Dry Tortugas National Park
Dry Tortugas National Park was originally composed of 11 small keys 70 miles west of Key West, Florida. Hurricanes over the years have decimated four of those, but this February our explorations are limited to the main island, Garden Key, because terns are mating on the surrounding keys, and we don’t want to interrupt.
Ponce de Leon named the keys Las Tortugas because of the number of turtles there. “Dry” became part of the name when it was discovered that none of the keys offered any water.
We and about 50 others arrive by commercial boat through rough seas. Mark and I managed well enough, but many, many of our mates did not fair so well. But we are secured to the dock now and disembark to an immediate tour of Fort Jefferson, which basically encircles almost the whole of Garden Key.
Fort Jefferson was built in the mid 19th century to protect the shipping channels of the Gulf of Mexico, however, construction was halted in the later 1800s because of advancements in weaponry; a brick wall, no matter how fortified, will not withstand repeated batterings from high-power cannons.
The fort looks pretty complete, and it did serve as a prison. Dr. Samuel Mudd is the most notorious prisoner to serve time there. Mudd set the leg of President Lincoln’s assassin, broken when he jumped from the balcony to flee the theatre after issuing the single gun shot. Dr. Mudd denied complicity, but nevertheless was convicted.
From the top of the fort we see the smaller Long Key and Bush Key. The surrounding aqua water, through which we see coral colonies, takes our breath away, it’s so pretty. While we linger over the view, our history lesson continues.
At the height of its population, when the fort served as a prison, Garden Key was home to more than 1000, mostly men, most set up in tents. The military officers had more permanent abodes of stone, some of which still stand on the grounds. At this time scurvy, which is caused by lack of vitamin C, became a problem, and within a relatively short time, the epidemic claimed 80 lives.
To overcome monotony on the key, some men sang and danced, played instruments or acted out plays. During the time of the scurvy outbreak, one of the commanding officers asked these men to perform for pay as a means to end the epidemic. The paying audience consisted of military men mostly. However, even passing ships would stop for a show. The key became the Las Vegas of the Gulf of Mexico, and the performers earned enough money to purchase significant quantities of Key limes from Key West to provide the lifesaving vitamin C the island occupants so needed. Among the 80 lives claimed were those of every one of the island’s nurses. Therefore, an appeal was made to Dr. Mudd, who helped bring the epidemic to its end and thus earned himself a pardon after serving two years.
We really enjoy learning some seemingly obscure American history, and after a lunch of sandwiches, potato salad, chips and cookies on the boat, we walk to the small beach for snorkeling (me) and reading (Mark).
Winds are high, and high winds are not conducive to snorkeling. However, I stay out about an hour, swimming along the fort wall, which, we’re told, offers better opportunities to see sea life. The waters here are crowded—not with fish but with other snorkelers. Orange and burgundy sea plants undulate with the waves, and a couple interesting fish swim among them, but I’ve experienced better snorkeling.
Away from the fort, 30 feet or so off shore, sea grass and dull coral offer hiding spots for dull-colored fish. I follow them, swimming back and forth, because I’m sure not to bump into anybody as I’m the only swimmer out here.
On the beach Mark hands me a towel, and I give him my score of the site for snorkeling: 5 on a scale from 1 to 10. A woman next to us asks if I saw the sting ray. If I had, the score would bump up a point, but, alas, I didn’t.
We leave Garden Key at 2:30 p.m., and the seas are still rough. I don’t know how everyone fares because I curl up and nap the two and a half hours back to Key West, ultimately glad that we had a chance to visit another of our nation’s treasured National Parks.
Ponce de Leon named the keys Las Tortugas because of the number of turtles there. “Dry” became part of the name when it was discovered that none of the keys offered any water.
We and about 50 others arrive by commercial boat through rough seas. Mark and I managed well enough, but many, many of our mates did not fair so well. But we are secured to the dock now and disembark to an immediate tour of Fort Jefferson, which basically encircles almost the whole of Garden Key.
Fort Jefferson was built in the mid 19th century to protect the shipping channels of the Gulf of Mexico, however, construction was halted in the later 1800s because of advancements in weaponry; a brick wall, no matter how fortified, will not withstand repeated batterings from high-power cannons.
The fort looks pretty complete, and it did serve as a prison. Dr. Samuel Mudd is the most notorious prisoner to serve time there. Mudd set the leg of President Lincoln’s assassin, broken when he jumped from the balcony to flee the theatre after issuing the single gun shot. Dr. Mudd denied complicity, but nevertheless was convicted.
From the top of the fort we see the smaller Long Key and Bush Key. The surrounding aqua water, through which we see coral colonies, takes our breath away, it’s so pretty. While we linger over the view, our history lesson continues.
At the height of its population, when the fort served as a prison, Garden Key was home to more than 1000, mostly men, most set up in tents. The military officers had more permanent abodes of stone, some of which still stand on the grounds. At this time scurvy, which is caused by lack of vitamin C, became a problem, and within a relatively short time, the epidemic claimed 80 lives.
To overcome monotony on the key, some men sang and danced, played instruments or acted out plays. During the time of the scurvy outbreak, one of the commanding officers asked these men to perform for pay as a means to end the epidemic. The paying audience consisted of military men mostly. However, even passing ships would stop for a show. The key became the Las Vegas of the Gulf of Mexico, and the performers earned enough money to purchase significant quantities of Key limes from Key West to provide the lifesaving vitamin C the island occupants so needed. Among the 80 lives claimed were those of every one of the island’s nurses. Therefore, an appeal was made to Dr. Mudd, who helped bring the epidemic to its end and thus earned himself a pardon after serving two years.
We really enjoy learning some seemingly obscure American history, and after a lunch of sandwiches, potato salad, chips and cookies on the boat, we walk to the small beach for snorkeling (me) and reading (Mark).
Winds are high, and high winds are not conducive to snorkeling. However, I stay out about an hour, swimming along the fort wall, which, we’re told, offers better opportunities to see sea life. The waters here are crowded—not with fish but with other snorkelers. Orange and burgundy sea plants undulate with the waves, and a couple interesting fish swim among them, but I’ve experienced better snorkeling.
Away from the fort, 30 feet or so off shore, sea grass and dull coral offer hiding spots for dull-colored fish. I follow them, swimming back and forth, because I’m sure not to bump into anybody as I’m the only swimmer out here.
On the beach Mark hands me a towel, and I give him my score of the site for snorkeling: 5 on a scale from 1 to 10. A woman next to us asks if I saw the sting ray. If I had, the score would bump up a point, but, alas, I didn’t.
We leave Garden Key at 2:30 p.m., and the seas are still rough. I don’t know how everyone fares because I curl up and nap the two and a half hours back to Key West, ultimately glad that we had a chance to visit another of our nation’s treasured National Parks.
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