It's behind Turtle Kraals, the dinghy dock that serves the anchor-outs living on the hook off Fleming Key and around Christmas Tree Island (named for the Australian pines that flourished there), known to chart makers as Wisteria Island (named for a ship that foundered there years ago).
The one big issue that faces people who travel on boats is where to park their dinghies when they put down their anchors and want to go ashore. For those with money one of the attractions of stopping off in marinas is the ability to tie up to the dock and simply step off the boat. For those who don't want to spend, typically between $30 and $100 a night (for a typical 30-40 foot liveaboard boat), but a night at anchor is splendid. It's self sufficient, it's got more privacy, better scenery and it's FREE! Then there is the problem of how to get ashore if you want to go shopping or see the town or buy spare parts. 
Things are always breaking on cruising boats and finding parts is a constant issue. So it is that towns that have boating populations frequently offer dinghy docks. Key West has two official such docks, one at Garrison Bight and this one, more downtown behind Turtle Kraals restaurant and bar ($6 a night or $80 a month, no dinghies over 12 feet in length, trash, showers and water included).
I wander along the waterfront from time to time and I watch the comings and goings of the water rats, many of them youngsters, some of them retirees and a very few in between, and I can't say I envy them, though I remember my previous life fondly.
I still have opinions about which dinghies make the best vehicles to get ashore, and they fall into two main camps. The inflatable dinghy made of hypalon or some such material:
Difficult to tip, easier to stow sometimes, surprisingly tough, though difficult to row. Or there is the hard dinghy camp which I think frequently ends up being the choice of the boater who lives firmly in one spot and rarely moves the "mother ship." Not generally what I call a "sailor" but more of a a liveaboard:
One of the observations I have made over many years of living aboard and cruising is that a person's mobility is in inverse proportion to the size of the dinghy. If you see a small sailboat with a large well equipped hard dinghy hanging off the stern you can bet they haven't pulled up the anchor in a long while. There is a form of snobbery among boaters about these things and people are always being judgemental about each other in the way humans tend to be. My wife and I belonged in the inflatable dinghy camp and on our Gemini catamaran we had what we considered an excellent solution for transporting our dinghy:
Some sailors think hanging the dinghy off the back of the boat in davits is dangerous at sea, but like I said everyone in the world of boating is a critic. This picture was taken while cruising the north coast of Cuba and we had hauled the dinghy from Santa Cruz California, off the back of our Gemini 105 without a problem. Some people with large boats have large dinghies. I remember being anchored in San Juan Del Sur in Nicaragua when a very large "gin palace" was visiting the town and we felt like peasants when the crew of the big motor boat stepped off a dinghy two thirds the size of our 34 foot (11 meter) catamaran. They had a steering console on their dinghy, but that's a rare feature for we the little people. I found on at the dinghy dock on a regular sized dinghy:
Living on a boat at anchor appears glamorous to land lubbers a lot of the time, but when you look closer it takes effort and energy and organization to do it well. You don't want to forget anything on your shopping list because in that case you do without. 
And you may be anchored half an hour from the dinghy dock across cold choppy waters...On an afternoon when skies are gray and the temperature has dropped to 70 degrees (20C) you might miss the comfort of a commute by car: 
And while we are pointing out the most romantic parts of living at anchor let's not forget "dinghy
butt" which is the experience of getting your backside soaked while traveling to or from your boat. Going to the boat isn't so bad as you have (I hope) clean dry clothes on board. All you have to do is strip, rinse and hang your underwear on the lifelines right between you and the sunset you wanted to admire. Coming to town "dinghy butt" is a whole other world of hurt. Imagine walking all day, shopping, going to the movies, sitting on a bar stool, or even standing at work for eight hours, with a salt water rotted crotch. Yes, you can pump out your dinghy all you want but that one small, mild mannered wavelet will leap up three minutes from safety and dump salt water all across your nether regions.
Then there is the problem of dinghy motors. Hardly anyone rows any more, and even though some still do almost all anchor outs rely on small, two and increasingly, four stroke motors. Which don't always start when they haven't been cared for properly:
See, there I go being critical. Actually she sounded a little miffed too when she hissed: "Just get it started!" he was commendably restrained just pulling the rope in silence until finally he was rewarded with a grudging, choking cough. I'll tell you what though, if he doesn't get it sorted and reliable he will be single handing soon enough. This guy appeared to be single handing already and he was working on a recalcitrant old British Seagull, the original two stroke outboard motor developed in World War Two. And notoriously unreliable:
Actually they are very dependable if serviced regularly and treated with the care a small engine deserves in a harsh environment. If they won't start they are horrid, as the starter rope has to be wound round the flywheel for each try:
He too suffered in silence, pulling away and guiding his dinghy with his paddle between pulls:
He was smart, though, or experienced because he carried alternative propulsion with him, even it was just a paddle. A dead motor is crippling especially in Key West harbor waters which have fierce currents and lots of assorted traffic. Eventually he buzzed off as can be seen further up this essay. There are rules about what you have to carry including lights, fixed in this case though an all-round white flashlight will do if your dinghy is slow, less than seven miles per hour (12km/h):
You need life jackets and flares to be legal and registration if your boat has a motor in Florida. And if you don't you can expect to get stopped by the Marine Patrol, known these days as Florida Fish and Wildlife and get fined if you aren't in compliance. Occasionally Key West PD gets in on the act too, and because Key West is, effectively, a border town the feds are here in force, every letter of the alphabet soup, DEA, FBI, JIATF, and no doubt CIA though I'm sure they couldn't care less if your dinghy has lights or valid registration. Naturally anchor outs fancy themselves rebels so they make a point, many of them ,of flouting this or that. I always preferred to fly under the radar and not draw attention to myself. Which is why I still have factory mufflers on my motorcycle. I am a milquetoast rebel.
The one big issue that faces people who travel on boats is where to park their dinghies when they put down their anchors and want to go ashore. For those with money one of the attractions of stopping off in marinas is the ability to tie up to the dock and simply step off the boat. For those who don't want to spend, typically between $30 and $100 a night (for a typical 30-40 foot liveaboard boat), but a night at anchor is splendid. It's self sufficient, it's got more privacy, better scenery and it's FREE! Then there is the problem of how to get ashore if you want to go shopping or see the town or buy spare parts. Things are always breaking on cruising boats and finding parts is a constant issue. So it is that towns that have boating populations frequently offer dinghy docks. Key West has two official such docks, one at Garrison Bight and this one, more downtown behind Turtle Kraals restaurant and bar ($6 a night or $80 a month, no dinghies over 12 feet in length, trash, showers and water included).I wander along the waterfront from time to time and I watch the comings and goings of the water rats, many of them youngsters, some of them retirees and a very few in between, and I can't say I envy them, though I remember my previous life fondly. I still have opinions about which dinghies make the best vehicles to get ashore, and they fall into two main camps. The inflatable dinghy made of hypalon or some such material:Difficult to tip, easier to stow sometimes, surprisingly tough, though difficult to row. Or there is the hard dinghy camp which I think frequently ends up being the choice of the boater who lives firmly in one spot and rarely moves the "mother ship." Not generally what I call a "sailor" but more of a a liveaboard:One of the observations I have made over many years of living aboard and cruising is that a person's mobility is in inverse proportion to the size of the dinghy. If you see a small sailboat with a large well equipped hard dinghy hanging off the stern you can bet they haven't pulled up the anchor in a long while. There is a form of snobbery among boaters about these things and people are always being judgemental about each other in the way humans tend to be. My wife and I belonged in the inflatable dinghy camp and on our Gemini catamaran we had what we considered an excellent solution for transporting our dinghy:Some sailors think hanging the dinghy off the back of the boat in davits is dangerous at sea, but like I said everyone in the world of boating is a critic. This picture was taken while cruising the north coast of Cuba and we had hauled the dinghy from Santa Cruz California, off the back of our Gemini 105 without a problem. Some people with large boats have large dinghies. I remember being anchored in San Juan Del Sur in Nicaragua when a very large "gin palace" was visiting the town and we felt like peasants when the crew of the big motor boat stepped off a dinghy two thirds the size of our 34 foot (11 meter) catamaran. They had a steering console on their dinghy, but that's a rare feature for we the little people. I found on at the dinghy dock on a regular sized dinghy:Living on a boat at anchor appears glamorous to land lubbers a lot of the time, but when you look closer it takes effort and energy and organization to do it well. You don't want to forget anything on your shopping list because in that case you do without. And you may be anchored half an hour from the dinghy dock across cold choppy waters...On an afternoon when skies are gray and the temperature has dropped to 70 degrees (20C) you might miss the comfort of a commute by car: And while we are pointing out the most romantic parts of living at anchor let's not forget "dinghybutt" which is the experience of getting your backside soaked while traveling to or from your boat. Going to the boat isn't so bad as you have (I hope) clean dry clothes on board. All you have to do is strip, rinse and hang your underwear on the lifelines right between you and the sunset you wanted to admire. Coming to town "dinghy butt" is a whole other world of hurt. Imagine walking all day, shopping, going to the movies, sitting on a bar stool, or even standing at work for eight hours, with a salt water rotted crotch. Yes, you can pump out your dinghy all you want but that one small, mild mannered wavelet will leap up three minutes from safety and dump salt water all across your nether regions.
Then there is the problem of dinghy motors. Hardly anyone rows any more, and even though some still do almost all anchor outs rely on small, two and increasingly, four stroke motors. Which don't always start when they haven't been cared for properly:See, there I go being critical. Actually she sounded a little miffed too when she hissed: "Just get it started!" he was commendably restrained just pulling the rope in silence until finally he was rewarded with a grudging, choking cough. I'll tell you what though, if he doesn't get it sorted and reliable he will be single handing soon enough. This guy appeared to be single handing already and he was working on a recalcitrant old British Seagull, the original two stroke outboard motor developed in World War Two. And notoriously unreliable:Actually they are very dependable if serviced regularly and treated with the care a small engine deserves in a harsh environment. If they won't start they are horrid, as the starter rope has to be wound round the flywheel for each try:He too suffered in silence, pulling away and guiding his dinghy with his paddle between pulls:He was smart, though, or experienced because he carried alternative propulsion with him, even it was just a paddle. A dead motor is crippling especially in Key West harbor waters which have fierce currents and lots of assorted traffic. Eventually he buzzed off as can be seen further up this essay. There are rules about what you have to carry including lights, fixed in this case though an all-round white flashlight will do if your dinghy is slow, less than seven miles per hour (12km/h):You need life jackets and flares to be legal and registration if your boat has a motor in Florida. And if you don't you can expect to get stopped by the Marine Patrol, known these days as Florida Fish and Wildlife and get fined if you aren't in compliance. Occasionally Key West PD gets in on the act too, and because Key West is, effectively, a border town the feds are here in force, every letter of the alphabet soup, DEA, FBI, JIATF, and no doubt CIA though I'm sure they couldn't care less if your dinghy has lights or valid registration. Naturally anchor outs fancy themselves rebels so they make a point, many of them ,of flouting this or that. I always preferred to fly under the radar and not draw attention to myself. Which is why I still have factory mufflers on my motorcycle. I am a milquetoast rebel. .
Once you get used to the idea that many working people live on boats you can get to recognize them by certain signs they give off. Live aboard boats need electricity so some have wind generators like this:
Others have solar panels like this, in Gun Cay, Bahamas, though they work fine in a marina too:
Bicycles work well for people who live at or near the docks and boaters tend to prefer small wheeled fold up bicycles thinking they are easier to carry in the dinghy:
Which they are but they are never easy to get back on the boat. Plus they are cumbersome to store in most boats and end up living on deck and rotting away...that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it! Liveaboards are identifiable too, certain clothing choices, a certain swagger perhaps because they think they live a cool "lifestyle" which I suppose they do:
"Be safe!" she called out as though the dinghy ride to the boat is less safe than a roadway commute, a touch of the high seas adventure for people who's boating tends to be limited to the harbor waters. That became the problem for me. Living on the boat and working a job turned the boat into a parked vehicle, too cluttered to sail, too tired to clean up and take off. Now I live in my house I go out on my little boat far more than I ever did when I lived aboard, even in a marina, and held down a job. For youngsters and would-be adventurers the big back pack, the small boat and the envious stares of the land lubbers make it all worthwhile:
For those seeking photographs and commentary on the life truly cruising I recommend the Log Of Whisper in my blog list, a Caribbean cruise sadly drawing to a close, recorded by a young couple with lots of pictures and stories to tell of the high side of getting out there and breaking loose the anchor. The best reason, in this opinionated land lubber's mind, for bothering to deal with dinghy butt.
Others have solar panels like this, in Gun Cay, Bahamas, though they work fine in a marina too:Bicycles work well for people who live at or near the docks and boaters tend to prefer small wheeled fold up bicycles thinking they are easier to carry in the dinghy:Which they are but they are never easy to get back on the boat. Plus they are cumbersome to store in most boats and end up living on deck and rotting away...that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it! Liveaboards are identifiable too, certain clothing choices, a certain swagger perhaps because they think they live a cool "lifestyle" which I suppose they do:"Be safe!" she called out as though the dinghy ride to the boat is less safe than a roadway commute, a touch of the high seas adventure for people who's boating tends to be limited to the harbor waters. That became the problem for me. Living on the boat and working a job turned the boat into a parked vehicle, too cluttered to sail, too tired to clean up and take off. Now I live in my house I go out on my little boat far more than I ever did when I lived aboard, even in a marina, and held down a job. For youngsters and would-be adventurers the big back pack, the small boat and the envious stares of the land lubbers make it all worthwhile:For those seeking photographs and commentary on the life truly cruising I recommend the Log Of Whisper in my blog list, a Caribbean cruise sadly drawing to a close, recorded by a young couple with lots of pictures and stories to tell of the high side of getting out there and breaking loose the anchor. The best reason, in this opinionated land lubber's mind, for bothering to deal with dinghy butt.
I have previously mentioned that in years past the city commission pondered the requests of neighbors asking that the southernmost point be moved to relieve them of the constant press of tourists. Geography is a flexible concept in the southernmost city, but for the moment the point continues to reside at the corner of South and Whitehead Streets. This is a small slice of Whitehead at 2:30am.
I find that photographing the most mundane thing in Key West at some ungodly hour of the night has the capacity to make everything appear far more exotic. The picture above resembles somewhere far away in my mind's eye, the Morocco perhaps of my youth, and it's just a scooter on Whitehead. 
For the price of a drink the guest house allowed locals to sit by the pool at the magnificent pile, but after the city commission denied them a permit to expand their operation the family sniffed in great vexation, swept up their toys and decided that no more would they allow hoi polloi by the pool. The stand off continues, and if you think petty nonsense has no place in paradise you'd be dead wrong. Either that or Key West isn't really paradise which is a thought no serious tourism agency would countenance. There is another fine structure across the street , the southernmost something else that I can't remember:
And if you park your Triumph Bonneville in the middle of Duval Street between these two structures and point your gorillapod-mounted camera due north this is what you see:
Duval Street sans people. Just how I like it.
The city's administrative offices on Angela Street got Wilma'd in 2005 and they have been rather unpleasant and moldy ever since. So the city is looking around and considering building new offices somewhere. Which is a pricey proposition at a time when even our leaders have noticed a bit of a problem with the economy. They had thought about buying the Gato Building on Simonton Street from the County for a nominal sum, but calmer heads prevailed and a more ambitious building plan is still under consideration at far greater public expense. The Gato Building named for it's 19th century builder, was created as a cigar factory, and it has a rather more refined air than one might expect for administrative offices:
The fact that it has parking attached and actually looks like a dignified setting for a municipal nerve center probably constitutes a second strike against it ever becoming Key West's offices. Across the street there is more open space available. A 1200 square foot (110 square meter) junque yard:
Pitch a tent and there you are, another variation on the not-quite-affordable housing problem in the city. I was running out of time, as seems to always be the case with my meandering lunch breaks, yet there was time enough left for the cup that refreshes:.jpg)
A cafe con leche, known to some sceptics as a "liquid candy bar" but they are bitter people who like their coffee bitter too. A little sweetener, a moment to sit and think of nothing at all at White Street's 24 hour cafe, Sandy's, the other landmark: .jpg)
And from there back to work, for a few more hours till dawn.
Snowbirds like to use their boats during the winter because, poor things, they know no better but the waters are cold, 70 degrees or so (19C) and winter winds ruffle the waters all the time. Far better to haul your boat and devote your time to riding a motorcycle, boating is for the summer months.
The hassle is getting the boat ready, and because I leave my 14 foot Dusky in the water all summer long I paint the bottom with anti fouling which requires sanding first, a foul job, and then painting which is almost as bad. Bottom paint is monstrous expensive as it contains copper but I got a couple of tins at sixty percent off this year. It was red which is a bit bright for my taste, but needs must and I slowly covered last year's black leftovers:
Luckily I won't be seeing this view too much this summer except when I'm swimming and then I shall cheer myself up by remembering the deal I got on the red bottom paint...
The other rite of spring is changing all the little fiddly bits that make the engine go. I skipped the impeller this year but I may do that later. I did clean the starter which was giving me fits last fall, and I spent a happy hour trying to get the brushes back the way they came out without losing any springs or breaking any wire connections. 
Eventually it went together and so far the electric starter seems to be working...for now. Luckily my experience with boats is such that I like to go small and simple where possible and three years ago I bought a 25 horsepower Yamaha with a built in pull start so my back up is ready to use any time electrons let me down. And they will, believe me, around salt water electricity goes walkabout all the time. I put my tools away, cleaned up the clean up:
And towed the trailer down to the community launch ramp at the end of the street. That's quite the round trip when I'm on my own. It's a bit like ferrying the wolf the lamb and the cabbage across the river. First I tow the boat to the ramp. I leave the car in the lot after the boat is the water. Then I drive the boat down the canal to my dock. I get my bicycle and ride back to the launch ramp. Then I secure the bike to the boat trailer and drive back to my house. Then I park the empty trailer:
I give it a fresh water rinse, park it for the summer and rejoice in the knowledge that my boat should be ready to give me six months uninterrupted service:
The only problem is that spring has sprung in Florida and that means honking winds are sweeping the islands, as they do until calm and thunderstorms come with the advent of summer. So I have yet to take the boat out into Newfound Harbor for my first swim of 2009. Call me fussy (and I'm sure the winter visitors would) but I hate swimming in rough water. It's not easy coping with Florida's seasons, but we struggle on.
The park is open technically from 7am to sunset, and people come and go all the time, by car, looking for a quiet place to park:
Some people bring their animals to the dog park:
Others walk their dogs around the main body of the park:
The dog park was built using private money (sixteen thousand smackers worth as I recall. Oh happy, wealthy days!) a few years ago and it caused a cloud of controversy. Change always does. I wasn't too fond of the idea of breaking up the park into component pieces but I've come to terms with all the fencing. The dog park itself isn't necessarily a place where huge amounts of exercise take place, other than tail and jaw wagging:
The dog area is fenced off into two separate spaces, for big dogs and small and they have facilities too for drinking (dogs) and sitting (people):
Outside the dog area is a sprawling stretch of grass dotted with some organized activities behind their own fences. Astro City is a kid's playground, a sand box where adults are not allowed unless accompanied by a child:
Remember this is the town where there is nothing for children to do...and, they say, not much for adults either! You hear that all the time...They could be out practicing their tennis strokes at the nearby tennis courts, bocce at the bocce ("bocci" in Italian-American) courts across the street, or even if they are alone they can bounce a tennis ball off the practice court here at Higgs Park behind it's own safety fencing:
Some people come to walk or run the paved roadway around the edge of the park:
Students come to find a quiet spot to do some studying in the sun:
Higgs Beach has made a bit of a name for itself as the place where "local subjects" come to hang out. With the whole country (planet) going through grim economic times it's not very nice to pick on homeless people but in Key West there is a certain population of vagrant types who better fit the description of hobos- traveling homeless people who hang out in public places and enjoy the amenities provided by the county and city - soup kitchens, free sleeping areas and so forth. Enough of these travelers have taken over the picnic tables at the beach that the county, in whose jurisdiction the park lies, has stationed a Sheriff's Deputy to keep order. There has been a pretty much permanent winter encampment at this table in the park since I can remember:
But as I wandered the park one recent afternoon before work I saw lots of empty picnic tables available for anyone to use across the park:
One step up the social ladder, if you can call it that, are the winter visitors who enjoy living out of their vehicles and they too spend daylight hours parked around Higgs Beach:
Others park their cars while they..walk their dogs... 
...some buggers park their motorcycles under the palm trees, imagine that!
...while some mobile snowbirds get onto the whole camping out in winter ethic:
Every time I mention coconut palms Scooter in the Sticks marvels which makes me rather self conscious about these non native trees. But their hairy fruit is available all over the place for those that want fresh coconut:
The mature trees around my house are producing massive great clumps of nuts too, so pretty soon I'll be drinking more coconut milk than I can decently manage. Monroe County has left over coconut chippings apparently:
I'm thinking about hitching up the trailer to the Nissan, not the Bonneville, and picking some up for myself. Higgs Park is also where the county keeps their maintenance fleet. In some places large wheeled vehicles like these are a common sight. But as there's no agriculture in the Keys tractors are mostly used for stuff like beach clean up, not ploughing fields. In front of the tractors you'll see the horse shoe courts for people to use, unless they get the idea there's nothing to do in Key West:
There's a back entrance to Higgs Park from Casa Marina Court which is open 24 hours- not wide enough to get a car through after they lock the main gate on White Street at 7 pm, but big enough for a scooter or even a Bonneville with some care and no saddlebags:
Making my way back to the parked Triumph I passed the bird sanctuary, which is a pond in summer when it rains, and a muddy depression in winter when it doesn't:
And then in the middle of the park is one final fence surrounding a shed and an antenna which is some sort of beacon for the airport or something. It seems a bit old fashioned in the age of GPS but I have no clue about these things:
I guess the Feds get a bit snippy of you mess with their beacons, as would I if you were to do the same to the Bonneville. It was untouched when I returned after my circuit around the park:
Looking good I thought.