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g o s o uth , way so uth .our writer uncovers a slew of secret gems both on and offshore that unveil a side of the island few even know about.there is an emerald green plain that seemingly stretches to infinity before me. I see it as I peer out the Plexi window of a five-seat seaplane on my way to Dry Tortugas National Park. The 40-minute flight is carrying me 70 miles west of the southernmost point in the continental United States, but all I’ve seen thus far is the quick-moving shadow of a reef shark and the intrigue of shipwrecks waiting to be explored below the surface.

Just as a massive hexagonal structure appears on the horizon as if rising from the sea, the pilot, Lou, goes in for a most graceful water landing — alone worth the trip — and then maneuvers our bright yellow plane to the beach. As I hop down from the pontoon, he hands me a small cooler filled with drinks and a mesh bag with snorkel gear. He tells me to be back at the plane in precisely two hours and 20 minutes. I take off for a self-guided tour of the park’s historic Fort Jefferson, leaving time to snorkel around the outer walls of an actual moat.

beyondwestkey

story megan padill a photography jon whittle

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this is the return trip to Key West I have long imagined. Like many, I’ve explored its storied streets, dipped into its quirky muse-ums, handsomely tipped the street performers and further smoothed a few of its many barstools. I always knew that when I returned, I’d be ready to hopscotch beyond old town and the hustle and bustle of Duval street. I’d longed for days spent on water, exploring be-yond Key West, and nights dining in chef-owned bistros where drink specials come in martini glasses rather than fishbowls.

as I stand on the grass-covered roof of the fort and watch the graceful black terns fly just beyond my arm’s reach, a peaceful feel-ing washes over me, and I realize my Key West experience is in the midst of redefinition.

I discover curved stone stairwells and climb cautiously to reach the cells built into the six-sided fort. It’s like a giant honeycomb where I earn a history lesson with almost every step. Fort Jefferson is built on garden Key, one of seven islands that were named the tortugas (turtles in spanish) by ponce de León in 1513 for the abun-dance of sea turtles that nested here. a lack of fresh water prompted mariners to mark them “dry” on their charts.

It wasn’t until 333 years later that the U.s. army began building the fort to control navigation in the gulf and protect atlantic-bound Mississippi river trade. It was put to new use dur-ing the Civil War when captured Union deserters as well as the four Lincoln assassination conspirators were imprisoned here as an alternative to the death sentence. In one of the bastions, there are six cannons aimed directly at the drawbridge over which I crossed to reach the fort. Not one shot was ever fired; soldiers’ written ac-counts allude to gun cleaning as a way to pass the time.

Building was abandoned 30 years later, and in 1908 the site be-came a wildlife refuge to protect the sooty tern rookery. Fort Jeffer-

son became a national monument in 1935; the entire area was desig-nated the Dry tortugas National park in 1992. as I explore this piece of living history, I recall reading about the wife of a resident doctor who couldn’t wait to visit Key West — a dream escape, even then.

B E LOW T H E S U R FAC E

there’s a pretty white-sand beach that abuts the moat. From there I can snorkel in most any direction, putting Lou’s gear to good use and adding another dimension to my day trip. I follow the foundations out from the beach and then to the right until I reach the next bend in the wall. the farther I go, the better the view. purple gorgonian fans dance in the surge. a dozen colorful parrotfish chomp on the coral, busily making the sand on which I rest before heading out in the other direction. this time I see a lone barracuda holding perfectly still and hundreds, maybe thousands, of silverside baitfish forming a swirling ball.

although I hate to leave, Lou makes it worthwhile. after he motors the pontoon plane across the water and positions it at the beginning of the “runway,” the sound of the engine becomes deafening as we gain power for takeoff. a thrill rushes through me when water sprays up over the windows and the plane separates from the water. It’s a quiet trip back; I, along with the three other passengers, use the time to catch my breath and daydream about my new experience.

When we approach Key West, I perk right up. I look down and see the tight grid of streets that make up old town as well as the dividing line to New town and the last bridge of the overseas high-way. Even the pastel cottages on Westin’s sunset Key, an island just offshore, are neatly lined up below like an architectural model of the perfect beachside community.

once we land at the airport, it’s less than a 10-minute drive to the newly opened Beachside resort, resting directly on the gulf and

modern-day conquis-

tadors explore fort

jefferson. opposite

clockwise from top

left: a sunset at sea;

bésame mucho owner

michael minkhin; café

marquesa; hoisting

the sail aboard Danger;

a curved stairwell in

fort jefferson; lou,

the seaplane pilot;

croissants de france

pastries; scented soaps

at bésame mucho; café

marquesa’s rack of

lamb (center).

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chosen as my home base for this return trip to the Conch repub-lic. the unassuming exterior belies the comforts found within. My one-bedroom suite has a spacious kitchen big enough to entertain a small dinner party. a wonderfully plush king-size bed wins the battle of should I nap indoors or out at one of the poolside cabanas.

N E W D I S COV E R I E S

the next day I devote the bulk of daylight to exploring a few of old town’s more than 3,000 historic buildings. “It reminds me of Nantucket,” I say to Frank, my Conch tour train guide, and he un-derscores the point. “Both were largely built by New England ship captains and both have relied heavily on tourism since the 19th cen-tury.” he goes on to say that much of the architecture is a tropical adaptation of wood-framed New England design with features such as widow’s walks. truly unique to Key West is the eyebrow house whose steep roofline covers the second story to keep out sun and storms.

Fortified with a chocolate almond croissant from Croissants de France, I’m ready for a walk. Key West is meant for random discovery. one find off the beaten path is Bésame Mucho just a few blocks from Duval street in the area known as Bahama Village. one of the owners, Michael MinKhin, is fourth-generation Conch (the affectionate term for a local). the shop has a “historical island” look and feel and the

items are mostly from Europe where the married co-owners do most of their buying. Bésame Mucho is spanish for kiss me mucho and is the title of a Mexican song from the ’30s to which the owners fell in love. that romance translates through every corner of the shop where antique silver mercury Christmas ornaments share space with Italian cameos and Belgian linen.

throughout Key West, I encounter traces of papa nearly everywhere, from passing the writer’s home (now a museum on Whitehead) to reading his framed correspondence at the south-ernmost house museum. I’m inspired to read his work and find the entire hemingway collection at Voltaire Books. I’m hoping it will help my Key West glow linger long after I get home.

I try a new take on the beloved Mallory square tradition of toast-ing the setting sun alongside everyone in town. aboard Danger’s Prize, the crew pours a full complement of good wines that veil a “tasting” as a grown-up version of a happy-hour sail. there are two newlywed couples beside me: one is young and just starting out; the other has weathered the loss of former spouses and has come to Key West to step together into a new life stage. the dolphins that accompany us back to the harbor seem drawn to the hopeful energy on board.

I carry my buzz on to dinner at the charming Café Marquesa. two walls of windows, mirrors and plenty of candles ensure my din-

ing experience sparkles as much as chef susan Ferry’s food. hers may be the best crab cake I’ve ever tasted, same for the rack of lamb with a goat cheese crust. the service is standout too. When I want only one glass of wine but can’t decide between two varieties, the server suggests a half glass with each of two courses. saluté!

My trip wraps as it begun, at another preserved habitat, the Key West National Wildlife refuge. so impressed with Danger Charters, I return for their half-day sail aboard Danger, a 62-foot, two-masted schooner, and a little snorkeling and kayaking through what the lo-cals call the backcountry. along with about 25 other guests, I learn this is one of the nation’s earliest refuges for wild birds, designated in 1908. only one percent of this 200,000-acre area is landmass, the rest mostly scattered mangrove islands. We have the corner we’re exploring to ourselves since navigating it requires experience and a boat with a shallow draft. Between the crew and Danger, a skipjack designed to navigate the shallow waters, we have both.

We help hoist the sails and then relax on deck, watching the beauty of the wind fill out the crisp, white sheets and squadrons of pelicans perform their synchronized dive-bombing stunts.

“Do you know what the number-one cause of pelican death is?” asks crewmember hague.

“a broken neck?” I suggest.

“starvation from blindness [which I presume is caused by re-peatedly smacking the water],” he says.

and so goes all of our bird and wildlife sightings, each one paired with a mini ecology lesson.

When we reach what the crew calls Mule Island, Danger anchors a good distance offshore and we divide into two groups of about six tandem kayaks each to circumnavigate this mangrove island. My guide, tony, urges us to watch the water’s glassy surface for the silver tip of a dorsal fin or the ribbon-like flow of water off a stingray’s wing. he captures our attention by pointing out the pulsing seafloor and explaining the science behind the upside-down, bottom- dwelling jellies called Cassiopeia that thrive here. We follow him into an inlet within the mangrove to learn more about this fascinating ecosystem while cormorants and osprey alight on the branches nearby. My ears fill with the sound of their beating wings.

the return sail comes with light snacks, free-flowing drinks and that inexplicable feeling of sun-kissed bliss — and new dis-covery — that we’re blessed with only from time to time.

from top: mysteri-

ous passageways add

intrigue to fort jef-

ferson, onboard wine

tastings redefine sunset

cruising. an isolated

outpost, the fort sits in

the gulf of mexico west

of the keys (opposite).

standing on the grass-covered roof of the fort, a peaceful feeling washes over me as i realize my

key west experience is in the midst of redefinition.STAYbeachside resort & confer-ence center 800.546.0885, beachsidekeywest.com

SEE + doseaplanes of key west 305.294.0709, seaplanes ofkeywest.com

dry tortugas national park 305.242.7700, nps.gov/drto

southernmost house museum 866.764.6633, southernmosthouse.com

danger charters 305.296.3272, danger charters.com

E ATcafé marquesa 305.292.1244, marquesa.com

croissants de france 305.294.2624, croissantsdefrance.com

SHoPbésame mucho 305.294.1928, besamemucho.net

F T+ L m u S T S + key west