Paddling in Biscayne National Park

Biscayne National Park sits just south of Miami, where the mainland edge of South Florida meets the open Atlantic.

The park is 95% water — Biscayne Bay, a chain of keys, and offshore coral reefs — which means paddling isn't a side activity here, it's one of the primary ways to move through the place.

The water is shallow, warm, and largely protected from ocean swell, but it is not simple: tides run strong, open bay crossings expose paddlers to wind and chop, and boat traffic on weekends can be heavy in the narrower channels.

The main paddling grounds are the mangrove-fringed shorelines along the western edge of the bay, the lagoons and creeks south of Caesar Creek, and the waters around the outer keys.

Jones Lagoon is one of the most distinctive destinations — shallow, clear, and remote enough that motorized boats can't reach it, which means paddlers typically have it to themselves.

Rays, upside-down jellyfish, schools of fish, and wading birds are common here; a bird rookery in the area requires a 300-foot buffer.

Hurricane Creek, named because old-timers sheltered their boats there during storms, runs through mangrove tunnels where snorkeling beneath the roots reveals sea squirts, crabs, and anemones.

For paddlers willing to make the seven-mile crossing of Biscayne Bay, Elliott Key and Boca Chita Key are reachable destinations. Adams Key is a useful southern launching point for accessing the lagoons and channels in that area.

The main visitor launch is at Convoy Point, adjacent to the Dante Fascell Visitor Center, and is free; no permit is required for a day paddle. Overnight parking at Convoy Point requires a free permit from the visitor center.

Dry season — December through April — brings calmer water, better visibility, and fewer mosquitoes. Summer paddling is possible but afternoon storms build fast, and anyone heading out on open water should check the forecast before launching.

The park holds one of the longest uninterrupted stretches of mangrove shoreline on the U. S. East Coast.

That fact shapes the paddling: much of what makes this place worth the effort is slow, close, and quiet — the kind of thing you miss entirely from a powerboat.