Think of Florida and you’ll likely conjure up images of Miami Vice, David Beckham’s football club or theme parks like Walt Disney World and Universal Studios.
- Mauritius: the tropical island paradise where sustainable 5* tourism is saving wildlife
- Is flying ever ethical? The murky truth about carbon offsetting
- Huge “first-of-its-kind” rewilding project to bring back lost species and create ecotourism paradise in South Africa
But drive an hour south along US Route 1 through the Everglades National Park, and you’ll hit the Florida Keys, an archipelago of tropical islands that stretches nearly 200km towards Cuba, forming a barrier between the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean. They are, in essence, parts of an ancient coral reef exposed when sea levels receded, and are today home to some 80,000 people.
The third-largest barrier reef in the world has become intricately intertwined with the locals’ way of life. As well as the commercial and recreational fishing industries that rely on it, the abundance of tropical marine life that lives there is key to the tourism industry. And for the people who call the Keys home, the reef provides the first line of defence against fierce storms.
The development of wildlife friendly tourism
To the locals, the reef’s survival is interwoven with their own. They are witness to a world changing on their very doorstep, recalling in shocked tones the damage to the reef in recent summers. It is painfully obvious that something has to be done, which is what’s behind the Florida Keys Tourism Council’s new Eco-Experience Trail. Carol Shaughnessy is a PR representative for the council and a long-time local resident. We chat over coffee on the waterfront of a luxurious colonial-style resort, a fitting location to discuss the delicate balance between indulgence and sustainable tourism.
“There is an increasing drive to both experience the natural world and support it,” she tells me. “Almost all of our coral restoration entities, for example, have voluntourism programmes where vacationers can learn about coral restoration. If they’re divers, they can enter an in-water coral nursery and assist scientists.”
In this way, tourists are taking ownership of what’s happening on an environmental level. For Carol, the key to saving the Keys is to make tourists care enough to make a change – both in terms of the impact of their visit on the delicate ecosystems here, and in how they take what they’ve learned back to their day-to-day lives.
“It’s easier, perhaps, for people who are not closely surrounded by nature to be unaware of how our world is changing. If you don’t see green space for two weeks, you’re not going to be thinking, ‘Gosh, what’s happening with the green space?’” she says. “Here, we are surrounded by an environment that is one of the reasons that those of us who love the Keys, love the Keys.”
The Eco-Experience Trail digital pass supports this idea, connecting visitors with activities and tours that have eco credentials. “There’s a move, particularly among younger people, to non-passive and experiential opportunities,” Carol says. “Rather than getting on conveyance driven by someone else, you go paddleboarding or kayaking. You want to be a participant in your adventure.”
It’s easy to see why. There can be few locations that lay on such a wealth of wildlife in such a convenient manner. As I head south, the roadsides offer regular Key deer sightings – North America’s smallest deer is endemic to the Florida Keys – while Turkey vultures soar overhead. Billboards for eco-tours rival those for t-shirts and sunglasses in number, but the digital pass means we can make reservations with reputable operators in just a few seconds.
Journeying through the mangroves
To try it out, I’ve booked a series of activities. First up is kayaking through the mangroves of the brilliantly named No Name Key. My host, author, photographer and naturalist Bill Keogh, has lived in the Keys for two decades, and his expert local knowledge means we’re very quickly immersed in nature.
I clamber gracelessly onto my kayak, and a lemon shark fizzes off through the water. Bill highlights upside-down jellyfish, a variety of sponges and tunicates, and the groupers, mullets, snappers and barracudas sheltering in the mangroves. I’m so close to nature that it literally hits me in the head as, distracted by hundreds of mangrove tree crabs, I misjudge the opening to a creek.
The birdlife is as superb as the waterlife. Idling under the hot sun after emerging from a narrow channel, we watch white ibis, ahinga, roseate spoonbills, great egrets and no fewer than five species of heron. My attention is caught by an osprey overhead, and before I’ve had a chance to raise my camera, it dives, ripping a fish from the water just metres away. After just a couple of hours on the water, a list of my sightings fills two pages of my notebook.
So idyllic is the morning on the waters of the back country (the locals’ name for the Gulf of Mexico side of the Keys) that it’s easy to forget the problems facing the ocean. The next stop, which highlights what’s happening to Florida’s coral reefs, is more sobering.
I pull into a marina and locate the Mote Marine Laboratory Islamorada Coral Nursery, and meet nursery manager Louis Schlecker and community engagement manager Erin Muir.
How does tourism benefit wildlife projects?
“If you had come snorkelling or diving in the Florida Keys back in the 1970s, you would have seen acres and acres of coral with maybe 60-70 per cent living stony-coral cover,” says Erin. “Unfortunately, today we are down to about two to five per cent.”
Erin explains how the reef is experiencing death by a thousand cuts, sustaining damage from pollution as well as from historical fishing and diving practices. But today, the three biggest threats to the coral are warming ocean temperatures, ocean acidification and disease.
Coral grows slowly, and time is very much of the essence. This is why the team at Mote is pioneering a new cloning technique that can achieve 40-60 times the natural growth rate.
“We cut one coral up into nine or ten genetically identical corals,” Erin explains. “We then plant them out together in clusters of little plugs. As they start to grow together, they recognise themselves and fuse, creating a much larger coral much faster.”
This technique means coral can reach a sexually reproductive size in two to five years, a process that, in the wild, could take 20, 50 or even 100 years. It’s incredibly clever stuff.
And where do the tourists fit it? Well, every Florida Keys visitor pays a ‘bed tax’, and some of that revenue is ploughed into projects such as this. In 2023, Mote Marine Laboratory received just over $1 million.
Tourists can also help with replanting. As such, not only are they helping with the workload, but are also taking ownership of reef restoration in a very real way. Now, returning tourists are keen to take a fresh dive and see how ‘their’ patch has come along since they were last here.
- 'So much for protecting Arctic wildlife' – new Norwegian cruise restrictions are hypocritical, says Mark Carwardine
- Wildlife, sustainability, and cruise ship tourism in the Arctic
- Powerful before-and-after photos reveal "haunting" retreat of Arctic glaciers
How is tourism changing to help wildlife?
From the harbourside at Key West, crowds gather to watch the day’s final natural spectacle. The sky is daubed in bright oranges, reds and yellows, as the sun makes its way over the horizon, silhouetting late-returning boats. Brown and white pelicans bob on the jade waters, and as I listen to tourists recounting their sightings from a day on the water, I begin to anticipate the next day’s excursion.
Unlike many wildlife holidays, there’s no need to be up at the crack of dawn here, so after a lazy breakfast, I board an electric boat and head out into the bay. The wind has stirred up silt from the shallows, putting paid to plans for snorkelling – for many, the biggest attraction in the Florida Keys – but there’s still plenty to see. Diving birds in the distance alert the captain to the possible presence of dolphins. These marvellously monikered magnificent frigatebirds have long signalled to fishermen where to head for a catch. And where fish are at the surface, dolphins are sure to follow.
True enough, this is where we spot our first pod of Atlantic, or common, bottlenoses. I quickly spy two juveniles and an adult, but keener eyes than mine point out as many as eight individuals. But gone are the days when this would be the cue for guests to jump into the water. The crew made it clear before we set sail that we would act as observers, and if the dolphins wanted to swim near our boat, that would be their choice. No longer do boats follow dolphins, let alone allow passengers to swim with them. Luckily, these dolphins play around us for a good 20 minutes or so.
Once they’ve moved on, there’s time for a swim before we amble back to the harbour, encountering three more pods along the way. The murky waters mean any hope of seeing turtles or stingrays fades with the afternoon, but my disappointment is assuaged by the fact that I’m guaranteed a turtle encounter in the morning, albeit not in the bay.
How does wildlife tourism benefit turtles?
At 10am, I’m standing outside what looks like a typical 1950s motel, resplendent in Key lime green paint. But rather than advertising rooms or an evening cabaret, the sign out front confirms that I’ve arrived at the largest turtle hospital in the USA.
Once the latest group of visitors departs on a tour (guided tours run every 30 minutes, 365 days of the year), I chat to manager Bette Zirkelbach about how important tourism is to the hospital. She tells me that they are 100 per cent funded by these visits. “We happen to be in a beautiful place so it’s a great model of eco-tourism.”
And it’s not just the entry fees that benefit the turtles. Six of every ten rescue calls the hospital receives come from people that have visited the facility. Thanks to its educational tour, they can identify a turtle in need – and know who to call.
Most patients fall into one of two categories: they either suffer from a tumour-causing disease called fibropapillomatosis (FP), or have been struck by a boat. The team rehabilitate many of their patients, returning the majority to the wild.
As we look around the various tanks and pools, I ask Bette what it is about turtles that connects with people so much. “Turtles have survived on our planet for 110 million years, so they are really the canary in the coalmine for our marine ecosystems,” she explains. “What we see happening to them is eventually going to affect all our lives.”
Bette believes that education is key to connecting people with nature, and with education comes change. “You need people to buy in, right? You need them to care and I really see that with the sea turtles. Look at a turtle’s eyes – if you look at a coral, you just do not have the same reaction. If people care about sea turtles, they’ll want to protect the wider ocean ecosystem.”
It’s with reluctance that I head back north towards the Everglades, but I’m leaving with a real sense that positive change is happening in the Florida Keys, and that it’s tourism that is driving this change. I reflect on how Bette’s words chime with something Carol said to me about the drivers behind the Eco- Experience Trail: “We can all do little things that add up to be very, very big things. If we can encourage people to take little positive steps – wow, that’s a win-win.”
Paul visited the Florida Keys courtesy of America As You Like it.
Discover more
- I felt a “gut-wrenching, ever-present guilt that I wasn’t doing enough to save nature.” Eco-anxiety is on the rise - here's how to tackle it
- How to be a responsible wildlife traveller
- Did you know a common cold can kill a great ape? Why getting close to these primates can put them in danger
- Engaging local communities to boost mountain gorilla populations
