7 Deserted Islands In Florida That Feel Haunted

Florida’s coastline hides more than just sunny beaches and palm trees. Scattered among its waters lie forgotten islands with dark histories and eerie vibes that’ll make your skin crawl. I’ve explored these isolated spots where nature has reclaimed old settlements, leaving behind crumbling structures and whispers of the past. Grab your courage (and maybe a flashlight) as we visit seven deserted Florida islands where the line between our world and something more mysterious feels frighteningly thin.

1. Atsena Otie Key: Where Yellow Fever Ghosts Roam

Standing on the shore of Cedar Key, I could see Atsena Otie’s tree-lined silhouette just a mile offshore, practically begging for exploration. Though now abandoned, this island once thrived as the original Cedar Key settlement until the devastating 1896 hurricane and yellow fever epidemics wiped it clean.

Walking among the ruins of the old Faber pencil mill feels like stepping through a portal to the 1800s. Local fishermen avoid the island after sunset, swearing they’ve heard phantom coughs echoing through the palmettos – lingering sounds from quarantined yellow fever victims.

If you’re brave enough to visit, keep your eyes peeled for the cemetery where headstones peek through overgrown vegetation. Many claim to have spotted a woman in period clothing wandering aimlessly, perhaps searching eternally for family members lost to disease.

2. Ritta Island: The Vanishing Agricultural Haven

Hidden within Lake Okeechobee’s murky waters, Ritta Island tells a tale of agricultural ambition swallowed by nature’s wrath. I ventured here during a particularly dry season when the lake’s receding waters revealed ghostly foundations of the once-thriving farming community.

During the 1920s, farmers cultivated this fertile ground until devastating hurricanes and floods forced everyone to flee. What remains now feels frozen in time – rusted farm equipment partially submerged in muck, concrete foundations disappearing into tangled vegetation, and an unnatural silence broken only by the occasional splash.

Locals whisper about phantom tractors heard chugging along at night and strange lights drifting through the fog. Most disturbing are reports from fishermen who swear they’ve heard children’s laughter echoing across the water – though no children have lived here for nearly a century.

3. Loggerhead Key: Lighthouse Keeper’s Eternal Watch

Seven miles west of Key West in the Dry Tortugas sits Loggerhead Key, home to one of Florida’s most isolated lighthouses. When I camped here (with special permission), the isolation hit me immediately – nothing but wind, waves, and the occasional seabird for company.

The lighthouse still stands tall, but the keeper’s quarters remain abandoned since automation in the 1980s. Last lighthouse keeper Thomas Welling mysteriously disappeared in 1967 during a routine supply run – his boat found drifting empty despite calm seas. For weeks after, ships reported seeing the lighthouse beam operating erratically, flashing SOS patterns, though the mechanism had been shut down pending investigation.

Today, rangers avoid overnight stays, claiming they’ve heard footsteps climbing the spiral staircase and seen a shadowy figure in the lantern room. Most chilling are the maintenance logs occasionally found with fresh entries in faded handwriting matching Welling’s – over fifty years after his disappearance.

4. Garden Key: Fort Jefferson’s Eternal Prisoners

Though tourists visit Fort Jefferson on Garden Key during daylight hours, few experience this massive brick fortress after the last ferry departs. I convinced a park ranger friend to let me stay overnight, and what transpired still haunts my dreams.

Built in the mid-1800s, this imposing structure served as a prison during the Civil War. Its most famous inmate, Dr. Samuel Mudd, treated John Wilkes Booth after Lincoln’s assassination. Hundreds died here from yellow fever, poor conditions, and failed escape attempts across shark-infested waters.

After midnight, the fort transforms. I heard distinct footsteps echoing through empty corridors and clanking metal that sounded eerily like chains. Most disturbing was the distinct smell of antiseptic and whispered conversations coming from the former hospital wing. Park employees admit they’ve seen uniformed soldiers walking the perimeter wall – only to vanish when approached.

5. Bush Key: The Bird Watcher’s Last Stand

Accessible only during low tide via a narrow sandbar from Garden Key, Bush Key appears innocent enough with its dense vegetation and thriving bird colonies. However, beneath this natural paradise lies a troubling history few guidebooks mention.

In 1908, ornithologist Harlan Bradford established a research station here to study the island’s unique sooty tern population. After sending increasingly erratic journal entries describing “watching eyes among the mangroves,” Bradford vanished without a trace. His final journal entry simply read: “They are not birds.”

While walking the perimeter, I felt constantly observed despite being alone. The interior remains off-limits during nesting season, but rangers who’ve ventured inside report finding strange stone arrangements that couldn’t have formed naturally. Most unsettling are accounts from overnight campers on nearby Garden Key who’ve heard someone desperately calling their names from Bush Key’s direction – even when the sandbar is completely submerged.

6. Munyon Island: The Healer’s Cursed Sanctuary

Nestled in Lake Worth Lagoon near Palm Beach, Munyon Island appears idyllic with its nature trails and mangrove forests. Yet beneath this peaceful exterior lies the disturbing history of Dr. James Munyon’s health resort, which burned to the ground in 1917 under mysterious circumstances.

Walking among the barely visible foundation stones, I felt a distinct temperature drop despite the Florida heat. Dr. Munyon made his fortune selling questionable “healing tonics” with mysterious ingredients. After several patient deaths at his island resort, whispers of scandal began to circulate, including rumors about how the incidents were quietly covered up.

Kayakers report seeing a tall, bearded figure in Victorian clothing watching from the shoreline, only to disappear into the mangroves when approached. Most chilling are accounts from hikers who’ve heard glass bottles clinking and smelled medicinal herbs in areas where no plants grow – as if Dr. Munyon’s laboratory somehow continues operating a century after its destruction.

7. Shell Key Preserve: The Vanishing Campers

Though Shell Key appears postcard-perfect with its pristine beaches and abundant wildlife, locals know to leave before darkness falls. I spent a night camping here against the advice of Tampa Bay fishermen, an experience that left me questioning everything I believed about the natural world.

Unlike other islands on this list, Shell Key has no ruins or historical structures – its haunting stems from inexplicable disappearances. Since the 1970s, at least seven camping parties have vanished without trace, their equipment found perfectly intact as if they simply stepped away momentarily.

Throughout the night, I heard distinct footsteps circling my tent despite leaving clear sand that showed no tracks by morning. Most disturbing was awakening to find complex geometric patterns of shells surrounding my campsite – arrangements impossible to form naturally and too elaborate for wildlife. Park rangers acknowledge the incidents but offer no explanations for why certain areas of this seemingly innocent island remain inexplicably cold even on the hottest summer days.