Castaway Dream

When I see Fort Jefferson appearing on the horizon in the bright midday sunlight I’m so astonished by its grandiose looks and massive size I am speechless.

It took us 26 hours of motor sailing into the wind to get to the Dry Tortugas, the uninhabited islands 70 miles West of Key West, but the sight of the red brick giant in front of me is definitely worth the long trip.

The hexagonal fort, built with more than 16 million red bricks, would be amazing enough if it were located in a construction-friendly area in the continental Unites States. What makes Fort Jefferson even more astonishing is the fact that it was built on an island 68 miles away from civilization on an archipelago that offers no fresh water. Why did they bother, you might ask. Piracy in the early 1800s became such a problem the U.S. Navy decided to build a naval station to patrol the ocean waters. After years of inspections, mixed reviews and some good, old-fashioned bureaucratic slowness, the building of Fort Jefferson began in 1846. Officially the fort was never finished, but from the 1860s to the 1930s it served as a military camp, a prison and a quarantine station.

One of the first signs I see as I start exploring the fort reads, “This was not a happy place”. It might have been true back in the day when the fort was packed with prisoners and almost constantly plagued by yellow fever epidemics, but nowadays Fort Jefferson is swarmed by –excuse my pun- happy campers. Families, adventurous couples and fishing aficionados set their tents right outside the walls of the fort and spend the day doing all those things that make a vacation memorable: they grill, the nap, they swim, they nap some more, they explore the island, and the next day they do it all over again. It’s the quintessential relaxing vacation: with no cellular phone coverage and no cable nor satellite, kids play in the surf and adults quietly read books in the sun.

The dark coolness inside the fort is a welcome change from the blinding morning light and the heat, and I linger around the old cannons and the prison quarters a little longer before climbing the stairs to the top of the walls. To think that people actually lived inside this fort is mindboggling. Even more astounding is the number of people who died here, killed by yellow fever and hurricanes.

“Even the doctor died,” says a park ranger, pointing at the memorial sculpture in the middle of the courtyard. “Thank God Dr. Samuel Mudd was prisoner here. He saved a lot of lives.” I guess that when your men are plagued by yellow fever you turn a blind eye to the fact that Dr. Mudd was incarcerated for conspiring in the assassination of President Lincoln.

I climb to the top of the walls and slowly make my way to one of the towers, basking once again in the sunshine. As I’m enjoying the view–the clear blue water shimmering in the sun below me- it’s easy to forget about the real world and start day dreaming about a castaway life a la Robinson Crusoe. A sudden burst of laughter and chit chat below me, however, brings me back to reality: it seems like I won’t be enjoying any more peace and quiet for a few hours. The tourists are here.

“Look, Mom, this toilet has no water in it!” Screams a boy of eight or so, absolutely smitten by his discovery. The waterless toilet facilities are yet another reminder that the Dry Tortugas are constantly trying to save water, especially the fresh kind. The boy’s father dutifully immortalizes the wonder-toilet with his camcoder before returning his attention to the fort. Sad but true, the toilet seems to excite kids much more than the rugged, 200-year-old walls and dramatic views of the water from the towers.

Every morning around 11, a catamaran drops off hordes of day-trippers coming from Key West and for a few hours the fort and the beach are packed with swimmers, snorkelers, bird watchers and amateur photographers. At $150 a head roundtrip, the Yankee Freedom catamaran is one of the most popular ways to reach the Tortugas and Fort Jefferson. Starting at $230 per person, a seaplane ride is a slightly pricier –but also very popular- option. As I lazily descend from the tower to the beach an almost constant flow of bright yellow planes land in the blue waters in front of the fort delivering more excited tourist on the island.

After a relaxing picnic in the shade and a catnap, I’m ready to explore the island some more. Armed with my water resistant digital camera, fins, mask and snorkel I dive in the crystal clear water in search of some local fauna. Around the pilings in front of the fort entrance a rich marine life unfolds before my eyes: ugly barracudas, elegant stingrays and even a couple of dolphins swim around me undisturbed.

When the catamaran takes the tourists back to their busy weekend of drinking and partying in Key West, I take advantage of the renewed peace and quiet and set sail in a little sea kayak to explore the island some more. It’s five in the afternoon and after circumnavigating the perimeter of the fort I pull the kayak on the beach and lazily watch sunset sitting in the surf. All I can hear is the remote screeching of a flock of birds, the waves gently breaking around me and the far-away sound of a boat stereo playing Led Zeppelin.

As I slowly row back to the sailboat, the sky is painted a beautiful hue of orange and yellow and I can smell our seafood dinner cooking on the grill. We’re only staying anchored here for two nights, but something tells me that I could get used to this life.

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