The first time I visited Cypress Island, setting the anchor took an hour. The bottom was soft, the underwater terrain suspect (at one point the depth sounder flashed an alarming zero fathoms) and the only chart was no help at all. Watching us all the while was a couple on a little motor cruiser who had taken what we figured was the prime anchoring spot. They rowed over and welcomed us, commiserated on our difficulty anchoring (they'd had trouble, too) and proceeded to describe the island as if they had discovered it themselves. Eyes aglow, they spoke of the trails, the birds, the beaches and the rocks. When I told them I was a writer, they urged, "Please, don't ruin this special place."