Seventy miles west of Key West, reachable only by boat or seaplane, stands the largest brick structure in the Western Hemisphere: sixteen million bricks on a sand island, begun in 1846 and never finished. The park around it is 99 percent open water.
Dry Tortugas is one of 63 national parks in ParkStamp, and like every park it gets original stamp designs drawn in the WPA poster tradition: each one is an illustration of a specific real place, in this case places you mostly reach by water.
Recording the visit is free. Check in from the island, add the trip you took years ago, or let the app read dates and locations from the photos already on your phone.
The name is older than almost any other on a US map. Ponce de León sailed through in 1513 and called the islands Las Tortugas for the sea turtles his crew caught here. "Dry" was added to the charts later as a warning: there is no fresh water on any of these islands. Five centuries on, both halves of the name are still accurate.
Fort Jefferson was obsolete before it was finished. Construction started in 1846 to command the shipping lane between the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic: whoever held the Tortugas anchorage could shelter a fleet astride the Mississippi trade. Work ran for three decades, consumed some sixteen million bricks, and stopped without ever completing the fort, partly because rifled artillery had made thick masonry walls pointless. It never saw battle.
Its most famous resident arrived in chains. During and after the Civil War the fort served as a military prison, and its best-known inmate was Dr. Samuel Mudd, convicted of conspiracy for setting John Wilkes Booth's broken leg after the Lincoln assassination. When yellow fever swept the garrison in 1867 and killed the post surgeon, Mudd took over the care of the men guarding him. President Johnson pardoned him in 1869.
Franklin Roosevelt put the park system in charge in 1935, proclaiming Fort Jefferson National Monument that January, and Congress redesignated it Dry Tortugas National Park on October 26, 1992. It remains one of the least visited parks in the country (under a hundred thousand people a year) for the same reason it stays worth visiting: seventy miles of open water between it and the nearest road.
Sooty terns own Bush Key. Tens of thousands of them nest on the little island beside the fort, the only major sooty tern rookery in the continental United States. The birds themselves are stranger than the spectacle: young sooty terns leave the colony and stay out over the open ocean for years without touching land, sleeping on the wing, before returning here to breed.
Magnificent frigatebirds nest on Long Key, the species' only significant breeding colony in the continental United States. With a seven-foot wingspan on a body that weighs about as much as a chicken, frigatebirds barely ever flap, hanging over the anchorage like kites and robbing other seabirds of their catch mid-air.
The turtles are still here. Loggerhead and green sea turtles nest on the park's beaches every summer, five centuries after they fed Ponce de León's crew and named the place. The surrounding shallows, seagrass meadows and coral heads in famously clear water, work as a nursery for reef fish, nurse sharks and the occasional enormous goliath grouper.
The six-sided fortress that covers nearly all of Garden Key: sixteen million bricks, three gun tiers, and a seawater moat you can walk around on top of the moat wall. Started in 1846, never finished, never attacked. The arched brick casemates run in receding rows like a hall of mirrors, and the whole improbable mass sits on sand in the middle of the sea.
The largest island in the group, three miles from the fort, with a brick lighthouse that has stood over it since 1858. From 1904 to 1939 the Carnegie Institution ran its Tortugas Laboratory here, doing some of the earliest serious coral reef science in the hemisphere. Pick it for the lonely-lighthouse composition: one tower, one sand island, open ocean to the horizon.
The 99 percent of the park that is underwater: seagrass beds and patch reefs in shallow, glass-clear water, snorkelable straight off the beach at Garden Key and along the moat wall. Off Loggerhead Key lies the Windjammer wreck, an iron-hulled sailing ship lost in 1901, resting in water shallow enough to explore with a mask and fins.
Open ParkStamp inside the park boundary and check in. The app confirms you are actually there and logs the date.
Already been? Pick the date yourself. Trips from decades ago count the same as last weekend.
Let ParkStamp read the dates and locations off photos already on your phone. Most people find parks they had forgotten.