Florida’s unique location, peninsular geography, poverty of natural resources and history of hustle produced this chronicle of illicit activity. Smuggling is a constant but unrecognized factor in Florida’s steamy history. The navigator who found Florida was first a smuggler. Today’s Florida governor is married to a smuggler of clothing and jewelry. Not to mention a previous governor who was a gunrunner.
It is a wild tale. A story of unconquered Native Americans. A story of the richest men in the world. A story of mud towns that became metropolises. A story of heroes and villains.
On one hand, we have desires; on the other hand, suppliers. And in between, stern government regulations. Nobody knows how many things are illegal to import. This bottle of rum is OK but that one is not. This jar of caviar is fine but next week it’s totally forbidden. The rules change daily. One aspect is constant: demand for contraband is strong and growing. Always has been, probably always will be.
Because smuggling is a covert activity, documentation is impossible to find until a smuggler is caught and indicted. Only then are records available, although what is made public is carefully sanitized. Because so many smugglers are never caught, the scope of their operations is nearly impossible to quantify.
Today’s official guesstimates are staggering. The Federal Drug Enforcement Administration gives an annual range—for illegal drugs only—of $13.6 to $48.4 billion in 2005. The Federal Reserve Bank of Boston estimated in 2001 that $30 billion in illegal profits were laundered that year in the United States. The big number—total annual money laundering worldwide in 2001—was estimated between $600 billion and $1.5 trillion. While those sums are profits from all illegal industries, most of them depend on smuggling.
Florida’s fraction of both the national and global totals is unknown. But we know virtually everything worth smuggling has—at some point in time—passed quietly across Florida’s borders, often by the ton.
My aim is neither to glorify nor vilify. My aim is to display a fundamental truth about Florida: it is a smuggler’s paradise. Smugglers developed Florida as we know it today and they are shaping its future for tomorrow. From the Governor’s Mansion to your next-door neighbor—howdy, smuggler!