The allure of the open ocean has inspired and tantalized humans throughout history. Explorers set out in search of the unknown across unmapped expanses of sea with only a hunch and a hope of discovering land somewhere along the way. Entire villages and economies were created around fishing with the sea providing – or withholding – sustenance for families and coastal communities. Daring early pioneers braved the seas in handmade boats, from the Maori in New Zealand with their waka (wooden canoes often outfitted with sails) to the natives in the Keys brazenly piloting the passage to Cuba in dugout canoes. Civilization seems to be eternally drawn to the mysterious depths in search of adventure, potential discoveries, and reliable sources of food.

From early morning fishing boat departures, to lazy afternoon kayak paddles through the mangroves, our proximity to the water offers endless opportunities to explore an area we’d otherwise miss. Even amidst the sometimes raucous activity of downtown Key West, the ocean is a constant presence allowing access to the city by boat – whether it be a tiny dinghy launched from your live-aboard vessel anchored offshore, one of the many charter fishing boats lining the marinas, to a colossal cruise ship pulling into port ready to disgorge throngs of eager visitors for an afternoon ashore.

To aid in our own tiny ocean exploration, the nearby Geiger Key Marina offers kayak and paddle boards to rent either hourly or for an incredibly affordable monthly rate. Ashley’s wanted to try paddle boarding (at least) ever since we started RVing last year, so she’s recently taken advantage of the monthly rental option. A stand up paddle board (SUP) offers a unique view of the waterways through the mangroves, surprisingly different than even in a kayak. I haven’t attempted the SUP, but I’ve accompanied Ashley a few times in a kayak and it’s always interesting to see the kinds of photos she’ll take while on the paddle board.

The SUP is versatile – while designed for standing (obviously), the pilot can also kneel, sit, or even lay down depending on the wind and tidal conditions. While standing, Ashley has a different viewing perspective into the water and can more easily spot sea life and interesting features on the ocean floor as opposed to my typical straight-ahead over the water view from the kayak. As we begin planning our departure from the Keys, we know we’ll already miss the ease of going out for a morning paddle. Ashley can hop on her bike, pedal to the marina, and be out on a paddle board in less than 20 minutes. We’ve enjoyed trips from our current RV parking space by simply grabbing the double kayak, paddles, and appropriate safety gear and launching into the canal for a warm-up paddle to the marina for breakfast, followed by a longer exploration on SUP and kayak through the surrounding mangrove clusters.

I continue to enjoy fishing (Ashley might add “my current obsession with” to that statement), which is more easily accomplished on kayak rather than SUP simply because of the gear setup in the kayak (rod holders on the seat, place to store a cooler, pockets for tackle and other gear, etc.). But people do fish from a paddle board, and I’ve seen some impressive setups during some brief internet searches – although I have yet to see any anglers on SUPs in person. The kayak provides a hopeful angler with both transportation and a portable workstation when venturing from the drier, more stable platform of solid ground. Mangrove or gray snappers are common here in the Keys, and they are most easily found in schools hiding among the roots of the mangrove trees (hence their name, unsurprisingly). Paddling a kayak into one of the many mangrove coves allows a better opportunity to catch a large gray snapper than by simply fishing from shore (although I caught my biggest mangrove snapper in the canal by standing on the seawall – go figure).

Kayak fishing carries an inherent sense of uncertainty, especially when venturing further out to sea to fish a nearby reef. Anchored in 20 feet of water on a calm day as the ocean swells gently lift your kayak sounds kind of relaxing. Adding a baited hook tied to a line dangling from your fishing rod waiting to catch an unknown variety and size of fish swimming in the dark waters below makes things a bit more interesting. Actually hooking a fish, or even a small shark, transforms the experience into a performance act of balance and strength, as well as a lesson in Newton’s third law, as the fish pulls against your line, you pull back against the fish, and your anchor either holds or gets dragged along behind your kayak depending on the size and ferocity of the fish. Suppose you actually get your catch up to the kayak – you then have to determine the type and size of fish to know whether or not you can legally keep it, before attempting to wrestle it into your cooler while avoiding sharp teeth and spines, your own hook, accidentally dropping your rod overboard, or tipping the kayak. Some days, fishing from dry land can be a relaxing, meditative experience while fishing from a kayak is an effort in survival.

The waters around Key West are now home to yet another boat, as Ashley’s father’s vessel has been completed and retrieved from the dealer. On the morning he picked up the boat, we eagerly loaded his car with a few fishing rods and a bit of gear for a shakedown cruise back to his house. Quite a step up from a kayak, the new boat is outfitted with a motor (of course) and fancy electronics to aid in navigation, provide entertainment, and help to locate fish. We spent some time figuring out the new systems and enjoyed two brief fishing trips before he had to return to his northern home. We hooked mangrove, lane, mutton, and yellowtail snappers, grouper (which were too small and out of season, regardless), grunts, and more sharks than I care to reel in again anytime soon. Sure, it’s fun to fight a shark and it provides a bit of exercise – but I like to catch fish I can eat, rather than simply fish for sport. I’ve longingly looked at the boat every day since, patiently waiting for the captain to return and lead us on more fishing adventures.

Our time here has lead both of us to realize that if and when we decide to put down roots again in a fixed location, we’d like to be close to a body of water of some kind – not necessarily the ocean, maybe a large lake or wide river could probably fill our desire. The sea certainly has its appeal, proven time and again throughout history and easily witnessed in the present day as people take to the water for entertainment, escape, and even to make a living. Maybe it’s an innate human desire to explore the unknown, felt more strongly by part of the population, or some primal calling that draws us to the ocean. Maybe it’s simply the feel of the hot sun and the gentle lapping of the waves on the sand that entice us out of our climate-controlled cocoons and away from the artificial lights and constant distractions of technology. Time spent at sea, on a lake, and in the river can be both rejuvenating and exhausting. And maybe it’s that simple dichotomy which attracts people to the water and helps us realize more of what it means to be alive than to just simply live.