Anne collected a series of these thoughts into a book called Gift from the Sea. It was published in 1955 and stayed at the top of the best-seller list for years. It definitely struck a chord with its target audience of affluent but dissatisfied housewives; and though its message is quite timid by today's standards, it is looked back on as one of the major precursors of the feminist movement, and as the grandmother of today's self-help books.

But to me all the book's accomplishments obscure its larger meaning as far as Captiva goes. Here is this woman who desperately needs to get away before she goes nuts, so she goes off to this idyllic place. Once there, she discovers the answer to her problems. But it's not something that just occurs to her. It is something that is presented to her by the island. Only Captiva, with all its shells, could have revealed the secret. God knows what would have happened if she went to, say, Puerto Rico.

But she went to Captiva. And not only did she get a good rest, she became more spiritual and made millions. As far as vacations go it may be the most successful of all time. And it happened right on Captiva.

Break or initial cap

An experience like Mrs. Lindbergh's is a little too much to hope for, but today's visitor can still have a good time, both spiritually and physically. The aforementioned traffic aside, Sanibel has the air of a prosperous, low-key resort town. Like most barrier islands, it has a distinctive geography-a main road off which smaller roads branch and head down to the Gulf, in one direction, or the bay, in the other. Men and women who look like they might be retired doctors and college professors pedal their bikes. The only business being conducted is resort business-shopping, real estate. There are no high-rises, and the shopping plazas are discreet, even attractive. A tendency is developing toward the use of bright pastels in the signage, which disturbs me a little. It just isn't Sanibel.

Captiva is just to the north of Sanibel, over a little bridge. It is the deluxe version, put out to please a more discriminating market. It has its share of mega-mansions, to be sure, but they are hidden away down winding drives. Much of the housing stock remains gussied-up old beach houses of decades past. It is the custom to give the larger of these names, which are painted on signs out by the driveway: Osprey's Nest, Pair-a-dice. There is a tiny little downtown, which is suddenly becoming very upscale.

Both islands have plenty of places to stay, from a big family-oriented condo resort like the Sundial, to the ultra-deluxe South Seas Plantation. But the 'Tween Waters Inn offered me a free room if I paid my own bar bill and was out by Wednesday, so I decided to give it a try. Besides, the Inn best captures the style of the place, everyone would agree. It has been there since the early days and much of the islands' history happened there. Teddy Roosevelt visited, and the Lindberghs, of course. It is where the famous cartoonist Jay "Ding" Darling-more about him later-wintered for 30 years, till he finally broke down and built a house, which is at the end of a pier way out in the Gulf and today is the studio of painter Robert Rauschenberg.

The word for the 'Tween Waters Inn is eclectic. The buildings are a harmonious jumble of styles, from tiny bungalows circa 1920 to modern-day, condo-like suites. Even the clientele is eclectic. At dinner in the Old Captiva House, I marveled at the mix: prosperous country-club Republicans next to hip young people from New York. Aside from excellent food, the Old Captiva House is notable as the place where Mrs. Lindbergh would dine after a hard day of examining shells, and on the walls are some of Ding Darling's cartoons. His triptych lampooning local shellers may well be the perfect Captiva work of art.

Sanibel and Captiva have the odd distinction of being places where people come for the seashells. The beaches are nice but what really makes them unique are the shells that wash up each day. And not just one or two great mounds of the things that you've got to slog through. This occurs because of the way the islands lie in the prevailing current. It's very rare and only happens here and in Africa. As a consequence, the islands-particularly Sanibel, which has an east-west orientation-are a mecca for anyone seriously interested in seashells. Shells are so important that when somebody finds a junonia, they get their picture in the paper. A store called She Sells Sea Shells has two different branches. They even have a seashell museum, and it is well worth a visit. Don't miss the video; at 30 minutes it's a little long but you sure do learn a lot about seashells. I had no idea they were such randy little creatures.