Breathtaking Biscayne National Park

My visit to Biscayne (pronounced: Ba-skane) National Park will forever live in my memory as not only one of the most extraordinary days of my time on the road, but also one of the worst.

Biscayne National Park is unique from all other National Parks due to the fact that it is 95% water. Because of this, the only way to truly explore it is on a boat. As a treat to myself, I splurged, taking a day off work to spend a full day on the water.

The day started out off. I had apparently not paid attention to the launching spot when booking. Instead of needing to make it to the Visitor Center (located in a quiet area near Key Largo, that had a large parking lot for my massive vehicle and only 30 minutes from where I was staying for the night), I discovered I needed to drive into south Miami to a location with a questionable parking situation.

Already stressed by all the uncertainty (after thinking I had the perfect plan), the two plus hour drive in stop and go rush hour traffic (in south Florida traffic, which even on a good day is a stressful experience) frayed my nerves.

I’d given myself plenty of time to get there and find parking. I figured, even if the lot by the marina wouldn’t work, there seemed to be several other lots nearby that I could safely use.

Such big dreams . . .

I’ll cut to the chase (no point in you suffering the anxiety I did as I went in and out of several lots that explicitly said I would be towed) – I was completely wrong. As I sat in my idling rig, with only 30 minutes before my trip was supposed to leave (I was supposed to get to the boat 15 minutes before depature), a cop pulled into the lot. I quickly turned on my hazards and rushed to get his attention. My stress and blood pressure rising, I asked if he had any idea where I could park my RV nearby. He was so kind I almost started crying, and I then almost kissed him when he said there was a Home Depot less than a mile away in which I probably could park.

The clock was ticking down to departure time as I navigated my way to Home Depot and then rushed inside to seek permission from the manager to park there. As I stood waiting for him, the clock showed that I was not going to make the meeting time. Desperately, I called the tour company’s main line, hoping to get a message to the captain that I was on my way, so they wouldn’t leave without me.

With permission from the manager granted (I think I would have started sobbing if he had said no, and that was most likely obvious to the poor man), I finally got ahold of someone connected to my tour. Between practically running down the street and barely holding back anxious sobs, I explained to the lady my situation. She was so nice that I think it made me even more emotional: “breathe sweetie,” she said, “you’re the only person booked on this tour, the captain won’t leave without you.” I was a sweaty, anxious, emotional mess by the time I arrived back at the marina, exactly on time (for departure, my German clock was telling me I was a good 20 minutes late, probably should talk to a therapist about).

In general, I’m not an overly emotional person. When the rubber meets the road, usually, I put my head down and get the job done. I’d describe myself as having “grit” (I was able to joke with the ER staff after getting run over by a car, so I’ve had ample opportunity to test this belief). But, for whatever reason, this combination of events triggered all my issues and I will admit that I don’t think I’ve been that close to a complete breakdown in my entire life for something not life and death (see: run over by a car for a logical event to cause a breakdown – which it did eventually, as I’m not a robot, just German).

The captain was a lovely lady whose calm response to me as I arrived with probably a little (or a lot) of crazy written all over me, helped me take a few deep breaths so I could settle down.

In all that insanity, do you recall what the tour lady said? I was the only person on my six hour tour! What!?! And, since I was the only person (a private boat tour, what!?!) she asked what I wanted to do. My response (and the only logical one, in my mind): what do you think are the best things to do?

And so began a magical day on the water. We flew across the choppy waters in our outboard bay boat (I looked that name up, so I might be completely wrong. Let me live in my false sense of accomplishment for figuring that out if I’m off base). As we bounced away from Miami, the cold, salty water spraying our faces. Once civilization started to slip away, we paused to watch dolphins play and my guide shared the history of the park and how the area was almost destroyed to build a massive industrial and shipping hub. It always amazes me how the actions of a few passionate people can start something that in the end saves an important natural resource.

Our first stop was Boca Chita Key, an island once owned by Mark Honeywell (yes, MN friends, that Honeywell) on which he had wild parties during the 1930s. The most stunning feature on the island is the lighthouse – which he built without permission and upon lighting had the US Navy drop by and take away his light because you can't just build one of those on a reef island, for obvious reasons! I bet that was a pretty crazy day for Honeywell’s guests to have the military show up in the middle of a party! Standing on the lighthouse balcony, the expansive view of the azure blue water took my breath away.

Sadly, strong winds made going to the reef or one of the shipwrecks impossible, but I did enjoy snorkeling in the mangroves. Apparently, I lasted longer in the water then the captain had expected; even in a wetsuit with the water in the 70s and the air in the 60s it was brisk (to put it mildly). But I’m a Minnesotan and a swimmer to my core, so a little cold water never stopped me from enjoying an experience!

After lunching on an island, that we had completely to ourselves, my guide took me to see the Stiltsville houses. At one point there were said to be as many as 12 of these buildings, which stand on stilts (hence the name), within sight of the Miami coast. The history of why these “shacks” were built, and how the community fought to keep them when the area they are in became part of the National Park, is fascinating and filled with bootlegging and civil disobediance. Sadly, only 5 remain intact, plus the skeleton of another that was destroyed by fire in 2021.

My day on the open water soothed my tattered spirit and made the stress of the morning melt away. I have, however, learned to triple check all reservations before booking so I never find myself in a similar situation again.