We woke at 5:00 AM to the unmistakable sound of Key West's most opinionated residents: the roosters. Not just one — an entire chorus. Key West really does have chickens everywhere. Not "some chickens." The island basically is a chicken-based society — early settlers, cockfighting, hurricanes, and town ordinances all conspired, and now the island protects them. Feathered celebrities strutting around like they're running for mayor. And honestly? I kind of love them.
First stop: a little Cuban café. The colada — Cuban espresso so strong it makes regular coffee feel like herbal tea, traditionally shared among friends in thimble-sized cups. We did not share. Our hearts vibrated at frequencies only dogs and roosters can hear. Plus a Cuban bagel with fresh honey. Fueled and caffeinated, we were ready for anything — which was good, because Aimee chose this moment to drop her master plan.
"We're flying to Dry Tortugas National Park… by seaplane." One of the hardest parks in the U.S. to reach — boat or seaplane only, 70 miles west of Key West, out in the glittering Gulf of Mexico. Reservations are notoriously competitive. She booked it six months ago, back in the summer, and kept it secret the whole time. The clever little fox strikes again.
The Flight
We boarded a 10-passenger seaplane. Takeoff was smooth — off the runway like a regular plane. Landing… on the ocean, like it was the most normal thing in the world. From the air, visibility was amazing: shipwrecks beneath the surface, shallow bright turquoise reefs, small uninhabited islands — and sea turtles everywhere. The pilot said it was a good day for spotting them. Even a few flamingos, likely pushed north by recent storms near Jamaica. Then the pilot circled Fort Jefferson, and suddenly this massive hexagonal fortress appeared — a brick giant floating in the middle of the Gulf. No roads, no bridges, no land in sight. Just ocean… then a fort.
For ten days the universe offered only turtles on T-shirts and magnets. The naturalist went unsatisfied across five countries and three reefs. And then — at the literal Islands of the Turtles, the place Ponce de León named for them in 1513 — they appeared, from the air, everywhere, scattered across the turquoise like the universe finally settling a long-overdue debt. We didn't find the turtles. We had to fly 70 miles into the Gulf, and they found us. Manifestation: complete.
Discovered by Ponce de León in 1513 and named "Tortugas" for its many turtles; "Dry" was added later because there's no fresh water. Fort Jefferson is one of the largest masonry structures in the Americas — about 16 million bricks — a Civil War prison site (including Dr. Samuel Mudd), and never finished: too costly, too remote. The water runs 60–100 ft clear, the islands are built from countless generations of marine life, and frigatebirds — the "pterodactyl birds" — wheel overhead.
We had about 2.5 hours to explore: walked the massive ramparts, snorkeled (not as epic as Bonaire, but beautiful), found the earthcaches, and got our National Park passports stamped (mandatory ritual). I made Aimee climb 175-year-old fortress stairs and walk narrow coral-brick walls high above the sea. Her reward: future cocktails. Many. The flight back delivered even more turtles — serious jackpot — plus the island used in the James Bond film Licence to Kill, with Joe Walsh's "Life's Been Good" as the takeoff soundtrack and perfect blue water scrolling beneath us like a living map.
Pool Deck, Yacht Rock & 74° Bliss
Back at H2O Suites: quick showers, then straight to the pool deck and those two happy hours. Free sangrias, soft '70s yacht rock drifting in the warm air — Alan Parsons Project vibes — sun glowing, everything perfect. We revisited the Southernmost Point for better light, then Mile 0 of U.S. Highway 1 (which runs all the way to Fort Kent, Maine — basically from roosters and mojitos to moose and snow). Dinner was a great vegetarian spot, topped with beers from Civil Society Brewing in Jupiter. Now we're on our balcony — two of them — listening to the courtyard fountain and the occasional rooster yelling his truth into the night. This day was history, science, aviation, sea turtles, Cuban espresso, roosters, and pure perfect adventure. One for the books.