Jonathan Dickinson State Park, Hobe Sound, Florida (Jupiter)
This is love for God: to obey His commands. ~ I John 5:3
Since Blaine and I have to entertain ourselves for the next couple of days (because some people still have to work 😊), we took a long bike ride today around this gigantic park. It’s 10,500 acres or 67 square miles (although many sources other than Florida State Parks deem it 11,500 acres) and was established as a State Park in 1950, although at that time, it wasn’t that big. I couldn’t find out when the additional acreage was added nor how much.
It seems an odd name for a Park, so I went digging for information. I didn’t have to dig too deep.
Jonathan Dickinson was a Quaker merchant whose vessel shipwrecked nearby in 1696. His book, “God’s Protecting Providence”, records the story of his party’s capture by the Jobe (Hoe-Bay) Indians and their release and journey up the coast to St. Augustine. Victims of war and disease, these native Jobe people died off shortly thereafter. Or so says the State Park brochure. But I wanted more. I found the following story on roadtrippersmagazine.com written by Anna Hider last March. I’ll share additional parts of her article in future blog posts as we experience the appropriate areas.
We love a good state park, but few can boast as much insane history as Martin County’s Jonathan Dickinson State Park. And we don’t use the word “insane” lightly. From its days well before America was a country (let along before it was a state park) when shipwrecks were common along the Florida coast, to the early days of Florida’s tourism industry – when visitors would boat up the wild and scenic Loxahatchee River to meet a gator-wrestler who lived on its shores – to its once-hidden history as a top-secret military training school, the park is filled with subtle reminders of its storied past.
So, book a campsite, rent a canoe, lace up your hiking boots, and get ready to explore the story of America’s past, as told by its wildest state park.
Jonathan Dickinson was a well-to-do Quaker merchant who was living in Port Royal, Jamaica, with his family, when a devastating earthquake struck the island in 1692. Suffering financial losses after the disaster, he eventually made the decision to move his family to Philadelphia. The story of how a state park in Florida, nowhere near Pennsylvania, came to bear his name is a pretty crazy one.
In 1696, Dickenson and his family set sail on a barkentine called the Reformation. The ship, which had a small crew and several other passengers, became separated from the rest of its convoy. Then, to make matters worse, a storm blew it ashore just north of Jupiter Inlet near Hobe Sound. Everyone survived the wreck and started saving what supplies they could, but many were sick or injured from the perilous journey. Jobe Indians found them, took their goods, and threatened them, but eventually brought them back to the Jobe village. After a few tense days, the Jobe Indians released the castaways, and they started up the coast to the Spanish settlement of St. Augustine.
But this part of the trip wasn’t smooth sailing, either. The Ais tribe in Santa Lucea detained them again, and then sent them to the town of Jece. Here, they met up with survivors from another ship from their convoy that also wrecked. Finally, at long last, Spanish from St. Augustine arrived to escort them back to the city; the journey remained difficult, though. Food was scarce and conditions were brutal, and several people died of exposure on the journey. Despite this, the entire Dickinson family made the final leg of their journey, from St. Augustine to Philadelphia, where Jonathan Dickinson prospered. He published a journal detailing the shipwreck and journey to Philadelphia in 1699.
Now you know how the Park got its name. 😊
We began our ride by going to the observation tower. At 86’, it’s the highest point in Southern Florida! No wonder I was so tired by the time I got to the top of it! Whew! (that’s sarcasm for those of you who may not know me. 😊)
It was across the street from here, that we came into contact with information about when these grounds were used as a top-secret military base during WWII. Camp Murphy was in operation for two years and was decommissioned in 1944, one year before the war ended.
Here’s what Anna has to say: (FYI – Anna mentions a man named Trapper Nelson in her article, but I’m not really ready to talk about him yet, so just store the information she shares in your memory bank. Hopefully yours is easier to withdraw from than mine. Maybe I need a new bank . . . 😊
Trapper Nelson’s zoo isn’t the only historic site in Jonathan Dickinson State Park. You can also tour the remains of Camp Murphy, a top-secret training base. Trapper Nelson himself spent some time here during WWII. The army opened the camp in 1942 as a top-secret radar training school. Colonel William Herbert Murphy, a pioneer in the development of radio beams and equipment for military aircraft, is the camp’s namesake. Soldiers who were preparing for “jungle warfare” trained here too, thanks to the dense forests.
In the two years Camp Murphy was operational, it housed 854 officers and 5, 752 enlisted men, and consisted of nearly 1,000 assorted buildings. The camp even had a bank, a movie theater, a church and a bowling alley. After the war, starting in 1945, it was used as migrant housing, and in 1948, the buildings were torn down or sold and carted away. Only a few remain, although eagle-eyed visitors can spot the foundations of others. You can even still see the two-room walk-in vault from the ban’s foundation.
The bank vault isn’t the only remains you can explore. One of the park’s campsites is located where the hospital stood. The par’s office is in a formerly-secret bomb shelter for Kennedy administration government officials. You can see an old ammo dump, and the old barracks are still standing as well. You might even be able to find bullets near the old gun range walking south from the railroad tracks. The state took over the camp’s land in 1947, and Jonathan Dickinson State Park opened in 1950.
We didn’t know to look for these things while we were out riding around. All we noticed was an information board. Maybe we’ll have the opportunity to go in search of, later in our stay.
Isn’t it fun to learn about stuff most of us know nothing about? It’ll probably get worse as the generations progress, because teachers spend more time teaching about ‘inclusion’ and wrangling ill-behaved children that they aren’t allowed to discipline, then actual teaching. And that’s today’s soapbox. : )
Altogether, we ended up with about nine miles under our belt. In the sun and mid-eighties. I was done-in when we got back (hot flashes don’t help) and had to lay down to cool off. Blaine even put a cool rag on my face, but it got hot so fast, it really didn’t help. But I recovered just fine after about 30 minutes of reading under the air conditioning. 😊
Lovely sunset tonight! Thank You, God!
