KEY WEST, FL: Naked & Loving It

NAKED AND LOVING IT!

Written by: David Perry

Photos by: David Perry

Key West locals call it “the Backcountry.” I call it “an Enya video.” On the map, it is the shallow stretch of sea west of Key West itself, where the Gulf of Mexico flows into the Straits of Florida.

Once there, I found it was a veritable symphony of blues: robin’s egg for the sky; a shifting swirl of cerulean, azure, and aqua for the water. Even turquoise and arctic blue, where the sandbars rolled close to the surface. There were no islands around, nothing to break the glass-flat horizon line. Everything was quiet and smooth and blue.

And naked. I was naked, the people with me were naked, the crew of the Blu Q catamaran we were all on was naked, most of us were hammered, and I am sure at least two people on that boat were porn stars. This is Key West. Gay Key West. Eat your heart out, Enya.

The Party Never Ends

It was my first time in Key West, and I had heard a lot of stories: it’s a beach, a bacchanal, a bar-hopping bonanza…the last of which was strongly hinted at when I was in the airport restroom and over the urinal was an ad for a hangover cure service. Had one too many? These helpful folks will make a house call, IVs at the ready. They’ll rehydrate you, jazz you up with electrolytes and other bio-wazzits, and presto! You can do it all over again come brunch. Bars open at 10 AM, so jazz accordingly.

But it also has a history. Key West got its gay on early — the first gay resort opened in 1967. Even before, Tennessee Williams and Leonard Bernstein bought homes here in 1941, attracted by the fact the island was far from prying eyes and its live-and-let-live attitude.

Straight luminaries like Ernest Hemingway even jumped in. By the 1970s, Key West was one of the very few gay-friendly retreats in the country that was honest about it and with a straight population that was acceping of it.

This is why, in the plague years of the 1980s, HIV+ gay men descended in their thousands on Key West to live out their final days under the Florida sun, cocktails in hand till the end. Then came December 6, 1995, and the AIDS combination drug therapy began; gay men who had all but accepted their fate suddenly found themselves facing a completely different scenario: longevity. Faced with an average lifespan, gays who had come to Key West to die found themselves the founding fathers of a living, breathing community that thrives to this day. With cocktails.

A Gay In The Life

The Great Gay Glow-Up has gone gonzo ever since, and just try and find a locale on Key West that isn’t run by, involved with, derived from, or owes its existence to the gays, and later, the full LGBTQ+ acronym.

The island’s entire social calendar revolves around gay/gayesque events: August with Tropical Heat, followed by Womenfest in September, which passes the baton to Fantasy Fest, a flesh-filled phantasmagoria in October. But Key West can get so gay that it leads to an embarrassing question: where does a noob like me start?

Unlike most gay beach resorts, Key West has no gay beach — almost all of the action is in town. Duval Street is the spine of Key West, lined end to end with places to go (be kicked out of), people to meet (once and never again), and things to do (that you will deny later).

The gay gets going at the intersection of Duval and Petronia, set off by its four-way rainbow crosswalk, but I still minded the rainbow flags; a bustling bevy of bodacious boozeries, over 100, jostle for attention in a stretch of just five blocks, some of them straight.

A few are literally out of this world; the Flaming Buoy is probably the only gay “Star Wars” themed eatery I’ve ever experienced. A little more down to Earth is La Te Da, where I met the legendary Christoper Peterson, whose stage show had him bouncing from Marilyn Monroe to Liza Minnelli to Reba McEntire. But after a slip of the tongue, I was schooled; Peterson is not a drag queen, but a female impersonator. His fans learned me quickly.

Even more than divas, I like dives…gay ones if I can find them. In Key West, that’s Bobby’s Monkey. Famed for its out-of-control karaoke, this place, with its creaking floor and chandelier made out of dolls, is militantly “low rent;” do not even think of ordering anything frozen or with more than three ingredients.

Clear those hurdles and behold the wonder that is a $3 gin and tonic served in a pint glass. In my native New York, where the same drink at half the size can cost $15, this was a revelation. No wonder there’s a hangover service.

What Plays in Key West…

But all gay life in Key West truly revolves around the Island House. Practically self-contained (hotel, bar, gym, steam room, pool, naked) to the point there is no compelling reason to leave it, the Island House is the oldest gay retreat on the island, going back to the pre-drug 1980s. Back then, it was a defiant beacon of gay resilience. It still is, only with the added bonus of permanence. But, being true to its early roots, the cocktails are never far away. I recommend the Mai Tai. I blame the reputation I now have on them completely.

So you might wonder why I stayed at the Equator Resort. It is just as gay, just as naked, but far more low-key and quiet. The Equator, in fact, epitomizes the “hidden Key West”: Leave Duval Street and the island slows down fast. Even one block over is a seismic shift into leafy lanes and gingerbread houses. It has been over 100 years since a hurricane directly hit the island, meaning much of its old-timey architecture remains intact. With its white clapboard and filigreed columns, the Equator fits right in.

It was that quaint quietude that drew me. The Island House was for the party, the Equator was for the vacation. What can I say? Maybe I’m just one of those guys who likes his partying and pooping-out separately. Or maybe it’s because it’s 4 AM, there’s a distressingly good-looking man in the pool by himself, and he has two cocktails. One of which he’s offering me. And we’re naked.

This is Key West. Gay Key West. Eat your heart out, Enya.