Coconut Grove was here before Miami was. People were living and farming along this stretch of Biscayne Bay in the 1870s and 1880s, two decades before the city incorporated in 1896, and the Grove kept its own identity as a separate town until Miami annexed it in 1925. It has never entirely stopped behaving like a separate place.
Two settlements made it. Bahamian labourers, many from the Abacos and Eleuthera, arrived to clear land, build in the wrecking and construction trades, and work the new bayfront hotels; they settled the inland blocks that became the West Grove, and brought the shotgun-house form and the conch cottage with them. At the same time New England and mid-Atlantic transplants — yacht designers, naturalists, writers — settled the bayfront, drawn by the climate and the sailing. The two communities built the neighbourhood together and were segregated within it for most of the century that followed, a history the Grove is only recently getting honest about.
What survives is unusually legible. The Barnacle, built in 1891 by yacht designer Ralph Middleton Munroe, is the oldest house in Miami-Dade County still standing where it was built, set in five acres of hardwood hammock running down to the water. Charles Avenue in the West Grove still carries the Bahamian cottages, a historic cemetery and the Mariah Brown house. And Miami's City Hall is the 1934 Pan American Airways seaplane terminal at Dinner Key, where the flying boats left for Havana and South America — government has met in it since 1954.
Above all, the Grove has trees. It is the shadiest neighbourhood in the city, with a real canopy of live oak, banyan and mahogany over narrow streets, and walking here in August is a genuinely different experience from walking anywhere else in Miami.
The village centre around Grand Avenue and Main Highway holds the cafés, CocoWalk and the sailing clubs. Vizcaya is ten minutes north.