A mellow soundtrack drifted from the docks of the AP Bell Fish Company – the hum of boat engines, the cry of gulls and the gentle slap of bay water against wooden pilings. A large brown pelican seemed to stand guard over the dock, pacing the wooden slats in quiet anticipation of the day’s catch. The air was thick with salt and fish – a heavy perfume telling of a hard day’s work.

I was visiting Cortez Historic Fishing Village, the oldest fishing community on Florida’s Gulf Coast, and a living link to the state’s rich maritime past. Cortez was first established in the late 19th century, when hardy fishermen from North Carolina settled on this protected stretch of Sarasota Bay, drawn in primarily by an abundance of mullet. They also chose this spot for its shelter and calm waters, believing that the barrier islands (sweeping from Anna Maria Island to Longboat Key) would blunt the worst of the Gulf’s hurricanes.

Here, they built wooden cottages and camps along the shore, living simply and working the tides for their livelihood. Over the decades, the village has weathered hurricanes and the slow press of development, yet its spirit has rarely faltered.

I looked out over the water, which was still and sun-dappled. On it bobbed a hodgepodge of gleaming white boats, stamped proudly with women’s names: Miss Gail, Lisa, Karen… The latter arrived and introduced herself cheerfully.

Karen Bell is synonymous with Cortez: she owns the AP Bell Fish Company, a family business, founded by her grandfather in 1923, that’s an enduring cornerstone of the village’s fishing industry. From these weathered docks, AP Bell’s boats still unload the Gulf’s bounty – gleaming grouper, silver mullet and bright snapper – all bound for restaurants and fish markets across Florida and beyond. Practical, straight-talking and deeply rooted in the community, Karen is one of the principal people keeping Cortez’s working waterfront alive today.

“The family legacy here is pretty special,” she explained as she led me away from the water and towards the cavernous fish house, greeting workers warmly as we strolled. “It’s still very much a working fishing village, and there are still a lot of people here with roots going back to North Carolina.”

“The fish here are prized because the waters are so clean and clear. The flesh has great flavour. We ship twice a week to Canada and New York, but mostly it’s a fresh, local product.”

Karen’s modesty belied the scale of the operation. Today, it’s one of the largest remaining commercial fisheries on the Gulf Coast, moving millions of kilos of seafood each year and keeping generations of Cortez families in work. And at the core of everything are the people.

“We depend on ourselves,” she explained as we were enveloped by the clatter of the fish house. “The people here understand fish. It’s hard work – sometimes I’m down here loading trucks at 2am – but it’s rewarding,” she explained. “Not everyone wants this kind of life now. It’s tough work, but it’s honest.”

Inside the fish house, forklifts buzzed between stacks of ice-packed boxes as crews in rubber boots manned the machinery. The air was cool and sharp. We peered into echoing freezers where the scales of crated fish caught the light like silver leaf, and the floor was slick beneath a sheen of ice. Alongside its day-to-day operations, AP Bell offers public tours, giving visitors a chance to see exactly where the region’s cornucopia of seafood comes from.

“That big cold storage building you see holds three million pounds [1,360 tonnes] of fish,” Karen said, raising her voice over the hum of activity.

Sustainability, Karen explained, has always been central to the operation too. As a former member of a federal fisheries council, she helped shape many of the rules that govern the Gulf today, from strict quotas to size limits designed to protect breeding fish. Nothing here goes to waste, either: whole fish are sold fresh, their roe carefully removed and shipped overseas, while smaller catches are used locally or donated.

Karen has also worked with scientists from nearby Mote Marine Laboratory, contributing to studies that examine how fishing practices affect local stocks. It’s the kind of collaboration, she said, that helps ensure the Gulf’s resources are managed responsibly for the future. She spoke about the delicate balance between livelihood and conservation, acknowledging that fishing communities like Cortez depend on both. “People have to have a means to live,” she said. “But you also have to make sure that the stock is there for the future.”

Beyond the thrum of the docks and the fish house, the wider village unfolds in a tangle of colourful cottages, washed in sun-bleached blues, buttery yellows and chalky pinks. The narrow roadways are punctuated by palm trees. Most of the original 19th-century structures were destroyed in a devastating hurricane in 1921, but they were rebuilt soon after, often on the same lots and using salvaged materials. Today, the village is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, recognised as one of the last intact examples of Florida’s maritime heritage.

I rattled through Cortez on a golf cart with Karen, pausing before the Florida Maritime Museum, housed in a schoolhouse built in 1912. When the museum is open, it leads walking tours throughout the village. Inside, its exhibits trace Florida’s Gulf Coast heritage through old photographs and artefacts such as boat-building tools that tell the story of Cortez’s fishing families.

“We also have a festival every February,” Karen added. “The Cortez Commercial Fishing Festival, which highlights the fishing industry. The proceeds help support the FISH Preserve [a 38-hectare stretch of protected mangrove and wetland habitat on the edge of the village, owned by the Florida Institute for Saltwater Heritage]. It’s a nice way to showcase what we do.”

“We have exhibits on different types of gear, and a couple of years ago we even had a fisherman’s fashion show,” she chuckled.

We finally pulled up before Tide Tables, the casual dockside restaurant co-owned by Karen Bell. It’s one of a pair of restaurants owned by Bell – the other, Star Fish Company Seafood Market and Restaurant, sits right along the waterfront beside the fish house, serving the day’s catch at wooden picnic benches overlooking the bay. There, wooden signs advertise ‘fresh smoked mullet’, and the market is filled with spices and trinkets. At Tide Tables, the smell of grilled grouper drifted over the water as more pelicans waited hopefully nearby.

“The grouper we serve here comes right off our boats,” Karen said. “The grouper sandwich is really good – you can have it fried, grilled or blackened.” The grouper came out piled into pillowy bread, served with a mountain of fries and creamy coleslaw. The menu heaved with other seafood options too – blackened mahi tacos, scallops and shrimp po’boys.

“What I love about this work is that it’s real,” Karen said as the sunlight danced on the water beyond the cheerful jumble of tables. “Fishing is part of Florida’s agricultural heritage. Feeding people, working with nature – it keeps us grounded. It’s a closeknit community and I’ve travelled enough to know this is what I love.”

The boat hummed softly as we edged out from the marina into still, turquoise waters. Egrets picked their way through the shallows and pelicans idled on channel markers, wings spread to dry in a gentle breeze. Overhead, a cormorant cut a low arc across the bay, vanishing beneath the surface with barely a ripple. At first, there was no flicker of a fin, only the hush of water beneath us and a quiet, gathering anticipation that a creature might break the surface at any moment.

“Every trip is different. Sometimes we find dolphins ten minutes into a trip; other times, we might enjoy a boat ride for an hour before we come across them,” said Captain Chris as we slipped deeper into the bay, scanning the surface for the first sign of movement. “You can’t guarantee a sighting of a wild animal; that’s not realistic. But it’s not a matter of if we see them, it’s when. They’re here; it’s just a matter of finding them.”

I was out on the water with Anna Maria Island Dolphin Tours, skimming across the sheltered shallows of Anna Maria Sound in search of the famed resident dolphins that live in the Sarasota Bay estuarine system.

Around 170 strong, this multi-generational community of dolphins has thrived here for decades. They’re also the most closely documented bottlenose population on Earth.

“We’re lucky to have a resident population of Atlantic bottlenose dolphins here. That means they don’t migrate. They’re here year-round, which is why we can reliably do this,” said Chris as we scanned the shimmering surface. “The Sarasota Dolphin Research Program has been studying these dolphins locally since 1970 – that’s 55 years of research and data.”

This is the world’s longest-running study of wild dolphins. Across more than five decades, its scientists have pieced together an unrivalled picture of bottlenose dolphin life, from social bonds and breeding behaviour to health, communication and the ways humans shape their world. It’s a legacy of research that continues to shape how we understand – and protect – dolphins around the globe today. “Any dolphin we encounter today is part of the baseline for worldwide research on Atlantic bottlenose dolphins,” Chris added.

It was as if the dolphins were eavesdropping. When Chris cut the engine in a still pocket of Anna Maria Sound, a pair of glistening backs suddenly rose in perfect, rainbow-like arcs. Chris pointed fervently, the sight of these majestic marine mammals seeming to lose none of its magic for him, even after decades spent working at sea. The duo carved a straight path through the water, surfacing for breath every 30 to 45 seconds, and we watched in the stillness.

“When we encounter them, they’ll be doing one of four things: transiting [travelling from A to B], feeding [they eat about 5% of their body weight daily], courting or socialising. They’re highly intelligent, social animals with elephant-like memories. After a couple of breaths, you can interpret their behaviour,” explained Chris. This was all information that he’d drawn from the extensive studies of the Sarasota Dolphin Research Program.

He deduced that the pair that we had been closely watching was actually a mother and her calf. “That’s the most common pairing. They are often part of a larger nursery group made up almost entirely of related females: sisters, cousins, aunts, even grandmothers,” he explained. “Males may join briefly to socialise, but usually they stay separate. Yet when two dolphins of the same size swim together, they’re almost always males. A male pair bond is the strongest alliance in the dolphin world.”

I watched transfixed as the mother and baby danced through the bay. Another boat had drifted to a stop in the distance, and the ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of its passengers echoed faintly across the water.

“These guys are feeding,” Chris observed, as the two dolphins surfaced in quick, breathless bursts, apparently twisting and circling beneath the water in pursuit of fish hidden in the seagrass.

The bay provides near-perfect hunting grounds, and that rich supply of easy prey is one reason these dolphins remain here year-round. “The shallow bay means dolphins don’t have to work too hard to hunt – here it’s essentially a giant grass flat with abundant food. And they’re apex predators, too. We don’t get large numbers of big sharks in this area. With plentiful food, easy hunting, few predators and consistently warm water (21-32°C/70- 90°F), they have everything they need, so why leave?”

That permanent residency is what makes them so invaluable to the Sarasota Dolphin Research Program, offering scientists a rare chance to study the same individuals and families over decades. I would later catch up with Randall Wells, director and co-founder of the Sarasota Dolphin Research Program.

“Several features make Sarasota Bay a great ‘natural laboratory’,” he explained to me. “The enclosed, sheltered nature of the bay provides calm, protected working conditions. Shallow waters mean that much of what the animals do is near the surface, facilitating observations. This is in combination with the fact that extensive, long-term background information is available for each of the resident dolphin ‘cast of characters’.”

Researchers with the programme monitor the dolphins and their environment in many different ways. They photograph individual fins to track who’s who over time, survey fish to measure prey availability, and carry out regular health checks. As well as listening in on the underwater soundscape, they sometimes tag dolphins to follow their movements and spend hours observing their behaviour in detail.

Randy added that perhaps the most important discovery has been that the dolphins of Sarasota Bay – as well as others along Florida’s west coast – are deeply loyal to their home waters, returning to the same places decade after decade and generation after generation.

“In addition, we were the first to define the social structure of a wild dolphin population and to identify the patterns of alliance formation among adult males. Much of what is known about how dolphins use whistles as names and to communicate with one another was learned from collaborators working with these dolphins.”

Back on the boat with Anna Maria Island Dolphin Tours, the show continued. Every so often, a broad, sickle-shaped tail broke the surface, followed by a scatter of ripples – a sure sign of a successful hunt. Then, as quickly as they would appear, the dolphins would vanish again, surfacing several metres away as they pursued their prey.

“Dolphins also socialise,” Chris continued as we followed these creatures from a distance. “You’ll see a change in behaviour as they gather and swim together, like friends meeting for dinner. They’ll stay together for a while before going their separate ways. If you watch long enough, you can see these social patterns unfold.”

Sure enough, eventually the pair of dolphins we’d been watching was joined by two more, their glistening backs cleaving through the shallows in loose synchrony. Then, one dolphin suddenly broke free of the surface, launching itself dramatically skywards in a fluid arc, sunlight catching the spray as it hung for a heartbeat in the air. The move seemed more flourish than function, a joyful punctuation mark to their hunt, as though they were blissfully aware of the eyes fixed upon them. It was a fleeting encounter, but one that offered a glimpse into the intricate lives unfolding just beneath the surface.

Pine Avenue – lined with cheerful boutiques and family-run cafés – has earned the moniker ‘Greenest Little Main Street in America’ for its energy-efficient buildings, zero-waste ethos and cluster of locally owned businesses.

We spoke to restaurateur and changemaker Ed Chiles, who helped pioneer its sustainable design.

You’ve spent your life on and around Anna Maria Island. What makes this stretch of the Florida coast so special to you?

Authenticity, character, heritage and history – Anna Maria Island, and nearby Cortez, are such great examples of that. This stretch of Florida’s Gulf Coast is the only one bordered by three national estuaries (Tampa Bay, Sarasota Bay and Charlotte Harbour). This underpins everything. Those estuaries are critical habitats for forage fish, for manatees, for water quality and for biodiversity. I was in the restaurant business for 45 years, and all three of my restaurants were on the water.

Pine Avenue was effectively reborn in the early 2010s. How did that project come about?

Anna Maria Island has three little cities – Bradenton Beach, Holmes Beach and Anna Maria on the north end. Back in the early 1900s, George Bean and Charles Roser platted [planned] the town and built the City Pier on the bay side. Pine Avenue was the little street that connected straight across to the Gulf, to the 1913 bath house they called the Pavilion. It was always meant to be our ‘Main Street’, but it never really happened that way.

When the real estate boom hit in the 2000s, a lot of the street was about to turn residential. I knew one of the most important threads in the fabric of a community is its small business district. So, a friend, Mike Coleman, came to me and said: “I think we need to buy Pine Avenue.” Within a couple of weeks, we had 15 properties under contract. We had this beautiful blank canvas and we wanted a project that mirrored the charm of Anna Maria – something that looked like it had always been here.

Pine Avenue is now known as the ‘Greenest Little Main Street in America’. What has made it so groundbreaking?

A major goal of the project was to build the greenest buildings in the city. We wanted to be a model for responsible development in the hope and belief that others would follow. We used ICF construction (Insulated Concrete Formwork that can take 260km/h winds), native landscaping and permeable paving instead of asphalt.

We didn’t want anything that stopped water from filtering naturally. Advanced sustainable water management systems were a big part of that. We didn’t use any impervious surfaces outside of the footprint of the buildings – we had a system that collected rainwater and stored it in ‘bladders’ underneath the porches.

In terms of building materials, the floors were made from reclaimed Florida heart pine, recovered from the bottom of the Suwannee and other North Florida rivers.

We built up to two storeys, because we wanted it to reflect the low-rise nature of our precious island – businesses on the bottom, residences on the top. There were also edible community gardens on each lot, supporting things like moringa, basil and rosemary. The project won awards from the Florida Green Building Association, and then an English couple, the Thrashers, came along and took it to the next level: LEED Platinum, net-zero energy on the five lots they purchased. Pretty soon, people knew Pine Avenue.

How would you describe the spirit of Pine Avenue today?

It’s a small business community. The people who own the shops are entrepreneurs who want to be part of this place.

You can start your morning with a coffee, wander past the old Roser Church, pop into a boutique or a doughnut shop, and end up on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world at the Sandbar Restaurant. The people staying in the rental houses, the locals, the business owners – everyone’s out walking, cycling, talking to one another. There’s a real feeling that this is a place that still values community and connection.

Why is it so important to protect and preserve Pine Avenue?

We were given the opportunity to do something special here, to do it right. Anna Maria Island is rare and precious, and I wanted my grandson to grow up in an Anna Maria that’s similar to the one I knew as a kid.

You can’t stop growth, but you can attract the kind of people who share these values. People who say ‘that’s the kind of place I’m looking for’.

Once a sleepy patch of early 20th-century bungalows, Bradenton’s Village of the Arts has been transformed into a hub of creativity and community. Spanning 9th to 17th Avenue West and 9th to 14th Street West, the village today is a swirl of ice cream-hued cottages and hand-lettered signs that beckon travellers inside studios, galleries and cafés.

Established in the early 2000s as a grassroots effort to revitalise a neglected neighbourhood, the Village of the Arts has grown into one of Florida’s most vibrant live-work artist communities: a place where colourful sculptures spill from porches, music drifts through the air and galleries burst with paintings inspired by Bradenton’s idyllic seascapes.

We speak to the artists and entrepreneurs who have helped the village evolve into becoming the beating heart of the Bradenton Area’s creative scene.

“I’m originally from Mexico, and I’ve had my gallery here in the Village of the Arts for 13 years. Even before that, I was always making art and painting. This is a beautiful community to be a part of.

We live in a difficult world, and I offer something positive through my art. There’s something joyful in the process itself, and when people see my bright colours, it makes them smile. Some of my work is lighthearted, some of it is more spiritual. When clients tell me my paintings make them feel happy, I know I’m doing something meaningful.

My colours and themes come from my Mexican roots. I grew up in Guerrero, a few miles from Acapulco, and later lived in Mexico City when I was in college. I’ve been in the US for 20 years, but there’s something in my brain that always reminds me where I came from. The colours are Mexican; they’re in me. I consider myself a Mexican artist, though, of course, my surroundings here in Florida influence my work too – the beach scenes, the blue skies. It’s a beautiful blend.

Since 2013, I’ve made about 700 pieces and sold around 500 of them. I like my work to be accessible – not too expensive – because I want people to live with art. I work right here in the gallery. It’s often a bit messy – paint everywhere, dust from the clay – but that’s part of the process. Working with clay especially feels very healing.

The community here is special. On the first Friday of every month, we all come together for Art Walks and other events. Every month, there’s something new. For me, the biggest event of the year is Day of the Dead in November. We have music in the streets, food and altars. People come from all over the world to see it. It can be difficult to make a living as an artist, but this place makes it possible. We support each other. My friend Zoe at the Divine Excess Folk Art Gallery has been collecting my work for 15 years. I always say she’s the matriarch of the whole community.

We also have other wonderful artists nearby: Joan Peters Gallery on 11th Avenue, Manatee Pottery on 12th Street, Studio ‘C’ Gallery [run by Connie Buckler-Gill]… It’s a tight-knit place, and even though we’re all different, we share the same spirit.

Living here has changed my life. I was already an artist before I came, but when I found this community, I knew this was where I wanted to be.”

“I’m originally from Wisconsin, but I have been in the Bradenton Area and Anna Maria Island for more than 35 years. I was at the Towles Court Artist Colony in Sarasota for ten years, then became the director of the Anna Maria Island Artists’ Guild and gallery, and curator of the Anna Maria Historical Society Museum for another ten years. I was finally able to have my own gallery here in the Village, and I have run it for the past 17 years. I own one of the largest galleries in the Village, plus a home next to my gallery.

I have always been drawn to two-dimensional art and spiritual art. Right now, I specialise in making shrines, altars, crosses and wall plaques featuring Buddha, Goddess, Christian Madonnas and Jewish menorahs, as well as house blessings, covering them with beautiful antique jewellery. People often ask how I became an artist – my answer is: ‘You are born an artist!’

Divine Excess Folk Art Gallery is located in a 1925 Florida cottage. It holds seven rooms filled with art by 20 top Florida folk artists. I had been collecting Florida folk art for myself, so when I was finally able to have my own gallery – and discovered no one on the entire Florida Gulf Coast was representing this wonderful, unique Southern art style – I knew what my gallery would be.

Bradenton’s Village of the Arts is unique: a place where, 25 years ago, the City of Bradenton allowed artists to live, work and sell their art out of their homes. Today, we have galleries, speciality shops, restaurants and more, all nestled in historical cottages painted in vibrant colours. Work by these local artists is displayed inside and out, with a wide variety of fabulous outdoor sculptures. Inside you will find watercolour paintings, clay and pottery, jewellery, crafts and more. No two galleries are alike. The entire spectrum of art can be seen in the Village.”

“My partner, Shaman Jeff, and I have been part of this creative community for nearly 15 years. The vision behind The Village Mystic [a metaphysical shop in the heart of the VOTA] was to create a space where people could explore their spiritual journey in a welcoming and down-to-earth way.

It’s all about nurturing balance for the body, mind and spirit while building a sense of community and connection. The Village Mystic is a one-stop destination for all things body, mind and spirit. We offer crystals, jewellery and metaphysical tools, along with classes, meditations and sound baths. Visitors can also experience energy work and intuitive readings with Shaman Jeff.

The Village of the Arts is a unique live-work community filled with galleries, shops, studios and restaurants. The vibe is fun, funky and always evolving – there’s truly nothing else like it.

What makes it special is the sense of creativity and connection. It’s a place where artists, makers and dreamers come together to share their passion with each other and the community.

Some of my favourite spots in the Village include The Village Patio, one of the newest and most delicious additions to the neighbourhood, and Ortygia, where Chef Gaetano has been a beloved staple for years.”

“I’m a muralist and artist who has spent the last 25 years transforming walls into vibrant, meaningful works of art. I love creating pieces that reflect the spirit of a community and make everyday spaces more beautiful. I moved to the Village of the Arts (VOTA) about ten years ago. As a creative, I can’t imagine living anywhere else now. The creative hum and the sense of community in this neighbourhood feeds the energy I need to go out and create big pieces.

Colourful cottages housing artists’ studios and galleries is how the VOTA is generally described, but it is so much more than that. It’s a place where you know your neighbours; where you can stand in the street and chat about the weather even though you don’t speak the same language. You can also stop at other artists’ studios and see what they’ve been working on lately.

For visitors, it’s best to have a spirit of adventure. There are a handful of studios and galleries scattered throughout the neighbourhood. Be sure to wander down the side streets and you’ll always find a few open. There are restaurants too: Arte Caffe [known for pizza, pasta and sandwiches] is a truly unique experience and feels like a small-town café you might find in Italy.

Village Mystic is a great place to start your day – odds are they will have maps and also know who else is open. Witchgrass Studio has glass art and classes, Manatee Pottery and Studio ‘C’ Gallery are mustsees, and it’s worth the wander down 11th to catch renowned artist Alfredo Garcia at work in his studio Arte Coyoacano. And for modern art and cool artsy gifts, just a few doors down is Left Of Center Gallery.

My current focus is designing vibrant, eye-catching pieces that speak to the community they inhabit, adding dynamic impact in mixed-use neighbourhoods. The great thing about public art is that people get excited about it. It gives them a sense of pride in their community and touches their lives in a way that a painting in a gallery might not. Public art has the ability to transform not only a space but a community’s perception of that space. That’s what drives me to create this kind of work.”

Sample some local bites

From Mediterranean flavours to Florida-fresh plates, the Village of the Arts is packed with personality-driven places to eat. Ortygia Restaurant is a neighbourhood stalwart, where Chef Gaetano Cannata dishes up Sicilian recipes in a cosy, cottage-style setting. Newcomer The Village Patio brings a breezy al-fresco vibe with a menu of salads and tacos, while quirky Arte Caffe dishes up homemade pizza, pasta and sandwiches in a curio-filled space that feels like someone’s living room. For something offbeat, Adobe Kava offers a mellow, bohemian hangout spot, with its graffiti-style murals and traditional kava root drinks, kombucha and herbal teas.

Gallery hop in the afternoon

A joy to wander, the Village’s streets brim with artist-run studios and galleries. Step into Arte Coyoacano Gallery for vibrant Mexican folk art or admire colourful ceramics at Manatee Pottery. Joan Peters Gallery specialises in expressive coastal paintings, while Witchgrass Studio showcases an eclectic mix of collage and assemblage.

Get your music fix

Catch local bands, acoustic sets and DJs during the monthly Art Walks, or browse vintage vinyl at The Record Place, a crate-digger’s mecca tucked among the pastel-painted cottages.

Shop for treasures

Many artists sell one-of-a-kind pieces direct from their studios and galleries – think hand-thrown pottery, eco-dyed textiles and upcycled jewellery. Don’t miss The Village Mystic for crystals, workshops and spiritual art that reflects the Village’s creative soul. Alternatively, you’ll find a rotating showcase of local creators, from painters to jewellers, at The Village Art House Collective.