Bay Soundings l Profile

At Home with Diane and Ernst Peebles

By Mary Kelley Hoppe

They are one of Tampa Bay’s dynamic duos. She is an acclaimed painter and marine wildlife illustrator with a large and growing following. He is a renowned estuarine scientist who also happens to be her biggest fan and best critic. Meet Diane Rome Peebles and Ernst Peebles.

They’re both smitten with fish, and have parlayed that love into successful careers.

Artist Diane Peebles and USF scientist Ernst Peebles with their
children, Cammie and Bryan.

Diane’s fine oil paintings of leaping tarpon and prize-fighting snook are coveted by anglers and art collectors, fetching anywhere from $2000 to $20,000. She sold her first painting, a kingfish, for $800. Even those unfamiliar with her work are likely to have seen her paintings at area Bonefish Grills, part of the Outback family of restaurants.

She started out working as a naturalist for Pinellas County, drawing trees, turtles and shells for field guides and signs. Her detailed illustrations drew the attention of biologists at the state marine research institute in St. Pete who enlisted her to illustrate papers and public outreach materials. But it wasn’t until the mid-1980s — when Ernst’s career as a research scientist at USF was solidly on track – that the talented illustrator began showing her work at fishing shows and entering stamp design competitions.

The couple made it work by “leap-frogging” – when one would reach a stable point in their career they’d allow the other one to leap forward. Diane supported Ernst through graduate school at USF, and when Ernst landed a faculty research post at the university, it was Diane’s turn to aggressively pursue her art career.

Leaping Tarpon by artist Diane Rome Peebles

When both their careers were firmly established, they made the biggest leap of all – becoming parents. Cammie is now 5, Bryan is 7.

Home is a casual 1850-square-foot cottage in St. Petersburg’s historic Kenwood district; out back is a deluxe 850-square-foot garage for the couple’s other prize possession, a catamaran Calcutta 263 (26 feet, three inches), which Ernst designed. “We built a better house for our boat,” he quips.

The backyard also sports a workshop where Ernst practices wordworking – he fashioned Diane’s now rickety but much loved drafting table out of junk wood they found floating down the Mississippi River.

The Louisiana natives grew up around the corner from each other, but didn’t meet until their senior year at Tulane University. Diane was preparing for a career in medical illustration. Ernst was headed toward a career in fisheries research. An ichthyology class turned Diane on to the possibility of drawing fish rather than body parts — that, and a short stint as a lab assistant at USF medical school where she spent time looking through an endoscope and drawing ulcers. It was not for her, she concluded.

From their living room sofa, Ernst and Diane keep tabs on Diane’s studio and her latest work in progress, a school of skipjack tunas. Diane welcomes Ernst’s thoughts on the piece. “He knows art and he knows fish, and he can be a little more objective than I can.”

Cammie sits between them, nestled up against her mom. She lights up when the conversation turns to fishing. Grunts are her favorite – they have a bright orange mouth “and taste really good.” She’s a budding artist who, like her parents and big brother Bryan, loves to fish. Bryan, says Diane, has already declared his future.

He wants to be a scientist like his dad.

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