Consider a vacation to be a panacea—a cure-all for stress, anxiety, and a remedy for stale creativity. If so, then Panacea, in Florida’s eastern panhandle, just west of the big bend, must be the place to vacate for a few days.

Though in the same state, it’s far different from what I’m use to in the central and southern region of Florida.  They call the area “the forgotten coast”. That’s good, because many there have forgotten what century we’re living in.

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Try paying for fuel with a debit card in the town of Wacissa, about 40 miles east of Panacea and 20 miles south of Tallahassee. The guy behind the cash register of the only gas station in town; with pumps that are a throwback to the 60’s, will grin at you with curious bewilderment.

And don’t mention to the locals bellied up to the bar of the Posey Up The Creek Steam Room that you have a fondness for all things (big D) Democratic. They’ll let you know that the last Democrat they cared for was the segregationist Governor of Alabama, George C. Wallace (Which should tell you something about how they must feel about our 44th President).

On a positive note, in addition to forgetting the times we’re living in, they also forgot to muck up the place with large residential developments, high-rise condos, or amusement parks. Delightfully, there are vast areas that are much like they were when Spanish conquistador Hernando De Soto traversed the area around 1539.

They also forgot to muck up the rivers; some of the best kayaking in Florida: (from west to east) the Ochlockonee, the Sopchoppy, the Wakulla Springs, The St. Marks, and the beautiful that time forgot, the Wacissa. Wakulla Springs is the crystalline river that launched the career of Olympic swimmer, Johnny Weissmuller in 1943.

All in all, Panacea can be panacea for the soul, if you know what to look for. Like Bill Schroeder, a salty fisherman I met.

For Bill, it wasn’t about the catching. It was more about the being out, away from all the distractions. He would walk by my place early enough in the morning, strolling down to the most isolated spot on the beach he could find, and stand there surf fishing all day.

Looked more like gazing to me. A fish on his hook disturbed his cosmic moment.

He’d stand there, gazing out to sea. Then late in the afternoon he’d pack up and stroll back by; leaving in a much better mood than when he arrived. I assumed he had a bottle of something in his bait cooler. Turned out his was just happy to be out, breathing in the positive karma.

A panacea for the soul… if only you could bottle that.

Keep breathing!