Newberry Village debate a preview of constitutional amendment battle

CINDY SWIRKO

Sun staff writer

A proposal to let voters decide if regulatory changes should be made to allow a mixed-use development on Newberry Road will be considered by the Alachua County Commission Tuesday.

The proposal is a settlement offer by Brad Stith, a Gainesville resident who has filed a legal challenge to action taken by the commission last year for Newberry Village on Newberry Road at Fort Clarke Boulevard .

"We're basically hoping the commissioners will let the citizens decide about this thing," Stith said. "I imagine there will be some discussion on whether it is legal and whether it is a good idea. It is a way to settle this without going through a giant battle like what went on with Springhills."

While the settlement deals only with Newberry Village, the remedy it seeks is a preview of a debate that may heat up in 2008 over a proposed constitutional amendment pushed by Florida Hometown Democracy, a group co-founded by Stith's Tallahassee attorney, Ross Burnaman.

The proposed state constitutional amendment would require that changes to a comprehensive plan - a city or county's blueprint for growth - be done through voter referendums rather than approval by commissions.

Supporters believe it is a way to give residents a direct say on whether new development that impacts the environment, the economy, traffic, schools, stormwater and other services should be allowed.

"A lot of the comp plan amendments I see are for increases in density or intensity - taking agriculture land and jacking it up for some sort of mixed-use development," Burnaman said. "A lot of people don't have any idea about what is being changed. If it is brought to their attention via the ballot, and the more educated they are about the long-term growth plans of their community, they might say, â€òGosh, that doesn't make sense,' or, â€òGosh, we can do this better.' They will become more informed."

Opponents argue the proposal would lead to costly special elections, lengthy ballots and other issues.

"Many of these issues, especially on comp plan amendments, are complicated and require a great deal of study and consideration," said Brent Christensen, president of the Gainesville Area Chamber of Commerce. "They are probably not well-handled in a voter booth with just a few minutes to consider each one of them."

The Miami development firm New Urban Works wants to build Newberry Village, a mix of 900 residences, 240,000 square feet of retail and 27,000 square feet of office space. It needs a comprehensive plan amendment to move forward.

Traffic is a major problem, according to the state. The added traffic from Newberry Village will send the area over the traffic limits for which it was designed.

New Urban Works is requesting a concurrency exception area based on a plan to provide shuttle bus service to The Oaks Mall at peak times to reduce the amount of traffic Newberry Village will create. From the mall, riders can take Gainesville 's Regional Transit System buses.

County commissioners on a 3-2 vote in August gave initial approval, agreeing to send the Newberry Village plan to the state Department of Community Affairs for review.

The plan has created considerable opposition. The group Save Newberry Road was formed as a result.

The DCA found the amendment was not in compliance with growth-management laws. It filed an action against the county with the state Division of Administrative Hearings.

Stith also filed a legal challenge. The parties have been meeting to try to resolve differences. Stith's settlement offer is a part of that effort.

The offer requests the County Commission put the plan amendment to a referendum vote. If voters approve the change, Stith will drop his challenge. If the public denies the change, the commission will rescind its action on Newberry Village .

Alachua County 's legal staff is recommending the commission not put the matter to a public vote and instead continue to negotiate a settlement. An alternative is to repeal or modify the comprehensive plan amendment.

County lawyers said several legal questions are involved, including whether the county has authority to hold a binding referendum on a plan amendment.

A majority of commissioners said they oppose the concept of voter referendums on comprehensive plan amendments.

Chairwoman Paula DeLaney said she met with Stith and told him she will not support the settlement proposal.

"I don't think we should go down this path. When I go into meetings, I have frequently read hundreds, if not thousands, of pages of backup. People who read a newspaper article and see a 30-second TV spot - that's going to be their point of reference for making these decisions? I don't think that's fair to the property owner or the rest of the citizens," DeLaney said. "People are busy. They are not experts. I don't know how you can expect people to make really responsible decisions without doing much research. Then you are up against some big developer who has way more money to do a marketing campaign."

Commissioners Cynthia Chestnut and Lee Pinkoson also pointed out that voters elect commissioners to tackle these sorts of issues.

"I think that's why you have elections and people to represent you," Chestnut said.

Pinkoson added that the commission's recent decision to deny an expanded Springhills development proposal at Interstate 75 and 39th Avenue shows the commission will reject developments it does not believe meet the comprehensive plan.

Springhills is a development of regional impact that sought a comprehensive plan amendment to expand the amount of retail space it can build in an attempt to bring in big-box stores. A large opposition group formed. Traffic was again a primary issue. Commissioners voted unanimously to deny the request.

Meanwhile, Florida Hometown Democracy is trying to gather enough signatures to get a constitutional amendment on the 2008 ballot that would require that changes to a comprehensive plan be done through voter referendums.

Environmental groups such as the Sierra Club and the Save the Manatee Club support it. Business groups including the Florida Home Builders Association and the Florida Chamber of Commerce are opposed.

Worried retirees the real losers in Edgewater land fight

Scott Maxwell  Orlando Sentinel

Published May 20, 2007

Just outside Edith Gaulin's single-wide trailer is a vacant lot, topped only with rubble from an abandoned set of stairs that once led to a neighbor's trailer. A few feet away, 18-wheelers rumble loudly down a busy street.

The locale seems an unlikely one to be in the middle of a land fight.

But it is. And no matter which side wins, Edith will lose.

The land upon which her trailer sits, you see, is close to Edgewater High School -- a bursting-at-the-seams campus that needs to be expanded. And, just last year, a development company bought the land, vowing to build condos and shops.

One way or another, 80-year-old Edith will go.

Eviction notices have already been issued to her and more than 100 of her neighbors. They are retired janitors and teachers, grandparents and veterans who have lived there for years, even decades -- all now being told to leave.

In fact, the developers, Demetree Builders, have stopped accepting lease money. And residents simply aren't sure what day will be their last.

"We are all so nervous and depressed," Edith said. "There are people on Hospice in here. Some don't have enough money to move. It's like we're just a bunch of old people who have been forgotten. And it's sad."

It is sad. But it's also the law. Residents of mobile-home parks like this are merely tenants. They don't own the land. So they don't profit from the sale.

And moving will be costly. Many own trailers that are so old and out of code that they can't legally be moved to other parks. They'll have to start all over again from scratch . . . at age 80. Another casualty of Florida 's insatiable appetite for growth.

Still, there is a possibility that the residents won't be devastated.

If the Orange County School Board condemns the land, state law would most likely require the government to help Edith and her neighbors start new lives. The formulas are complicated and even debatable. But residents could get something like $10,000 or the replacement value of the mobile homes they would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be a windfall. But it would be enough to start over.

But if Demetree, as a private company, kicks them out, the law requires much less: payments of as little as $1,300 for a regular trailer, according to the company.

Thirteen-hundred dollars for elderly residents -- many of whom would be forced to abandon homes in which they have sunk most of their savings and where they had planned on living the rest of their days.

Welcome to free enterprise.

But there's more to the story. Demetree didn't even buy the land until last year -- after company representatives knew that school officials talked about wanting it.

So did Demetree buy the mobile-home park, knowing that the School Board needed it and trying to make a buck off taxpayers, with elderly trailer dwellers as mere pawns in the game?

The School Board's condemnation attorney, Jay Small, says he doesn't know for sure. What he does know, though, is that Demetree didn't buy the property until after company reps attended meetings where they learned that the School Board was eyeing the same swath of land.

Demetree says it played no games. CEO Ron Schwartz said he and his company had wanted the trailer park for years, since it was contiguous to property it already owned. And when the land finally went up for sale, they pounced.

Schwartz said he wants to build his condo project. "My dream-come-true," he said, "is that the School Board would leave us alone."

Alachua extends temporary ban on mobile homes
By Drew Harwell
For The High Springs Herald

ALACHUA -- A city commission-supported suspension on new mobile homes in the city of Alachua has been extended by 91 days, increasing the duration of the ban to about five months in total.

Commissioners approved the ordinance, which was prepared by Assistant City Manager Danielle Judd, during the May 7 meeting.

Judd said the suspension was enacted in order to help city staff review recent changes to the Florida Statutes regarding mobile homes and how they would affect Alachua's land development regulations.

The suspension began on Feb. 26, but Judd said the 61 days it provided for did not give the city enough time to research new changes. With the 91-day addition, Judd estimated changes will be reported to the commission July 16 and the ban will expire July 28.

Current land development regulations specify several different rules for mobile homes: they must be more than 20 feet wide, have transportation-related equipment like hitches and wheels removed and must be anchored permanently in the ground.

One regulation dictates that a mobile home’s exterior must look "similar in texture, color and materials to detached single-family dwellings" near the home, though the document does not detail how similar.

Judd was quick to state in an interview that this moratorium does not affect current mobile home residents. However, residents looking to add a new mobile home onto a new lot will not be granted building permits until the suspension ends.

Public Can Weigh In On LP Plan Tuesday

By Douglas  Carman of Highlands Today

Published: May 21, 2007

LAKE PLACID — The town's growth management committee spent 48 sessions and two years on the plan, but Tuesday they're asking for local input.

The report, which includes proposals for everything from utility hook-ups to land zoning for the town and its surrounding area, is set for public discussion Tuesday evening at Lake Placid High School 's common area.

This is the final step in the two-year process of the plan before the town council votes on it May 29. It will also come to a vote on June 12 at the Highlands County Commissioners' meeting.

The 26-page report's suggestions include:

* Allowing up to three units per acre for new developments in and around Lake Placid . This density is similiar to that of Sun 'n' Lakes and Sylvan Shores .

* Setting up bike paths and sidewalks for the main streets in the north and south sides of town, and also setting aside 25-acre plots for future elementary schools at each end of the town,

* Making S.R. 8 a four-lane road,

* Undergrounding all power lines in future developments, and adopting a $2 surcharge on each person's electric bill to cover the expenses.

* Requiring all lots smaller than three-fourths of an acre to hook up to a central sewer system.

* Getting Lake Placid to take over the area's utilities, including Placid Utilities whose acquisition has been opposed by many Tomoka Heights residents.

* Requiring big box stores, if they move into the area, to make themselves hidden from the street while using architectural features to avoid the "box look."

At two meetings earlier this month with the Lake Placid Board of Realtors and the Chamber of Commerce, Growth Management Committee Chairman Ray Royce and Town Attorney Bert Harris already gauged some support for the plan, but some in the audience at the Realtor meeting grilled Royce over the Placid Utilities acquisition. Residents of Tomoka Heights have alleged that the water service would decline if the county gave Placid Utilities to the town.

'Slow growth' commissioners reflect on progress

Joshua Davidovich
Staff Writer

TAVARES - In the six months since two new county commissioners took their seats in a wave of slow growth sentiment, the board has approved hardly any new developments.

But commissioners Elaine Renick and Linda Stewart don't want all the credit.

Renick and Stewart say a nationwide housing slowdown and a state issued moratorium on new large developments did the job for them.

"The housing growth took care of itself," Stewart said. "There was no help from us."

Lake County residents overwhelmingly voted in Stewart and Renick over longtime incumbents Catherine Hanson and Bob Pool, hoping they would curb what many saw as unchecked growth in Lake County .

Even though they haven't had a chance to prove their slow growth chops, Renick and Stewart feel they have made gains.

"I see everything through a slow growth filter," Renick said. "There are things we have done that fit in with what we stand for."

Renick and Stewart helped change the makeup of the Local Planning Agency, which is updating the county's comprehensive plan, by placing two slow growth advocates on the board.

And while another slow growth initiative by Renick, doing away with land use talk between developers and commissioner, failed, Renick says she still came out with a compromise that makes it harder for developers to approach commissioners by forcing them to sign in to a publicly accessible notebook.

"Sometimes things work out in a way you can't foresee," she said. "I think it's a good compromise. It's getting info to the public that they didn't have before."

Stewart, who said she focused more on bringing new jobs to the area rather than just slowing down growth, said she also has been able to carry out her mandate.

"There is a new focus on our business community," she said.

Stewart also pointed to new water conservation methods being floated as a success of the new commission.

But at a recent county commission presentation on water efficient landscaping, it was mentioned that many conservation efforts were already being discussed before Stewart took office.

"Linda has some of the same ideas Catherine (Hanson) did," Commissioner Debbie Stivender later said.

Indeed, some on the commission say they haven't seen much of a change in the way the commission is run.

"The only changes I've seen are with the economy and the market that's dropped," Stivender said. "We're status quo."

Even the post meeting banter seems the same as before November.

"We had a pretty collegial body to start with," Commission Chairman Welton Cadwell, who has been on the commission for 14 years, said. "I've been here through a lot of different boards but I think its seamless."

Nonetheless, Renick and Stewart believe they are doing what needs to be done to serve their constituents.

"I have a long to do list," Renick said.

Toll revenue paves roads less traveled

Dan Tracy and Jay Hamburg
Sentinel Staff Writers

May 21, 2007

State Road 408 is the cash cow of the region's expressway system.

The 22-mile east-west stretch of asphalt represents little more than 20 percent of the toll-road system but generates more than 40 percent of its revenue.

This year, the 408 will spin off more than $80 million. And the Orlando-Orange County Expressway Authority will use that to help pay for all the other newer, lesser-traveled roads it operates -- such as State Road 429, which is about the same length as the 408 but generates just one-fifth as much in tolls.

And that bothers Aaron Kaufman, a television captioner who pays about $1,200 a year in tolls, much of it on the 408.

Like many other area toll-payers, he contends the road-building agency should back off its seemingly nonstop expansion and improvement plans and instead reduce tolls. Or better yet, eliminate them like Jacksonville did in 1988.

"It's reasonable," Kaufman said. "But it will never happen."

He's right -- at least for now. The authority has no intention of slowing down, promising to build even more roads farther from the downtown core to meet the demands of Central Florida 's growth and burgeoning traffic congestion.

Whether it's the proposed Wekiva Parkway in northwest Orange County or other possible new roads into surrounding counties, those expressways would be impossible without the money Kaufman and others pay to drive the 408. In fact, commuters on the 408 may end up paying higher tolls to support those future roads.

Though authority officials have postponed talking about a toll increase as they await the outcome of two investigations into the agency's financial affairs, they have left little doubt they intend to revisit the idea.

They maintain that at least $1 billion worth of new roads and improvements is needed -- and cannot be paid for without higher tolls.

Kaufman said he's tired of underwriting the needs of others: "The only reason [for new toll roads] is to open up to development."

But Orange County Mayor and authority Chairman Rich Crotty said it would be foolish for the agency to stop building roads. One of his main ambitions is completing a beltway around Orlando , which now lacks only the Wekiwa Parkway , a northwestern segment linking Apopka and Sanford.

"The goal for the whole hasn't been achieved yet," Crotty said.

Fellow authority-board member Harvey Massey agrees with Crotty about laying more asphalt and concrete and said taking money from the 408 to pay for other projects is excellent public policy.

"I just think it's the greater good," Massey said. "That's the way the system works."

Combining borrowed funds with savings from excess toll revenues, the authority has more money to build roads in Central Florida than any other area government entity, including the state and Orange County . By comparison, the Florida Department of Transportation has about half as much as the Orlando authority to spend locally during the next five years.

Even without a toll increase, the agency is set to sell $425 million worth of bonds next month as part of a $1.2 billion expansion of roads and interchanges during the next five years.

The authority brings in $200 million annually in tolls.

But motorists such as William Kunneke don't like seeing their quarters building roads they never use.

The computer programmer says it's bad enough that his commute costs him $120 a month in tolls, but the idea of his money going toward building other roads instead of paying off the ones he drives on frustrates him. He is especially vexed by the agency's long-term plans to possibly build roads -- some of which would be part of the beltway -- in Brevard, Lake and Volusia counties.

"I can't stand to pay those tolls," said Kunneke, who lives near UCF and commutes to his job in the Celebration area. "But I would be absolutely livid if that money went elsewhere. It's a slap in the face. I can't express the anger I'd feel."

Kunneke said he would find other ways to get to work: "I don't care if it took me an extra 45 minutes, I'd do it."

He also disapproves of recent revelations that $107,500 in toll money was paid without board approval to political consultant Doug Guetzloe for a report on why people dislike paying tolls. That triggered an agency reorganization and led the Orange County comptroller and the Orange-Osceola State Attorney's Office to look into the organization books.

"They are the epitome of waste," Kunneke said of the authority. "It drives me nuts."

But not everyone is against paying tolls. Mark Squires, a Maitland commercial Realtor who estimates he drives nearly 300 miles a week, supports any new roads, tolled or otherwise.

"Let's put the pedal to the metal on this," Squires said. "It [toll roads] is the most democratic system you've got. You pay as far as you go."

Anti-toll enthusiasts often praise Jacksonville because it is one of the few places where tolls were removed from roads. But a study commissioned by the Orlando authority points out that Jacksonville 's system was set up differently than Orlando 's.

Unlike in Orlando, Jacksonville's road builders were allowed to use tolls for transportation projects outside of its expressway, according to the 2004 report by the Center for Urban Transportation Research at the University of South Florida.

Jacksonville took off tolls on bridges going over the St. Johns River in 1988 because the tollbooths had become frustrating bottlenecks in the middle of the city. It replaced the revenue with a half-cent sales tax -- often a hard sell to voters -- because it seemed like a better option than continual backups to many commuters.

By contrast, the Orlando toll agency does not have the choice of using a new tax to pay off bonds.

And Crotty said roads such as Interstate 4 that people regard as "free" really aren't -- they're paid for by gas or property taxes. The funds to build and maintain both ultimately come out of wallets of users.

"There's freeways and tollways," he said. "One of those is a big lie."

Driving for dollars

Find out how much revenue comes from some of the most-traveled and least-traveled toll roads in the region.

Dan Tracy can be reached at 407-420-5444 or dtracy@orlandosentinel.com. Jay Hamburg can be reached at 407-420-5673 or jhamburg@orlandosentinel.com. Dredging details draw dissent

By DAN DEWITT
Published May 21, 2007

HERNANDO BEACH - Richard Doyle thinks he has good reason to object to a plan to dump sand dredged from the Hernando Beach channel on land next to his house.

The material will fill in four-tenths of an acre of wetlands that the county and the property's owners had vowed not to disturb. The sand will be pumped onto the property as a briny slurry, killing most of the oaks on the 3-acre parcel. Dump trucks carting it away will roll up and down a narrow, residential street: Eagle Nest Drive .

Even so, Doyle said as he stood looking over a fence along the property, "We're the bad guys."

This is an environmental battle with a twist. Doyle and other opponents are up against not only the county and a powerful landowner - Brooksville's Manuel family - but also against most other residents of Hernando Beach .

"It's 99.9 percent of the community against 14," said Cecelia Lindsey of the Hernando Beach Property Owners Association, referring to the number of residents who have complained about the plan to the state Department of Environmental Protection.

Most Hernando Beach residents, she said, are desperate for the county to start digging a wider and deeper channel and adamantly oppose anything that could further delay the dredge, which has been planned since 1993.

Work on the $9-million project will begin this summer if the Army Corps of Engineers and the DEP issue permits to pump the sand onto the Manuel property, said Gregg Sutton, assistant county engineer and the dredge's project manager.

Parts of the channel are now less than 3 feet deep at low tide, Sutton said, meaning recreational boaters and shrimping vessels often must wait for high tide before they can enter or return from the gulf. The dredge will ensure that the channel is at least 6 feet deep and 60 feet wide, allowing boats enough room to pass safely.

"I think lives are more important than a little inconvenience to these people on Eagle Nest," Lindsey said.

Opponents of the plan to pump sand to the Manuel property all say they favor the dredge, but they cite the history of a different project.

They were part of a larger group of Hernando Beach residents who in 2005 objected to the Manuels' plans to build two small subdivisions on land along Eagle Nest.

Both of the properties, Insteada and Eagle Point, jut into the Minnow Creek estuary on the north edge of Hernando Beach . The residents' main concern was that the developments would destroy wetlands. Gene Manuel, the founder of Coastal Engineering Associates, and his son, Cliff, the firm's current president, repeatedly assured them they would not.

"We don't want to develop the wetlands," Cliff Manuel said in 2005.

Sutton, who had already identified the Manuels' Eagle Point property as a possible disposal site for the dredged sand, also said the county would not fill in wetlands. The county Planning and Zoning Commission included that as a condition for Eagle Point at its meeting Dec. 12, 2005, when it approved a plan to divide the 3 acres into 11 residential lots.

"No vertical seawalls, individual boat ramps or fill will be allowed within the Class 1 wetlands," according to the plan.

Class 1 wetlands are defined by the county as larger than a half-acre or bordering a significant body of water. The wetland that will be filled is isolated from the estuary by uplands. Also, Sutton said, the state requires the county to compensate for the destruction of this marsh by creating new wetlands nearby.

Even if the marsh on the Manuel property were classified as a Class 1 wetland, Sutton said, the county would be justified in changing the plans because of the advantages of using the property. The sand will be stored until it dries, Sutton said; trucks will then haul it away, probably to sell as fill material.

The state rejected a previous plan to dump the sand on mounds left by the digging of the original channel.

"DEP was so afraid we were going to cover up a little sea grass," Lindsey said.

Another possible site, near Shoal Line Boulevard , is 5.6-acres - nearly twice as large as the Manuel site, said Ron Basso, one of the opponents. Dumping the spoil there would not harm wetlands, he said, and the trucks would be confined to a major road in a commercial area.

"I am adamantly opposed to heavy dump trucks running up and down Eagle Nest Drive - this is simply unacceptable for a residential community. This is a lengthy and large project that will probably take a year to finish," Basso wrote in a letter to the county.

But the site Basso favors would require the county to lay pumping pipe in Hernando Beach 's main boating canal, disrupting traffic, Sutton said. And because it is about a half-mile farther from the dredge project than Eagle Point, laying the pipe would be more expensive, he said.

But opponents said the county has never studied the expense of other sites. Nor has it adequately considered why Eagle Point is unsuitable. Basso and a handful of his neighbors gathered on Doyle's driveway last week and pointed to the pools of standing water on the property left by the tide, which had crested three hours earlier.

In return for the right to use the property, the county will pay the Manuels a nominal fee of $10 and leave about 3 feet of fill on the land, according to a lease the county signed for the property.

Judging from the standing water, Doyle said, building a road to gain access to the property would be nearly impossible without the fill.

"Not bad for 10 bucks," he said.

Manuel said the fill is not necessary to develop the land. And he was not breaking his vow not to fill wetlands on the property, he said, because the fill is not part of his development, but part of the dredge project.

"We signed a lease for the property," Manuel said. "It's the county's decision how it's used."

Dan DeWitt can be reached at dewitt@sptimes.com or (352) 754-6116.  

Magistrate To Consider Builder's Case

By JULIA FERRANTE The Tampa Tribune

Published: May 21, 2007

A developer whose plans to build 14 houses northwest of Coyote Road and Kitten Trail were rejected last month will have his case heard by a special magistrate.

Alex Mourtakos of Coyote Crossing LLC is challenging the board's decision to place a cap of five units on his 18.81-acre property, calling it unreasonable.

Mourtakos is seeking a hearing under a state law that allows developers to seek mediation and requires governing bodies to participate in cases in which the developers think the restrictions unfairly penalize them.

The planning commission in March recommended allowing 10 units on the property, but the county commission was split a month later on how many units should be permitted. In the end, the board voted 3-2 to maintain the five-unit cap.

The developer's attorney, Shelly May Johnson, has argued her client did not know about the cap, which was imposed when a previous owner had the property rezoned in 2005.

Johnson also noted that future land-use maps show higher density in the area. In challenge, Johnson said the cap is "unreasonable and unfairly burdens the use of the property."

Commissioner Pat Mulieri, who voted against an increase in units for Coyote Crossing, said at a meeting last week that she stood by the board's decision. Mulieri didn't buy the argument that Mourtakos was unaware of the cap.

"A builder bought it. He can read," she said.

The county faced a similar challenge in 2004 from eye surgeon James Pitzer Gills Jr., who had a 700-unit limit placed on 543.57 acres he owned in central Pasco . Gills initially asked for 1,144 houses.

Gills sued the county, arguing the cap was arbitrary. His attorney, Ben Harrill, noted that the board went back and forth before settling on a number for the cap.

Commissioner Ann Hildebrand then described the process of arriving at a 700-house cap as "a Chinese auction," where the board considered several options, including 1,000 houses, then 500 houses. Mulieri suggested the 700-house cap, calling it a fair compromise.

The parties reached a settlement that permitted 850 houses on the property west of U.S. 41 and north of State Road 52. Gills agreed to abide by regulations for a master planned unit development, which requires a detailed analysis of potential effects.

In the Gills case, commissioners went against the recommendation of county growth managers, who said the plans did not fit long-range development goals in an area marked for less-dense growth.

The planning commission, an advisory board to the county commission, had failed to agree on a recommendation.

County Attorney Robert Sumner told commissioners then they would have had a stronger case against Gills had they given a concrete reason for the 700-house cap. He also cautioned commissioners about bargaining with developers without a clear-cut reason.

The board at a meeting last week agreed to hire Rick Davis, a mediator, for no more than $3,000 to consider the Coyote Crossings dispute. The cost will be split between the county and the developer.

Sumner said at the meeting he is more confident in the county's position in the Coyote Crossings case. He also does not want to send the message that the board will cave when developers challenge their decisions.

County Administrator John Gallagher agreed.

"There's going to be a tendency, if they don't get what they want, to come back this route and get more density," he said.

Reporter Julia Ferrante can be reached at (813) 948-4220 or jferrante@tampatrib.com.

Fuel-spill cleanups plague Florida

Florida is No. 1 in the nation for known fuel-spill sites, and cleanup is a slow, expensive process. Is growth putting our groundwater at risk?

Rene Stutzman
Sentinel Staff Writer

May 21, 2007

Florida has spent $2.4 billion in public funds and 20 years cleaning up leaky fuel-storage tanks, the kind that gas stations use, the kind that can ruin a water supply.

Even so, all that effort has fixed only a third of the problem. The to-do list still includes nearly 13,000 known spills, making Florida No. 1 in the nation in contaminated sites, according to a recent report by the federal Government Accountability Office.

And the No. 2 state, Illinois , is nowhere close. Its cleanup backlog is half the size of Florida 's.

"This is serious," said Pat Moricca, president of the Gasoline Retailers Association of Florida. "The public is at risk because there are carcinogens in gasoline."

In fast-growing Central Florida , where it seems nearly every tract of land is the target of developers, the spills are tying up thousands of properties.

But experts say the problem has not significantly slowed land development.

If the land is a prime location, "that property is still very valuable," said Bucky Bearden of Florida Site Selectors, a Maitland real-estate company that specializes in finding property for gas stations.

Damon Taylor, a case manager with the Orange County Environmental Protection Division, which manages state-funded cleanups, said he has never seen it stop a land sale. That's because, if the spill was before 1999 and eligible, the state will pay to clean it up.

Still, some sites have been on that state-funded waiting list for years. At other sites, the cleanup has dragged on for more than a decade.

In 1984, a family that ran a grocery store in Winter Garden thought their water smelled odd. They were right. Fuel had seeped into their private well. It came from the Ready Market gas station just up the street, at State Road 50 and Tildenville School Road .

Engineers determined that gasoline, diesel, kerosene or a combination had created a toxic zone 25 feet deep, according to Orange County environmental records.

The state agreed in 1987 to pay for the cleanup. It's still under way.

Crews are on the site, now a vacant lot with a very big hole. They are digging away 10,000 tons of soil and pumping off 34,000 gallons of groundwater in the $1.6 million cleanup attempt, according to state and county records.

State's 5th cleanup at site

This cleanup is the state's fifth at the site. Earlier, engineers tried less expensive techniques: digging a well and manually bailing out the toxins; vacuuming them away; injecting air and later oxygen into the tainted groundwater. All either failed or were too inefficient.

So, earlier this year, a crew tore down the store and began digging.

Scientists have found benzene, a toxin known to cause leukemia, at more than 3,500 times the level that's safe in drinking water, according to site records. That's the primary danger, that toxins will leach into the groundwater.

The Florida Department of Health can't say how many people have been made sick by leaky fuel tanks, but scientists agree that toxins in gasoline can cause dizziness, rashes, vomiting and, in cases of extreme exposure, kidney damage, cancer and death.

"People definitely should not be drinking water that is contaminated with gasoline," said Ed Hopkins, the Sierra Club's director of environmental quality.

And government should speed the cleanup, he said. Toxins migrate. The longer they stay in the soil and water, the more they move and the more expensive cleanups become, he said.

The spills can be found along nearly every major roadway in the state, as well as in industrial zones and spots where companies or government agencies store fuel for fleet vehicles or backup generators.

The largest portion -- 42 percent -- are at gas stations.

In the 1980s, spooked by a leak that contaminated the water supply in the tiny town of Bellevue near Ocala , Florida legislators decided the state should pay to clean up the leaks.

They had no idea they were promising to spend billions of dollars. Regulators were swamped with claims.

Since then, the state has identified 18,000 sites that qualify for state cleanup funds, according to the Florida Department of Environmental Protection.

Work has been completed at 5,300 of those sites and is under way at 4,200 more.

Charles Williams, administrator of the department's petroleum cleanup program, acknowledges there is a big backlog, but says that's largely because the state was swamped with so many claims in the beginning.

And things got worse in the mid-1990s, when the Legislature changed the rules to slow the hemorrhage of money, he said. It ordered the department to clean up only the most dangerous sites, a move that halted many cleanups, Williams said.

A few years later, the program ran out of money, once again temporarily halting cleanups in progress, Williams said.

Site cleanup can be a slow, expensive process. Those under way will take an average of five to seven years and cost about $380,000 each, according to Williams and Marshall Mott-Smith, administrator of the department's storage-tank regulation section.

Big local backlog

In Central Florida, the backlog stands at more than 1,600, according to the state agency. Work has been finished at 2,000 sites.

One was on Orlando Sentinel property near Orange Avenue and Concord Street in Orlando , a diesel spill, most likely from one of the tanks the company used to store fuel for its fleet of vehicles. The state paid about $50,000 for a cleanup that was finished in 2004, according to Orange County environmental officials.

In another case, Ray Armstrong, 48, a west Orange County cement-truck driver, woke up about 3 a.m. one morning last August and turned on the shower.

"Smelled something like gasoline, benzene," he said. The health department tested his water and confirmed it had been tainted by a petroleum product, he said.

The source hasn't been pinpointed, said Renee Parker, head of the petroleum cleanup team at Orange County 's Environmental Protection Division, but it's being handled as though it were caused by a leaky fuel tank.

Armstrong's 80-foot-deep well is ruined, he said. For a month, the family had to drink bottled water and drive to a community center to shower.

"I'm kind of mad," Armstrong said. "We had a good well."

The family has since tapped into Orange County 's public water system.

Katy Moore of the Sentinel staff contributed to this report. Rene Stutzman can be reached at 407-324-7294 or rstutzman@orlandosentinel.com.

Bird expert has scrub jay plan

Sarasota County Commission will hear from ornithologist at session on Tuesday

By KATE SPINNER

kate.spinner@heraldtribune.com

A bird expert who helped coordinate the search for the ivory-billed woodpecker -- so rare that it may be extinct -- is telling Sarasota County how to keep its scrub jays from meeting the same fate.

World-renowned ornithologist John W. Fitzpatrick will unveil his plan to county commissioners Tuesday.

The plan explains how to head off a 20 percent drop in the number of scrub jays county-wide, while also speeding up development on land that barely supports the birds.

Charlotte County plans to update a similar plan that commissioners shelved in 2004 after learning it would cost $38 million.

Matt Osterhoudt and Rachel Herman of Sarasota County 's resource protection department said they have no idea how much their plan will cost. They refused to take a guess or offer a range.

Florida scrub jays live only in this state and in 1987 earned "threatened" status under the federal Endangered Species Act. Since then, laws have forbidden people from harming scrub jays without federal permission.

That policy means thousands of people who own property used by scrub jays in Charlotte , Sarasota and Manatee counties can not build homes unless they pay a steep fine and get a federal permit.

Many people ignored the rules until about six years ago, when federal wildlife officials stepped up enforcement and told county leaders to make sure no one issued building permits that violated federal law.

Counties mapped out scrub jay habitat and started notifying property owners of their responsibility.

Property owners then found themselves waiting two to three years and still paying twice the value of their land in fines for permission to build even small homes on quarter-acre lots.

Builders complained about the wait. Environmentalists complained that revenue from the fines was not being spent on local preserves for the scrub jays.

A decades-old idea was resurrected -- the habitat conservation plan.

When a county creates a habitat conservation plan, it pinpoints where a protected animal's habitat will be lost, identifies replacement habitat, and sets aside money to buy and maintain that habitat.

As long as the county plan is approved by federal officials, property owners in scrub jay land can get building permits from the county rather than go through the federal bureaucracy. Property owners allowed to build in scrub jay habitat pay fines to help cover the cost of the new habitat.

The change saves property owners time, keeps local fines for local preserves, and sets a clear strategy for giving the animals a place to live and breed.

But the up-front cost of such plans can be tens of millions of dollars and it can take years to recoup the cost through fines.

Reed Bowman, a scrub jay expert at Archbold Biological Station in Lake Placid , has been trying for two decades to convince county leaders that scrub jay plans pay off in the long run.

"I don't think they thoroughly understand the economic picture," Bowman said.

Meanwhile, scrub jay populations have been sharply declining.

In the mid-1980s, scientists estimated that 16,000 to 23,000 scrub jays existed in the state. A decade later, the estimated population dropped by 25 to 50 percent.

Bowman said recent data indicates that the number of scrub jays has dropped another 25 percent in the past 10 years.

Scrub jays in Southwest Florida are not faring better.

Sarasota 's scrub jay population is "on the verge of collapse," Fitzpatrick said.

The county lost 23 percent of its scrub jays between 2000 and 2005, leaving the county with only 132 breeding families.

About 135 families live in Charlotte and 53 in Manatee.

Many of those birds live in suburban areas that are under enormous development pressure.

Sarasota 's highest concentration of scrub jays is in the southern part of the county, where most of the county's growth is expected in the next decade.

To offset the loss of an anticipated 20 to 30 scrub jays in the Venice area, the plan suggests restoring habitat at Lemon Bay Preserve and on county property near the Venice Airport .

Ideally, the plan would restore habitat where displaced birds could easily relocate and direct development away from scrub jay strongholds.

But for the plans to work, a lot of that restoration and planning must be accomplished before people are allowed to build in less-desirable habitats.

Otherwise, scrub jay numbers would plummet, Fitzpatrick warns in his report.

The success of Sarasota County 's plan also depends on how well Charlotte and Manatee counties protect their own birds.

Fitzpatrick said Sarasota should encourage its neighbors to join in a regional approach to conserving habitat.

Scrub jays live only in sandy scrubs, which are dominated by squat scrub oaks and an occasional pine tree. The same habitat suits several other threatened and endangered species, including gopher tortoises and indigo snakes.

Fitzpatrick said his birding friends nationwide know Sarasota 's scrubs are great places to spot scrub jays. That's something for the county to take pride in, he said.

Jon Thaxton, a Sarasota commissioner, remembers encouraging the county to protect scrub jays through habitat conservation two decades ago.

"One thing I can say for sure is that it would have been a lot easier 22 years ago," Thaxton said.

Time is running out.

"We're not looking at a deep rescue operation yet, but if you waited another five years, you may be getting on the brink of where it would be unrecoverable," Fitzpatrick said.

Bunnell project stirs up criticism

By LAUREN SONIS
Staff Writer

BUNNELL -- Residents in Palm Coast 's E section said they're sick and tired of the dust, dirt and vibrations coming from a Bunnell development that's under construction next to them.

One of the property owners agreed to meet with them Monday morning, residents said.

They complained about cracks in their walls from vibrations, speeding trucks and dirt creeping over their back patios, into their pools and into their homes. Resident Ken Mascone said he's not anti-development, but he thinks something should be done.

Bunnell City Commissioner Jenny Crain-Brady said the issue is nothing new. Usually when there is construction, these types of things happen, she said.

Vince Viscomi, president of Holly Hill-based Viscomi and Associates, said at a recent city meeting he would meet with neighbors.

Viscomi is one of the property owners of the Bunnell Oak Branch planned unit development, which will include an 18-hole golf course. In an interview last month, Viscomi said the property could include up to 749 units. But how many units are actually built would depend on the market, he said. He did not return a phone call this week seeking comment for this story.

The development sits directly behind Edith Pope Drive in Palm Coast . Residents there say they've peeked to see a pond being built and grass seeded as tractors and a dirt compactor roll over the black ground.

Several Palm Coast residents said they've paid to power wash their outdoor screens. Resident Melinda Lindsey keeps a plastic shopping bag of dirty rags in her house to show how much black dust she's wiped up from inside her home.

And the Darlings, who live two houses down from the Lindseys on Edith Pope Drive, said they're too embarrassed to have guests over for barbecues, as they point to grit in their pool and the gray dust on their white, inflatable swans.

"I think what we're all concerned about is that nobody cared," Jeanne Darling said. "You would have thought they would have taken our homes into consideration."

She pulled out a photo showing dust blowing above a tree line that sits between the development and a dirt lane by the Palm Coast homes.

"We don't want to cause problems," Darling said. "We just want people to care and take care of things."

Her husband Keith, who plans to attend Monday's meeting, said he's also concerned about how close the new homes are going to sit by his property line.

"Are they going to put in a privacy fence, an 8-foot-high privacy fence?" he asked.

Palm Coast City Clerk Ronya Johnson said she and Mick Cuthbertson, the city's community development director, rode to Edith Pope Drive and visited some of the houses of Palm Coast residents who had called the city. Johnson said, while she's sure that the dust is there, she didn't think the conditions were as bad as some residents made them out to be at a recent city meeting -- unless things have changed since her visit.

Johnson said she and Cuthbertson also met with the contractor out at the site. The contractor took them for a ride to show the tree line buffer and how developers are trying to lessen the impact on the homes.

Johnson said workers were trying to water the dirt road, so when trucks drove by, there would be less dust in the air. But that's a tough task to keep up with when there is a drought in Flagler County , she said.

She said she lives in the same neighborhood and truly understands what neighbors are talking about. But she can't stop property owners from developing their land, she said.

"It's hard," she said. "Once it's done, I would think they would be very happy, because it's going to be a very beautiful development."

Viscomi is also a property owner for the Deer Run development, adjacent to Oak Branch.

City Commissioners Tuesday approved 5-0 preliminary plans for the 88-acre development on the east side of the city, north of State Road 100, which would create five lots along two roads. The approval is contingent upon the property owners meeting zoning requirements or changing the existing plans so all the lots meet dimension criteria.

Funding for roadways and other infrastructure in Oak Branch and Deer Run could come from another source: buyers of tax-free bonds.

The city voted 5-0 to create a Community Development District that would include 690 acres in the developments and would allow property owners to sell the bonds to pay for infrastructure like roads and water, sewer and reuse lines.

Petitioners for the district wrote that the district would shift the burden to pay for infrastructure off Bunnell taxpayers.

lauren.sonis@news-jrnl.com  

Portrait Of A Citrus Grower  

By Gary Pinnell of Highlands Today

Published: May 21, 2007

WAUCHULA — How to describe Ben Albritton Jr.? He's one of those "God first, family second" guys, born to a fifth-generation Hardee County family. He's also a genuine believer in service, and he's studied the impact of spiritual leadership. He'd love to start a local civic leadership chapter, and he promotes the Florida Citrus Commission, which he serves as the district 2 commissioner.

"I get the greatest pleasure out of serving," Albritton said. "I love to do it. That's how I get more out of life."

Albritton is even thinking about running for the District 66 state representative seat in 2010, if his friend Baxter Troutman is limited after four terms in office.

"I'm about people," said Albritton. "I would be as selfless a representative as possible."

If he wasn't a citrus grower with trees in three counties, and an insurance agent with his brother, what would he be?

"Maybe sales. I can tell you, I'd never make it in the widget business," Albritton said. "I've got to be interacting with people. And it would have to be something where I could make a difference. Maybe the ministry."

Or maybe a Circle K clerk. "One of the great tragedies of Hurricane Charlie is that it took out a Circle K near my home. It reopened, but not as a Circle K, and it doesn't have Circle K coffee." So he drives an extra few miles to work every day, to the convenience store of his choice, to get a proper cup of java and start the day.

Albritton drew attention to his appearance. He's 38, but with graying hair, mustache and goatee, he thinks he looks older. "I don't care. Some people color their hair. I haven't got a bit of vanity," he laughed.

When Vern Buchanan was in Wauchula on March 24, it was Albritton who was chosen to show around the new congressman. Albritton explained why California citrus looks prettier (less wind to scrape the leaves across the fruit, leaving that brown scarring), but why Sunshine State oranges taste better (more juice and more sugar).

How's the Florida citrus industry these days?

"It's going to be strong for some time to come," said Albritton.

This season, 2006-07, produced one of the smallest crop supplies on record, but Albritton said demand kept profits near record highs. And next year looks to be even better.

The citrus industry has been plagued since the beginning with labor shortages, the freezes of the 1980s, and the hurricanes of the 1990s and 2000s, and a Pandora's box of diseases – the latest are canker and greening.

"Smart people are working on those problems," Albritton assured, "and I'm an optimist."

The number of growers are down, the Florida acres of citrus planted has dropped from 857,000 to 621,000, and now citrus juice plants are closing. The entire industry is shrinking.

New technology will help, Albritton thinks. There's a chemical, now in the final stages of development, with can be sprayed on trees at harvest time. It causes the stem to let go of the fruit. When shaken, the tree will drop fruit into a mechanical harvester, and that will save labor.

If his children, Rebecca, 9, Joshua, 6, and Ryan, 2, choose to follow him into the citrus business, he thinks it will make a good living for them. It has been for his ancestors.

The Albritton family started in Bowling Green , which Ben points out was the first home of the Strawberry Festival, before it moved to Plant City . Today, the family also owns groves in DeSoto and Manatee counties, and an insurance business. His secret to success: "Always make sure people are the most important thing," Albritton said.

Albritton has a degree in citrus and business from Florida Southern College in Lakeland . His younger brother, Joe, 34, has an MBA from Duke, and that galled Ben a bit.

"I hate it that he one-upped me," Ben admitted. So he thought about getting a master's too, and even got accepted to Vanderbuilt University in Nashville, but that was three years ago, when the news that Ryan was coming surprised Ben and Missy. A new child has a way of rearranging a family's priorities, Albritton said.

One of the reasons he agreed to an interview was to tell his fellow growers about the Florida Citrus Commission.

"I had no idea what I was getting involved in," Albritton said, the pleasure evident in his smile. The one thing he wants growers to know: if they call Lakeland , the FCC staff will know the answer to their questions, or find out and call back. Growers can call Albritton at 773-6280, if they need his help.

But family is more important to him than business. "I prioritize my life. It's simply the only way to keep my head above water. Guard and protect your family. I'm married to the most amazing woman I ever met, Missy. God, family, and others," said Albritton, a Sunday school teacher. "If any of those things get out of order in my life, I know it very quickly."

Wildlife officials come to the aid of Key bunnies

The Associated Press

BIG PINE KEY - More bunnies. That's the goal of a program beginning next week to protect a rare Florida Keys rabbit named for Playboy magazine founder Hugh Hefner.

Wildlife officials will begin to trap feral and stray cats in an area where the rabbits make their home. The idea is that by keeping a predator away, the population of Lower Keys marsh rabbits will grow.

Scientists are concerned because the population of rabbits on Big Pine Key has dwindled by about 50 percent in the past two years and is in danger of being wiped out. The same strategy to increase population has been used with success at the Naval Air Station at Boca Chica, where another group of the animals live.

The Latin name for the rabbit is Sylvilagus palustris hefneri. That's a reference to Hefner, who financed research that identified the species in 1980. The medium-sized, dark brown cottontail with a grayish-white belly was put on the federal endangered species list in 1990 when the population in the Florida Keys was estimated at 200.

Officials will begin trapping cats today by setting 30 to 40 traps near the rabbit habitat at the National Key Deer Refuge on Big Pine Key.

Not everyone is happy about the program. Some activists dressed up in cat suits and waved signs in protest near the refuge when the program was announced a month ago.

Anne Morkill, manager of the deer refuge, said all cats will be "humanely trapped alive'' and then transported to animal shelters in the area.

Efforts to clean up Rainbow River pay

More than 100 show up to help  

BY STEPHANIE MORRIS

STAR-BANNER 

DUNNELLON - Friends of the Rainbow River in Dunnellon gather each year to scour its waters for trash and debris, and each year it seems they come back with a lighter load, which simply means one thing: The efforts to keep the Rainbow River beautiful are actually working.  

"When we started doing this, we would have lots of trash," said Jack Dennis, who has lived on the river since the 60s. "But each year, we get less and less.  

On Saturday, the Rainbow River Conservation held its annual river cleanup. More than a hundred people came with their pontoons, kayaks and canoes ready to lend a hand in the beautification of the 5.7-mile spring-fed river that begins at the Rainbow Springs State Park and flows into the Withlacoochee River .  

"We used to find really big nasty stuff, but we don't get much of that anymore," said Mary Ann Hilton, a longtime member of RRC.  

The group has held the annual clean up for about 28 years and even though there's less trash, there's still no shortage of unusual filth to emerge from the waters.  

Sue Tobin of Williston participated for the first time this year. She was surprised to find an unused condom in its original sealed package.  

"Well, the river practices safe sex," she quipped to her friends.  

Each year, the group hands out awards for the most unusual items found in the river. The judges were a little embarrassed to give the award to Tobin, so instead, the prize went to 17-year-old Andy Oram of Dunnellon. He found what looked to be an unused flood light.  

Oram sifted through a bag of other items that included a milk bottle, golf balls and beer cans.  

Participants in Saturday's clean up represent many different groups from around Marion County , including kayaking clubs, dive clubs and the Sheriff's Office.  

More than 10 students from Dunellon High School 's Ecology Club came to show their support.  

Sarah Zunich, an Ecology Club member, has participated in the cleanup for the last three years.  

"We just enjoy doing it," she said. "We didn't find much garbage so that's a good thing."  

Each year, the Marion County Sheriff's Department Underwater Recovery Team helps with the cleanup. Fred Vyse, the captain in charge, led a team of eight volunteer divers this year.  

He said his men execute search patterns when looking for trash underwater, much like they would if they were looking for a body or some kind of evidence at a crime scene.  

"We mostly feel for the trash," he said. "We usually work in dark water. This water is much clearer than what we usually see."  

Burt Eno is the president of the conservation group.  

"I'm just one of those people who believes that we're the keepers and protectors of the things that nature has given to us," he said. "And we're too rapidly destroying it."  

The nonprofit organization was founded in 1962. Its members are made up of river and non-river residents. The organization's stated mission is to preserve the quality of the river, which produces between 400 and 600 million gallons of water every day.  

Stephanie Morris may be reached at stephanie.morris@starbanner  

.com or at 867-4119.  

Manager's Tireless Effort Keeps Lines Tight at Tenoroc  

By Del Milligan

The Ledger 

LAKELAND  

Danon Moxley likes to refer to Tenoroc Fish Management Area as the "Central Park of Central Florida."  

There are no Strawberry Fields, like the Manhattan memorial for John Lennon. But Tenoroc spreads over more than 7,000 acres with deep, shimmering ponds managed for trophy bass and diverse uplands roamed by bobcats and wild hogs.  

Moxley, 52, has been the manager of Tenoroc since 1992, when the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission began operating the vast preserve on Lakeland 's northeastern outskirts.

From its modest start with five fishing lakes to 24 ponds today, and from 6,030 acres in 1992 to the current 7,300 acres, Moxley has been the architect of Tenoroc's expansion.  

"I think he's taken it from a diamond in the rough to a showcase piece for the fish and game commission," said Phil Chapman of Lakeland , a retired FWC biologist.  

By all accounts, Tenoroc would not be a model for fish conservation and land restoration if not for the determination and work ethic of Moxley, who lives in Lakeland .  

"I'm what I consider a doer. I have to get things done," Moxley said. "What I do I do for the people of this state, for the recreational fishermen and my God."  

Chapman said Moxley is "absolutely relentless."  

"He's probably the most tireless, persistent person I've ever worked with," Chapman said. "Nothing tires him out. He takes on the toughest things to do, and he always seems to find a way to make them work."  

A University of Central Florida graduate, Moxley has devoted his life's work to maximizing the preserve's natural resources on a shoestring budget of $82,000.  

"He has got to be one of the most dedicated guys I've ever worked with as far as his concern for the resource and the users. He is the heart and soul of Tenoroc," said Tom Champeau, Moxley's supervisor at the Lakeland office of the FWC.  

A self-described "Cape brat" whose late father worked at the Kennedy Space Center in Titusville , Moxley grew up fishing and shrimping "in the boonies" at Haulover Canal .  

An avid light-tackle flats angler for redfish and snook, and a woodsman who enjoys hunting deer and ducks, Moxley has taken his lifelong appreciation for fish and wildlife and endeavored to make Tenoroc a place where others can enjoy the outdoors experience.  

"He's always trying to improve Tenoroc. He does a lot with nothing," said Wes Fish of Lakeland , who has worked at Tenoroc since the 1980s.  

A man of modest means - he drives a 1994 Ford F-150 four-wheel-drive pickup - Moxley is part fishery biologist, part supervisor and part horse-trader, a soft-spoken fellow with a great power of persuasion.  

"A lot of people think he's hard-headed and stubborn, but he fights for what he thinks is right," Fish said.  

SOMETHING FROM NOTHING  

Through partnerships and federal grants, Moxley and his capable staff of five biologists and technicians have built roads and state-of-the-art boat ramps, cleared miles of trails and maintained superb fishing in the old phosphate pits.  

"We've been very creative in how we get some things accomplished," Moxley said. "For example, the Pasture Lakes facility at Bridgewater is a $454,000 facility that the state didn't have to spend a dime on, other than our time."  

Bridgewater 's lakes and facilities opened in June of 2006 and were paid for by Gulfstream Pipeline, which built a natural gas line to the MacIntosh Power Plant along the boundaries of Tenoroc.  

Moxley brokered the deal with Gulfstream, trading cash for fishing lakes and facilities for the physically challenged. It was just the latest of many battles he has fought to optimize Tenoroc's resources.  

Former Gov. Jeb Bush sought to eliminate Tenoroc jobs from the state budget for three consecutive years, from 2003-2005, even though Tenoroc is funded 25 percent by state fishing license fees and 75 percent with matching Sportfish Restoration Project grants.  

But with the support of Sen. Paula Dockery, R-Lakeland, and Rep. John Stargel, R-Lakeland, Tenoroc was saved.  

"Luckily we've had some very intelligent and proactive politicians who recognized the value of Tenoroc," Moxley said. "John Stargel (now a circuit judge in Polk County ) was a friend of Tenoroc who recognized that closing this place down was not saving the state a dime."  

In addition to fishing, Tenoroc offers 16 miles of hiking trails and 15 miles of horseback trails. It is a wildlife corridor to the Green Swamp and a gateway for the Great Florida Birding Trail. And its alligator population averages a foot longer than anywhere else in Florida .  

"What I envision as far as our trail system is eventually there will be a paved path from the city of Lakeland's Lake-to-Lake Trail that would connect with the Fort Fraser Trail that will come through the north part of Tenoroc all the way over to the Van Fleet Trail (near Auburndale)," said Moxley, who was recently honored as a Friend of the Florida Trail. "And then I envision another path, a more primitive path, a walking path, that would proceed from Tenoroc down through Saddle Creek Park and farther south, maybe to the Circle B (Bar Reserve) and around Lake Hancock 's eastern side to the (South Florida Water Management District) property."  

But Tenoroc's reputation centers on high-quality, catch-and-release bass fishing with some lakes producing catch rates almost 10 times the state average when they first opened.  

"We open up a lake and fishing's real good for three or four months and then it comes down and it plateaus out," Moxley said. "The fish are still there, they're just smarter. But we still have some great fishing opportunities."  

Fishing has been phenomenal this spring on Fish Hook Lake at the new Bridgewater Tract, with anglers averaging three bass per hour with an above-average shot at a 10-pounder. The FWC's goal on public lakes is a catch rate of .35 bass per hour.  

"I'll stack up Tenoroc against any place in the state," Moxley said. "Maybe that's just me, because I'm proud of it."  

In addition to bass, Tenoroc's old phosphate pits produce excellent catches of bluegill, shellcracker, speckled perch and catfish.  

PITS TO PONDS  

Tenoroc was mined for phosphate until the mid-1970s by Borden Inc., which donated the land to the state in 1982.  

From 1982-1992 when the Department of Natural Resources operated Tenoroc, the lakes served as a research laboratory where Chapman pioneered many of Florida 's current fishing regulations.  

Through strict management by catch-and-release, angler quotas and closures Tuesday through Thursday every week, Moxley said bass fishing has remained as reliable as it was in 1992.  

"It's probably as good, if not better," Moxley said.  

Derby Lake , restricted to youth 15 or under and families, is one of Tenoroc's showpieces, a stocked pond that hosts fishing derbies for kids. It has an extensive boardwalk for physically challenged anglers and sheltered picnic pavilions for outings.  

"One of the things we need to push is that families need to be out there instead of sitting behind a computer or something, to have places for them to go," said Moxley, a devoted father.  

He and his wife, Debbie, have two teenage daughters - Morgan and Mallory.  

Moxley's tenure as a fishery biologist with the FWC started almost 30 years ago, when he was in his early 20s. Before becoming manager at Tenoroc, he worked in lake restoration, and now his career has come full circle.  

"The main reason I came out here was to be closer to my family and not have to travel as much, at least statewide," Moxley said. "But I also came out here because I wanted to get back more into fishing, and what I ended up with was a major restoration project, one that encompasses not just the lakes but the land form. It's been quite a challenge, and we've got a long ways to go. But we're making a lot of progress."  

Looking forward, Moxley is recreating wetlands to store water that will help reestablish the flow of the Peace River , as the Tenoroc property did before the land was mined. And he hopes to open three more lakes for fishing.  

With the building of Tenoroc High School west of Auburndale and the University of South Florida Lakeland campus at I-4 and the Polk Parkway , the fish management area may seem more and more like Moxley's "Central Park of Central Florida."  

"If you look at what Lakeland is going to look like in 5 or 10 years, Tenoroc is going to be the only green space you're going to have in the Lakeland metropolitan area," Champeau said.  

Del Milligan can be reached at del.milligan@theledger.com or 863-802-7555.

Plunging into mysteries of Deep Hole

A drift down the depleted Myakka River leads a visitor to a fabled alligator hangout

BY BILLY COX

MYAKKA RIVER STATE PARK -- With passengers working in tandem, a series of coordinated pelvic thrusts performed from seated positions can be an effective way to goose a canoe across hull-scraping tilapia nests.

But at the height of drought season, this visually grotesque display of teamwork can only propel the vessel so far at the south end of Lower Myakka Lake .

The water level upriver, according to the U.S. Geological Survey gauge, measures 1.2 feet deep, or more than a foot and a half below the monthly average.

Inevitably, the fish nests -- a bumpy infestation of doughnut-shaped ridges humping across the lake floor -- snag the canoe to a dead stop.

Fortunately, the destination, Deep Hole, is just a short slosh ahead. Word is that Deep Hole is to alligators what lightbulbs are to insects. Assistant Park Manager Diane Dutcher says the numbers fluctuate wildly but that as many as 120 of the reptilian carnivores have been counted in one sitting.

The relationship between Deep Hole and the alligators is a mystery. Deep Hole is a mystery.

"It's a sinkhole, but nobody knows how deep it is," Dutcher says. "We say it's 142 feet, but that's an approximation. It's not a place I want to dive."

And it's not a place you'll stumble across. Deep Hole lies within park boundaries, but it's also situated on a 7,500-acre tract designated as a wilderness preserve. Visiting Deep Hole requires permits for boaters and hikers; access is restricted to 30 humans a day.

Even so, a mutilation scene at the end leaves no doubt about who inhabits the top of the food chain.

Wending through shallows

The dry winds responsible for lofting stinking smoke from as far away as Georgia shifted overnight and are coming in from the cleansing southwest today. The mottled surface of the moon etched into the arid blue sky is interrupted only by transient scuds of cumulus when the canoe and the kayak hit the water on the front end of the journey.

It starts along the river banks at South Pavilion, near the park entrance. The guide is a Florida Parks Service district biologist named Stacia Hetrick, who recently earned her master's degree from the University of Florida .

Hetrick has a thing for birds. Even before shoving off, she recognizes the language of a male Carolina wren, a northern parula and a cardinal. When the leisurely, 6-mile round-trip ends seven hours later, she will have identified 39 species.

But mostly, she works a 34-mile stretch of the Myakka for residential permitting along the waterfront. The demands are endless.

Navigating the low water today means threading the needle between fallen tree limbs and foot-sucking mud bars, many of them crisscrossed by the tracks of deer, wading birds and hogs.

Where the river widens and the channels deepen, alligators stare down visitors before going under, leaving nary a ripple.

"Those little guys there," says Hetrick during a pause to inspect several yearling gators clustered atop the riverbanks, "you'll never see any that size at Deep Hole."

That's because they'd be cannibalized by the indiscriminate impulses of relatives whose 8-gram brains -- which could fit inside a tablespoon without slopping over the edges -- can command up to 600 pounds of primordial sinew and bulk capable of regenerating 20,000 teeth over the course of a 60-year lifetime. Out here, on the frontier of the food chain, 1,350-gram human brains (roughly the weight of a 10-inch, deep-dish key lime pie) seem as relevant as feathers on a turtle.

Scavengers and predators

The skies are wheeling with opportunists -- black vultures, turkey buzzards, swallow-tailed kites, ospreys and eagles. Hetrick says the entrance to Deep Hole hosts one of the largest black vulture populations anywhere.

"Wait till you see them -- they're just so cool," Hetrick says. "They've got so much personality; they're like dogs. They even make doglike noises. They go 'Woof! Woof!'"

Two hours of paddling, and the river's serpentine curves unclench into a straightaway. Beneath a pitiless sun, Lower Myakka Lake and its submarine plains of tilapia sand traps unfold. On the far side, to the south, the sentinel vultures await.

"Look at how brown the cabbage palms are," Hetrick says as she tows the canoe to the shore. The trees are exhausted from heavy roosting and guano; scores of dark carrion birds languish above and below, as if waiting for something easy. Even more hang back in the distant oak hammock.

From the soggy flats in the foreground, agitated black-necked stilts are flagging out amid a hue and cry, flopping around, feigning injury, attempting to lure intruders back into the lake. Nests and eggs, Hetrick figures.

This is the gateway to Deep Hole, separated from the lake by a barren strip of clay. When the rains come, there will be no distinctions at all. Along the grassy perimeter lie the craters of parched tilapia nests. Down yonder, to the south, the floodplain marshes are aflame in a dazzling yellow sprawl of tickweed flowers.

At first glance, Deep Hole is nondescript, no bigger than a football field. But even from a distance, you can see what you came for, knobby eyes and snouts and dermal armor cutting horizontal lines in the wind-furrowed waters. There are curious and sporadic eruptions of spray, which Hetrick ascribes to fish.

You begin to count -- seven, eight, nine, holy smokes -- 22, 23, 24 -- and by the time you're done, the consensus is 38. Or maybe 39. At least 38 alligators compressed into Deep Hole today.

And there's something else -- a small bone yard. Articulated vertebrae, hip joints still intact, an interlocking train of curving tail bones. The vultures are brooding over those, too, but the meat is long gone.

"We've had poaching before, but not on such a level as this. It was just so blatant," explains Game & Freshwater Fish Commission Officer Joanne Adams from her office in Fort Myers .

"They went in with firearms about three weeks ago. But they weren't very efficient. It was a rush job; the gators weren't even skinned. One of them was 11 feet long. We kept waiting for (the poachers) to come back, but they never did."

When the shooting stopped in the Park, 11 alligators lay slaughtered.

The survivors in the water today keep wary eyes on the visitors. They swim to the opposite side of wherever the intruders walk. An anhinga plops onto the surface, heedless, or feeling lucky, or perhaps a candidate for natural selection.

A pause for lunch and water beneath the live oak shade hissing in the breeze; one of the vultures on the ground chases another, and says, "Woof, woof." Another anhinga settles into Deep Hole and zips headfirst into the depths of the alligator pit.

The dispiriting tilapia nests await the canoe trip back. Tomorrow, the wind will bend, and the smoke will return. In an ideal world, you would stay here until the stars come out.  

Temples of the sunshine state

These hotels from the roaring '20s continue to reign as Florida 's grande dames of glamour.

Lisa Roberts
Sentinel Staff Writer

May 20, 2007

Just as the state's popularity soared at the beginning of the new millennium, it did in the 1920s. It was a definitive time for a place known for its unruly landscape and its swarms of mosquitoes.

" Florida became Florida in the 1920s," says Gary Mormino, a history professor at University of South Florida in Tampa . "Even though Florida had all the elements of a dream state in previous centuries, Americans really did discover it in the '20s. Through a media frenzy and press-relations orgy, Florida defined itself by all the elements we now associate with it."

The state became the playground for the powerful and wealthy, and the beach suddenly was the place to be.

Developers, speculators and architects arrived before them, of course. Among the visions they erected along the state's coastline were palatial hotels on the southwest and southeast coasts.

"Probably nothing defined the era like the grand hotels," Mormino says.

They vied for attention with Mediterranean revival charm reminiscent of Europe 's finest hotels. Suddenly, with the building of roads, and the increasing popularity of the automobile, the romance and grandeur of Europe was accessible to those for whom it had been out of reach.

"To a business man in Hyde Park, Chicago , or Oak Park , you didn't have to go to the Riviera ," Mormino says. "You could go to Miami Beach and have all the same elements."

Bathing beauties in risque one-piece suits provided another lure that the growing tourist industry was only too happy to cast. Bathing-suit pageants popped up in Miami Beach , and the St. Petersburg mayor helped publicize the city's waterfront by having women ticketed for being too sensuous in their suits, Mormino says.

The Great Depression, however, shuttered most of Florida 's grand hotels by the 1930s. They were not revived until World War II in the '40s. Procured for the use of U.S. armed forces, they opened the doors as hospitals and convalescent homes, their marble floors and bas-relief embellishments covered by linoleum and unattractive paint.

After the war ended, some properties were shuttered again for decades. The past 20 or 30 years have been kind to others, which have been restored to their glory days, with a fresh dash of opulence thrown in. Let's explore five of the grandest: Boca Raton Resort & Club, The Breakers Resort in Palm Beach , The Biltmore in Coral Gables , the Don CeSar Beach Resort in St. Pete Beach, and the Renaissance Vinoy Resort and Golf Club in St. Petersburg .

Boca Raton Resort & Club

Since opening in 1926, this 356-acre resort has garnered worldwide attention. Originally featuring 100 rooms, it cost $1.25 million to build the hotel, making it the most expensive establishment of its day. Today, guests are treated to an opulence that always has been a resort tradition. A palm-lined avenue ushers visitors to the lobby, which sits amid courtyards that bring to mind Spain 's plush villas. That's how its architect and founder, Addison Mizner, envisioned his "pink palace" -- a slice of Mediterranean heaven in Florida .

Now, the resort features more than 1,000 rooms in five distinct buildings. The Cloister Inn -- the original hotel -- offers 359 rooms, graceful arches and intricate mosaics; the eight-story Yacht Club has 112 rooms with views of the Intracoastal Waterway and Atlantic Ocean . Rounding out the choices are a contemporary 27-story Tower; the Boca Bungalows, with their kitchens and golf-course views; and the Boca Beach Club, just steps from the resort's half-mile beach. Rates start at $249.

Among the resort's restaurants are Tuscan-style Lucca in the Cloister, and Nick's Fishmarket in Boca Beach Club. Last year's opening of the Old Homestead Steak House in the Golf Clubhouse brought the first branch of this storied New York restaurant to Florida .

For the ultimate in relaxation, there is Spa Palazzo, which offers signature treatments such as a sugar cane scrub ($125) and a Sevruga caviar facial ($205). Other resort amenities include two golf courses, 30 tennis courts, three fitness centers, six pools, a marina, upscale boutiques and tiki huts on its private beach. A shuttle takes guests to nearby Mizner Park , home of the Boca Raton Museum of Art, as well as trendy restaurants, exclusive shops and a movie theater.

The Boca Raton Resort & Club is at 501 E. Camino Real in Boca Raton . Details: 1-888-495-2622 or 561-395-3000; bocaresort .com.

The Breakers Resort

The Breakers originated as the Palm Beach Inn, built by oil and railroad magnate Henry Flagler in 1896. After the all-wood hotel was destroyed by fire in 1903 and again in 1925, it reopened in 1926 as The Breakers, a nickname it had formerly earned when guests asked for rooms "by the breakers."

This 140-acre oceanfront Palm Beach resort has a distinct Italian accent. Its graceful exterior, marked by stately twin towers, was inspired by the Villa Medici in Rome . Its Florentine Fountain is reminiscent of Florence 's Boboli Gardens , and its lobby, decorated with ornate painted ceilings, echoes the Great Hall of the Palazzo Carega in Genoa .

Its 560 rooms vary from standard hotel-size rooms to plush suites. The Breakers' sun-drenched accommodations are painted in tropical colors and trimmed with lavish marble bathrooms, fine linen and private-brand toiletries. Rates start at $375.

The Breakers' recently renovated beachfront has three pools, a whirlpool spa and cabanas dotting its half-mile private beach. For even more relaxation, there is a 20,000-square-foot spa, with 17 treatment rooms. Among its signature treatments is the Marine Algae Body Wrap ($190), which blends seaweed with rosemary, cypress and juniper oils.

Golfers can reserve tee times on two championship courses, including the Ocean Course, a par-70 course redesigned in 2000 by Brian Silva. Or, tune up your game with a lesson at the resort's golf academy. For tennis enthusiasts, there are 10 Har-Tru courts.

Among the resort's nine eateries and lounges is the casual Ocean Grill, which serves lunch in a "seaside cottage" setting. Popular L'Escalier, which has earned AAA's five-diamond award and Wine Spectator's Grand Award, serves French fare.

The Breakers is at 1 South County Road , Palm Beach . Details: 1-888-273-2537; the breakers.com.

The Biltmore

The Biltmore has been an elegant fixture in tony Coral Gables since 1926, drawing well-heeled guests with its Mediterranean good looks, exquisite decor and groomed grounds.

Even in challenging times, the Biltmore drew patrons as other hotels struggled. When the '20s boom dimmed, thousands continued to flock to the hotel for weekend aquatic shows, staged in a behemoth swimming pool that still is one of the largest in the world. The show featured a diver plunging from an 85-foot platform, synchronized swimmers and bathing beauties.

When the '40s brought World War II, the Biltmore served as the Army Air Force Regional Hospital , then was a Veterans Administration hospital until 1968. The hotel was handed over to the city of Coral Gables in 1973.

It sat empty for a decade before a $55 million renovation restored its grand looks. When it reopened in 1987, a black-tie party with 600 guests brought back memories of its early razzle-dazzle days.

Once again, celebrities flock to the place, which has counted among its guests Bill Cosby, Placido Domingo, Gloria Vanderbilt, Gloria Estefan, Woody Harrelson and LL Cool J.

Each of its 276 rooms, including 133 suites, feature European feather bedding and Egyptian cotton duvet covers. The hotel's two-story Everglades Suite was a favorite of gangster Al Capone. Along with hand-painted ceilings and a baby grand piano, it has a dining table for six and a master suite with a roman tub. Rates start at $344 through May, then fall to $279.

The Biltmore's signature restaurant, Palme d'Or, seats up to 60, assuring intimate dining. With French chef Philippe Ruiz supervising the kitchen and menu, diners choose from 20 "tasting" plates, each with its own selection of fine wines. The hotel's largest eatery, 1200 Courtyard Grill, is more casual and serves grilled meat, fish and pasta. Cascade, an al fresco restaurant, specializes in healthful meals and has daily spa-cuisine specials.

The hotel also features an 18-hole golf course, pool, 10 tennis courts, a fitness center and a "Zen-inspired" spa that offers such treatments as a caviar facial ($190) and a Chardonnay massage (50 minutes, $130).

The Biltmore is at 1200 Anastasia Ave. , Coral Gables . Details: 1-800-915-1926; biltmore hotel.com.

Don CeSar Beach Resort

When it opened in 1928, "The Don" was the place to be seen on Florida 's west coast. This St. Pete Beach beauty was a whirl of activity, a pink sand castle at the edge of the lapping, warm Gulf of Mexico , and she was primed for a party. F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of The Great Gatsby, played here, as did baseball's Lou Gehrig and Al Capone.

The good times abruptly ended in 1942, and the hotel was sold to the Army to be used for a convalescent center for World War II soldiers and Veterans Administration offices. By 1969, the place was shuttered, and like a forlorn princess, it sat by the shoreline, an outcast from a bygone age.

In 1973, after being bought and extensively refurbished by preservationists, the hotel reopened. Now she's back at the top of her game, a Mediterranean beauty with Moorish details, including the distinctive twin towers that crown it.

Today, this AAA four-diamond beach resort, now a Loews Hotel, has 277 seaside rooms, including 43 suites, each of which received an extensive makeover in 2000. Summer rates start at $179. Public rooms are opulently set with French candelabras, splashing fountains and chandeliers that sparkle with Italian crystals.

Guests can sample the services at the hotel's spa, which offers body wraps ($120), exfoliations ($120) and an array of massages (from $80), including scalp, reflexology and aromatherapy. The Don also has a fitness center, beach club and retail shops that offer such things as clothing, gifts and jewelry.

For dining, there is the Maritana Grille, a four-diamond restaurant that serves "Floribbean" cuisine and 200 types of wine; the casual, beachfront Sea Porch Cafe; and the Beachcomber Bar and Grill, set near the hotel's sugar-sand beach and its two pools.

Recreational opportunities include a children's program, aqua aerobics, beach yoga, sailing and wave-runner clinics, and hotel history and ghost tours. A variety of water toys can be rented, and golf and tennis are available nearby.

Details: 1-800-282-1116 or 727-360-1881; doncesar.com.

Renaissance Vinoy Resort and Golf Club

This St. Petersburg hotel, built by Aymer Vinoy Laughner, became known at the time of its 1925 opening as a playground of the rich and famous. At the height of its popularity, it welcomed celebrities such as Jimmy Stewart, Babe Ruth and presidents Herbert Hoover and Calvin Coolidge.

After serving as a training school for the Army in the 1940s, the Vinoy was purchased by Charles Alberding. It reopened to guests in 1945, until closing again in 1974. It opened once more in 1992, sporting renovations and a new guestroom tower. The hotel was purchased by its present owners, Renaissance Hotel Group, in 1996.

Guests choose from 361 rooms and 15 suites, some of which have bay views and patio whirlpool spas. Rates start at $229 through May, then fall to $189. Among this 114-acre resort's amenities are an 18-hole golf course, 12 tennis courts, a heated pool, a fitness center, a day spa and salon, and a private marina. Its downtown location makes for handy access to a number of cultural sights and activities, including the Florida Holocaust Museum and Florida International Museum , as well as the Mahaffey Theater for the Performing Arts and BayWalk Entertainment Complex.

For dining, there is the recently renovated Marchand's Bar and Grill, which features Mediterranean cuisine and serves breakfast, lunch and dinner. The casual Alfresco, which serves American cuisine, has indoor and outdoor seating.

History buffs will enjoy a stroll through the hotel's new History Gallery, or they may join a guided tour offered Wednesdays through Saturdays at 10:30 a.m. Cost is $5 for the tour, or $22.95 for the tour and lunch.

The resort is at 501 5th Ave. NE. Details: 1-888-303-4430; 727-894-1000; vinoyrenaissanceresort.com.

Lisa Roberts is a Sentinel staffer. She can be reached at 407-420-5598 or lroberts@orlandosentinel.com.
The first photo ran on the cover.