Key West, the southernmost outpost of the United States, and the last little island in the chain of the Florida Keys, has always been a thriving hub for America’s artists and bohemians, attracted by its easy-going, Caribbean-tinged nature. It’s also what attracted Dean Carlson to make his home here in the heart of the historic old town.

Up until mid-morning the centre of Key West looks very much like the centre of any attractive neighbourhood in middle of the United States. The verandas, sidewalks and clapper-board fronted stores, their pastel-shades glowing in the early sun, form the kind of backdrop for bustling, small-town industriousness that appears time and again in the illustrations of the American artist Norman Rockwell – a snapshot of the modest but diligent productivity of the American everyman, all wrapped up in a picture-postcard setting.

Then, at around lunchtime, things change. The streets thin out as the sun beats down. The air buzzes as the temperature rises, rocking chairs appear in the deep shady porches and hammocks unfurl. It’s hot, nothing very much is happening in a very pleasant way, and all of a sudden Key West feels as if it could be on an island in the very heart of the Caribbean.

In the early morning, after his usual breakfast of banana pancakes with strawberry syrup, Dean Carlson can most often be found tending to the exotic flora in the amazing tropical garden that surrounds his house in Key West’s historic old town – an area of outstanding beauty covering only a scant few blocks in the south of the island, and has yet been home to giants of American literature, such as Tennessee Williams and the infamous Earnest Hemingway, as well as a couple of US Presidents for good measure.

“This is my best and probably my only opportunity for a little light garden maintenance during the day,” explains Dean. “By midday all you normally want to do is go out the back and sit in the plunge pool with a cold drink.”

It’s a far cry from the daily pattern of activity in cloudy Cambridge, where Dean’s parents first met and settled before eventually migrating to west coast California, where Dean did much of his growing up.

“My dad owned and ran a nursery in The Bay Area just outside San Francisco where we lived. Everything there seemed to grow beautifully and, looking back, I think that was where I first developed my passion for horticulture.”

It’s a passion which, to a large extent, has lead Dean to the house in which he lives today, as he explains. “I absolutely love gardening, and above all gardens with tropical botanical plants – before I moved here 15 years ago I lived on Hawaii, and when I was looking to leave there I already knew that it would have to be to some other place with a similar warm climate that propagates the kind of plants I love.”

Even to the untrained eye it is obvious that Dean has realised his proviso in full. The garden that surrounds his house on four sides is a riot of lush, vibrant green foliage, provided by palms, green mangoes and a host of other species, dotted with points of intense colour where indigenous flowering plants such as frangipani, datura and poinsettia erupt through the mass.

“I think it’s the garden that makes this place extra special,” says Dean; “Especially at the front where we even have a lawn on the approach. That’s a pretty unusual feature in Key West, and quite a symbol of status – after all you’ve got to remember that this island is only a two by four mile piece of earth, so having land to spare here to be laid out for grass would have been considered quite decadent even for these grand historic homes when they were first built. In fact the only reason that we have one here is that in 1909, just five years after this house was built, a hurricane blew it off the raised, solid coral foundation piers it was set upon, so the owners decided to re-erect it further back. It means that unlike the majority of other houses here, historic or otherwise, we’re set back off the street away from the hubbub, which is one of the things I like best about this place. So as long as we don’t have another hurricane as fierce, I’m prepared to call that a happy accident!”

The fact that the property has remained relatively impervious to the sometimes violent forces of nature, which are just a fact of life in this part of the world, is testament to the original build quality of houses like Dean’s and the craftsmen, mainly sailors and shipbuilders, who first constructed them.

Known locally as ‘historic homes’ or sometimes referred to as ‘conch houses’ as conch shells were burned to obtain lime for the small amount of mortar used in their construction, these structures generally date from 1886 to 1912, and Dean’s is no exception, being built in 1904.

The basic features which distinguish this unique local architecture, a mixture of styles drawn from the Bahamas to as far afield as New England, are completely wooden-frame houses varying from one to two-and-a-half stories, generally set on foundation piers about three feet above the ground, to prevent the risk of flooding while also improving air circulation.

Horizontal wood sidings painted in reflective white or pastel-shades, with deep covered porches and verandas, as well as large louver shutters at the windows are all typical features designed to keep the tropical heat at bay. Houses also feature peaked roofs, originally made of tin with wide guttering for the collection of rainwater, for many years the only way of obtaining fresh water here.

“I knew if I was going to live and stay here then it would have to be in one of these properties,” says Dean. “I waited five years for the right house to come onto the market, and I had nearly given up hope before this place came along. I just love the look and the design of these places, and especially the fact that the way they look springs entirely out of necessity – they were built simply to be strong and stay cool.”

However its isn’t entirely thanks to the craftsmen of just over a century ago that Dean’s home looks as stunningly beautiful as it does today.

“There was a fair amount of renovation work to be undertaken when I first moved in here,” he admits. “Most of it involved updating the fairly tired fixtures and fittings in the kitchen and bathrooms, and on top of that I wanted the décor and the overall look to be something that was stripped back to the original as close as possible. That’s why many of the rooms don’t have painted walls because wherever possible I wanted to expose the Dade county pine timber that was used – it’s the hardest wood you could get around here and all these houses where built from it, which meant that the tree actually died out in the twenties. That’s part of the history of a place like this, so I wanted to leave it on display.”

These natural, elegantly spare walls contrast and complement the highly polished wooden floors, and also provide the perfect backdrop for Dean’s large and eclectic collection of artwork. “I absolutely love Cuba,” Dean explains, “and I go there quite often on humanitarian missions. One of the things that you can bring back from there into the US is artwork, so I have quite a few canvases from Cuban artists now. I just love the colours and the vibrancy of them – plus, the fact that we’re actually twice as close to Havana here than we are to Miami was another important element that I wanted to be reflected in the décor.

After all, the majority of people that live here on Key West regard themselves as citizens of the world more than citizens of America.”