Wanderbrush

The light filtered softly through the tent, waking us at a gentle 7 a.m. The night had been calm — waves crashing in the distance, a crystal-clear sky stretching above us, stars shining uninterrupted. It was our second and final day at the park, and we wanted to make the most of the few quiet hours left on the island. The ferry wouldn’t arrive until 10:30, so we had time — not much, but just enough — to soak in the stillness.

While Mason got ready, I slipped out for a solo morning walk around the edge of the park. I hadn’t explored much of Fort Jefferson the day before, so I took my time wandering within its historic brick walls. The early light cast long, golden shadows, and the whole place felt like it had been paused in time.

Afterward, I made my way toward the shoreline — first North Beach, then South Beach, and every little cove and quiet stretch of sand in between. The beaches still felt untouched, as if no one else had set foot there in days. I paused often to snap pictures, not wanting to forget the colors, the calm, or the way the breeze made this place feel like our own private oasis for the night. 

I snapped as many photos as I could, trying to capture the way the morning light painted the park — soft gold on old brick, quiet shadows across the sand.

Once I’d soaked in every last bit of stillness, I made my way back to our campsite.

We had to have all of our gear packed and down at the dock before the ferry arrived, so we took our time gently dismantling the little home we’d made for ourselves over the past 24 hours. Bit by bit, we packed everything up — folding, rolling, brushing off the sand — and carried it down to the dock.

With that done, we set up a new kind of camp on the beach for the rest of the morning. No tent this time, just towels, snacks, and the wide, open stretch of sand and sea. 

Mason and I made our way down to the water for one last round of snorkeling. We followed the moat wall, gliding side by side until we reached North Beach. The water was clear and calm, and we pointed out sea creatures to each other as we swam. By the time we had returned to South Beach, the ferry was just arriving to the island with a new batch of eager visitors to the park.

We packed up our little beach setup and made our way back to the fort, this time with the intention of slowing down and really taking it in. We wandered through the brick corridors and open courtyards, pausing to read about the history as we went — letting the place speak a little more clearly before we left it behind.

After soaking up one last stretch of time in this beautiful national park, we made our way back to the ferry. We were drawn in by the promise of lunch and, more importantly, the sweet relief of long-awaited air conditioning. We found a spot on the upper deck, dropped our bags, and settled in. As the engines hummed to life, we gazed out at the island, its outline growing softer in the distance. The shimmering waters of the Keys surrounded us, crystal-clear and endlessly blue. They are a view that never, ever gets old.

We savored the slow, two-hour ferry ride back to Key West, letting the hum of the boat and the sea breeze lull us into a quiet daze. After a full and sun-drenched 24 hours, we knew dinner would be our top priority once we docked around 5 p.m.—followed closely by an early night.

When we docked, we waited patiently for our gear to be dropped on the dock for us to transport back to our cars. We loaded up our totes and coolers and made our way over to our selected restaurant for the night. Half Shell Oyster Bar.

Half Shell Oyster Bar was the perfect way to satisfy our hunger after our camping excursion. It was a laid-back and casual waterfront resturant that allowed us views of the marina while indulging in some fresh seafood. I opted for a steamed seafood platter while Mason got an oyster po’ boy.

One item on the menu immediately caught my eye — the Oyster Shooter. It promised a souvenir shot glass, but with a catch: the shot itself was a bold mix of jalapeño vodka, cocktail sauce, and a whole oyster. Intrigued by the challenge (and tempted by the keepsake), I decided to go for it — a strange little adventure in a glass, with a souvenir to prove it.

After I managed to choke down the shot, we all did one final round of souvenir shopping — small tokens to remember the trip by — before preparing to say our goodbyes to Key West the next morning. It was around this time that we parted ways with M&K. While they began the long journey back home, we set off toward our third and final Florida park, not quite ready for the adventure to end.

Our next stop, Biscayne National Park.