What keeps getting more apparent is all the miles that go into creating the 115-mile-long Overseas Highway have stories to tell. Naturally, some miles have more to share than others.
Mile Marker 22, crossing Cudjoe Key, is an interesting stretch that leads to conversations about Fat Albert, square grouper, and, on a personal note, my favorite dessert served in the Florida Keys. Spoiler alert: it is not Key lime pie.
As with most of the islands making up the archipelago, Cudjoe Key was not the first name given to it. In 1772, William Gerald De Brahm’s chart identified it as Littleton Island. According to F.H. Gerdes’ 1849 pamphlet, “Reconnaissance of the Florida Reef and all the Keys,” the island was simply called Cudjoe’s. Why the name Cudjoe came to be is something of a debate.
Some suggest the island was named after a person named Cudjoe, who once lived there.
Others suggest it was named for Jacquinia keyensis, an evergreen shrub that can grow to more than 10 feet tall. It is slow-growing but adept at island living and highly tolerant of drought, salt and wind. The plant, too, has tiny, fragrant white flowers that bees, wasps and other pollinators find attractive.
Sometimes, it is called Joewood. In 1989, city officials on Sanibel Island, in hopes of raising awareness about Joewood, declared it Sanibel’s official city plant. Jacquinia keyensis is also known as ironwood and cudjoewood. Cudjoewood is both native and common in the Florida Keys, which might be why the island found at MM 22 became known as Cudjoe Key. It is home to Fat Albert, a tethered aerostat (a small, white blimp-looking object) floating 10,000 feet over the island.
One of Fat Albert’s jobs is broadcasting TVMarti. In addition to other Western propaganda, it is rumored that episodes of the titillating California lifeguard drama “Baywatch” are projected through the Cuban airwaves. Fat Albert was not the first government project developed on Cudjoe Key. The island has an often-overlooked history of being used by the government.
Cudjoe Key’s first military base began developing in the late 1950s. In the Dec. 31, 1958, edition of the Miami Herald, a story reported that a “new million-dollar missile tracking station was going to be built at Cudjoe Key.” The base was developed as a radar and communications station to aid in the monitoring of aircraft over the Gulf of Mexico; it served as an extension of Eglin Air Force Base, located in the area of Destin and Fort Walton Beach on Florida’s panhandle.
Among the things tracked were “advanced types of aircraft” and two models of BOMARC missiles launched from Eglin and tracked for both distance and accuracy across the Gulf of Mexico. Cudjoe Key Air Force Station 6947th Security Squadron and its 339 military personnel operated through the 1960s. When government cutbacks began in 1970, NAS Key West was saved because the weather was ideal for flight training, which is why fighter jets are still frequently seen screaming across the sky above the Florida Keys.
The Cudjoe Key base was reimagined. A “Balloon Radar Test” story appeared in the Aug. 29, 1970, Florida Today newspaper. “The Air Force plans to conduct tests to evaluate a balloon-borne radar in an air defense role at Cudjoe Key Air Force station in Monroe County beginning in about 45 days, Sen. Edward J. Gurney, R-Fla. said. The test will continue through the summer of 1971.”
In the early 1970s, a project called “Seek Skyhook” was implemented at Cudjoe Key. The idea was based on a Civil War-era tactic of placing an observer in a tethered hot air balloon. Floating high in the air, the soldier would have an advantageous position to watch for enemy movements. The Seek Skyhook project placed a tethered aerostat radar system on the island that has been used primarily for drug interdiction. The aerostat was nicknamed Fat Albert.
One of Fat Albert’s jobs has been to identify potential drug smuggling operations, which led to the subsequent influx of square groupers into the local waters. “Square grouper” is the local language describing a bale of drugs found floating out on the high seas or washing ashore.
Generally bound in plastic and waterproof tape, the square shapes of cocaine and marijuana are not infrequently spotted in the local waters.
Why are they in the water? Sometimes, they are dumped because of engine trouble or because federal agents are in pursuit. While driving over MM 22, the subject of square groupers may spark up when driving past one of my favorite restaurants in the Florida Keys, the Square Grouper. The restaurant’s logo is a blue, square grouper smoking a joint.
Also, they take the square grouper theme pretty seriously. In addition to hanging a great array of pictures of the infamous grouper on the walls inside, they open for dinner service at the classic stoner time of 4:20 p.m. Upstairs, there is a tapas menu, a raw bar and a cocktail lounge called My New Joint. The Square Grouper also serves what I consider the best dessert in the Florida Keys, a chocolate peanut butter pie that is always the high point of every visit.
If you want to learn more about square grouper, Billy Corben produced an excellent film about marijuana smuggling operations in the 1970s. The 2011 documentary is called “Square Grouper: The Godfathers of Ganja.” I give it five out of five joints.
In 2025, I’ll be exploring the Overseas Highway, its history, attractions, and points I find interesting.
