Islamorada is a fishing town, first and foremost, though more Hemingway than New Bedford. It’s an amazing place. Our waters are as clear as gin. We’ve got 6,000 species of fish within a ten-mile radius. Air doesn’t come any cleaner. Manatees float through our backyard canals. And we are the mecca of saltwater fly fishing.

Wait. There’s more.

Olympians train in our swimming pool. HGTV’s 2008 Dream Home is over by the park. One of our fishing captains has the number one show on the Versus channel. Another skipper has raised over $10 million for cystic fibrosis research. We have fireworks every month and an all-night full moon party. The local diner gives its waitresses health insurance. The world’s largest fake lobster is here. We have more bridges than fast food restaurants.

I don’t know why everyone doesn’t live here.

Boaters crowd our sandbar. Bikers cruise our highway. Preppy clothing companies film commercials on our beaches. Yuppies pose for magazine covers at the fish market. A professional wrestler runs our gym.

I believe that Islamorada has more Super Bowl rings (6) per capita (6,500) than any town in America. National Geographic named us one of the top 12 cities to live in. The Knot said we’re the number three honeymoon spot in the world – behind Venice and Paris.

Presidents vacation here. The greatest hitter in baseball lived a block away. Russian ballerinas stop here to perform. World famous artists have studios in town, and local artists are beloved here.

We kiteboard. We win world fishing championships. We create new styles of music. We look out for our fish, the reef, and each other. And we never shovel snow.

Never mind those hurricanes.