When my Dad retired from the USAF, we lived in Fort Lauderdale and he worked as a private pilot. (He even flew Kissinger around South Florida)
We would go to the Bahamas and stay at the private island (near Eluthera) of a client who only used his house at Christmas. We didn't use the house. We camped. One night the mosquitos were so bad, we set up our lounge chairs and slept in the warm water. When we flew away the next morning we could see a school of sharks... in the crystal clear water a few hundred feet from where we'd been sleeping.
