From the Aug 14, 2003 issue of The Star Documenting Aquatic Treasures The unspoiled stretch of sand, sea oats and thistles on the far end of St. Joseph Peninsula provided a postcard backdrop for filming last weekend. Elam Stoltzfus, a film maker from Blountstown, is producing a documentary on Florida's aquatic preserves, including St. Joseph Bay. Elam Stoltzfus lines up a shot from the water off St. Joseph Peninsula as he films for an upcoming documentary on Florida's aquatic preserves. Yucca, or Spanish bayonet, in full bloom. Elam Stoltzfus Filming Special on Aquatic Preserves by Tim Croft Elam Stoltzfus has a story to tell, a picture to paint. In the forefront of his canvas, captured through the lens of his 16 mm camera, is a proudly erect Yucca, or Spanish bayonet, in full bloom, its white flowers forming a kind of bridal bell, visually tolling its beauty. Beyond, the sugary sand and sea oats stretch down to the waters of St. Joseph Bay, glistening as diamonds in a jeweler's window below an arching dome of azure, the cottony wisp of a cloud forming on the horizon. Stoltzfus shoots several frames of the masterpiece before him, his smile that of a kid just emerging from the candy store, and then calls it a wrap. And then he snatches up his camera, tripod and embarks on a search for another spot, another frame, another sketch that will help shape his story. The story is that of Florida's aquatic preserves, 41 dots on the map encompassing some four million acres of submerged lands that are, in many ways, the state's largely unnoticed and ignored assets. Stoltzfus, a documentary film maker from Blountstown, is in the final stages of composing a symphony to these watery treasures, a 60-minute film to be premiered during a festival in Tallahassee early next year followed by airings on PBS stations around the state. It is the most ambitious project Stoltzfus has undertaken to date, and, judging by his voice and face when talking about the film, his most personally satisfying. "It's a story that needed to be told," Stoltzfus said last weekend as he shot footage on the far end of St. Joseph Peninsula, that area of dunes and sea oats accessible only by boat or to the most hardy hikers. "It's a story that has not been told. It's an honor to be able to tell that story." It is an idea Stoltzfus hatched late last year and pitched to the Florida Department of Environmental Protection. He wanted to raise awareness and educate the public about the state's aquatic preserves, and to do it in the most dramatic way possible, through super 16 mm high resolution film. Stoltzfus brought in his friend, famed Florida photographer Clyde Butcher, official chronicler of life in the Everglades, to the project to act as host and add cache. Finally, early this year, the DEP, in partnership with the National Oceanic and and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), secured the $85,000 for the project, a veritable shoestring as movie budgets go. "The DEP has really gotten behind this project," Stoltzfus said. The reasons are largely self-evident during a weekend trip across St. Joseph Bay and onto the peninsula beyond. Florida's liquid parks are scattered around the state, primarily in estuaries where saltwater and freshwater mix to form the stew from which a host of marine life incubates and comes to life. In the 1970s the state decided to preserve such marine areas before development swamped them. "Aquatic preserves were set aside because they were unique in some way," said Tammy Summers of the Apalachicola National Estuarine Research Reserve. "They were pristine and we wanted to keep them that way. "The goal was to set aside forever state-owned submerged lands that have exceptional biological, aesthetic or scientific value for the benefit of future generations." And Stoltzfus felt there was work to do to inform and educate current generations, who in part use and enjoy the preserves without, in many cases, fully understanding their importance. "Every one (of the preserves) has the same story, but each one is unique," Stoltzfus said. "I want to capture the emotional part of it, to reach people on an emotional level. I want to educate them about what's going on. And I wanted to capture the beauty of the preserves." In a hour-long film, however, it was impossible to show off all 41 preserves, so Stoltzfus and Butcher narrowed the list to about a dozen, from Indian River to St. Johns River Marshes to St. Joseph Bay. In particular, Stoltzfus tried to focus on preserves in areas where encroaching development has brought with it tensions between growth and the environment. "They haven't got a lot of attention in recent years and we want to try and preserve them in the state they are in now," Summers noted. "We don't want to keep them from the historic uses, we want to prevent the water from being degraded. "We want to help people understand what they have and the work we are doing to preserve them." To listen to Stoltzfus, St. Joseph Bay is a textbook example of that theme. As his borrowed boat skims across the looking-glass water, the sea grass below, lush and green with the sturdy white strands of Johnson grass, an endangered underwater species, would be the envy of golf course groundskeepers everywhere. Packs of sting rays dance across the sandy bottom as gray herons glide just above the water's surface. The sun high, the temperature tolerable, the sandy dunes of the peninsula as a backdrop, it is a postcard to capture on super 16 mm. Stoltzfus notes that St. Joseph Bay might be the prettiest, most pin-up worthy, of the preserves he and Butcher have photographed and filmed. And he acknowledges that everywhere around this preserve, development is knocking, ready to break down the door. He frets whether future generations, the children of his children, who are along for the ride this sunny Saturday, will still be able to frolic in the water, build castles in the sand and walk among the oats. "We in North Florida have a unique opportunity," he said with just a hint of wistfulness. "We can control our destiny. And we better get it right." He hopes his film will provide some insight, that people will come to appreciate these liquid parks the way he has, an insight only enriched as he and his camera have traveled the state. "I'm a nature kind of guy, but what's nice about this project is that you slow down and really notice things," Stoltzfus said. Like a blooming Yucca plant, a piece of decaying driftwood which provides a contrast to the thriving foliage beyond, the sea trout that flit to and fro around the boat and the sea oats that waggle in the breeze. The devil is in the details and that is what Stoltzfus seeks, the tiny details, the overlooked nooks of nature. Strung together, they will fill his film, as well as a poster. There will also be a coffee table book of black-and-white photographs which Butcher will publish to go along with Stoltzfus's film. The film will premier during the annual "Seven Days and Seven Nights" arts festival in Tallahassee. The film is scheduled for showing on February 20. They are shooting for a Sunday primetime showing on PBS, though the public broadcast stations in the state set their own schedules. All Stoltzfus wants is to draw people in the way the preserves have drawn him in, to forge a link, a bond between the residents of Florida and some of their most valuable natural treasures. "Once you bring people in, the momentum keeps going," Stoltzfus said. "It's contagious."