I’ve spent a good part of my life testing boats.
So, a few (actually many) years ago, when I was asked to test an RV in the Florida Keys I figured—how different could it be?
Brenda joined me, laptop in hand, ready to document everything as we went.
We didn’t know it at the time…but this trip had very little to do with RVing.
At 8:30 on Monday morning, my wife and I arrived at Holiday RV in Key Largo to a most enjoyable walk-through of a brand new 1998 35’ Winnebago Adventurer.
Being 5th Generation in the boat business, a power boater and a boat-tester for Canadian Yachting and Power Boating Canada Magazines, I was comfortable with the systems, generators, tanks, electrical—it all felt familiar.
Armed with some RV knowledge and terminology, we hit the road in the Keys to test this RV for RV Lifestyles Magazine.
After an entertaining day on the highway, we decided to stop for the night as we would do with our yacht.
Not so simple. “No Vacancy”, “No room for a 35’ Motor Home” “Full” was all we could hear and find.
“No vacancy.” “No room.” “Full.”
I remember saying, “This doesn’t make any sense.” Brenda just looked at me and asked.
“What would you do in the boat?” We’re self-sufficient; we don’t need all the water, dump stations, and crowded campsites with no vacancies. Let’s look for a deserted spot.
That was it. We stopped thinking like RVers and went back to what we knew.
Anchoring Out or Crowded in?
On a boat, we’d look for a suitable anchorage, anchor, make it work, and enjoy it.
Less than two miles down the road, I spotted another Winnebago in an otherwise empty parking lot beside Harbor Lights Motel. In we went. The Night Manager said we were welcome to park our Motor Home in the parking lot. “But”, he said, “we don’t have any hookups. You’ll have to be self-sufficient.”
I smiled. “That won’t be a problem”.
We positioned the RV along the shore facing the Atlantic as the Manager suggested—just like I would anchor a boat for the best view and breeze.
And just like that…Everything changed.
We were positioned on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean with 15’ between us and the water and a 180-degree view.
Down went the levelling feet, out went the slide out, and here we were in our own secluded bay just as we have done so many times before in our Power Boat. Heaven! In the Florida Keys with our own oceanfront condo. Only one neighbour, no noise, just the sound of the highway way off in the background and the Atlantic Ocean close by in the foreground.
Sunrise came after what seemed like an incredibly short night, and it was magnificent. Coffee right outside our door, just steps to the ocean, with more birds in sight than we had seen in Everglades National Park for the previous two days. “This is more like it,” we said to each other. “We are now on holiday in the Keys.”
Soon after our first sip of coffee, the parade of Sport Fishermen headed out from the inlets on our right and on our left. Shortly thereafter, the butterfly parade of windsurfers dotted the horizon from all the resorts around us. The egrets, herons, ibis, seagulls, pelican, and blue heron jostled for position on the coral sea wall a few feet offshore.
Little did we know, this parade of Mother Nature would continue until well after sunset. So comfortable was the breeze that we didn’t need the generator to power the air conditioner, underlining our previous conviction, “Who needs conveniences when you are anchored by the ocean shore”.
Later in the day, when it did get warm, we accepted the motel manager’s invitation to enjoy the 90 degree fresh water pool with the motel guests.
“Incredible,” said Brenda. “Why don’t more RVers do this? Why would they park so closely in a campground when they can have all this space on the ocean front?” I didn’t have any answers.
Living by the philosophy that there is always something better down the road, we took turns jumping on the phone to inquire about vacancies/availabilities at other RV sites. The replies in short meant “stay put”.
Wide Beam or Slide Out?
The most memorable response was that we do not accept RVs with slide-outs. I asked why? The ridiculous answer seemed to be that my slide-out would knock the drink off the table of the guy in the site beside me.
Meantime, back at the parking lot by the ocean, we had the whole place to ourselves, other than the occasional visitor by car.
The next morning came fast.
Brenda was already outside with coffee. Birds lined the shoreline. Boats streamed past heading out for the day.
“This is more like it,” she said. She was right.
We weren’t RVing anymore. We were boating… on land.
Still puzzled at why other RVers huddled together in tight city pigeon-hole style spots, we held up our margaritas and toasted our power boating wisdom applied to RVing.
Pump Out or Dump?
Several restful days later, “There are a lot of similarities to boating” suggested Brenda. One being the now urgent need for a pump out. I drove the Motor Home up to Key Largo, the closest place we could find for a pump out (25 miles round trip)–unlike boating, where every marina and town facility offers this service. We quickly learned that the RV terminology for Pump Out was “Oh you want the dumping station”. We proceeded to the dump station and did the necessary thing.
Choose Neighbors or Not?
In minutes, we were back on US #1 down to Islamorada where we found Plantation Marina & Resort. Ah! A familiar place. Yachts and space. Lots of space. “Sure” they said. “you can park your motor home wherever you want over by the beach anywhere close to Lagoon Saloon. You can enjoy the entertainment and spectacular sunsets. “This is more like what we are used to” we said to each other. We hadn’t been able to get any water at Americas Campground when we “dumped”, but here, we pulled alongside the water hose, just as if we were in our boat, and presto, our water tanks were filled while we enjoyed friendly visits with the boaters barbequing their ribs and steaks.
One of the reasons we came to the Keys was to see Key West sunsets. We toured Duval Street shops and observed the Key West Sunset and, of course, enjoyed a margarita at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville.
As we drove back to our choice location at Islamorada, we were pretty smug thinking that we had found incredible places to stay in the Keys. Back at the Motel by the oceanside, we enjoyed a peaceful sleep, knowing that upon awakening, we could again enjoy coffee to the entertainment of the Florida Keys birds on the coral reef in front of our door.
Motor Home life is much like that of a boater, with generators, hot and cold running water, holding tanks, propane stoves with oven, full size frig and freezer—although a smaller frig is more common on a cruiser this size. One of the features Brenda particularly liked on the Winnebago was the computer worktable in the passenger seat. She was right at home with her laptop. With a map of everywhere in the United States on a CD, she could zoom in on a campground, marina, town, or whatever in an instant. Sure beats fighting with printed paper road maps. Not only that, but she could also click on the town, restaurant, or campground and have the address and phone number displayed in large letters on the screen. Pick up the cell phone, and dinner reservations are made. (Note: this was a few decades ago.)
This is the life! “RVing is okay” we agreed.
Sitting by the ocean that night, margaritas in hand, we laughed.
This wasn’t how RVing was supposed to work. But it worked better.
Brenda raised her glass to: “Boating knowledge… applied to RVing.”
She nailed it.
I thought I was testing an RV.
Turns out…I was just proving something I already knew.
Boating isn’t about the boat. It’s about how you think and how you enjoy it with your family and friends.
RVing isn’t about the RV. It’s also about how you think and how you enjoy it with family and friends.
