Last Updated: May 2026
From Grayton Beach — bruised, wrist-sprained, rib-fractured, and ready for a site that didn’t require chainsaw work to access — we drove east along the Panhandle to Carrabelle and checked into Ho Hum RV Park. The name undersells it considerably. Our site sat directly on the water with a 180-degree view across the Gulf of Mexico, and the park’s 250-foot pier stretched out into the bay. Jake immediately applied himself to the comprehensive olfactory survey of the shoreline that any self-respecting dog would consider mandatory.
Ho Hum RV Park
We’d arranged for Amazon deliveries to meet us here — a useful trick for RV travelers with a confirmed address and enough lead time. The Three Rivers State Park campsite had soft sand pads; when we’d leveled the rig there and deployed the hydraulic jacks, they sank more than six inches into the ground. We’d improvised with wooden blocks, but proper jack pads had been on the order list since. They arrived at Ho Hum, along with a Thermacell mosquito repellent unit we’d been meaning to try — the Gulf Coast at dusk requires either serious repellent or a willingness to donate blood to the local ecosystem.
Ho Hum’s amenities covered everything we needed: 50-amp service, water, sewer, wifi, showers, and a washer/dryer. No pool, no hot tub, no children — which kept things quiet. Given the state of my wrist and ribs, a Jacuzzi would have been appreciated, but the sunsets more than compensated.
Dinner & a Night Storm
We had dinner at The Fisherman’s Wife in Carrabelle. The oysters — which we’d been looking forward to all day — were sold out. Sandy had the grilled grouper instead, which was very good. That night brought the first significant thunderstorm of the trip: constant lightning and heavy rain for most of the night, the kind of Gulf Coast storm that makes the windows rattle and the sky look like a strobe light. Jake handled it remarkably well for a first exposure. The following morning the RV was clean for the first time in days, courtesy of the rain. Small victories.
Exploring Carrabelle
Carrabelle is a small fishing town with a disproportionate collection of things worth knowing about. We spent a morning exploring and found more than we expected.
The World’s Smallest Police Station
In 1953, the local phone company installed a call box on the wall of a downtown building so officers walking their beat could answer calls without returning to the station. Problems arose almost immediately: unauthorized civilians were making long-distance calls on the police phone, and officers were getting soaked answering it in the rain. The solution was to move the phone into a repurposed phone booth.
In 1963, that phone booth was relocated to its current position on US-98, under a chinaberry tree. The police chief had it officially lettered as The City of Carrabelle Police Station. The arrangement worked well — officers could do paperwork in the shade, monitor traffic, and answer the phone from a single position. Unauthorized long-distance calls continued until the dial was removed. Vandals subsequently shot holes in the booth, Hurricane Kate knocked it over, and a tourist once asked a service station attendant to help him load it into his vehicle. It has been replaced and restored multiple times. It still stands, still officially designated as a police station, and is still one of the most photographed phone booths in the American South.
The Legend of Tate’s Hell
The swamp forest east of Carrabelle is known as Tate’s Hell State Forest, and the name comes from one of the best pieces of Florida folk mythology we’ve encountered. The short version:
Jebediah Tate bought 160 acres near Carrabelle and made a pact with a local medicine man: bring him a pig each year and never enter the nearby cypress forest, and good fortune would follow. Three years of prosperity. Then the Tates reneged. That year, Jebediah died of malaria, the turpentine pines went dry, the sugar cane stunted, and the cattle disappeared. Only the pigs thrived.
Jebediah’s son Cebe inherited the property and a mail-order bride from New York City. She was Jewish, wouldn’t eat pork, and wanted steak. Cebe went into the swamp to find one of their missing cows. His dogs flushed a panther and ran off. He lost his gun in the mud. The mosquitoes were relentless. He wandered into the forbidden cypress forest and fell asleep against one of the sacred trees. He was bitten by a poisonous snake. Dehydrated, snakebit, and lost, he eventually staggered into Carrabelle, managed to tell someone his name was Cebe Tate and that he had “just come through Hell” — and died. The swamp has been known as Tate’s Hell ever since.
Crooked River Lighthouse
Built in 1895, the Crooked River Lighthouse replaced a series of three lighthouses that had been constructed on nearby Dog Island, each eventually destroyed by storms. The origin of “Dog Island” is disputed — candidates include wild dogs found on the island, the island’s silhouette resembling a crouching dog, or the maritime tradition of calling common sailors “dogs” and quarantining them on offshore islands before docking, to prevent desertion. The lighthouse was decommissioned in 1995 after exactly a century of service.
The Carrabelle Bottle House
In 2012, Carrabelle resident Leon Wiesener began building a house entirely from glass bottles — more than 6,000 of them, in every size and color, set in mortar to create walls that glow when backlit. It’s a genuine piece of vernacular art, the kind of obsessive, beautiful, structurally improbable project that small coastal towns occasionally produce. When we visited, the floor was being replaced due to termites, so we couldn’t go inside — but the exterior alone is worth the stop.
Carrabelle is a beach town in the best sense — unhurried, unpretentious, genuinely quirky. We really enjoyed our time at Ho Hum. It’s the kind of stop you find by accident and remember for years.
Visitor Information
Ho Hum RV Park is located at 2132 US-98, Carrabelle, FL 32322. Waterfront sites on the Gulf; full hookups with 50-amp service, water, sewer, and wifi. Adult-only park. Book ahead for waterfront sites — they go quickly.
The World’s Smallest Police Station is at the intersection of US-98 and Avenue A in downtown Carrabelle. Free to visit at any hour; it’s a phone booth on a sidewalk.
Crooked River Lighthouse is located at 1975 US-98, Carrabelle. The grounds are open for self-guided visits; lighthouse climb tours are available on selected dates.
Tate’s Hell State Forest encompasses roughly 202,000 acres east of Carrabelle. Hiking, paddling, and wildlife viewing are all available; check the Florida Forest Service website for access points and current conditions.
Practical Tips
- Book a waterfront site at Ho Hum specifically — not all sites have direct Gulf frontage. The 180-degree sunset views are the park’s signature feature and worth the planning.
- Mosquitoes at dusk are significant along this stretch of the Gulf Coast. The Thermacell repellent system works well for stationary outdoor time; DEET-based repellent is better for walking.
- The Fisherman’s Wife in Carrabelle serves excellent Gulf seafood. Oysters from Apalachicola Bay — just east of Carrabelle — are among the best in the country; confirm availability before going, as supply can be inconsistent.
- The Bottle House may have variable access depending on ongoing work — check locally before making it a primary destination.
- Carrabelle is a useful resupply point between the Panhandle beaches (Destin/30A corridor) and Tallahassee or St. George Island. The US-98 coastal route through this area is one of the most scenic drives in Florida.
