How Storytelling Helped Topple a $47 Million Development That Threatened Local Wildlife

Towards the end of 2019, after nearly two years of planning, I relocated to the US, intending to develop my career as a documentary filmmaker and photographer. I lined up meetings with production companies and agencies and even scored the biggest project of my career: filming the official trailer for Olympus’s upcoming camera. Everything went according to plan until the COVID-19 pandemic hit, indefinitely shutting down all my projects and meetings.

By the time the lockdown lifted, my wife and I emerged from our Brooklyn apartment with a small baby and a polar bear-sized puppy we adopted during the pandemic. I began flying out for projects again, but with no family to help us, my wife was struggling to hold the fort. One night, she asked me if I’d be willing to do something I swore I never would: move to Florida so we could be closer to her parents, who could help us whenever I was away on a project.

In the past, I had made it clear to my wife that I would never move to Florida. But here I was, packing our apartment into a U-Haul and relocating to the Sunshine State. Up to that point, Florida was as far away from my ideal place to live as possible. I saw it as a hot, humid, flat, and dull state. And to top it all off, as a nature lover, I saw Florida’s nature as boring and uninspiring. It wasn’t until I moved there that I discovered how wrong I was.

Shortly after my arrival, a well-known producer reached out to me with an offer to work on developing some projects. One of his projects involved connecting me with a local photographer, 17-year-old Luca Martinez. While most people spent the lockdown indoors, Luca took a camera and, without much experience in filmmaking or photography, headed outdoors to explore the Everglades. Within a short time, and thanks to his natural knack for photography, filmmaking, and storytelling, Luca became a nationwide sensation among nature lovers, photographers, and conservationists.

The producer who connected us requested that we create a sizzle reel about Luca’s work in the hopes that we could develop it into a documentary series. I spent a week filming with Luca as he took me deep into the wilderness of Florida. I found myself diving into pristine cypress domes and exposing myself to incredible biodiversity as I walked waist-deep in duckweed-covered sloughs, searching for rare ghost orchids. I was amazed by the impressive bird population and came to learn about the state’s bears and panthers. I began noticing exotic butterflies, plants, and native trees adorned with Spanish moss. Over time, without realizing it, I slowly but surely began to enjoy Florida. I guess I enjoyed the state so much that I ended up buying a house that I now fill with native plants such as bromeliads, Keylime clustervines, and even the native coontie bush in hopes of attracting the Atala butterflies that nearly went extinct in the not-so-distant past. Florida’s magic had taken over me.

During the pandemic, Luca would venture into the Everglades with just a small hammock, using it to sleep overnight and capture stunning sunrise photos. These days, with no dry ground to rest on, the hammock still serves as his go-to spot for a break amidst the swampy wilderness

Luca discovered his fascination with photography during the pandemic when he began exploring the Everglades. Over time, he fell in love with its wild beauty and has since become one of its most passionate protectors.

Through our mutual work, I found Luca to be an extremely impressive person for his age. His passion for conservation and his articulate expression of thoughts enabled him to truly transmit the beauty of the place I now call home. We began working together on different projects, and over time, it became clear that with my filmmaking skills and experience combined with Luca’s image, social impact, and articulate persona, we could help preserve Florida’s pristine nature and benefit our community. Luca and I worked on several projects together and, over time, developed a routine where Luca would send me a message notifying me about something or someone who needed our help, and I would always reply, “What dates?”

Last September, Luca learned about the Miami Wilds project, a new $47 million development project destined to become the next big tourist attraction in Florida. It was a top-of-the-line waterpark planned to be built on top of the large Miami Zoo car park. While tourism is important, the nature that sustains and makes our living places unique is even more so. In this case, the car park was adjacent to a pine-rock forest housing the largest population of Florida’s bonneted bats. These bats rely on the open spaces of prairies to socialize and feed. With the mass development in South Florida over the years, the only available prairie left for these bats was the large car park, which mimicked their natural habitat. Building Miami Wilds would mean the end of what Luca described to me as a “Bat Nirvana.”

Knowing the importance of saving this species of bats, which can only be found in Florida, Luca and I decided to act. Time was short, as a community vote on the project was imminent. Luca made a video to inform the public and released it on his social platforms. The short video, filmed on a tripod by Luca himself, was a hit. News channels across the state aired the story, and Floridians began writing to their representatives, protesting, and attending hearings to voice their anger and fear of losing what makes Florida’s nature unique. The commissioners got scared and pushed back the vote in hopes that the community would calm down and forget.

That’s when Luca called me. We knew another vote was bound to take place soon, and without a follow-up video, people might lose sight, allowing Miami Wilds to become a reality. As we brainstormed, we received a phone call from an anonymous scientist involved with Miami Zoo. He revealed that he and his colleagues were being silenced from speaking up about the project because the zoo’s management, which prides itself on its conservation efforts, was involved in developing the project. The scientist agreed to speak up as long as we helped hide his identity using voice distortion. Over a period of two days, Luca and I produced, filmed, and edited the project and even managed to recruit famous conservationist Ron Magill, who agreed to speak up, risking his own career.

On the second day of filming in the Miami Zoo parking lot, we noticed a vehicle tailing us. Ready to pack our gear and leave, we were approached by a zoo worker who encouraged us to continue our project despite counter efforts. Within three days, the film was released on Luca’s channels, and just as before, the commissioners got scared and postponed the vote. Ultimately, after almost two decades, the Miami Wilds project, a $47 million development, was finally dead. Luca was the voice for the voiceless, inspiring his followers. It was the people, the community, who posted, reshared, wrote to commissioners, and spoke up against the project, leading to its demise.

I’ve long realized that filmmaking is the most powerful medium of our age. It transforms ideas, social justice, and nature activism into engaging, shareable messages that can educate and drive action. For me, this was another success story, solidifying my belief in my purpose. Documentary work is rarely financially rewarding, but knowing my work helps make a better world is the reason I do what I do.