Dry Tortugas — Florida, U.S.A. Sometimes, without even inviting them to, places reshape our interests in ways that are both surprising and natural. The Florida Keys are that kind of place for me. It’s where I discovered a love of the sea.
The Fort Jefferson Lighthouse, Dry Tortugas
When I first visited the Keys two years ago, I’d never before made advance plans to watch a sunset — only happened upon them by chance — never read Hemingway, and did not have even a passing interest in water sports. These days, after experiencing Key West’s famous sunset celebration on Mallory Square, I regularly make time to catch the sun rising and setting, and even moonrises over the beach. I’ve visited Hemingway’s former home on Key West’s Whitehead Street and finally read the Sun Also Rises. And after a surprise birthday trip to the Florida Reef off of Key West’s Atlantic coast, snorkeling has become a favorite past time.
Snorkeling is the most unlikely of hobbies for me. I love the beach, but embarrassingly, am a poor swimmer. No, I’m lying: I can’t really swim at all. And, previously, the thought of floating atop the open sea with all manner of marine animals beneath me was enough to give me a heart attack. My experience on the Florida Reef, however, was life-changing. Never had I imagined the ocean floor to be so vibrant, colorful, and inviting. It was like peering into a different universe, one that had been there all along without my knowing, and to my amazement, I wanted more.
“The sea is the same as it has been since before men ever went on it in boats.” -Ernest Hemingway
This weekend, I visited the Florida Keys again, but this time I wanted to check out the Dry Tortugas and what I’d heard to be exceptional snorkeling in crystal clear, shallow, blue water. Just 70 miles west of Key West, the Dry Tortugas are a cluster of small islands named for the large population of sea turtles that live in the surrounding waters (I’ve also read that the islands were named for their resemblance to turtles in the water) and the absence of fresh water. Comprising the Dry Tortugas National Park, they’re also known for gorgeous Fort Jefferson, the largest all-masonry fort in the United States. Getting to the Dry Tortugas required a two-hour ride aboard the Yankee Freedom ferry. The alternative was a 40-minute seaplane ride, which I’ll try next time. Both the ferry and seaplane dock on Garden Key, were the fort is. The approach to the islands is stunning.
The water was more beautiful than I’d imagined, more azure than the photos I’d found online suggested. The fort emerged on the horizon, long and flat, and the anticipation that had built over the previous hours peaked. The clouds that day were perfect — puffy and white, but some large and bluish-gray, threatening rain. It’s the kind of sky I like. The diffused sunlight, played off of the blues and greens in the sea. The water was still and shimmering. I was one of the first off of the boat and opted out of the guided tour of the fort, and instead, explored its nooks and crannies on my own. I love historic structures and am in my element when I am alone with them, camera in hand. When I’d taken in as much of the fort as I could, I donned a flotation vest, grabbed a noodle, and hit the water for snorkeling.
Garden Key has several snorkeling spots and I spent my time along the fort’s moat where small corals grow against the wall and fish are plentiful. Timid at first, I entered the water gradually, adjusting to the temperature, testing the depth and drop-off. I was reassured by the shallowness, the familiarity of solid ground not far below, and urged on by the promise of exploring terrain I’d not seen before. Extending my arms and legs to practice my stroke, I gained enough confidence — in myself and in my flotation devices! — to propel myself toward the moat wall.
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The sensation I feel as a non-swimmer snorkeling is indescribable. It’s like cheating reality, like being able to grasp for a moment what is just beyond reach and feeling like if you hold onto it hard enough it will be yours. It makes me wonder what took me so long to discover the sea and confirms that I need to learn how to swim already.