Coral Reef State Park: Reef That Refused to Quit
Some reefs have opinions. Florida’s refuses to be ignored.
Somewhere off Key Largo, the coral reefs had their own stubborn streak. They didn’t just survive the storms, the tourists, the careless anchors—they conspired.
John Pennekamp noticed it first. Not the coral itself, but the way the fish seemed to wink when he swam by. A flash here. A shimmer there. A quiet chorus of bubbles that almost sounded like laughter.
Florida didn’t protect the reef because it was loud. It protected it because the reef demanded it. And Pennekamp, stubborn as the coral itself, refused to look away.
The Coral That Stood Its Ground
It’s one thing for coral to survive hurricanes. That’s normal. But Florida coral? It has attitude. When developers came with dredges and dynamite, some of the branching coral would move just out of reach, wriggling like a stubborn octopus. Scientists pretended it was an imagination. Tourists assumed it was a trick of the sunlight.
But those who stayed quiet, who watched, knew the truth: this reef had a personality.
America’s First Underwater Park… By Negotiation
When Florida created the park, Pennekamp didn’t just ask politely. He argued with the coral on the reef’s behalf. “Protect them!” he muttered under his snorkel, pointing at a particularly bossy brain coral. The coral nodded. Almost imperceptibly. But it nodded.
Glass-bottom boats were allowed. Divers too. But the coral set the rules: stay off that ledge, don’t touch the fan coral, and for heaven’s sake, no anchoring on the humor coral. That last one was new. Scientists still don’t know how it got its name.
The Reef That Teaches You
Today, the coral still has lessons. Swim slowly. Watch carefully. Some fish will dart around you like they’re checking if you’re worthy. A stray bubble might be a signal, a joke, or a polite warning: Florida has a long memory. So do its reefs.
The reef doesn’t care about men in office or laws in books. It cares about breathing, about lasting, about teaching anyone who’ll pay attention that patience and respect go a long way—even underwater.
What the Reef Tells Those Who Listen
Florida can surprise you quietly.
Sometimes survival isn’t loud—it’s subtle and stubborn.
Miracles exist if you notice them. And sometimes, just sometimes, they nod at you.
The reef didn’t need John Pennekamp. It needed people who would notice, and then listen.
And yes, sometimes, when the sunlight hits at the right angle, the coral winks again.
Share if you smiled. Until next time, watch the tide.
Earl Lee
