An oddball in the lineup of national parks, Dry Tortugas protects two tiny islands and the water around them in the Gulf of Mexico, 70 miles west of Key West, Florida. The primary attraction is Fort Jefferson, a huge old masonry fort built on Garden Key in the mid 1800s to help defend the gulf and the important US cities on its coast. The fort was never totally completed, but was operational into the late 1800s, including as a prison for Union deserters in the Civil War, when it was turned into a quarantine station. It was then turned over to the National Park Service. Another island with a historic lighthouse is also part of the park, and while we did see that from a distance, it was not part of this visit. Key West, Florida is the farthest you can go by car, down the famously lovely US Highway 1 across the Florida Keys. However, the park is 70 miles further into the gulf and only reachable by boat or seaplane. The way most people reach the Dry Tortugas is the Yankee Freedom:
A ticket on the Yankee Freedom gets you breakfast and lunch as well as a ride out and back to the park and a short guided tour of Fort Jefferson. You have several hours to explore the fort and the island. (I should add that there is very little of the island that is not inside the fort.) By far the greatest adventure of this trip was the ride. The Yankee Freedom is fast, and covers the distance in a little over two hours. Normally, it is a smooth ride. However, on this particular day, they warned us that the sea was rough, with four to six foot waves. Those of us who got motion sick, they said, would do well to sit on the back deck watching the horizon during the later part of our trip when the waves would be significant. I AM one of those people who is very prone to motion sickness. And while I worked for Carnival for several months and got used to the gentle rolling of the cruise liner, that was a 55,000 ton ship and didn't move that much. This would be different. I almost decided not to go, but when am I going to be in the keys again? I took some motion sickness medicine (Bonine works best for me, as I found out aboard the cruise liner, and may be a good over the counter alternative to Dramamine for you if you get motion sick) and bravely stepped aboard. And before you snort that it doesn't take bravery to get on a ship, traveling by boat or plane is not easy for me. I'm prone to panic attacks if the motion gets bad, and if you've had one, you know facing them is something you'll do almost anything to avoid. I had already gone through the nerve-wracking process of getting through the flight to Miami, and would have to do it again on the way back. Facing that twice during a trip is tough enough, but I had to face it three times on this trip. The beginning of the trip was lovely as we watched Key West recede and watched other smaller islands drift by. The water was quite smooth at the start and, as promised, gradually got rougher. I went to sit on the back deck, walking with difficulty across the already rolling deck. Soon, the waves were tumbling all about, every bit as tall as advertised (four to six feet!) and the boat, screaming along at over 30 miles an hour, was tossing about every which way. I would have loved to get some pictures off the back of the boat, but I was concentrating on staring at the horizon and holding onto barf bags so I didn't mess up the deck. I went through a few. The ship pitched forward and back and side to side unpredictably. Hatches in the deck were flying open and shut, clanging loudly. Spray drizzled on me from both sides of the vessel. The day was quite chilly and getting wet didn't help. The crew of the Yankee Freedom were wonderful. A gentleman who I believe was the first officer (Rick, I think?) kept coming around to check on the five or so of us seasick people on the back deck, bringing us water and barf bags, and keeping us as comfortable as possible by bringing towels to wrap up in for warmth. He was very encouraging, letting me know how long we had until we reached the calmer waters near the park. After an unpleasant hour, the sea at last calmed down as we neared Garden Key and Fort Jefferson:
Look how placid that sea looks! Trust me, it did NOT look like that ten minutes prior. But since the boat was no longer pitching about, I was able to get back up and walk about. Even Ginger, normally not that susceptible to motion sickness, had trouble. Here is Fort Jefferson's impressive entrance:
The fort has a moat, and you are looking across a bridge over that moat. Fort Jefferson is roughly hexagon-shaped, more or less built to fill up the little island on which it sits. Inside the fort is a nice green space:
Fort Jefferson is mostly open to exploration. It's a huge, creepy old structure. At one point (and possibly still) it was the largest masonry structure in the western hemisphere. This was in one of the walls of the fort. I am not sure what it is. It looks like a place to store wine, but I suppose ammo is more likely.
A neat view of the moat and lovely blue ocean out of a window in the middle level of the fort. Could some Union deserter, imprisoned here, have been treated with this same view?
Old ruined foundations of soldiers' barracks litter the fort's grounds:
The inner passages of the fort are eerie, bleak, and foreboding. I think it would be fun to explore them at night with a flashlight:
Ginger, exploring Fort Jefferson's endless arches and passageways:
There are three levels to the fort, and the top one is outside along the top of the fort's towering brick walls. Here, a cannon still stands:
And here is the fort's historic lighthouse, rising from the top of the walls and ominously painted black:
As you can see from the scaffolding, they were working on the lighthouse when we were there. A nice view out over the ocean from the top of the fort:
After exploring the inside of the fort, we poked around the outside. Some plants are growing in the white sand of the beach:
A lovely purple sea plant has washed up:
A view of the fort from outside across the moat, with our ride the Yankee Freedom in the background:
I was hoping to snorkel in the Dry Tortugas, because there is quite a bit of great snorkeling in the waters around Fort Jefferson. That plan was scrapped, though, because the day was unpleasantly chilly and windy. Even in a fleece pullover, I couldn't get warm. Strange for the Florida Keys in March, yes, but that is how it was, so snorkeling didn't seem like a good idea on this trip. Here Ginger is traversing the seawall that separates the moat from the ocean.
And I am doing the same thing, in this picture which is much clearer because she took it. This really gives you a sense of how far out in the ocean we are!
We returned to the ship to eat lunch, which actually made me feel quite a bit better. I have always found that having food in my stomach makes motion sickness more tolerable. You'd think it'd be the other way around, but not for me. When I worked for Carnival and we had rough seas, I would grab boxes of cereal and just slowly, constantly munch, and it actually helped quite a bit. After eating, we were ready to head back and, knowing the roughest waters were going to be at the start of this trip, I grimly took up my seat on the back deck. Rick kindly brought me a cooler to sit on so I wouldn't have to crouch on the deck itself. A photo taken off the back deck as we pulled away:
The ride back was nearly as rough as the ride out, but with a little food in my stomach and perhaps becoming accustomed to the boat's motion, I managed to make it back without going through any more seasick bags. I still felt pretty lousy, and was quite glad when, after an hour or so, the water gradually calmed down as we neared Key West. Dry Tortugas is a neat place to visit, and please don't let my description of the ride out scare you off! It is rare that the sea is as wild as it was that day. In fact, a man we chatted with on the trip who took that ferry day after day for work said he had never been through seas that rough on that trip. So, your experience will probably not be like mine!