Gotta admit I did a triple take last week when I saw five 8-inch, bright green critters with their shiny inquisitive eyes tucked deep into a small hammock of Bermuda grass near my tent. Nah. Can’t be. Fort Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas doesn’t have iguanas.

Hermit crabs? Yeah, by the thousands. Daytime gnats? By the millions. The occasional rat that’s escaped the rangers’ bait traps? Sure. But iguanas? Nah. They’re like Fort Jefferson mosquitoes. There aren’t any. Well, except there the iguanas were, along with a slightly larger and more ambitious sibling that had found itself flummoxed in the middle of a sandy path, clueless about how to continue.

(A note for the purists: Yes, there are some mosquitoes that breed in brackish, salty water. With sea level rise and warming temps, scientists are tracking several types of mosquitoes that have adapted to saltwater. But not at Fort Jefferson, for the moment at least.)

Ranger Ed and I have camped at least annually at Fort Jefferson for a decade. We’ll keep doing it until we can’t get up off the ground mats in the middle of the night, set up a tent or schlep 150 pounds of food, water and gear. Fort Jefferson is a primitive camper’s forever home.

But there’s little remotely hospitable to people (or iguanas) on the seven-island chain 70 miles west of Key West. Built on Garden Key around 1846 for defense of shipping lanes, the isolated fort was an ideal place for the Union to hold Confederate prisoners and Union deserters during the  Civil War, while keeping an eye on naval traffic entering the Gulf of Mexico bound for New Orleans and other Southern ports. 

No fresh water (hence, no mosquitoes), then or now. No electricity. No internet service (and even a satellite connection these days is spotty). No trees except a half-dozen raggedy palms and three or four magnificent ancient buttonwoods that double as “the campground” and the one corner of “beach shade.” A couple of modern-day compost toilets, hard-packed sand and coral shards — and a handkerchief-sized gift shop, which admittedly does come with air conditioning.

Fort Jefferson iguanas | As welcome as entitled campers

Seeing those iguanas last week was about as welcome as last year’s I-am-so-entitled sideshow from the camper next door. Off his private boat he came, laden down with a gasoline-fueled generator big enough to power through a hurricane, along with tents, a portable kitchen, chairs, food (Did he have water? Not sure.) and assorted 21st century trappings, including a CPAP and a satellite phone.

I’ll admit we watched from our front-row seats as he got that generator hooked up and running, staked out the tents and started on the kitchen. We let him have at it for at least an hour, knowing full well there’d soon be a visit from the park ranger.

• Park ranger: “Can’t use the generator.”
• Camper: “Whatdaya mean? My buddy needs his CPAP tonight or he’ll die. I need the sat phone for work. And how’re we gonna cook?”
• Park ranger shrugs politely: “No gasoline or generators allowed.”
• Camper standing defeated like a child after the birthday packages have been unwrapped: “Huff.”

He and his buddy survived the night, departing at the crack of dawn.

I’m guessing the Fort Jefferson iguanas won’t be so easily dissuaded. Though they’d rather snack on Key West hibiscus, mangoes and your ornamental plants, appropriate your swimming pool for their toilet and undermine your foundations, iguanas are opportunistic creatures. They’ll happily chew on insects, wild bird eggs, fish and other lizards and small animals. (Don’t forget Fort Jeff is a major nesting stopover for migrating birds.) The massive brick fort itself is a luxury mansion for burrows, tunnels and nests.

Because they’re fascinating to watch and fun to chase if you’re a kid up for the run, most campers and day-trippers ooh and aah over them. Meanwhile, I’m in my camp chair wondering if they’re too small to shoot. (They are, plus no guns allowed. And no, I couldn’t bring myself to stomp on them.)

It won’t be long before unwitting, albeit good-hearted, visitors are putting out snacks and little bowls of fresh water. Soon thereafter these non-native, invasive green lizards are gonna be 6 feet and 20 pounds of campsite-marauding, salmonella-shedding pests, just like the ones at Fort Zach, the Key West Cemetery and your yard.

Assuming the 2025 government shutdown eventually ends, the National Park Service, which manages Fort Jefferson, will do what it’s gotta do to control the iguanas, as they have with the rats. Without asking, I assure you there will be no catch-and-release.

PS: I was too enthralled watching to grab my camera, so, yeah, you’ll have to take my word for it. Next year they’ll be big enough for selfies. Cover photo is AI-generated.