Life in the Florida Keys is a little different from the mainland. Its residents will be the first to tell you. This rustic chain of islands stretching 113 miles from Florida City to Key West enjoys an intangible vibe that has enchanted everyone from Ernest Hemingway to Harry Truman.
It not just the picture-postcard tropical paradise–the hammocks, palm trees and frozen libations of Jimmy Buffett songs–that coax visitors into a state of relaxation. It’s something less palpable. You feel it the first time you roll down a car window while crossing one of the many, lengthy bridges that split the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. As the draft pushes back your fingertips, your mind is more at ease. Your skin feels fresher, your hair somehow softer.
You feel it when you arrive at your lodgings with the door unlocked and a welcome note on the pillow informing you the proprietors have gone out on the boat, or when you return a rental kayak hours late with no hint of a charge. You taste it with the first bite of seafood snared hours earlier by a local captain and delivered directly to the restaurant’s dock. There, nothing more than flip-flops, board shorts, and a tank top is ever expected, regardless of the dollar amount next to your menu item.
Mostly though, you feel it whenever you talk to folks… the fishing boat captains, the restaurateurs, the small business owners always keen to share their way of life with visitors. They’re relaxed, and now you are too. You quickly realize it isn’t the place; it’s the people.
More than a year ago, this way of life came under threat. In early September 2017, Hurricane Irma – a Category 4 storm– pummeled these exposed islands. In Monroe County, there were 17 official fatalities attributed to the storm, but in truth, countless lives remain in tatters. The Keys are open for business and as welcoming as ever, but the recovery remains years from completion.
Tens of thousands who followed evacuation orders returned to the devastation of homes, businesses, and boats simply washed away by winds and powerful storm surge. State parks and wildlife sanctuaries were overwhelmed, while the tourism-dependent economy was decimated. On Big Pine Key, three hours south of Miami, the strongest gusts exceeded an estimated 150mph. It was the worst hit area.
“As a photographer, I’ve traveled the world post-catastrophic events,” says Bill Keogh, the owner of Big Pine Kayak Adventures. “Earthquakes, hurricanes, all kinds of strife and flooding. There’s nothing worse than when it’s your hometown; when you’re driving back into it, all those little familiar landmarks are a piece of your history. They’re gone. For two months I gave directions to my house saying ‘take a right at the light and left at the third boat in the middle of the road’. It was just so overwhelming.”
The storm magnified the affordable housing crisis in the region, too. In total, 4,500 homes were destroyed. Around 500 were lost on Big Pine Key. Where did all those people go?
“Many have left. Enrollment is down 7 percent,” says Mike Laurent, executive director of the Florida Keys Community Land Trust, a non-profit dedicated to addressing the critical need for affordable single-family homes among islanders.
“What hurts is that these are people that have roots, families and children in the keys. The ones that stayed are really struggling. At best, they’re in uncomfortable and unusual living circumstances.”
As we walk down ‘Avenue E’, the storm’s legacy is prominent. Some residents appear to be living in tiny teardrop trailers amid ongoing repairs to their homes. Just three doors or so down from the rubble of a flattened home, Mike shows us the Trust’s first completed property. The contrast is a stark one. The single-family home sits on stilts to keep it above potential storm surge and is built to withstand 200mph winds. By all reason, it’s Irma proof.
Within weeks, Mike hopes to have the first tenants paying deed-restricted, income-dependent rent well below market value. The Trust has purchased 13 other lots and is preparing to move onto Phase 2 of the building process. While the initiative cannot address the need on its own, Mike hopes the trust can set a tone and inspire other efforts.
“We really can’t build them fast enough. We want to serve the county workers, the teachers and firemen and policemen. That’s the real heart of the community,” he says.
These efforts serve a dual purpose. They keep the land from private developers seeking to build new, luxury homes at market rate – largely to mainlanders seeking a part-time piece of paradise. The destruction of a storm like Irma can present opportunity for developers. For the Keys community, it threatens the way of life.
“The suicide rate in the community has skyrocketed,” Laurent says. “It’s alarming. I think that speaks to the quiet desperation that exists here.” That suicide rate was already 82 percent higher than the statewide average. By the middle of 2018, the number of people taking their own life was on pace to double.
“There’s still a lot of suffering,” says Keys Strong co-founder Elmira Leto. “A lot of people have lost hope. They realize there’s no ‘getting back to normal’. It’s not ever going to be like it was. People are looking for a new normalcy that still makes them feel good.”
Through grants, Keys Strong is able to employ a mental health counselor who is in the field six days a week. The group also oversees individual grants of up to $20,000 from the Red Cross and Volunteer Florida to assist with the rebuilding of homes. $90 million in federal relief funds is also designated for The Florida Keys, but help can’t come fast enough… and neither can the tourists.
The Florida Keys state park system attracts visitors from around the world who want to camp yards from the crystal blue oceanfront and take part in world class fishing, snorkeling, and diving. Those visitors keep the restaurants, the rustic resorts, the bars, fishing charter boats, and other independent businesses afloat. But now, 14 months on from Irma, the parks are still rebuilding.
At Bahia Honda State Park on Big Pine Key some camping is available, some of the beach area is open, and the snorkel boats are going out again. But the park’s crown jewel, the Sandspur beach and campsite, will be closed until 2020. Visitor numbers are still down heading into the second season post Irma.
“It took out all the infrastructure down there,” Park Manager Eric Keifer says. “The parking lots, the restroom, the camping ground, the roads. We’re looking at another 18 months before that gets back on track. It was so hard to believe the amount of damage, the amount of sand that was moved around and the amount of trees that were down. It left you in awe at the power of the ocean and the storm.”
The shoreline is also still scarred by debris. The Conch Republic Marine Army, has removed 113 tons of man-made materials from along the shoreline, but there’s an estimated 1,000 tons overall.
Keogh sits on the board. He says many of the tourists who have travelled to the Keys since Irma have assisted with the efforts. “Church groups, school groups and just regular folks would rent kayaks from us just to help clean up the mangroves. They kept the Big Pine economy afloat by coming down here and helping out,” he says.
Keogh survived the “worst season ever” thanks to 30 years of diligently saving for this eventuality. However, some business owners haven’t weathered the storm.
Craig McBay of the Florida Keys Brewing Company recounts a story of a local tackle shop. “They told us that after September 11, business went down but they survived. After the crash, business went down but they survived. After this one they were done.”
For McBay the storm threatened a still-young operation, but also provided impetus. Prior to the storm, the brewing company operated from a small, tucked away Oceanside taproom on Islamorada, only distributing beers like the popular Iguana Bait kölsch to bars and restaurants in the Keys.
“After the storm hit we knew a lot of our accounts were going to be hurt. So we decided to start distributing beer outside of the Keys,” he says. The Iguana Bait and other beers are now available in five Florida counties.
The storm also gave the brewery the initiative required to begin construction work on its new taproom, which opened in March and is more visible to passing traffic. “We’re not seeing the growth we were, but we’re still seeing some growth,” McBay says.
Even for businesses like Craig’s that adapted to survive Irma, there’s a new normal. Longtime residents are pursuing that new normalcy. Whether it’s through cleanup operations, affordable housing initiatives, or the efforts to return places to their past beauty, everyone is working to salvage the unique character of the islands.
“I’m from Panama City, Florida,” sighs Mike Laurent of the Community Land Trust. “I feel blessed to be a part of this project, but I feel torn that my hometown just went through the same thing.”
In the Florida panhandle, battered by Hurricane Michael in October this year. This new normal is still an entire year away.
