Some people see Cape Florida State Recreation Area as a wildlife reserve. Some people see it as a day at the beach. Some people see it as a place to do some fishing, or picnicking, or skating, biking or hiking, or having a bite to eat at a seaside cafe. Lee Niblock sees it as all of these things and more. For Niblock, the park manager, Cape Florida is home.

"When you work for the government, the pay might not be great, but I've lived in the kinds of places normal people can only dream about," Niblock says of his profession. "When you live in a park, there's no such thing as a distant relative or spare bedroom."

That's Lee, quick with a quip that comes and goes before he's off and running, talking about the park, and the park and some more about the park as he drives you round and round on a guided tour.

The tour starts at the front gate, where Lee has some raccoon tales to spin. He came here in October of 1993, two months after the park reopened following its devastation by Hurricane Andrew.

"When I interviewed for this job, I'd only been to Key Biscayne once, and that was to Crandon Park," he says. "When I came here, it was ground zero, mulch barrens. But there were hundreds of raccoons by the entrance. They were so tame and accustomed to being fed that they'd gather around you holding their little paws out."

Now, the entrance appears to be devoid of raccoons and naturally landscaped with a healthy variety of native plants. Lee rattles off about a dozen of the 100 native species that live in the park. Then he turns onto the bike lane, explaining how hikers, bikers, joggers and skaters can get all around Cape Florida without ever having to deal with traffic, except for maybe the park manager's new Jeep.

"When I was first hired, I didn't know enough of what I was getting into to be concerned," he says. "I suppose that my being naive was good because I had no pre-conceived notion of what the park should look like and thought that it should be a synthesis of ideas."

Under Niblock's direction, the "synthesis of ideas" is turning out to be a fusion of nature and more commercial attractions, including the next stop on the tour, the Boater's Cafe. This wooden bait and tackle shop/store/restaurant is under construction at No Name Harbor and will soon open to offer park visitors boating supplies as well as a nice spot to grab a bite, especially around sunset.

Between this new cafe and the wetland restoration, fishing platforms, picnic pavilions, one of the most beautiful beaches in the country, historic lighthouse and keeper's quarters, "movie theater," trails, tropical garden and Lighthouse Cafe, Lee figures to offer visitors more than just nice scenery and natural habitat.

"I want to vary the attractions so people keep coming back again and again," he explains. "We want to offer accessibility to the history of the place as well as the beach without compromising the ecological integrity."

Lee steers the Jeep offroad to take a spin around one part of the wetland restoration project. As the vehicle slips and slides and kicks up mud, Lee talks about drainage, tidal flow and the fallacy that the wetland project will turn into a breeding ground for mosquitoes. Then it's back to solid ground and up a minor mountain of wood chips, where he stops. From this vantage, you can see Biscayne Bay and the Atlantic Ocean, Miami's dramatic skyline, Stiltsville's less dramatic skyline and south as far as the smokestacks at Turkey Point.

"This is a real case of turning a lemon into lemonade," he says about wood chip hill. "After Andrew, we had three to five feet of Australian pine wood chips covering the park. They had a smothering effect which kept exotics from growing before they decomposed to enrich the soil for the natives we planted. Then we made this hill, which is the highest elevation around, except for Mount Trashmore. Eventually, it will be a scenic overlook on the trail that will lead to the youth campground."

Lee doesn't hang around too long to admire the view. He appears to be a man in constant motion, a guy who handles multiple tasks the way Yogi the Bear handles multiple picnic baskets.

"To renovate a park of this size and visitation was a career opportunity," he says. "A world-class restoration is a signature project and I'm the kind of guy who likes a challenge. I wouldn't have come here just to sit back and be a caretaker."

Niblock came here from the Gulf Coast, where he managed parks in Pasco County. Before that, he worked for the park service in Iowa, where he grew up.

"I was born and raised in eastern Iowa--a place called Marquoketa--where my father taught me a good environmental ethic," he says. "I used to hunt and fish and always had a good appreciation for the outdoors."

He went to the University of Wisconsin for his undergraduate degree, then got a masters in public administration and recreation at the University of Iowa. From there, he worked at various Iowa parks before moving to Florida.

"I have a native Floridian for a wife, so I'm legal here," he jokes.

Along with his wife, Connie, Lee has a daughter, Alissa, who will be a freshman at the MAST Academy this year.

"The park alone might not have brought me here," Lee says. "I got sold on the Key Biscayne community. It's a great place to raise a child."

Lee has become an active member of the community, especially as a member and most recent past president of the Rotary Club.

"The Rotary Club is made up of real good people including the police and fire chiefs, the director of community affairs for the local paper, bank branch presidents...movers and shakers of Key Biscayne," he says. "It was a great honor to be elected by them and I really enjoyed serving. And I hope that you mention the Rotary Club in your article, because it will save me a dollar fine at the next breakfast meeting."

Lee drives past the fishing platforms, noting the handicap accessibility. When asked if he fishes, he shakes his head.

"You know, I could fish every day, but I don't. Actually, nowadays for fun I'm taking courses at NOVA to get my doctorate in public administration. If all goes well, both my daughter and I should be graduating during the first part of the next century."

With an eye towards the next century, he steers his Jeep towards a remnant of the last century: the Cape Florida Lighthouse and keeper's cottage. It's noon in the middle of the summer as Lee walks you through a tropical garden on the way to the lighthouse keeper's cottage. The midday sun and heat is oppressive, sweat beading on the park manager's brow. He unlocks the door of cottage's kitchen and you step inside, where it is delightfully dark and cool.

This is the park's "movie theater," where people will be able to come to watch a video about the history of Cape Florida which was made through a grant from the Village. The Cape Florida tape isn't ready yet, but Niblock demonstrates the big screen TV and stereophonic sound with a show about the Serengeti. As a herd of antelope thunder across the African plain, James Earl Jones' resonant voice begins the narration.

Lee kneels down, marveling at the picture and sound, not to mention the air conditioning.

"I always said that if I met an untimely death, I'd want James Earl Jones or Richard Basehart to narrate my nationally broadcast testimonial," he says with a smile. "But now that Basehart is dead, I guess I'd have to settle for James Earl Jones."

A quick tour of the cottage follows. It's actually a replica, the original site now 100 yards offshore. Cape Florida is slowly being eaten away by the sea, but man will do his best to staunch the Atlantic's insatiable appetite. Lee throws open the front door and points out the sea oats which were planted about a year ago and designed to both sure up the ground and hide the protective seawall.

Cape Florida's premiere landmark is next. You follow Lee up the metal spiral staircase of the lighthouse, 109 steps that almost quiet the park manager. Almost, but not quite. Though a bit winded, he manages to tell you about his favorite vocation, travel, and his most recent trip to Scotland.

"We ate haggis, which is stuffed sheep's gut," he says between breaths. "Actually, it tastes pretty good if you put a little scotch on it."

The view atop the lighthouse is worth the trip--the blue sky, aqua-marine sea, powdery beach and park greenery--and you feel privileged to be there. Niblock explains that the lighthouse will be open to the public once the security system is in place. He points out where his house lies at the northern fringe of the park and gives a short discourse on the lighthouse beacon, then it's back down the spiral staircase. You ask Lee about his parents.

He pauses between steps and looks up at you. "I'm an orphan if you know anyone who wants to adopt me," he says, then continues down the winding steps in a more serious vein. "My father died when I was 17. I was on a cross country trip in a VW van and found out about it at the Grand Canyon. I knew he was in the hospital, but didn't expect that. My mother died at 80. The last year was pretty rough for her."

By the time you emerge from the lighthouse, Lee is back to his normal jovial self. As he ducks under the door frame, you ask how tall he is.

"I've always been 6-3 1/2," he says, "but I've put on so much weight since I've been here I've probably compressed some vertebrae."

Lee glances at his watch and decides that it's about time to add some more fodder for vetrebrae compression. He drives you over to the Lighthouse Cafe for lunch. There, you meet a succulent piece of grouper as well as David Gonzalez, the cafe's owner and park concessionaire. Between the high-quality food, beachfront scenery and steady sea breeze, it's a slice of paradise.

"Sixteen months ago, none of this was here," Lee explains. "I remember pulling a picnic table over to this spot, and David and I stood on top of it to see what the view would be like."

The tour winds down after lunch. Lee drives around a picnic ground, shaking his head at the trash people left over the weekend.

"I don't understand how they can so easily cart all of this stuff in and then leave without taking away the empties, which have to be lighter," he says. "You'd be remiss if you didn't include the fact that we need volunteers to help maintain the park, whether picking up trash, removing exotics, planting natives, serving as tour guides, working in the nursery, clerical stuff...if you have some time, we'll find something for you to do."

Anyone interested in volunteering can call the park at 361-8779.

On the way back to the administration building, Lee talks about the park's flora and fauna, history, restoration, construction projects, grants, future attractions such as a glass bottom boat tour and even the best spots to find lobsters if you want to go snorkeling off the coast. What impresses you most about the man is that he can at once sound like an administrator, engineer, grant writer, ecologist, bird-watcher, botanist and public relations officer.

"As a park manager, you have to cover a lot of territory," he says. "A lot of chemistry goes into creating a synergy that makes you what you are." He laughs. "I'm not exactly sure what that is at this point and still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, but I sure am enjoying the trip."