Shinkevich, a Michigan native who retired in 1986 to this island community of about 5,000, is not alone. While the eclectic locals of Key West have long bemoaned cruise ships, retail chains and skyrocketing property values, discontent over the environmental, economic and cultural impacts of tourism is spreading up the 100-mile necklace of islands to communities like Big Pine, Summerland Key, Tavernier and Marathon.
A year ago, citizens on many of the outer islands fought successfully to strengthen a Monroe County ordinance banning home rentals of less than 28 days. [Florida Trend, March 1999]. Advocates such as Shinkevich, who serves as chairman of a confederation of civic and environmental groups called the Florida Keys Citizens Coalition, successfully argued -- despite heated, often vituperative debate -- that the ban on short-term rentals would prevent hard-partying tourists from invading residential neighborhoods.
The ban is working after a fashion (visitors are still coming, but are opting for hotels). Now, however, a new proposal is rocking the Keys' tiny communities like a Category 5 Hurricane. Hoping to slow the flow of tourists, activists last fall began pushing officials to reduce, or even suspend, the county-funded marketing campaign that promotes the Keys as a vacation paradise. Supporters say the campaign is too successful, bringing more visitors than the Florida Keys can support.
Whether the marketing campaign is responsible or not, the Keys has become a hot destination. Last year nearly 3-million tourists visited, an increase of 15% in just three years. On any given day, the region's population of 81,000 swells to 130,000. Nearly half of the local workforce now depends on the tourism trade for their livelihoods, and hundreds of workers are bused in each day from Miami-Dade County to work in the hotels, restaurants and gift shops. Monroe County's unemployment rate of 1.9% last year was the lowest in Florida, well below the state average of 3.9%.
Tourists spend an estimated $1.3 billion each year in the Florida Keys, but the impact leaves a big wake. Last year officials closed Key West's beaches when fecal bacteria from the island's overtaxed sewage system fouled local waters. Farther up the island chain, pollution and the stress of recreational boating, diving and fishing are blamed for damaging the delicate offshore reef system. "The fish are being depleted. The reefs are dying. People worry when they go for a swim. I don't call that paradise," moans Barry Patterson, a long-time Key Largo resident and civic activist.
Keeping the Keys unique
Other residents worry that the unique island character is degenerating into Anywhere, America. Two years ago, Home Depot opened its first store in Monroe County, replacing smaller retailers, and chains like Holiday Inn, Hampton Inn and Days Inn have also moved into the county to compete with small, independent "mom and pop" motels. Meanwhile, a chronic shortage of affordable housing drives away many of the artists, drifters and other mainland dropouts who have long flavored the islands' culture. Since 1970 the cost of rental housing has jumped an astonishing 14% a year. "Greed," says Patterson, a native New Zealander who moved here in 1980, "is ruining the Keys."
Under those circumstances, say the activists, it makes sense to turn down the hype and curtail tourism marketing. Each year, a county-wide bed tax generates about $10 million that's used to promote the Keys as a vacation spot. Citizens groups throughout the Keys are asking the county commission to siphon half of the tax revenues to acquire sensitive lands and to fund capital projects such as bridge repairs and beach renourishment. The plan, they say, is a win-win: Tourists will still help pay for repairing infrastructure, while the smaller marketing budget will help reduce visitor totals to a more manageable level. The Monroe County Commission is awaiting the results of a voter opinion survey due out early this year before considering the measure. Shinkevich, on behalf of the Citizens Coalition, says if the "will of the people" is not followed, he'll launch a campaign to repeal the bed tax entirely.
Not everyone supports the proposal, however. In Marathon, the county's second largest community with about 11,000 full-time residents, some tourism industry veterans say a reduction in tourism advertising could be their death knell. At the Hidden Harbour Motel, a 22-unit strip of concrete-block cubicles built in 1949, owner Richie Moretti calculates it this way: "If (the county) spends less on advertising, I've got to spend more. Where do I get the money? I guess I could cut my maintenance budget or reduce my staff, but if I do that, how long will I stay in business?" Moretti, 56, who retired here in 1983 with a cushy nest egg, says the motel and an adjacent video store generate about $500,000 a year in sales. He uses the small profit he earns to support an emergency medical clinic for sick and injured sea turtles.
Growing frustration
Moretti, like other long-time residents of the outer islands, believes the crush of tourists is literally passing him by. Marathon once supported a loyal, if seasonal, following of blue-collar Northerners who came for weeks at a time to fish, dive and gaze at the sunsets. Today, he says, the island is largely a pit stop for upscale visitors making the dash to Key West from points north. He argues that the county's marketing budget should remain intact, with a greater share used to target middle-income tourists -- "real people," as he calls them -- who are more likely to fill the modest rooms and amenities of communities outside the glitz and glare of Key West.
Somewhere in the middle sits County Commissioner George Neugent, who, like almost everyone here, is a semi-retired transplant who found himself in the Keys and fell in love with the place. A petroleum engineer from Houma, La., Neugent, 50, wandered to Marathon in 1983 and now owns two restaurants -- a local haunt called the 53rd Street Dock & Deli and the more tourist-oriented Porky's Bayside. Neugent believes that tourism is taking its toll on the environment, but he also recognizes its importance. Sipping a cup of coffee at his deli a block off U.S. 1, Neugent argues that Marathon and other island communities have a stable enough tourism base to remain economically viable. Rather than working to attract more visitors, he says, the county should try to better manage the existing load. Meanwhile, he says, small business owners, like Moretti, need to do a better job tapping into the existing market -- changing with the times -- just like any other industry.
Last November Marathon voted to incorporate, leaving the county's municipal umbrella. Many residents believe the measure's overwhelming approval reflects the community's growing frustration over tourism. "People are thrilled that we'll be making our own decisions, locally, right here in Marathon," says Neugent. "But the enthusiasm may not last. These are all very tough problems and there are no simple solutions."