Amelia Island

By Tobin Bennison

I was about 10 years old when my younger brother and I were carted off to Amelia Island Plantation for a long weekend stay. It seems our mother's friend had a timeshare there -- a posh, fully-equipped condo with a spectacular ocean view.

We had full run of the place -- gargantuan pool, tennis and volleyball courts, tether ball, horseshoes, shuffleboard, the beach, an arcade...the works -- but for four long days we never ventured beyond the grounds, and consequently, for years thereafter, I thought that when someone referred to Amelia Island, they meant the anally-manicured and frankly sterile Plantation. I've since learned otherwise, but it's still a common misconception that the upscale resort is all there is to enjoy on the state's northernmost barrier island.

Though the Plantation does dominate the southern end of the 13-mile-long finger and has helped spawn a cluster of exclusive hotels, condos and golf and boating clubs, progress has yet to engulf the entirety of the Amelia Island.

Congregated just south of the Georgia border, about 30 miles north east of Jacksonville, Amelia Island residents have managed to stave off encroaching development while nurturing its history as the only place in the nation to have endured the rule of eight flags since its original founding by the French.

The loosely-knit, semi-agrarian Timucuan Indians settled the area in the second century B.C. and archaeologists estimate a peak population of 30,000 natives shortly before Huguenot leader Jean Ribault claimed what he called "Isle de Mai" for his fellow religious outcasts in 1562. Three years later, the Spaniards, already well-ensconced in nearby St. Augustine, drove the French out and erected the mission of Santa Maria, only to be ousted in turn by the British in 1702, who named the island after King George II's daughter, Amelia.

After the close of the Revolutionary War, the British ceded the island back to Spain and in reaction to Jefferson's Embargo Act, it flourished as a haven of smuggling and piracy. In 1812, a group of civilians calling themselves the "Patriots of Amelia Island" seized control and raised their flag, relinquishing the island to the United States the following day. Following a brief period back under Spanish rule, the island flew under the "Green Cross of Florida," thanks to Scotsman Sir Gregor MacGregor and a small band of American patriots.

In a desperate bid to hold onto their acquisition, the new conquerors enlisted the help of one Luis Aury, a French mercenary serving with anti-Spanish Mexican revolutionaries. Aury agreed to help with arms and soldiers, but demanded command of the island in return, ostensibly placing the Mexican Republic in distant control. At long last the U.S. government seized Amelia Island, holding it "in trust" for Spain until 1821, when Florida became a territory. Thereafter, the island enjoyed a period of relative peace but for a six-month occupation by Confederate forces.

In 1861, David Levy Yulee, a powerful U.S. Senator and canny entrepreneur, built the State's first cross-state railroad, linking Amelia's lone town, Fernandina, with Cedar Key on the Gulf Coast. Though Yulee's dream of Fernandina's harbor surpassing Jacksonville's as north Florida's primary port was never fulfilled, the rail link he created lured scores of northern tourists.

From about 1870 to 1910, Amelia Island experienced a kind of "Golden Age," thanks to the elegant homes and hotels which sprouted up throughout Fernandina. The Egmont Hotel was considered to be one of the most opulent in the country during the early 1900s, and the Florida House (now a Bed and Breakfast) is the oldest surviving hotel in the State. When Henry Flagler's new rail line detoured much of the tourism further south, Fernandina and Amelia sunk into a period of slow decline until immigrant fishermen poured their energies into the area's neglected shrimping industry.

Apart from trading on its notoriety as "The Isle of Eight Flags," Amelia Island thrives today as the nation's primary source of white Atlantic shrimp, with some 2 million pounds caught by her modest fleet each year. In fact, Fernandina Beach is credited with being the birthplace of the modern commercial shrimping industry. The first major changes in the industry took place here: the use of the first power-driven shrimp boat, the fishing of offshore spots, and the advent of the otter trawl. This continued success in shrimping ensures that residents aren't nearly as hungry for visitors as you'd expect, and their good-natured reservation gives the town of Fernandina Beach a uniquely Floridian identity.

While the patricians roast in the sun at the southerly resorts, the hoi polloi enjoy Fernandina Beach's low-key energy, which emanates from downtown's 50-block historic district and its string of old storefronts and Victorian homes. Though visitors crowd the 40-foot hand-carved bar at Centre Street's gas lamp-lit Palace Saloon (reputedly the oldest in Florida), more recent establishments are just as intriguing. An amazing variety of eateries and taverns (over 25) can be found within Fernandina's bounds, from the common (T-Ray's Burger Station) to the rarefied (the gourmet Le Clos).

A short walk south from downtown is the informative Amelia Island Museum of History, which chronicles the confusing history of this coveted spot. From there, a short stroll east takes you to the initial stretch of the island's pristine beaches. Just north lies Fort Clinch State Park, which offers tours, re-enactments, and miles of priceless nature trails. Originally built to protect seaborne access to Georgia, Clinch's masonry walls rendered the fort obsolete by the opening salvoes of the Civil War. On a clear day, a look out over the water from her unfinished ramparts affords views of Georgia's famed Cumberland Island. A look south reveals the hazy expanse of the first African-American beach in Florida.

Called American Beach by founder A.L. Lewis, the area once boasted a wealth of Black-owned hotels, restaurants and night clubs, which booked the likes of Count Basie, Ray Charles, and Duke Ellington. It's now quickly disappearing in the wake of development, despite the efforts of Lewis' late great-granddaughter, Ma Vynee Betsch, an outspoken activist who locals referred to as "the Beach Lady." One of her last projects, the Black Heritage Museum, still stands, however, inspiring a new generation to preserve the area's rich legacy.

This Holiday Season is a particularly good time to visit Amelia Island and the beautifully-lit historic district. December 9th and 10th, Amelia Island innkeepers will open the doors to seven of the island's grandest homes for a rare glimpse into their regally-decorated interiors. Sample delicious food compliments of favorite local restaurateurs and enjoy Holiday songs by Dickensian carolers. December 9th sees the downtown Christmas Party celebration while the evening of the 10th hosts the 4th Annual Fernandina Beach Lighted Holiday Parade.