“Welcome to the trolley of the doomed,” intoned the veiled woman in elaborate black widow’s weeds.

Despite her misgivings upon meeting the ticket-taker, Kathy prepares to board the "trolley of the doomed." (Photo by Penn Alexander)

Oddly enough, that wasn’t my first clue that our upcoming tour wouldn’t be an ordinary sightseeing expedition. No, my first clue was the dried “blood” adorning the ticket-taker’s face, and his wolfish purple-lipped grin as he ushered us aboard the trolley.

Settling into my seat beside companions Penn, David and Kathy, I uneasily pondered the words on the vehicle’s side: “We’ll drive you to an early grave.”

Admittedly, the excursion was my idea. A fan of “Bones” reruns and other disturbing delights, I yearned to discover the spooky side of Key West on Old Town Trolley’s Ghosts & Gravestones “Frightseeing” Tour.

It was spooky indeed. We traveled past sites ranging from haunted 19th-century homes to saloons with resident specters while our “ghost hostess” recounted their histories — filled with tragedies, murders, burials, curses and other eerie events — in a sepulchural voice.

The trolley carries passengers through the darkening streets of Key West, which bears the lighthearted nickname of "Island of the Bones." (Photo courtesy of Historic Tours of America)

Kathy was particularly unsettled by the tale of Enriquetta Marrero, who loved her house so much that even death couldn’t drive her away.

Enriquetta lived with her husband, cigar baron Francisco Marrero, in a gracious Victorian home now called Marrero’s Guest Mansion. Unfortunately, Francisco also had a wife in Cuba — who, after he died suddenly, inherited the property and threw out Enriquetta and her children.

Enriquetta vowed that, despite the physical eviction, she would remain in spirit. Recent sightings by Marrero’s guests suggest she’s done just that.

As the trolley traveled through the darkening streets, our ghostly guide pointed out a grotto with protective power, related the secret past of a popular bar and, with grisly relish, discussed the dead children haunting a top tourist attraction.

Our black-garbed "ghost hostess" recounted horrible happenings with grisly relish. (Photo courtesy of Historic Tours of America)

We also heard a tale so bizarre that it made Penn shudder — that of Count Carl von Cosel, whose love for a dying Cuban girl in 1930s Key West had a grave-robbing twist. Penn was not happy to discover he shared a birthday with the count’s doomed darling.

(The well-documented von Cosel case spawned a book, “Undying Love,” written by local musician/attorney Ben Harrison. Believe it or not, he also composed a lively musical on the same subject.)

Yet even that saga wasn’t the evening’s weirdest. No, that honor goes to the creepy chronicle of Robert the Doll, and our “meeting” with him in an otherwise deserted Civil War-era fort.

The tale unfolded as we arrived at Fort East Martello Museum, a massive brick structure looming against the night sky.

This devilish-looking century-old doll has become a "paranormal pop star" who mystifies ghost- hunters even today. (Photo by Kathy Koontz)

Robert, whose “home” is a gloomy interior corridor near an authentic hearse, was given to local artist Robert “Gene” Otto, when Gene was a boy in 1904 (some say by a voodoo-practicing nanny or family maid).

Throughout his childhood, Gene blamed the doll for mischievous acts and bad behavior — and Robert remained his alter ego even when Gene grew up.

Naturally, the three-foot-tall straw-stuffed toy gained a reputation for eerie deeds — a reputation that increased exponentially when Robert moved to a secure glass case at the fort, where he’s rumored to ruin visitors’ photographs and cause unexplained events.

Called “a paranormal pop star” by our guide, Robert mystifies ghost-hunters and has appeared on the Travel Channel and Discovery Channel among others. He also starred at a recent paranormal convention, and even has his own very popular blog.

David's grin betrays his uneasiness as he and Kathy bid farewell to Robert. (Photo by Penn Alexander)

And Robert is one devilish-looking doll. His unblinking eyes seem to hold unnatural secrets, and his primitive face appears somehow malevolent. As we circled his glass case, Kathy and I were glad he was safely confined. Even Penn and David seemed pleased to re-board the “trolley of the doomed” for our homeward journey.

As it turns out, the four of us weren’t doomed (or driven to an early grave) after all. But thanks to our spine-tingling tour, we have a whole new perspective on Key West — and the reasons its longtime nickname is “Island of the Bones.”

Topics: Highlights, History, Key West, Local Color, Voices Main Archive

Since Key West’s earliest days, its atmosphere has encouraged rugged individualism — but few individuals stand out more than legendary shipwreck salvor Mel Fisher.

Adventurer Mel Fisher, shown here with some of his glittering discoveries, proved that the American dream is thriving -- at least in the Keys. (Photo provided by Mel Fisher's Treasures)

Mel, a former California chicken farmer, appeared in the Keys in 1968 and shortly afterward settled in Key West. His luggage consisted of one big dream — that of finding the sunken treasure galleon Nuestra Señora de Atocha, shipwrecked in a 1622 hurricane somewhere in Keys waters.

The Atocha’s cargo, according to its manifest, included a quarter of a million silver pieces of eight, some 30 tons of silver bars, and other riches destined for the coffers of Spain. Clearly, it was a worthy prize for any man.

Some people never really fit into Key West’s offbeat lifestyle, but others — like Mel — fit in immediately. With his drawling speech and seemingly limitless capacity for rum and Coke, he became a familiar figure on the island.

During the long years of searching for the shipwrecked galleon, there was little money to support Mel and his crew — which included his wife Deo and, eventually, children Dirk, Taffi, Kim and Kane. Still, enough treasure trickled in to keep their enthusiasm alive.

Mel and Deo Fisher were early SCUBA pioneers before they became shipwreck seekers. (Photo provided by Mel Fisher's Treasures)

After all, Mel reasoned, almost any day could herald the discovery of the Atocha’s main body of riches. “Today’s the day,” his well-known phrase of encouragement to his divers, began to appear on T-shirts all over Key West.

At long last, in July of 1985, “the day” arrived.

On July 18, Mel’s son Kane, then captain of the salvage boat Dauntless, discovered a 60-pound ballast stone, barrel hoops, copper ingots, and almost 1,000 silver coins in a deep-water area called Hawks Channel.

Two days later, on July 20, divers Andy Matroci and Greg Wareham dove down to investigate a promising area of the seabed. Facing them was a reef of what looked like stones. The duo went back up for a metal detector and dove down again. The metal detector went wild: it was a reef of silver bars.

Andy reached the surface first and yelled to the salvage boat, “It’s the ‘mother lode’! We’re sitting on silver bars!”

A diver examines gold bars and chains on the site of the Nuestra Se–nora de Atocha shipwreck about 35 miles off Key West. (Photo by Pat Clyne/Mel Fisher Maritime Museum)

Kane Fisher radioed back to Key West, “Put away the charts. We’ve found the main pile.”

They had found 1,041 silver bars and boxes of coins — 3,000 to a box. Almost immediately, shippers’ marks on the silver bars were matched to the Atocha’s cargo manifest, confirming the identification.

“It was surreal. I had spent most of my life looking for it, and all of a sudden there it was — all these silver bars piled up and sticking up out of the mud, and there were fishhooks snagged on them and lobsters living in the cracks between the silver bars,” said Kane’s brother Kim, who had begun tracking the Atocha with his family when he was 12 years old.

The excavation of what media dubbed “the shipwreck of the century” began. Divers and archeologists eventually recovered more than $400 million in gold and silver coins and bars, breathtaking religious artifacts, jewelry, weapons, pottery, navigational instruments, contraband emeralds and other incredible items.

Kim Fisher, son of the late Mel Fisher, displays a 23-karat gold bar recovered during the ongoing search for the remainder of the Atocha shipwreck. (Photo by Rob O'Neal/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Now, 25 years after the discovery of that “main pile,” people flock to Key West’s Mel Fisher Maritime Museum to view the Atocha treasure and artifacts housed there — and marvel at the triumph of the human spirit that their recovery represents.

Yet according to the vessel’s cargo manifest, much more remains to be found. After Mel’s death in 1998, his son Kim took over the family enterprise — and today he and his own son Sean supervise the ongoing search for the portion of the legendary shipwreck that still awaits discovery.

“We’re looking for the sterncastle of the Atocha,” explained Kim, who looks (and sounds) a lot like Mel. “There’s a lot of treasure still out there … 100,000 coins, 300 80-pound silver bars …”

The Atocha’s story — and the quest — continue.

Topics: Events, Highlights, History, Key West, Local Color, On the Water

Recently much attention has been paid to the Florida Keys’ priceless natural resources and the need to preserve and protect them. But you probably aren’t aware that the conservation of these resources has been going on — with significant success — for more than 100 years.

Numerous species of fish, such as this French angelfish, are protected within the boundaries of the Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary. (Photo by Stephen Frink)

This effort is especially important because the Keys are paralleled by the continental United States’ only living coral barrier reef. The reef ecosystem — much like a tropical rainforest — supports an amazing diversity of plants and animals.

To protect part of the reef, John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park was established off the Upper Keys in 1963 as America’s first underwater preserve. Visitors to this remarkable spot can observe wildlife through experiences such as snorkeling, scuba, kayaking and glassbottom boat tours.

Pennekamp is incorporated into the Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, widely regarded as a national treasure, which was established in 1990 by the U.S. government.

The sanctuary contains 2,800 square nautical miles of coastal and ocean waters and submerged lands. Surrounding the entire Keys, it also includes vast stretches of Florida Bay, the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean.

Protected refuge areas throughout the Florida Keys provide a nesting, roosting and foraging habitat for egrets like this one.

Within its boundaries you’ll find mangrove islands, historic shipwrecks filled with rare artifacts, tropical fish and other marine life — and the sanctuary’s creation means these ecological, historical, and recreational wonders can be responsibly managed.

The Lower Keys are home to the National Key Deer Refuge, established in 1957 to protect and preserve habitats for wildlife — particularly the tiny, shy Key deer. A subspecies of the Virginia white-tailed deer, Key deer average 60 to 100 pounds fully grown and are about the size of a big dog.

The refuge’s 9,000-plus acres include mangrove forests, freshwater and salt marsh wetlands, pine rockland forests and tropical hardwood hammocks. Besides Key deer, these native habitats sustain 21 other threatened and endangered plant and animal species.

A subspecies of the Virginia white-tailed deer, the shy and engaging Key deer are approximately the size of a large dog.

And the best news? Since the refuge’s creation, its deer population has increased from a near-extinct 50 or fewer to a thriving herd of 600 to 700 — making it a wonderful environmental success story.

The Great White Heron National Wildlife Refuge, established in 1938, provides safe nesting and breeding areas for great white herons and other migratory birds and wildlife. White herons are North America’s largest wading bird and, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, they’re found only in the Keys and on the South Florida mainland.

Stretching between Key West and Marathon, the refuge features more than 375 square miles of open water and islands in the Gulf of Mexico — reached primarily by kayak, canoe or shallow-draft boat.

A few years ago, the Florida Keys’ first wildlife refuge celebrated its 100th birthday.

In 1908, then-President Theodore Roosevelt created the Key West National Wildlife Refuge to protect and preserve a breeding ground for migratory species. At that time, the hunting of huge numbers of birds for their colorful feathers (considered the must-have decoration for fashionable women’s hats) was decimating migratory bird populations.

For decades, great white herons and other migratory birds have found a haven in the Keys.

“The plume trading industry was so lucrative that in 1903 an ounce of bird feathers was worth $32 — twice the price of gold,” said Anne Morkill, manager of the Florida Keys National Wildlife Refuges Complex.

Lying west of Key West and accessible only by boat, the century-old refuge stretches 10 miles wide and 25 miles long. It provides nesting, roosting and foraging habitat for more than 250 species such as the roseate tern, osprey, bald eagle and magnificent frigate bird.

Thanks to the foresight of the people who created the wildlife haven, and the Keys’ other preserves, the island chain’s priceless natural resources have been protected and nurtured. May that protection continue … for at least the next 100 years.

Topics: Big Pine Key & Lower Keys, Environment, Highlights, History, Islamorada, Key Largo, Key West, Marathon, Voices Main Archive

Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? In Key West, nobody. And while Key West’s Wolf is certainly big, it’s only bad in the slang sense, where “bad” means seriously terrific.

The Schooner Wolf under full sail is a magnificent reminder of Key West's seafaring heritage. (Photo courtesy of the Schooner Wolf)

That’s because Key West’s “wolf” is the 74-foot gaff-rigged topsail Schooner Wolf, a majestic tall ship that’s been headquartered in the island city for some 25 years.

The flagship of the Keys’ Conch Republic, the Wolf is patterned after the 19th-century blockade runners that once plied the waters of the Florida Straits. The classic schooner has appeared in several movies, stars in Key West’s annual Pirates in Paradise festival, and is renowned for its humanitarian relief sails to needy Caribbean and Bahamian island communities.

But the Wolf is most notable for something else entirely: its owner and skipper, Captain Finbar Gittelman.

Captain Finbar Gittelman, a master seafarer with a roguish sense of humor, is the builder and skipper of the Wolf. (Photo by Rob O'Neal)

The epitome of an old salt, Captain Finbar bears a slightly unnerving resemblance to the wicked Barbossa in “Pirates of the Caribbean.” He has lived in Key West since the early 1970s and built his classic schooner in the early 1980s.

As admiral-in-chief of the Keys’ picturesque Conch Republic Navy, Finbar presides over the navy’s yearly sea battle with “federal invaders” — a highlight of the annual Conch Republic Independence Celebration. (By a strange coincidence, the navy ALWAYS wins). He’s also a legendary pirate king who, with his lady Julie McEnroe (a.k.a. Blossom), oversees Key West’s rollicking Pirates in Paradise festival.

However, there’s more to the captain than the personas he assumes with devil-may-care enthusiasm. In 1980 Finbar survived a deadly Caribbean hurricane at sea, spending three harrowing days in a tiny life raft after the ship he was piloting sank in the storm.

Shortly before the Wolf's departure for Haiti, volunteers load a portion of more than 10 tons of relief supplies destined for earthquake victims. (Photo by Rob O'Neal/Florida Keys News Bureau)

He has since sailed the Wolf on several missions of mercy after hurricanes and other natural disasters, carrying cargoes of relief supplies to desperate people in stricken Caribbean regions.

On Feb. 20, the Wolf departed Key West’s Historic Seaport for earthquake-ravaged Haiti, carrying more than 10 tons of food, water, medicine, tools and other supplies donated by Florida Keys residents and businesses.

Finbar and Julie expect the crossing to Haiti to take between five and seven days. Their final destination is a remote coastal area not accessible to larger relief ships, where members of the local fishing fleet will paddle their dugout canoes out to meet the schooner.

As the Wolf sets sail for Haiti Feb. 20, Finbar blows the conch horn in farewell while Julie waves goodbye to friends on the dock. (Photo by Rob O'Neal/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Not only will the Wolf bring these people lifesaving supplies — it also carries the good wishes of hundreds of Keys residents, and a part of the island chain’s vital spirit.

“People keep asking me why we’re doing this, and my answer is simple,” said Finbar. “We’re islanders, and we need to take care of our fellow islanders.”

So raise a glass in salute to the Wolf, to Finbar and Julie and the rest of the Haiti-bound crew. May they find fair winds and smooth seas, and a safe journey home.

Topics: Highlights, History, Key West, Local Color, On the Water, Profiles, Voices Main Archive

Harry Truman slept in a double bed in Key West in a room that, by day, was warmed by the subtropical sun. Close to his bed was the simple desk where he wrote daily letters to his wife Bess. Downstairs, on a sun porch overlooking a broad sweep of lawn, stood his discreetly-covered poker table.

Harry Truman's former "little White House" in Key West is now a world-renowned museum. (Photos courtesy of the Little White House Museum)

Harry Truman could relax in Key West. From 1946 to 1952 he spent 11 working vacations on the island — taking brisk morning walks, playing poker, swimming and fishing, and making some of the most important decisions of his presidency.

Truman first visited Key West when his doctor ordered rest to fight a bad cold. Entranced by the island, he quickly adopted the one-time commandant’s quarters on the Key West naval station as his “little White House.”

Today, that West Indian structure is a noteworthy American historic site known as the Harry S. Truman Little White House Museum.

Florida’s only presidential museum, it’s located on the former Navy base in an enclave now called Truman Annex. There, visitors can tour airy, comfortable rooms that look much as they did in Harry’s day, listening to guides tell tales of his presidency and Key West sojourns.

During his Key West sojourns, Truman made momentous decisions and conducted important meetings away from the pressures of Washington.

The house’s easygoing atmosphere offers no hint of the momentous issues decided there. According to Bob Wolz, the museum’s executive director, it’s believed that Truman decided to adopt the Marshall Plan to aid postwar Europe while he was in Key West — as well as deciding to relieve General Douglas MacArthur of his command and to forego running for reelection.

Bob should know. Seemingly born to nurture and guide the Little White House, he’s a passionate historian and an expert on all things Truman. He even co-wrote a book about Harry’s Key West years.

The end of those years certainly didn’t mark the end of the Little White House’s role in politics. Since then, the house has hosted former presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, Carter and Clinton — and even the presidents of Armenia and Azerbaijan during a historic four-day peace conference.

The Little White House has also hosted other former presidents and political leaders -- including Bill and Hillary Clinton, seen here chatting with the museum's guiding spirit Bob Wolz.

Last May, a rededication ceremony commemorated a seven-year, nearly million-dollar research-intensive restoration that brought even greater historical authenticity to Harry’s one-time headquarters.

For example, all the interior walls were repainted to match the 1949 colors revealed by a detailed paint analysis, and the foyer’s original wallpaper was recreated and hung. The living room draperies and upholstery were replaced with fabric that matched the original, located after an Internet search.

The restoration team even found (and had reproduced) 18 oil paintings and prints that were displayed in the 1949 Little White House. Outside, the Truman gardens were replicated based on site plans and their appearance in vintage photographs.

Even small details weren’t overlooked. Volunteers searched industriously until they found and obtained duplicates of the lamps that graced Harry and Bess Truman’s bedside tables — and flower arrangements were recreated from photographs showing the rooms in the late 1940s.

Today, visitors to the Little White House seemingly step back in time to view the property just as the late president did.

Each May, the museum co-hosts a Key West symposium that examines Truman’s legacy.

During the opening reception on the grounds, attendees can hear nationally recognized speakers and meet VIPs like former Truman aide Ken Hechler, who later became West Virginia’s secretary of state. In past years, many reception guests have chatted with the late president’s grandson Clifton Truman Daniel.

Not surprisingly, he seems right at home in the Little White House his grandfather loved.

Topics: Highlights, History, Key West, Voices Main Archive

There are bars in Key West that open and close in a season, with no one realizing they’ve been there at all. And there are bars that almost effortlessly make a place for themselves in island history, that live on in the collective memory forever, their characteristics affectionately exaggerated with the years. The Full Moon Saloon was a bar of the latter sort.

Sid Snelgrove (left) and Vic Latham were the guiding spirits behind the legendary Full Moon. (Photo by Richard Watherwax)

The Full Moon opened its doors to the rowdy, raucous Key West of the late 1970s, and it could never have succeeded without owners Vic Latham and Sid Snelgrove. Big men with lived-in faces, they dispensed drinks and careless hospitality while carefully asking no questions of their patrons. Although they were joined by other managers in time, and even other partners, Vic and Sid were the Moon’s guiding force.

Key West in the late 70s and early 80s was a magnet for adventurers of all sorts — whether they were transporting dubious substances, heading for Afghanistan in search of a story for “Esquire,” or seeking the treasure of the Spanish Main. As the Moon’s popularity grew, its freewheeling atmosphere made it a natural gathering place for people in such irregular professions.

Ultimately, the Full Moon Saloon came to exemplify a wry, raffish, outlaw era in Key West. Over the years, it was mentioned in more than 20 novels and the pages of “Playboy,” “Esquire,” “Mad Magazine,” “Rolling Stone,” “People” and “National Lampoon.” Its patrons included gonzo journalist Hunter Thompson, poet Jim Harrison, “pirate laureate” Jimmy Buffett, and novelists Bob Stone and John Leslie and Phil Caputo.

In my mind, the Full Moon Saloon will always be associated with Phil Clark. He introduced me to the place half a lifetime ago, when I was a shy 22-year-old naive in the ways of the world. A larger-than-life character who had then been on the island for more than a decade, he not only imbibed and socialized at the bar, but also used its convenient pay phone for low-voiced conversations about questionable enterprises.

Phil Clark, whose life inspired Jimmy Buffett's "A Pirate Looks at Forty," was a regular patron of the Full Moon Saloon. (Photo © 2009 Tom Corcoran from the book “Jimmy Buffett — the Key West Years”)

Immortalized by Buffett in “A Pirate Looks at Forty,” Phil was one of the daring Keys renegades who always seemed on the brink of metamorphosing into a living legend. Seeking adventure, he had tried almost every hazardous occupation known to man — from mercenary soldier to gentleman smuggler to New York City advertising executive. The last, it must be said, gave him the largest twinges of conscience.

He and his cohorts drank at the Moon, argued about philosophy at the Moon, held uproarious birthday parties at the Moon and even, on occasion, dozed off at the big horseshoe-shaped bar.

Years later, when Phil died in Sausalito, donations from the Moon paid for his cremation and brought his ashes home. That’s the kind of place it was.

Like most denizens of the island’s old days, the Moon weathered many changes: moving from its original United Street home to new quarters on Simonton Street, finding its niche in a suddenly chic Key West, struggling to become a “serious” business. Nevertheless, when the 70s scammers evolved into the slightly bewildered survivors of the 90s, the Moon was still the place they went for a generous drink, a well-cooked meal, and a chance to ponder the legacy of their lives.

"Roy's Dead Now," painted by Key West artist Martin Laessig, hung in a place of honor at the Full Moon Saloon.

Yet in July of 1993, the Moon abruptly closed its doors. Sadly, Vic went to Chicago. Sid went to Costa Rica and other faraway locales. The long-time customers scattered.

Tax troubles, some said, led to the Moon’s demise. Others blamed the inexorable march of progress, or the zealous federales who had put much of its regular clientele behind bars of a different sort.

Although the property’s later leaseholders tried to capitalize on the Full Moon’s popularity by opening the “New Moon,” the attempt (predictably) was a failure.

Today, the Moon’s former building on Simonton Street sports pink awnings (!) and houses a wonderful restaurant called Camille’s. All outward traces of the bar are gone.

But that doesn’t matter at all. The essence of the Full Moon Saloon, like the essence of the era that spawned it, remains alive in all of us who were lucky enough to be part of it.

Topics: Highlights, History, Key West, Local Color, Quirks

Fort Zachary Taylor Historic State Park is renowned for a picnic area shaded by towering Norfolk pines and cooled by ever-present breezes — and a 1,000-foot Atlantic-front beach that Key Westers regard as one of the best-kept secrets on the island.

The beach at Fort Zachary Taylor Historic State Park is Key West locals' favorite for its clear Atlantic Ocean waters and near-shore snorkeling.

Snorkeling fans love the park’s relatively deep water and rocky promontories close to shore — which means snorkeling off the beach can bring encounters with tiny, colorful tropical fish that seem eager to make eye contact.

“Fort Zach,” as the place is affectionately called, is a popular site for sunset weddings, remembrance ceremonies and lively picnics. One of the most memorable weddings at the park was set in a shady area overlooking the water. Dolphins played in the bay, an eagle watched the ceremony from the branch of a tall pine, and — I observed this firsthand as a member of the wedding party — a couple of boaters in the channel offshore hollered to the groom (or was it the bride?), “It’s not too late to save yourself! Jump and we’ll pick you up!”

No matter how appealing the park’s recreation and wedding areas are, it’s the fort itself, once nicknamed “Fort Forgotten,” that really makes it unique.

Civil War re-enactors dressed in period clothing demonstrate preparations for battle within the fort walls.

Its construction was begun in 1845, not long after Florida became a state. In 1850, after former President Zachary Taylor died in office, the structure was named in his honor. Work on it proceeded slowly, with setbacks and hardships ranging from materials shortages to yellow fever.

The fort was still unfinished when the Civil War broke out, but nevertheless it served as the home base for a Union blockade of Confederate ships. Though Key West was the southernmost port in the United States, oddly enough it remained in Union hands throughout the war — and scores of blockade-running ships were captured offshore.

In 1866, construction on the fort was finally completed. Surrounded by water and connected to land by a causeway, the three-story structure featured a granite foundation, brick walls five feet thick, and remarkable vaulted ceilings.

Located on the edge of Key West, Fort Zach was built to last, with a granite foundation and brick walls five feet thick.

Fort Taylor later saw duty during the Spanish-American War and both World Wars — but, despite attempts at modernization, advances in weaponry and defense tactics eventually made it obsolete. Unneeded and remote, it fell into disrepair.

In 1968 a restoration effort began, spearheaded by a Key Wester named Howard England. Slowly and carefully, the fort and its armament were excavated — revealing an astonishingly large collection of Civil War cannons.

In 1971, the “forgotten” fort was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Two years later, it was designated a National Historic Landmark.

Today, thousands of people enjoy the park and beach each year. The fort is the site of a popular annual festival that features Civil War re-enactors in authentic camps, re-creations of historic military maneuvers, period merchandise and artisans’ demonstrations of skill.

Military re-enactors stage a sea battle between two historic tall ships in the waters off Fort Zach.

Even pirates and wenches have discovered the place. For the past several years, it has been the setting for a buccaneer encampment, complete with a marketplace and lively revelry, during the annual Pirates in Paradise gathering.

Now far from forgotten, the structure is watched over by a citizens’ support organization known as the Friends of Fort Taylor — and rightfully recognized for the role it played in Key West’s rich history.

Topics: Highlights, History, Key West, Voices Main Archive

In 1979, October in Key West meant the dog days of a late subtropical summer. Many streets were so empty that dogs could actually be spotted dozing on the asphalt.

Happy birthday, Fantasy Fest! Key West doesn't "clown around" when it comes to producing its flamboyant annual festival and spectacular grand parade. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

But a group of local merchants changed that when they conceived a novel way to mark Halloween, a favorite island holiday that residents celebrated with uninhibited flair: a Halloween festival they dubbed Fantasy Fest.

Their 1979 event was a two-day party and a parade — featuring a local woman who draped her nude metallic-painted body across the hood of a Lincoln Continental and proclaimed herself its hood ornament.

After that auspicious beginning, the festival became an annual extravaganza known as the perfect place to “let it all hang out.” Organizers promoted it nationwide, and visitors began flocking to Key West each October.

Eventually it grew to 10 days. National and international media — including television weatherman Willard Scott — lauded its often risqué costume competitions, lavish masquerade balls and grand parade that featured fabulous floats and marching groups in bright-colored finery.

A past Fantasy Fest costume contest and parade featured a wacky flock of (wait for it) poultry in motion. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

In the mid-1990s Willard made an on-air statement that locals still remember. Displaying an elaborate feathered Fantasy Fest mask live on “The Today Show,” he enthusiastically blurted, “And in Key West this week, they’re having their annual Fanny Fest.”

Whatever you call it, the festival marks its 30th birthday this year — and most Key West residents can recall an offbeat Fantasy Fest incident or two. Like the time a local celebrity and his entourage appeared in costumes satirizing then-president Bill Clinton’s Monica-mania. Or the night a “spaceman” had dire technical difficulties with his flying saucer outside Sloppy Joe’s Bar. Or the year half-naked “headhunters” invaded Duval Street.

Yet despite its outrageous flavor, Fantasy Fest also has a more serious side as a reflection of current events.

What do you get when you combine a blue dress, a cigar and a president who shall remain nameless? A fantastic entry in the Fantasy Fest parade! (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

In 1998, for example, a few weeks after Hurricane Georges swept through the Lower Keys, the festival went on as planned — offering triumphant proof that no storm could dampen the Keys’ resilience or creativity. The parade honored U.S. 1 Radio for staying on the air throughout the hurricane to offer Keys-wide updates and comfort.

One float featured the station’s generator, nicknamed “Zippy” because it powered the broadcasts during the storm-induced electrical blackout. Parade spectators saluted the valiant little generator with nonstop applause and laughter.

Perhaps the most poignant moment in Fantasy Fest history came in 2001. Just weeks after the Sept. 11 attacks, the festival gave eight exhausted, grieving New York City firefighters a chance to relax and smile.

The FDNY firefighters were rightfully hailed as heroes during the 2001 Fantasy Fest parade. Rob Carlo (center) held up his late brother's photo as they marched. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Months before, firefighters Michael Carlo and his brother Rob, teammates on the 10-member FDNY volleyball team, had decided to march in the year’s Fantasy Fest parade. But their plans — and their lives — were shattered when the World Trade Center collapsed.

Mike Carlo died in the rubble, as did volleyball team member Tim Welty. The remaining eight teammates, though devastated by their loss, put in heartbreaking days and weeks working at the site that came to be known as Ground Zero.

But the night of the 2001 Fantasy Fest parade, dressed in red, white and blue T-shirts bearing Mike and Tim’s names, they marched the length of the parade route in memory of their lost brothers.

Whether honoring heroes or saluting creative costumes and floats, Fantasy Fest has earned its place as Key West's premier annual festival. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Rob carried Mike’s photograph, while a teammate waved a sign that read, “FDNY — Still the Greatest Job on Earth.” An estimated 50,000 spectators cheered, blinked back tears, and chanted “USA! USA!” as the firefighters passed by.

The 30th annual Fantasy Fest begins Oct. 23 and runs through Nov. 1, with the parade set for Halloween night. Whether you’ve never attended or are a veteran fest-goer, this is the year to join Key Westers in celebrating the festival’s colorful history … and anticipating the next 30 years.

Topics: Events, Festivals, Highlights, History, Key West, LGBT, Local Color, Quirks

The southernmost stretch of U.S. Highway 1, running some 110 miles from mainland Florida throughout the Keys to Key West, has earned many names over the years. It’s been called the Overseas Highway. The Highway That Goes to Sea. And on October 16 it earned the right to be called an All-American Road, the highest national designation a roadway can receive.

The Florida Keys' landmark Overseas Highway is now an All-American Road ... the only roadway to earn the top national designation in Florida and one of just 31 in the entire U.S..

But for those of us who love the Keys, whether as residents or regular visitors, the highway has a simpler and more elemental designation: it’s the road home.

Heading south from mainland Florida, the highway leads into a world of seemingly endless water and sky. On the left, the Atlantic Ocean unrolls to a blue horizon; on the right lies Florida Bay and, further south, the Gulf of Mexico.

From the mainland to Key West, an astonishing 42 bridges leapfrog between islands. One of them, the Seven Mile Bridge at Marathon, stretches 6.79 miles across open water — and was once nicknamed “the eighth wonder of the world.”

The new Jewfish Creek Bridge is the first of 42 Overseas Highway spans that southbound drivers cross on their way to the end of the road. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Yet the Seven Mile Bridge wasn’t always a highway bridge, and the Overseas Highway wasn’t always a road. It began as a railroad, the brainchild of millionaire Henry Flagler, who envisioned a train route connecting all the Florida Keys and mainland Florida. Flagler inspired an army of men to spend seven years constructing the railroad’s bridges and land-based tracks, and in 1912 the first train pulled into Key West.

After only two-plus decades of carrying freight and wealthy vacationers, much of the railroad was badly damaged in a 1935 hurricane. Three years later the Overseas Highway debuted, built on a foundation that incorporated some of the original railway spans.

In 1982, 37 original bridges including the Seven Mile Bridge were replaced with wider spans (eagerly welcomed by those of us familiar with the scarily narrow old bridges). About a third of the original bridges were removed during the project, but three of those remaining — the Long Key, Bahia Honda and Seven Mile bridges — are on the National Register of Historic Places.

This lucky couple (and their trusty flamingo "mascot") travel the 18-Mile Stretch between mainland Florida and Key Largo, just before embarking on the Overseas Highway's one-of-a-kind driving adventure. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Traveling down the Overseas Highway, drivers can see many of the old bridges running alongside the newer ones. And all of us who travel the road regularly have our favorite stretches and sights — talisman vistas that offer a welcome foretaste of home on the southward drive.

For example, when I reach Islamorada in the Upper Keys, I can’t help smiling as I pass a particularly beautiful cluster of contemporary oceanfront homes. Spotting the pocket-sized island of Pigeon Key, nestled beneath the Old Seven Mile Bridge, inspires daydreams about living in one of its tiny restored cottages.

Farther along the Old Seven Mile Bridge, defying natural logic, five scraggly bushes sprouted on the weather-beaten pavement years ago and somehow have managed to survive. For me, they’ve become leafy mascots. Every time I cross the newer bridge, I glance anxiously over at each bush to make sure it’s still hanging on.

The historic Old Seven Mile Bridge, at right of the newer bridge, cuts through tiny Pigeon Key and is home to five unlikely but beloved bushes. Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau

Just before Big Pine lies one of the highway’s prime vistas. At Bahia Honda State Park, a portion of the old Bahia Honda Bridge arches up against the sky, a stark and throat-catchingly beautiful reminder of the Keys’ past glories.

To earn All-American Road status under the National Scenic Byways program, a road must have nationally significant archeological, cultural, historic, natural, recreational and/or scenic qualities — and must possess features that don’t exist anywhere else, making it a visitor destination in itself.

The Overseas Highway certainly fits the bill. It’s the first and only Florida road to achieve All-American status, and it joins just 30 other All-American Roads in the entire U.S. So the designation is prestigious indeed.

But no matter how impressive the honor, it can’t eclipse the status the Overseas Highway already possesses in the hearts of Keys residents and those who wish they were. It’s our highway, our connection to each other and the outside world — and always, our road home.

Topics: Big Pine Key & Lower Keys, Environment, Highlights, History, Islamorada, Key Largo, Key West, Marathon, Voices Main Archive

If you want to be mistaken for a Florida Keys resident — or at least an island-savvy regular visitor — don’t ever say “kontch.” The word “conch” is pronounced “konk,” like a conk on the head (which is what you deserve if you persist in using the wrong pronunciation).

The fluted, pink-lined conch shell was used by early Keys seafarers (usually older than the crew pictured here!) as a signaling device.

For those of you who haven’t encountered it before, a conch is a mollusk (sometimes known as a sea snail). That might not sound too appetizing, but actually conch meat is served and savored in at least half the restaurants from Key Largo to Key West.

It tastes a bit like abalone, and you can find it in creamy white or tomato-based chowder, chewy deep-fried fritters served with cocktail sauce or mustard sauce, and even breaded and fried as conch steak. No two restaurants prepare it quite the same way — which means you can have a great time sampling conch in many different eateries, comparing tastes and cooking techniques.

As well as eating conch, early Keys residents used its fluted pink-lined shell as a horn for long-distance signaling. And according to legend, they came to admire the mollusk’s tough, hardy nature so much that they adopted its name for themselves.

Many things in the Keys bear the name "Conch." Here, NBC "Today" weatherman Al Roker, left, rides the Conch Tour Train during a live broadcast from the island chain. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Today, conch is no longer fished in the Keys, but the word “conch” refers to someone born in the island chain — which is affectionately known as the Conch Republic.

How did that name come about? Like many other things in the Keys, it’s a long story. It involves loaves of stale Cuban bread, a governmental border checkpoint, a request for $1 billion in foreign aid, and the Florida Keys’ 1982 secession from the United States.

The story began when a U.S. Border Patrol checkpoint was set up without warning in Florida City, at the head of the Keys, ostensibly so agents could search cars for drugs and illegal aliens. The roadblock created a traffic jam miles long on U.S. 1, the only road that connects the island chain to mainland Florida, for vehicles leaving the Keys.

The massive traffic delays threatened to derail the fledgling tourism industry and made locals furious. The border patrol checkpoint, they figured, meant the government was treating their beloved Keys like a foreign country. With impeccable logic, they decided the island chain should BECOME a foreign country.

In 1982, hundreds gathered to watch the historic secession ceremony and birth of the independent Conch Republic.

On April 23, 1982, in front of an enthusiastic crowd at Key West’s Mallory Square, a hardy group of patriots proclaimed the Keys the independent Conch Republic and hoisted a flag bearing a large conch shell on a field of blue. They declared war on the United States by ceremoniously bopping a U.S. Navy sailor on the head with a loaf of stale Cuban bread, surrendered 60 seconds later and demanded $1 billion in foreign aid.

The story of the secession captured international attention, and the imaginations of thousands of people who flocked to visit the new country. During the excitement caused by the birth of a nation, the Border Patrol checkpoint quietly vanished, never to reappear.

NBC "Today" weatherman Al Roker, left, shows a Conch Republic flag during a special broadcast with anchor Matt Lauer, right, from the fabled republic. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Loyal citizens are still waiting for the foreign aid (no surprise there). But that hasn’t dampened the spirit of the republic, whose motto is “we seceded where others failed.” Conch Republic passports and royal blue flags are as popular today as they were in 1982, and ambassadorships are highly prized.

If you can’t visit the island nation any time soon — or, if you want to learn more about it while planning a tropical trek — check out www.conchrepublic.com. And when you do arrive, remember one vital rule: don’t ever call it the “Kontch” Republic.

Topics: Highlights, History, Local Color, Quirks, Voices Main Archive