My name is William Carson Fortenberry III. I attended the Boy Scouts of America Sea Base in 2018 as…read morea member of Troop 7303 from Carneys Point, New Jersey, along with our Scoutmaster--my uncle--and several scouts. This review has been a long time coming. Everyone of importance in our group submitted feedback after we returned, but I never got the chance to. After years of staying silent, I want to share our troop-wide experience with brutal honesty so future participants and parents know exactly what to expect. I hope this does not get flagged as fraudulent, because everything I'm saying is true, and BSA knows our case well.
Sea Base started out fine. We arrived in Orlando, drove across the long bridge, and stayed the night at the main camp. Spirits were high. The trip only fell apart the moment we canoed to the barrier island. Before landing, we had a brief snorkeling session that was actually beautiful--our first exposure to coral reefs for many of us from New Jersey. But after 15 minutes, we were rushed onward.
When we arrived at the island, we were told we'd need to retrieve our troop's water from the boat. What we didn't know was that we'd be lifting 90-pound barrels not just for our own group, but for everyone else. Our campsite was the furthest from shore, and we were one of the smaller groups--around six scouts total. Every other troop had already been prepped about helping with water. We weren't. While others pushed barrels through the water in a chain, we stood on the shoreline physically hauling these massive water containers--filled with other people's supplies--out of the ocean and dragging them 50 yards to the treeline. No one wanted to rotate. Everyone stayed in the water where the job was easier. Our troop got the short end of the stick, and our leaders were justifiably furious. This was not a "group effort" as they claimed--it was exploitation, plain and simple.
The next day, we were taken to see the "world's biggest tree that was struck by lightning." What we got was a stump you could sit on. That's it. Our guide looked confused that we weren't impressed. We then hiked to the "salt flats"--another massive letdown. We didn't even know we were standing on them until we were told after the fact. There was nothing but rocks and a vague white dusting where salt may have dried. A complete joke.
Then came the deep-sea fishing trip. We thought maybe, just maybe, this would redeem the experience. Wrong again. Despite our leaders purchasing licenses to fish, they weren't allowed to cast a line. None of us were. The staff on the boat did everything for us--cast the line, put it in the holder, and only let us reel in the fish by turning the knob. We never got to actually fish. This was insulting and a massive waste of time.
After that, we were scheduled to go deep-sea snorkeling again. Based on our past disappointment, we collectively told our guide we didn't want to go. She reported it, and some higher-ups came to confront us. We explained we'd already done snorkeling, had seen little, and preferred to stay and stargaze. They left us alone--finally--and that evening under the stars was one of the only genuinely enjoyable moments of the entire trip.
The next day, we were told to "help the island" by cleaning up rotting sargassum filled with maggots. We refused. Why? Because BSA staff had literally warned us that this same seaweed regularly contains used needles and dead bodies. That's what they told us, word for word. Then they turned around and tried to force us to clean it. We were threatened with being sent home if we didn't comply, so we reluctantly held the trash bags. It was revolting.
The final straw? Our troop had scheduled a trip to an alligator farm, using the official BSA-endorsed bus reservation system. The bus never showed up. BSA admitted their mistake and sent a replacement four hours later--too late for us to visit the farm, and dangerously close to missing our flight. Our "make-up" for all the chaos was nothing but a waste of time.
In the end, the best part of the trip was the moment we left.
There are no lies here. Every word is based on our lived experience. Sea Base was a joke. It was a waste of time, energy, and a disgraceful use of the money our families sacrificed to send us. I write this in hopes that others will look beyond the brochure and prepare themselves--or better yet, choose another experience. Sea Base failed us at every turn, and those running it should be ashamed.
