Kennedy Space Centre, situated on Florida's Space Coast, is America's premier space exploration destination — a working NASA facility and visitor complex that celebrates decades of human spaceflight through world-class exhibits, real hardware and immersive, behind-the-scenes experiences.
USA: Florida, Marathon – The Turtle Hospital
🐢 When the Turtles Have Had Enough of Humanity (And Honestly, Who Can Blame Them)
A cold front had blown through southern Florida and, frankly, it was making its presence known. Temperatures had dropped a good 20 degrees Fahrenheit below what they’d been just days earlier, and the wind was making an absolute nuisance of itself. Not ideal beach weather, even by the fairly forgiving standards of the Florida Keys in winter. Swimming was out. Lying about in the sun was out. We weren’t entirely defeated, though — we’d already had the foresight to plan something sensible, which for us represented a minor triumph of organisation.
We’d booked ourselves in for a visit to the Turtle Hospital in Marathon, a town sitting roughly in the middle of the Florida Keys chain, about 15 miles further down the Overseas Highway from where we were staying. Marathon itself is a fairly no-nonsense sort of place — not quite as touristy as Key West but still very much dependent on the sea for its identity. It sits on Vaca Key and grew into what it is largely because of the railway Henry Flagler pushed all the way down to Key West in the early 1900s. But we weren’t there for the railway history. We were there for the turtles.
The Turtle Hospital was established in 1986, which makes it one of the oldest sea turtle rehabilitation facilities of its kind in the world. It began life, rather brilliantly, as a motel — the Hidden Harbor Motel — and the swimming pool that once delighted holidaymakers was quietly repurposed into the first turtle tank. It has since grown considerably and is now a proper, licensed veterinary facility, though it still occupies the same slightly ramshackle collection of buildings that give it an endearing, slightly improvised feel.
The whole operation exists because sea turtles around the Florida Keys were, and continue to be, in a fairly desperate state. The Hospital takes in turtles suffering from a range of conditions, some of which nature can be blamed for, and some of which — the majority, in fact — are entirely down to us. The naturally occurring problems include fibropapillomatosis, a particularly grim viral disease that causes tumours to grow on and inside the turtles. These growths can appear on the eyes, mouth, and internal organs, and if left untreated they are frequently fatal. There is also what’s charmingly termed “lethargic turtle syndrome,” which is more or less exactly what it sounds like — turtles becoming dangerously inactive, often as a result of cold-stunning when water temperatures drop suddenly, which given the current weather felt rather poignant.
Then there are the injuries caused by humans, which account for the bulk of the Hospital’s caseload, and which are quite difficult to listen to without a growing sense of collective embarrassment. Boat strikes are a significant problem — pleasure craft moving at speed through the warm coastal waters clip turtles with their propellers, leaving the animals with deep lacerations and cracked shells. Fishing gear is another major hazard: turtles get tangled in nets, swallow fishing line, and ingest hooks. And then there is the general rubbish situation. Turtles eat jellyfish, and plastic bags floating in the water look, to a turtle, remarkably like jellyfish. They consume the bags. The bags block their digestive systems. They die. Cigarette butts, tossed overboard by the million, apparently look very much like shrimp to a hungry turtle. One has to admire the turtle’s optimism, even if the results are catastrophic.
On the day we visited, the Hospital was home to around 15 permanent residents — animals so severely injured or ill that returning them to the wild is simply not possible. A further 15 or so were temporary patients, receiving treatment with the aim of eventual release back into the sea. The four species represented in the tanks were the Green sea turtle, the Loggerhead, the Hawksbill, and the Kemp’s Ridley — all of them listed as either endangered or critically endangered, which is the kind of fact that lands differently when you’re standing a few feet away from one of them.
The Green sea turtles were the ones that really got your attention on account of sheer size. They can reach up to 350 pounds and have been swimming around these waters since long before Florida was called Florida, or indeed anything at all in English. The Kemp’s Ridley, by contrast, is the smallest of the sea turtle species and also the rarest — it was very nearly wiped out entirely in the 20th century and remains critically endangered despite decades of conservation effort.
It was, all things considered, a genuinely moving couple of hours. The staff were knowledgeable and passionate in that slightly intense way people who really care about something tend to be. The cold front rattling the buildings outside suddenly felt rather less important. Sometimes being rained off the beach turns out to be the best thing that could have happened.
🔬 Fish Hooks, Bubble Butts, and the Ones Who Never Made It Back
The tour began inside, with a presentation that covered the basics — what sea turtles actually eat (jellyfish, seagrass, sponges, depending on the species), where they range across the world’s oceans, and how the various residents of the Hospital had ended up there in the first place. It was well put together, the sort of thing that manages to be informative without making you feel like you’re being lectured at, which is harder to pull off than it sounds.
From there we were taken through the treatment rooms, which had the organised, purposeful atmosphere of any working veterinary facility, except with rather more unusual patients than your average cat or Labrador. The equipment was largely what you’d expect — examination tables, surgical instruments, monitoring gear — but what stopped us in our tracks were the X-rays pinned up for display. There, in clear black and white, were images of fish hooks lodged deep inside the bodies of turtles. Cigarette butts too, visible on the scans, sitting in digestive tracts where they absolutely should not have been. It’s one thing to be told that turtles swallow this sort of thing. It’s quite another to see the evidence of it hanging on a wall like the world’s most depressing art exhibition.
The mildly reassuring news, if you could call it that, was that sea turtle digestive systems appear to be remarkably resilient. In most cases the veterinary team had been able to remove the foreign objects either surgically or, where possible, by the rather less invasive method of administering natural lubricants and allowing things to, as it were, take their course. One imagines the turtles were not particularly grateful either way, but the survival rates were encouraging enough.
The final part of the tour was, of course, what we’d actually come for. The centrepiece of the whole operation is a large saltwater tank — originally built when the site was still a modest holiday resort, and used back then to display local fish for the entertainment of guests. The sea water feeds directly in from the ocean, which keeps it clean and properly saline, and the tank is now home to around twenty large sea turtles, many of whom will never return to the wild. This, effectively, is where they live out their days. It’s a good life, as these things go — regular feeding, medical attention, no sharks — but it’s hard not to feel a pang standing at the edge of that tank, watching a 200-pound Green turtle glide past with a chunk missing from one of its flippers.
Many of the permanent residents bore visible evidence of their encounters with human carelessness. Missing limbs. Scarred shells. And then there were the ones suffering from a condition the Hospital staff refer to, with admirable matter-of-factness, as “bubble butt.” This occurs when a boat strike forces air into the space beneath the turtle’s shell, creating pockets of trapped gas that fundamentally disrupt the animal’s buoyancy. The result is that the affected turtle cannot dive properly — it bobs at the surface, unable to submerge effectively, which in the open ocean would make it an easy target for sharks and leave it unable to feed at depth. It is, in short, a serious and life-limiting condition delivered by someone who probably wasn’t even paying attention.
The partial solution the Hospital has developed is to attach small weights to the shell, counteracting the buoyancy and allowing the turtle to achieve something closer to normal movement in the water. It works well enough within the controlled environment of the tank, but it’s not a fix that translates to life in the wild — a weighted turtle released into the ocean would face a different set of problems entirely. So the bubble butt brigade, as one might uncharitably think of them, tend to become permanent residents. They didn’t exactly look miserable about it, it has to be said.
Dotted around the facility beyond the main tank were several smaller individual tanks, each housing a single turtle mid-treatment. Some had only recently arrived. Others were clearly progressing well — more alert, more active, visibly on the mend. These would eventually either graduate to the larger communal pool or, if things went well enough, be fitted with a satellite tracking tag and released back into the Atlantic. The Hospital has released well over a thousand turtles since 1986, which is the kind of statistic that makes the whole operation feel considerably less hopeless than the X-rays had suggested.
🐢 The Best Bit — Obviously
If we’re being honest, and there’s no point in being anything else at this stage, the feeding session was what the whole morning had been building towards. Everything else — the presentation, the treatment rooms, the sobering X-rays — had been genuinely interesting, but this was the part we’d have felt genuinely cheated to miss.
We were handed pieces of food and positioned around the edge of the main tank, and that was more or less all the instruction required. The turtles did the rest.
What struck us immediately was how graceful they were. These are large, ancient-looking animals — some of them pushing 300 pounds — and yet in the water they move with a quiet, unhurried elegance that is really rather beautiful to watch. They don’t thrash or dart about. They glide. Great slow sweeps of their flippers carrying them through the water with what can only be described as complete indifference to anything except the prospect of lunch, which frankly is a disposition we can respect.
They came to the surface with a sort of gentle inevitability, opened their mouths with enormous calm, and simply chomped. There is something deeply pleasing about feeding an animal that is enthusiastic without being frantic about it. No snapping, no jostling, no unseemly scramble. Just a very large, very old creature deciding that you have something worth having and collecting it with quiet dignity.
We stood there longer than was probably strictly necessary. Nobody seemed to mind
Planning your visit to the Turtle Hospital
🐢 About the Turtle Hospital
The Turtle Hospital in Marathon, Florida, is the world’s first state-licensed veterinary hospital dedicated solely to the care and rehabilitation of sea turtles. Founded in 1986 by Richie Moretti, this remarkable non-profit organisation began life on the grounds of the former Hidden Harbor Motel and has since grown into a fully equipped rehabilitation and education centre. Operating under the motto “Rescue, Rehab, Release,” the hospital treats around 100 injured or sick sea turtles each year and has successfully rehabilitated and returned more than 1,500 turtles to the wild. A small number of permanent residents — turtles too disabled to survive in the ocean — live at the facility full-time, including Bubble Butt, the hospital’s longest-staying resident, who was rescued following a boat strike in 1989.
Five of the world’s seven sea turtle species are found in the Florida Keys: the Green sea turtle, Hawksbill, Leatherback, Kemp’s Ridley, and Loggerhead. The hospital treats them for a wide range of conditions, including boat strike injuries, entanglement in fishing gear, ingestion of plastic debris, and a tumour-forming virus called fibropapillomatosis, which is particularly prevalent among Green sea turtles in the region.
📍 Location
The Turtle Hospital is situated at Mile Marker 48.5 on the Gulfside of the Overseas Highway, approximately two and a half hours south of Miami and one hour north of Key West.
Address: 2396 Overseas Highway, Marathon, FL 33050, USA
🌐 Website
📞 Contact Phone Number
+1 (305) 743-2552
🕘 Opening Times
The Education Centre and Gift Shop are open daily from 9:00 am to 6:00 pm. Guided tours depart on the hour from 9:00 am through to 4:00 pm. A tour is required in order to visit the resident turtles — independent access to the rehabilitation areas is not permitted.
Advance reservations are strongly recommended, particularly during busy holiday periods, as tours fill up quickly.
🎟️ Entry Fees
All admission fees go directly towards supporting the hospital’s conservation and rehabilitation work.
Adults: $27.00 Children aged 4–12: $13.00 Children under 4: Free
The admission fee covers a behind-the-scenes guided tour lasting approximately 60 to 90 minutes, including visits to the receiving room, X-ray room, and operating room, along with presentations on sea turtle anatomy, feeding habits, and common injuries. Guests also have the opportunity to take part in an interactive turtle feeding session at the end of the tour.
🗺️ The Tour Experience
Every visit is centred around a guided educational tour led by knowledgeable staff. The tour begins with an introductory film presentation before guests are taken through the working hospital facilities. Along the way, visitors learn about the threats facing sea turtles in Florida’s waters and observe turtles at various stages of their recovery. Individual tanks house turtles receiving treatment, and each animal’s story is shared by the guide. The tour concludes at the large saltwater pools, where visitors can hand-feed the resident turtles.
For those who develop a particular fondness for one of the permanent residents, the hospital offers an adoption scheme for $35 per year, which helps cover feeding and care costs.
♿ Accessibility
Much of the visitor route is level and relatively easy to navigate. Guests with mobility or accessibility requirements are encouraged to contact the hospital in advance so that appropriate arrangements can be made. An ADA-compliant main entrance is available.
🛍️ Gift Shop
The on-site gift shop is open daily from 9:00 am to 6:00 pm. Purchases made here contribute directly to the hospital’s ongoing conservation efforts, making it a meaningful way to take home a memento of your visit.
Best time to visit Southern Florida
Southern Florida is one of the most climate-diverse destinations in the United States, offering warm sunshine virtually year-round. However, the experience varies enormously depending on when you arrive. From the balmy perfection of winter to the steamy, storm-lashed days of summer, each season brings its own character — and its own trade-offs.
🌸 Spring (March to May)
Spring is widely regarded as one of the finest times to visit Southern Florida. Temperatures are warm and pleasant, typically sitting between 22°C and 28°C, with lower humidity than the summer months and very little rainfall. The beaches are inviting, the wildlife is active, and the Everglades are teeming with birdlife as wading birds congregate around shrinking water pools.
March brings Spring Break crowds — particularly around Miami Beach, Fort Lauderdale, and the Florida Keys — but by April things quieten considerably. May is something of a sweet spot: the humidity begins to climb slightly, but visitor numbers drop, prices ease, and the weather remains gorgeous. Outdoor activities such as snorkelling, kayaking in the mangroves, and cycling through national parks are all excellent at this time of year.
What to pack: Lightweight trousers and shorts, short-sleeved shirts, a light cardigan for evenings, swimwear, reef-safe sunscreen (SPF 50+), polarised sunglasses, comfortable walking sandals or trainers, a small day rucksack, and a reusable water bottle.
☀️ Summer (June to August)
Summer in Southern Florida is not for the faint-hearted. Temperatures regularly exceed 32°C, the humidity is oppressive, and the region enters its wet season, bringing near-daily afternoon thunderstorms that can be sudden and intense. June through August also falls within the Atlantic hurricane season, which runs officially from 1 June to 30 November, though the peak risk period is August through October.
That said, summer has its merits. Hotel rates and flight prices drop significantly, making it the most budget-friendly season. Many families from Latin America and Europe travel at this time, giving the region a lively, cosmopolitan atmosphere. Early mornings are the best time for outdoor activities before the heat peaks, and the rain typically arrives in dramatic afternoon bursts that clear quickly. Theme parks near Orlando attract crowds, but the beaches themselves are often quieter than in winter.
What to pack: Lightweight, moisture-wicking clothing, a packable waterproof jacket or poncho, quick-dry shorts, breathable footwear, very high-factor sunscreen, insect repellent (mosquitoes thrive in the wet season), a wide-brimmed hat, and electrolyte tablets or a sports drink for staying hydrated in the heat.
🍂 Autumn (September to November)
Autumn is Southern Florida’s most underrated season. September and October carry the highest hurricane risk and the tail end of oppressive humidity, but by November the weather begins to transform dramatically. Temperatures ease to around 25°C–28°C, rainfall diminishes, and the landscape — particularly the Everglades — begins to dry out, concentrating wildlife in spectacular fashion.
November is arguably the finest month of the entire year in Southern Florida. The tourist crowds have not yet returned in earnest, hotel prices are still reasonable, and the weather is close to perfect. The Florida Keys are particularly lovely in November, as are the coastal areas around Naples and Marco Island on the Gulf Coast. Birding is excellent from October onwards as migratory species arrive for the winter.
What to pack: A mix of short-sleeved and light long-sleeved tops, a compact umbrella for September and October, breathable trousers, swimwear, comfortable walking shoes, sunscreen, and a light jacket for November evenings, especially on the water.
❄️ Winter (December to February)
Winter is peak season in Southern Florida, and with good reason. While much of North America shivers under frost and snow, Southern Florida basks in reliably warm, dry, and brilliantly sunny conditions. Daytime temperatures sit comfortably between 20°C and 26°C, humidity is low, and rainfall is minimal. This is the season that the region was built for.
Miami, Palm Beach, the Florida Keys, and Naples are at their absolute finest from December through February. The “snowbird” population — retirees and seasonal residents from the northern United States and Canada — swells the population considerably, and with them come vibrant social scenes, excellent restaurant experiences, and a lively cultural calendar. Art Basel Miami Beach takes place in early December and is one of the world’s premier art events. The downside is cost: winter is when prices are at their highest, rooms must be booked well in advance, and popular spots can feel very busy.
What to pack: Mostly summer clothing, but include a medium-weight jacket or fleece for evenings and air-conditioned interiors (restaurants and shops are frequently very cold), light layers, smart-casual evening wear if dining out in Miami or Palm Beach, comfortable walking shoes, sunscreen, and swimwear.
🏆 Overall Best Time to Visit
If you can visit only once and want the most reliable combination of superb weather, manageable crowds, and reasonable value, November stands out as the single finest month. It sits in the sweet spot between the wet summer season and the expensive winter peak — the humidity has dropped, the skies are clear, the sea is warm, and the Everglades are beginning to teem with wildlife. That said, for those who prioritise balmy dry weather and do not mind paying a premium, the December to April window represents Southern Florida at its most inviting. Budget travellers willing to brave the heat and occasional storm will find June and July offer the best value of the year. Whatever your preference, Southern Florida rewards every visitor who comes prepared — the key is simply knowing what to expect from the season you choose.
Where to stay near Marathon
1. Andrews Inn and Garden Cottages
Andrews Inn & Garden Cottages is a small bed and breakfast tucked down a quiet lane just off Duval Street in Key West’s historic Old Town, next door to the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum. The property dates to around 1900 and comprises six rooms in the main inn along with garden cottages, each furnished with four-poster beds, flat-screen televisions, refrigerators, and free Wi-Fi. Guests staying in the main inn receive a complimentary hot breakfast served poolside each morning, and a daily happy hour by the heated outdoor pool is included for all guests. Complimentary bicycles are available, which makes sense given the location — most of Key West’s main sights are within easy walking or cycling distance. The inn holds a TripAdvisor Certificate of Excellence and a Two-Palm designation under Florida’s Green Lodging Programme. It does not accept children or pets.
2. The Artist House
3. Seashell Motel
The Seashell Motel in Key West, Florida, is a small, no-frills property that suits travellers who want a straightforward place to stay without paying resort prices. Located on South Street, it sits within walking distance of Duval Street and the main attractions of Old Town, making it a practical base for exploring the area. Rooms are basic but functional, and the motel has a small pool which is welcome given the Florida heat. It caters largely to budget-conscious visitors and backpackers, and has a relaxed, unpretentious atmosphere that regulars tend to appreciate. Parking is available on site, which is a genuine convenience in a town where space is tight. It is not the place to go if you want spa treatments or a cocktail bar, but for travellers who plan to spend their time out exploring rather than sitting in a hotel room, it does the job well.
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