66 was the year of William Grefé's Evergladesploitation trash hits Sting of Death and Death Curse of Tartu. The national park proved an apt locale for cheap horror; most of the time the proceedings feel almost as exotic as the Filipino 'Blood Island' movies. The lush marshlands are beautifully photographed for the most part and Sting of Death even has an airboat chase scene.
Make no mistake, the film is a stinker. A research team plus a bunch of roistering college kids are terrorized by a jellyfish-man killer who looks like a garbage bin version of the mushroom people in Toho's Matango. The pacing is not as abysmal as in Death Curse of Tartu (where an unreasonably big chunk of the runtime is padded with various characters trudging through bog to suspense music), but the movie is low on thrills of any kind. It's really only worth seeing for the scenery and that bizarre jellyfish costume.