The Roaming Roosters of Key West

Sunday, January 18, 2026

Windy, 66°

“Storms out on the Gulf Stream, Big storm’s coming soon” – Jimmy Buffett

Tonight was time to hunker down inside the RV as a nasty cold front is blowing through.  The wind picked up suddenly this afternoon blowing all kinds of things not lashed down around the campground.  I lost one of my flip flops so if it’s not found tomorrow, I guess it is time for a new pair.  I found a large outdoor rug and floor mat that has also blown away to several camp sites. It’s still howling outside for several hours after dark, so it is time for me to sit and write about the Roosters and chickens of Key West.

One of the things that give Key West its charm is the free spirit of everyone living here.  Acceptance of everyone seems to be the main theme as all walks of life can be who they are without any conflicts or negative tones from anyone.  It’s refreshing to see.  That cannot be said of the rooster/chicken population.

There are the many, too many chickens and roosters roaming everywhere in Key West.  You will love ‘em or hate ‘em, the island’s colorful chickens are an iconic part of Key West.  Whether you’re on the beach or roaming around Old Town, it won’t be long before you encounter the roosters.  Some Conchs (locals) love the chickens.  They believe they make Key West the unique destination that it is and part of the Old Key West that everyone talks about.  Other Conchs hate them, saying they’re unsanitary and a nuisance.  After all, the roosters crow at all hours, and not just at the crack of dawn.  In fact, the island is so divided over the existence of the animals that a “chicken war” broke out over 15 years ago.  And it’s still going on today. 

The chickens are such a source of contention on the island because of their long history in Key West, most of the chickens arriving in the 1800's.  The story goes that Cuban settlers brought the chickens to the island, not only as a source of food, but also for sport.  While hens were prized for their eggs, the roosters were prized for their cockfighting, making for good back-alley entertainment. 

All was fine and dandy until cockfighting was outlawed in Key West in the 1970's, leaving many roosters without purpose and set to aimlessly roam the streets.  Without much to do, the chickens kept breeding – so much so that the chicken population was considered out of hand by the mid-2000's.  In fact, there were so many that the chickens were spread to the other nearby Keys.  Not surprisingly, it was around this time that the Chicken War broke out. 

So, while locals argue whether the chickens should stay in Key West, the animals roam free, living the good life, eating from local restaurants, soaking up the sun, and meeting tourists.  The gypsy chickens are all over Key West, yet they do tend to congregate in certain places more than others – especially in the restaurant Blue Heaven.  Along with the cats, the chickens here rule the roost.  Blue Heaven is a great place to eat and known specifically for their key lime pie.  Just know that if you come here, you’ll probably have to share with the island’s two-legged friends. 

Wandering around today they seemed to pop out from behind the bushes, standing on fences and walls, or even a few were hunkered down nesting their young just off the sidewalk.  They happily walked down Duvall Street along the shops, restaurants, and bars.  There were a couple milling around by the Southernmost Point in the USA buoy as tourists took photos of the buoy. Around the corner at the beach, they were walking around the sand while “tourists covered with oil” lay on the beach getting tanned.  Several were around Mallory Square during the sunset celebration.  One banty rooster was standing on a wall, so I walked closer to get a photo of his leg spurs.  He proudly strutted over closer and slightly turned to allow a photo like he knew that I was taking a picture of his spurs.  It was weird but not the strangest thing seen in this tropical paradise.

If you come to Key West, you will not miss the roosters and chickens all over town as they are not bothered by the people and some seem to enjoy the attention from the tourists.

The Adventures of the Wayward Flip Flops

The Adventures of the Wayward Flip Flops

Crocs by another name

My first recollection of my adventures was my journey from Germany to the United States. It was wintertime and usually not the right season for my kind to travel. Placed in a small rectangular box it was dark and cold. The trip took many days and only God knows the course and after many days of being thrown around ended up in a small alpine town in Georgia.  It looked and had the feel of my former area in Germany.  When my new companion opened the box there were many lights around, some in trees, on buildings and it seemed festive enough to have a party.

Normally I’m only taken out in warmer weather, but this was different, we went out everyday in all kinds of weather. I heard stories about my previous pair living in Alaska and being on the go in frigid and nasty weather. To hear of the Hawaiian shirts and Margaritaville flip flops being taken on adventures in minus twenty below seems almost unheard of, but this new companion is a bit odd and takes us everywhere.

The first couple of years there were camping trips in various places, a beautiful lake in Tennessee. A fun adventure with Alaskan friends In Helen, Savannah, and Charleston. Walks on sandy beaches among miles of driftwood and great food. Never offered me anything to eat but expected me to take him miles and miles with nothing.  If I could speak, I would have told you to share all the great food eaten over our time together.  The walks along the beach were fun until we walked along and into the water where it was hard to come up for air. His gait allowed breathing but when stopped for longer periods of time I thought I was a goner for sure.

Several years I went to an ice cream convention in various places, Orlando, Fort Worth, Las Vegas, and Savannah but this year he wore some other shoes and were not invited to see new things or meet up with people my companion knew.  It was a letdown staying in some hotel room and only being taken out for leisure time. I’m happy to work to earn my way in life but for some reason this year I guess I was second fiddle to some rarely used pair.

There was a medivac trip to Texas with his daughter’s family with a side trip to Oklahoma City that was enjoyable even if the cause of the trip was not.  There were a couple of hot air ballooning adventures with his friends, but I could not see very well being in the bottom of the basket.  From what I heard it was lovely and beautiful.

There were many more, but this leads me to the current situation. 

On a road trip to Key West, what started out as a wonderful trip seeing multiple friends along the way and seeing new sights while basking in the Florida sunshine took a nasty turn. After a leisurely morning breakfast with friends, a visit to the Butterfly Habitat and a walk along Duvall Street we returned to the RV campsite for a little rest. Little did I know what was to come a little later.

When we returned my companion did a few chores then took me off and placed me on an 8’ x 12’ rug outside the RV.  There was a nice Flamingo welcome mat at the door of the motorcoach, and we were left by ourselves for a couple of hours.

Suddenly things changed, the sky turned dark with ominous looking clouds and the calm waters of the Gulf started churning along the shoreline.  Inside no one seemed to notice the changes to the weather. One was finishing reading, “A Salty Piece of Land” while my companion was on the laptop writing something or another.

It was like someone turned on a switch to a massive wind machine. What was once calm and wonderful immediately turned into chaos.  I was lifted up in the air, spinning and turning over and over again until I hit the side of a kayak in the next campsite. I was stunned for a few seconds before watching the aftermath. The flamingo rug was hurled over the yellow mini-Cooper and landed over on another campsite across the street about 50 feet away.  The 8’x10’ rug flapped a few times before it shot up into the air, higher than the RV and quickly left the campsite.  It came to rest on a bicycle the man was trying to put away and clean up the debris at his campsite.

What happened next was almost unimaginable.

My other half was violently thrown up into the air riding the 8’x10’ rug at first but continued to rise higher, tumbling over and over until I could not see him anymore.  Gone in a flash!

My companion came out of the RV realizing I was gone and had to find some other shoes before coming outside to look for me.  He found the Flamingo mat, brought it back against the wind and after struggling to get the door open it was placed inside.

Next, he went around the Mini and I could see the other campsite and briefly talked with the bicycle man who was struggling to put his things away. He had trouble folding the rug to walk back over to the RV.  The wind pushed him almost, knocking him to the ground but finally after struggling to take the large rug to the camper door, again the struggle to open the door.

Finally, he starts looking around for me and the other one but does not see either of us at first. Coming over by the kayak I screamed over the howling noises of the wind, “Look here, over here!”  He saw me and reached down to pick me up and the wind whisked me away once again, over the kayak and into the roadway. I was picked up and brought over to the RV and place inside while my companion went out in search of my other half.  What seemed like a very long time he returned empty handed.

The search would have to wait until morning as the wind howled, the darkness set in strangely after a beautiful sunset, and the waves crashed up along the shoreline all night long.

Does this story have a happy ending?  Not at this time as the search continues.

After an exhausting search including talking to several neighbors, no one has seen the wayward flip flop, taken from the windward side of Sigsbee Island.

Now comes the awkward search for replacement flip flops that have that same character and je ne sais quoi that this pair had.

Epilog

Later this morning when leaving to go to brunch, I moved the Mini and looked under where it had been sitting, low and behold there sat the other flip flop. It had been hiding behind the rear wheel inside where it could not be seen. It was unhappy that it was outside in the dark windy night and was so happy to be reunited making the set and looking forward to more adventures.