have a slim jim on their person. "Uh no man, but uh, why don't you just call 911?" Little did the rest of know as we lounged a mile down the beach that the fire truck and EMSA vehicle speeding by were going to rescue Wagner. He proudly returned with a fireman's hat on his head and a sheepish parent and grandparent in tow.

For some reason, we were all highly amused by the seagulls. We gave them names and commented on their individual personalities as we fed them potato chips and Teddy Grahams. Other beach revelers did not find it so amusing. I, too, did not find it so amusing when an unknown family member put a Dorito on my head. One eager gull helped himself. Let it be known that if seagull eats off your head, it is not lithe and birdlike. Think thunk and baseball bat. Everyone certainly found my reaction amusing.

Note: People on an island are really proud of their fish. They eat a lot of it. Grouper. Snapper. Tuna. Scallops. Shrimp. Crab. Mahi Mahi. A waiter's face kind of falls when you order chicken or a hamburger. Sorry Charlie. I consider fish a novelty, not a food group.

All the boys went sailing one afternoon. The girls wisely allowed them their boy time. It was a grand experience except for the nurse sharks they sailed over

and who circled the boat.

Another day we took a pontoon over to an uninhabited island that was an outpost during the Spanish-American War. My husband's grandfather was a Rough Rider with Teddy Roosevelt so Warren was ecstatic as he explored the gunnery turrets and look-out towers. There was good shelling but the Jelly Fish were in abundance. The game plan was to tread lightly and avoid their tentacles at all costs. Giant tortoises went about their business as we followed them through the jungle. Lizards as big as Iguanas ran between the flowers. Who needs to go to Galapagos? Darwin could have just headed southwest at Sarasota.

We ate too much. We stayed up too late. We laughed until tears rolled down our faces. We bought goofy t-shirts and silly sun glasses. We drank foo-foo drinks with umbrellas. We watched sunsets over the water and tried to catch the green flash. We told old stories and shared new ones. We walked alot. We drank fresh squeezed orange juice as the bay woke up around us. We did five loads of laundry a day. We took lots of pictures. We sailed and kayaked and wave- runnered and cruised. We cooked out and all sat around the Hasty Bake, just as our ancestors gathered around the fire and shared time. Three generations of family enjoyed the ocean, the sand, the island and most importantly, just being together.