Lovers Key

By Ryan Nance
Published: November 13, 2007
Last Updated On: September 20, 2011

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Beaches

Romance

Kayaking

Parks

Resorts

Fort Myers Beach

Estero

There's a reason it's called Lovers Key - this Gulf-side retreat has all the right ingredients for romance.

It seems every syndicated columnist, feng shui enthusiast, relationship therapist, astrologer, scientist or salesman has the key to romance. Being a natural-born cynic, I suspect that most of it is a bunch of hooey. For kicks, I decided to see exactly what the "experts" had to say. The results from a quick Internet query offered solutions ranging from the astrological, mythological and mystical to the psychological, physiological, not to mention suggestions in the greeting-card genre. Oh boy. Well, I wanted to see how these theories tested out on our upcoming trip to an island off the coast of southwest Florida.

Lovers Key State Park and neighboring Lovers Key Resort seemed to share a romantic enough name, but how would they stand up to the "Key to Romance" test?

My wife, Amy, and I cruised through the streets of Fort Myers on our way to Lovers Key. We crossed the Intracoastal Waterway to Fort Myers Beach and headed south, noting the restaurants, shops and cafés we might want to revisit later in the weekend.

As we traversed the bridge over Big Carlos Pass, we could see the wide undeveloped mangrove islands of turquoise Estero Bay to our left. A curving stretch of white sand arched out towards the Gulf to our right. We were ready to let the romance testing begin.

My wife had taken charge of the sheets of "expert" tips I'd printed out at home. She read out the first one: Feng Shui Keys For Romance and Relationships. Its top three keys to romance were southwest-facing buildings, soft lighting and, finally, water fountain. We had a good giggle over that one. That is until we turned off Estero Boulevard into the grounds of the Lovers Key Resort and came upon the resort tower, facing southwest. Amy shot me a quick, mirth-filled glance. The winding drive ended at the resort's entrance fringed with lush tropical foliage.

The living room and bedroom each had massive windows overfilled with bay vistas - vast stretches of clear blue waters of varying shades of wonderful; uninhabited islands of mangrove; and miles and miles of blue sky.

The ground-level entry was subtly perfumed with a floral, tropical scent. Registration is on the first floor. The lobby was flooded with the soft warm light of sunset and a vista of Estero Bay filled the picture windows behind the check-in counter.

"Nice view," I said aloud.

"Your room will have the same one," Beth, the friendly woman at the desk, responded.

"Okay, this is pretty romantic," I admitted to my wife in the elevator up to our room.

"Don't blame it on that feng shui nonsense," she teased.

"Of course not. Resorts perched along turquoise waters are romantic in themselves."

"Right," she concluded.

Our room wasn't a room at all - it was a penthouse suite. "Don't blame that on the stars," my wife cautioned. "It's because you're writing a story."

The check-in clerk hadn't been fully truthful - our view was not the same as that at the desk. It was so much greater. The living room had massive windows overfilled with bay vistas as did the corner balcony – vast stretches of clear blue waters of varying shades of wonderful; uninhabited islands of mangrove, like tufts of green afloat on the bay; and miles and miles of blue sky.

We settled in on the balcony for a glass of the pinot noir we'd brought along. My wife read the next key to romance. This time from an Internet community dedicated to love and relationships. Sunsets (check), walks on the beach (mental note for the morning) and spontaneity. ("Hey! Want to go get some food down there at Flippers on the Bay?" "Sure, that's a great idea. Let's go!").

Seated on a covered deck at the water's edge, we put our silly testing aside to get down to some serious eating. Tuna ceviche for me - I've heard it's an aphrodisiac, and Key West coconut shrimp for Amy, who claimed she'd had a long love affair with coconut shrimp. Just as the sun finally melted in a blaze of orange, we lifted our Keys Lemonades, a mix of lemon-flavored rum, cranberry juice, a splash of sour mix, a splash of 7-UP and a squeeze of lime. "To romance," we toasted, and then we agreed there's nothing more romantic than a good meal.

As we finished our last morsel of dessert, my wife pulled out the stack of papers containing centuries of romantic wisdom. Next up, a thinly veiled advertisement: the key to romance is a two-carat diamond.

"So, when can I expect my two-K rock?" Amy opined amid giggles.

"See that?" I replied, pointing at the full moon hovering above its glittering reflection on the tranquil bay. We savored, for a moment, a light seabreeze and the sounds of lapping water. "That's at least two-carat, and it's all yours."

"That's so cheesy," she grinned.

Next morning, we took our coffee and muffins from the resort's breakfast spread to the pool deck. "Scientists have long known that subliminal scents - pheromones - may be the real key to romance," Amy read.

"How are we going to test that one?" I mused.

"We could go kayaking. You know, work up a sweat."

For many years, Lovers Key (the actual island) was accessible only by boat. Local legend says it got its name from the lovers who would make the trip to revel in its remote beaches along the Gulf. Today, it is one of four barrier islands that constitute Lovers Key State Park. A haven for wildlife, the islands and their waters are home to West Indian manatees, bottlenose dolphins, roseate spoonbills, marsh rabbits and bald eagles. The park entrance was just a few hundred yards from the resort, which shares the island.

Amy and I rented a two-person, sit-on-top kayak. The concessionaire told us we had two launch choices: We could put out into the lagoon leading to the more wide-open waters of the Gulf of Mexico or we could opt for the narrower channels winding into the back waters of the park. She said that there was much more wildlife in the backwaters. And we like wildlife.

I held the long craft steady as Amy climbed into position on the front berth. I pushed off in ankle-deep water into the mostly tannin-colored channel. It took a little while for us to coordinate our paddling. Once we got the hang of it, we were off.

Along the way, we spotted a long list of birds, including cormorants, anhingas, magnificent frigatebirds, herons and white ibis. The water was as smooth as glass in some places and was broken only by jumping fish.

"How do I smell?" I asked to break the silence.

"Pheromone-tastic," she answered.

We pulled back aground, very much in love despite our newfound odors. After a quick trip on the park's tram, Amy and I relaxed with a dip in the Gulf on a remote beach of white sand.

One of the cafés along Fort Myers Beach we'd spied on the way to Lovers Key Resort was named Orpheus and by sheer coincidence, the mythological key to romance was embedded in the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. "It is written in the stars that we should go there for dinner," Amy mocked.

Orpheus Café is a Greek restaurant near the heart of active Fort Myers Beach, a short drive from our island retreat. We pored over the vast menu of Greek, Italian and American favorites. "Did you see the back of the menu has the story of Orpheus, the greatest musician and poet of Greek myth, and his quest to retrieve Eurydice, the love of his life, from the Underworld?" Amy said.

"Yes, yes, very romantic," I murmured between bites of my delectable gyro, accented with tangy tzatziki sauce. "Not nearly as romantic as having so much fun with my wife. Perhaps, the key to romance is a stay on a romantic key?"

"Hmm, perhaps..." my wife grinned.