It is possible that López made this entry within sight of the shell mound where my house of yellow pine has, since 1926, witnessed a time warp flow of conquistadors, past and present, and too many harmful algae blooms to count.

Rather than puzzle over the mystery of dying fish, López continued south to Cuba. A wise choice. The people who built the mound (contemporaries of the Aztec) disliked interlopers, as proved in 1521 when, on the same bay, near Sanibel Island, they sent Ponce de León packing with a lethal arrow to the thigh.The Calusa, as the indigenous are called, were no less hostile to conquistadors than was the land they inhabited — a lesson modern interlopers would do well to remember.

A typical lethal algae bloom, also known as red tide, moves like a slow-motion hurricane, piling itself ashore with an epicenter that, geographically, varies along the coast. Fishing might be great in Tampa Bay but a waste of time near Sanibel, as was true until recently. As history all but guarantees, it will happen again. As of now, though, the view from my dock includes islands where the beaches are clean and clear — and empty of tourists who still fear the stink and airborne toxins that irritate eyes and lungs. And possibly worse, if certain noxious blue-green bacteria flood into the mix, as was the case this summer. But more on that later

During my 50 years on this coast, I’ve experienced four killer algae blooms as a fishing guide (1972, ’82, ’96 and 2004). As a novelist, I’ve researched the subject, yet my understanding lacks the certainty of those newly acquainted with these blooms. Every 10 to 15 years after a rainy winter or hurricane, acres of bloated fish wash ashore, as well as bottlenose dolphins and manatees. These are lovable mammals with Disney faces — unless poisoned by lethal toxins. On the heels of public outrage come theories. Biologists squabble, environmental groups debate. Learjet conquistadors swoop in, aspirant politicians who see Florida as an untethered plum and who buy their way into office with big bucks and bumper-sticker cures.