Legend has it that during those tumultuous times, Whiskey Creek was a smuggler's haven, a clandestine route where illicit liquor was transported under the cover of night. Bootleggers, with their sleek vessels and nerves of steel, navigated the winding waterway, evading law enforcement and delivering their precious cargo to eager customers on the mainland.

Whiskey Creek became synonymous with adventure and danger, as tales of midnight chases and daring escapes echoed through the swaying palms. Despite the risks, the allure of quick profits drew many into the bootlegging trade, turning the tranquil waterway into a
bustling hub of illicit activity.

In the 1920s, Las Olas Boulevard in Fort Lauderdale was more than a scenic route—it was a lifeline for rumrunners. By day, its quiet charm masked its nocturnal secrets. Under the moonlit sky, smugglers unloaded crates of illegal alcohol from hidden docks along the New River. Sleek boats, known as "rumrunners," darted from the Bahamas to Florida, navigating treacherous waters to evade Coast Guard patrols.

Locals whispered about secret tunnels beneath Las Olas, where contraband was stashed before being whisked away to speakeasies. The boulevard's elegant facade hid a roaring trade, making it a key player in Prohibition-era Fort Lauderdale.

The Stranahan House was built in 1901 by Frank and Ivy Stranahan. They are considered to be the founders of Fort Lauderdale, and the house sits in the heart of modern day downtown. In the past 125 years, this structure has been a trading post, community center, post office, home, boarding house, The Pioneer House restaurant, and is currently a museum.

Ivy was a strong woman with many beliefs including education for all, Native American rights, votes for women, and more. It is rumored that during her temperance meetings, Frank would sneak some of his friends and illegal spirits onto the Stranahan House property to imbibe while his wife was distracted.

During Prohibition, Fort Lauderdale’s New River became a lifeline for bootleggers. Its winding path through mangroves provided perfect cover for smuggling operations. Sleek boats loaded with rum and whiskey from the Bahamas slipped through the shadows, guided by lantern signals from hidden docks.

Locals played their part, unloading crates into secret riverbank hideouts before the law could catch wind. Tales of daring escapes, like boats vanishing into fog or outrunning Coast Guard cutters, became legend. The river’s tranquil facade belied its turbulent past, where courage and cunning turned its waters into a clandestine highway for the era’s most daring outlaws.

STILL BARELL AGING

STILL BARELL AGING

STILL BARELL AGING

STILL BARELL AGING