Island time Family style.........from K

We stayed in Key West longer and had more company than any other port - what a blast! E & her beau, Nick, jumped right into island time with a reef fishing trip, diving, and grooving to some great music. More blues anyone? My nephew, John and his sweet, sweet girlfriend, Sara orchestrated our dives, a quick shopping trip and a few happy hours. Sara introduced me to Kino's - a great find for island sandals. Just when we thought the party was over, my sister and her husband, Karen & David, arrived to keep the party going. One highlight was Mel Fisher's, a collection of treasures found in a sunken Spanish wreck off the Marquesas back in the 1980's - a fascinating find. I'll let the photos tell the rest although we're really bummed we didn't get photos of everyone - who's camera were we using anyway?

Does the "1" mean the first happy hour?













E was a little eager to go diving.














P with the boat's biggest catch (snapper and grouper - P did not catch either one). Nick caught a red grouper almost as big as the one in P's left hand.

full circle................. from P

"He said, I ate the last mango in Paris, took the last plane out of Saigon, took the first fast boat to China, and Jimmy there's still so much to be done."

The legend of Captain Tony is alive and well in Key West. Tony Tarracino was a shrimper, gambler, charter boat captain, gunrunner, mayor of Key West for two years, hard drinker, possibly a spy, a romantic, and father of 13 children (some say by as many as 8 different women). My education about Captain Tony began when we toured Ernest Hemingway's home place. Hemingway spent many afternoons at a little bar known as Sloppy Joe's here on the then sparsely populated island. The bar's owner was the adventurous man's man around town, Captain Tony. Many people think that several of Ernie's later literary characters were modeled around, or at least inspired by Captain Tony. One day Hemingway was making his walk over to Sloppy Joe's but found all the furniture being thrown out into the street, including the kitchen fixtures, toilets, and all. Apparently Cap't Tony had a spirited disagreement with the landlord and decided on the spot to move the bar somewhere else. Ernie asked Tony if he could have the urinal laying out on the sidewalk. That urinal became a decorated fixture on the Hemingway estate, and is still currently the communal watering dish for all the cats.

Fast forward thirty years. Captain Tony's Saloon is down the street and around the corner from Sloppy Joe's (now owned by ... who cares?). One of the many kids who played guitar and sang for tips at Captain Tony's Saloon was an adventurer of sorts himself. Tony took a liking to him and became a father-like figure, inspiring him to sing about the islands and to take some chances himself. The kid sang at the Saloon for $10 and three Budweisers per night. Of course, that was Jimmy Buffett. Now while you are drinking a beer at Captain Tony's you can still get a feel for the spirits of old Key West that died with Capt Tony. Broken tile, semi-dirt floor. A "Tony Tarracino for Mayor" sign. A huge Chinese Fig tree growing right through the ceiling. No kitsch. A basic band stand, a pool table, a damp earthy smell. A feeling. I wanted to sit there all night. I came back the next day and looked around some more.

Even though it was one of my favorites, I never really understood the song "Last Mango in Paris." Now I do. There is still so much to be done. Here's to you Captain Tony.

Sunday lessons............from K

While everyone headed out for a second day of diving, I took a day of Sunday solace. I packed my rasta bag and headed for St. Mary's Star of the Sea Catholic Church - a gorgeous walk from our marina through old town Key West. It was easy to find - I just followed the sound of the church bells, "Be Not Afraid." The church is a 100 year-old white stucco building with large window/doors along the sides that open up into a courtyard. Being the beginning of Catholic Schools week, the church was decorated with banners from the adjoining school. The homily focused on keeping the school opened now that the diocese was closing dozens of other schools due to budget problems. This parish is able to keep this school open by cutting back on faculty, voluntary pay cuts and VOLUNTARY tuition increases - pretty inspirational.
The priest read an essay by a 6th-grade student, who quoted St. Therese of Avila who said, "Our faith is the fruit of what has been planted in our souls" - (or something close to that -help me, Dick!). I thought about my sporadic years in Catholic schools and the lessons of service we were taught. We didn't just collect canned goods and have them sent to a food shelter. As a class, we visited the nursing homes and played games with many of the lonely elderly, learning their names and returning monthly to visit with them. We were taught that service to others is a responsibility and a way of life. I cringe when I hear others talk about their "traumatic Catholic school days." Yeah, Sister Anthony was a little scary, but she also taught me to proof EVERYTHING twice before I submitted it - a lesson that has served me well. Sister Eileen taught me that a thoughtful, handwritten note is more valuable than a gift. Yes, planting these seeds are important.
In honor of Respect Life Sunday, the Knights of Columbus led a rosary behind the church in their grotto (a lovely reproduction of the grotto in Lourdes). I love the rhythm and unity of saying the rosary with others. When the leader got to the prayer for unborn children, his booming voice faltered, he paused and drew a deep breath, then his voice broke and he cried through the rest of the prayer. I think we were all moved by his emotion. Once again, I thought back many years when I was first pregnant with my E. She was "unplanned" and "inconvenient." Several people urged me to do the "responsible" thing and have an abortion. If not for my early seeds of faith, perhaps I would have chosen to end her life. Thank God I didn't. Instead, I am spending the most glorious weekend of my life with her, celebrating her 24th birthday, exploring the miraculous underwater beauty of this earth - and having a little bit of heathen fun too. I lit a candle for E - to honor her life, and to pray that the seeds of faith planted in her continue to grow strong and bountiful. And I thanked God for sending me here to this churchyard, to remind me that my life does indeed have purpose. I may not see the full picture now, but I have a growing faith in goodness. Amen.

another world .................. from P

We finally got down there. 25 feet down today. Our oldest daughter, E, and her boyfriend, Nick, flew down to key west for four days to hang out with the old folks. K's nephew from Miami and his girlfriend (John & Sara from the previous airboat blog) drove down also. John towed his powerboat down, so the six of us rented tanks and equipment to fill in the holes of what we don't already own, braved the 2-3 foot chop, and headed out on a reef diving excursion! At first it was tough going. The flat bottom boat was pitching hard against the chop as we wrestled on our BCs, weights, and tanks. With 3 to 5 mil wetsuits we were more bouyant than expected in this super salty water, so K had to scramble back onto the boat to add more weight. That is tough work when you are loaded with equipment and the boat is slapping up and down 2-3 feet at a time. Sara stayed on the boat, helped out, and kept watch. Once we were all finally "at depth" - wow! We glided through alleyways between walls of coral reef teeming with odd, colorful fish. Past big brown, orange and purple coral, under a ledge, up through a school of light blue fish. Around a bend of more coral ledges, John waved and pointed under a shelf - two big caribbean lobsters were eyeing us. John quickly reached around behind one and grabbed him! After a few minutes he let him go - panicked, the lobster shot away from John like a bullet - straight into my crotch. That was one of the many surprises today. Tomorrow we are going back out to do a deeper dive on a wrecked trawler. I can't imagine a more interesting and fun day than the one we had today, but I have said that a bunch of times already on this trip, so I will try to just stay open to whatever happens.

Day of History: Obama & Hemingway...from K

P & I started the day by dingying into Paradise Cafe to watch the inauguration of Obama. We had the cafe to ourselves and basked in watching the grand proceedings on our private widescreen TV. We decided that Michelle looked quite regal in her gold apparel and Barack was cautiously optimistic in his speech. I was disappointed with Rick Warren's prayer - far too Christian, and failing to embrace the universality of our nation or our intentions. Do Jews, Hindus or Muslim pray "The Lord's Prayer"? As we ate our Cuban breakfast, the restaurant filled up and we were joined by our Va. sailing friends, Dave & Gayle. It felt very American celebrating this day in Key West - we are the visitors in this town, yet many of the "belongers" we've met are from Cuba, England and the midwest. What a unique country we are.

Our afternoon was spent at Hemingway's 1920's home: a palatial house with gorgeous tropical gardens and a huge swimming pool - which apparently cost him his second marriage. Most memorable are the 45+ six-toed cats meandering around that have no interest in the hoards of visitors. If you want to see the cats at play, the house has a live-cam outside the carriage house (Ernie's writing studio): http://www.hemingwayhome.com/ Behind the studio is a cat cemetary, the home to Marilyn Monroe, Zsa Zsa Gabor, etc.

This is 'Archibald MacLeish' taking his afternoon nap. Even our guide looked like the rakish Hemingway with his white beard, piercing eyes

and safari hat.

Here we are with Gayle & Dave, fellow sailors from VA -

Ernie's 2nd wife put in this pool (and took out his boxing ring) when she found out he was canoodling with the soon-to-be wife #3. Ernie wasn't happy...

A portrait of E's writing studio - in his writing studio

P standing next to the urinal that Hemingway took from Sloppy Joe's Bar and placed in his backyard for decoration. How convenient.

Race to Key West............. from K

Like sailing into the New York harbor last fall, sailing into Key West is a euphoric high. I barely dared to talk about doing such things because they seemed beyond me. Kind of like the first time I told someone that I wanted to learn to sail and in the back of my mind, I thought, "liar, you'll never do it." And yet here I am. What makes us pursue some dreams and not others?

Sailing into Key West is -as most things for me -much better than my imagination. The breeze was stiff (15 to 20) and it was the Acura Key West Race Week. Wow!! Huge, colorful spinnakers popped as hundreds of boats circled around us on three different courses. In truth, we were careful to stay out of their way and admired the sailors' skill and the boats' grace from afar. P was impressed with the rapid, tight tacks of the racers, and I was blissfully entertained being at the helm, and in my mind, "racing" every boat out there. We came into the harbor at the end of the day with the other boats and the air was strong with exhaustion, excitement and a sense of a good-day's work. Yes, competition fueled by a pounding sun and blustering winds is a good day's work. I know, I know - I can't compare it to the worthwhile time spent teaching a classroom of kids or spending a day with an ill parent, but it's the kind of day that feeds my soul, that makes me feel excited to be alive - and refreshes my resolve to be more generous and courageous. Isn't that a necessary part of life too?

Win, place, and show!

P & I headed for the mooring field on the north end of the island of Key West. Two tries and we lassoed a mooring ball (no tethers here! it's bring your own). Pork chops on the grill, then a night of being slapped by whitecaps in a strong west wind. I love even the disappointing surprises that make the Keys (this trip?) so unashamedly simple.

The southern-most point in the U.S. !

Floating houses!

Just a cool picture of a cutter rigged ketch.

paying the price.................... from P

It had to happen. We had 5 or 6 perfectly gorgeous days, 80 degrees with a 10 to 15 knot trade wind. Now we are stuck between two back-to-back fronts. The first one passed through last night, blustery and wet. I checked the anemometer around 11:00 PM - it showed 23 knots. No problem, we decided to wait until today and sail on to Key West in the afternoon. That was before we saw the updated NOAA forecast: another front coming through starting in the wee hours of the morning tomorrow. This one promises to produce sustained northerly winds of 25 knots for three or four days - with gusts to 30 - so change of plans. This time of year, you gotta pay the price of the winter northerlies in order to enjoy the tropical lulls. We are currently anchored in a well protected harbor between Big Pine Key and Little Torch Key, and we are especially well protected from the North. If we sailed on to Key West there are only a few places to anchor, none of which would give us good lee protection. So we played it safe and decided to sit tight. I put our secondary anchor in the dinghy, carried it out 80 feet away from Senara, about ninety degrees from the angle of our primary anchor rode, threw it over (remembered to tie the other end to Senara first) and pulled it in tight. So now with two anchors set we are ready for the anticipated four day siege, so long as our groceries and fresh water hold up. Our boat club friends (Dave and Gail) are in a marina near Key West. I just learned that they caught a flight home and drove their car back down here! Nice to have friends with wheels! So tomorrow we will see Key West after all - just that we will arrive in the back seat of Dave and Gail's car rather than Senara's cockpit. Actually it will be nice to get a guided preview.

Ever had a $75 lunch for two? Chalk it up to another "first" for me. The great part is that it was almost worth it. On the way around the point of Big Pine Key lies the super exclusive Little Palm Island Resort. We just guided Senara up to the dock like we belonged there. We were met by an older gentleman dressed up like Captain Stubing on the Love Boat who told us we had to have reservations or be a guest, just to have lunch. Before we headed off, a very nice hostess walked down the dock and first asked if I had a shirt with a collar on board. Once I assured her I would change clothes, she said we could have lunch there if we would behave. We had an absolutely fabulous lunch in an incredibly luxurious tropical atmosphere while watching a photo shoot of professional models on the beach below us. I guess you gotta pay the price.

Shooting the shoot.

Zen Garden

"Cabana boy! Move my knight"

The Blue Book.........from K

All I asked was, "Where should we go in Key West?" And out came the Blue Book, the coupons and a pen. Kenlyn consulted her Blue book and made a list of the best Happy Hours, the times (some begin at noon), the dinner specials and the addresses. Her Blue Book was her private directory of everything important to her - including her home's wallpapper swatches. I was mesmerized as she giggled her way through a tour of Key West for us, complete with celebrity sightings.

P & I were at Dockside Bar (aka: Sonbrerro Marina Office on Marathon Key) when we lucked upon Kenlyn and Louie. They spend 4 months a year on Big Pine Key escaping the Wisconsin winters. And they are FUN!!! Kenlyn & I spent the evening laughing at the "blind" bartender and sharing life stories as if they were comedy routines. P & Louie talked sailing, fishing and the Keys - a perfect match. We must have told them we were heading down to Bahia Honda Key to anchor out, because two days later when we sailed into the harbor - there they were!! An instant party. They graciously invited us over to the "campground" - a gorgeous resort filled with interesting retired art teachers, geologists, and quirky people who don't mind living unconventionally. We played with the friendly Key deer and then headed to NO NAME PUB - A NICE PLACE IF YOU CAN FIND IT. What a blast. It's a little island restaurant known for its pizza - and everyone who has ever been there tapes a dollar to the wall, ceiling, bar, etc. It looks like a million dollars! The guy sitting next to me said the latest estimate is actually at about $300, 000. Who can count that high? We made our contribution and spent another evening laughing at nothing and everything. P & I even got added to Kenlyn's Blue Book.

By the time they took us back to our island, the park rangers had locked the gate. Who knew? No problem - we went back to their island, jumped on Louie's boat and he took us back to our boat. It was a full perigee moon and we only ran aground once. Again, no problem - Louis and P jumped overboard, gave the boat a few pushes and off we went. I could live like this - no problem.

Welcome to Bahia Honda Key!

Now that's what I call a happy hour.

Bahia Honda Beach

Key Deer - small, docile, cute, and you are not supposed to feed them.

P & Louie. These must be the beer goggles I have heard so much about!

Adding ours to the collection at No Name Pub

the cavalry ........................ from P

We carefully picked our way along the channel markers into Marathon Key harbor knowing the water was thin here. I watched my sounder move from 8 feet to 6 feet to 5.5 feet. It is freaky when you can clearly see the bottom, and it looks impossibly close. But we had a slip reservation in a fun marina at the very end of the harbor, walking distance from town. Plus there were hundreds of other boats, most bigger than us, in here. So we ghosted ahead. We split the red and green numbers 18 & 19. I looked ahead and found 20 & 21, but along the way there was a row of four floating red diamonds (shoal markers). To the right of the shoal markers was a mangrove marsh about 60 or 70 feet away from the markers. To the left was a huge mooring ball field with boats tethered to them, again with about 60 or 70 feet in between. 50-50 chance. I chose to take the side where I saw boats floating on their mooring balls. Wrong call. We (once again) experienced that sick instant where you feel the boat's keel plowing into a mud bank. I reversed the engine, gunned it, made a lot of noise, stirred up a lot of white mud, and did not budge. I double checked the tide chart - yes we would gain another 6 inches of water over the next two hours - so I just need to relax and wait. Lo and behold! A small squadron of three inflatable dinghies came zooming toward us from somewhere in the fleet of moored sailboats. The first dinghy to reach us wasted no time with formalities, he just asked a few pertinent questions; "What type of keel do you have? How much do you draw? How deep is your rudder?" Soon, the lead dinghy had my main halyard tied to his stern and was pulling Senara over from the top of her mast, toward the port side, to create an angle in order to lessen the depth needed to clear the keel. The other two dinghies had snugged up to our starboard side near the bow and were pushing like two little tugboats. On the third attempt we were off the mud bar and back over to the correct side of the shoal markers. I never learned their names. As I was hollering "thank you" a hundred times, one of the guys said I was the second boat today, and the fourth boat in a week to get stuck there. They said to just consider myself a member of the club. This was yet another experience of other sailors' willingness to help someone in a jam. My debt grows larger. Just a few guys with dinghies, hanging out on their sailboats, drinking beer, and willing to help. To me they were the cavalry who came to save the day.

Islamorada..................from K

It's been 6 days since I've been on dry ground. I must say that I was eager to dinghy into Islamorada this morning. I wanted to see other people, to use a regular bathroom and buy shampoo. But once on land - and after a great lunch of conch soup and a fresh fish sandwich, I kept looking back at the water. The 'restaurant' where we ate is more like a big tiki bar on the beach with chairs and tables that look over the boat harbor. We could see Senara swaying in the sun. And I just can't get over how perfect it all is: the hot white sun is cooled just enough by the gentle breezes that come in off the water - on both sides of the island. I never dreamed that I would have such a perfectly gorgeous day, let alone a whole week of breathtaking sunsets, colorfully funny fish and delicious breezes. So after a day of visiting shops - of course a book store - and meandering through a private resort, I am happy to return to my own little island of a boat. She has everything I need right now.

Florida Bay

Lorelei's at Islamorada

I did finally see a manatee. It was in Miami when P & I were provisioning the boat. A fisherman said a manatee had just passed under the bridge, so I ran to the other side and I almost missed seeing it because I was looking for an animal the size of a dog - this one was more like a rhinocerous. He looked like a great big 3000-pound baked potato. He was moving only about 2-3 mph but I understand they can go as fast as 15 mph. I wouldn't want to have one chasing me. He seemed pretty docile though - just big! Also, P learned that the "Barracuda looking fish" he described in his blog below was indeed a Barracuda! I am Glad I didn't know that when he was staring at me.

the reef..................... from P

Everything is a different color than "normal." Of course, the first thing you notice is the water: interlocking streaks of aqua blue, cobalt blue, and a very light swimming-pool color. The bottom around the coral is white sand with patches of brown grass. Even the sun looks different - very white.

It was a big decision to navigate through Angelfish Cut and come outside the chain of keys (key chain?) into the Hawk Channel. Hawk Channel is about two to five miles wide and ten to twenty feet deep, running between the keys and the reefs on the ocean side. There are only two other places along the keys to transit between the bay side and the ocean side, so it is a commitment. But it was a good decision. At the North Dry Rocks we tied Senara to one of the mooring balls that have been graciously provided for snorkelers' use by the park service. Even though it extends 6 miles or so off shore, the entire reef is part of John Pennekamp State Park. It was a little nerve-racking to steer Senara up into a reef with waves breaking on the coral not more than 50 yards away, but the moorings are well placed so we tied on and jumped in. Actually, while we were pulling on our wet suits, I noticed the boat was moving - sure enough the mooring ball tether had somehow worked its way off the bow cleat and we were free drifting (thankfully toward the channel, not toward the reef). I thought to myself: self, what would you have done if we were both snorkeling and looked up to find Senara gone? Self could not come up with a good answer. So the second time we caught the mooring ball tether, I cleated it tightly on one bow cleat, then took another line and lashed the teather across to a second cleat. Even while snorkeling I peeked up a few times just to make sure she (the boat) was still there.

Once we settled in the water and cleared our masks, we found that colorful, silent other world. All the colors came toward us. First, a school of small yellow fish hanging around a patch of purple fan coral. Then a big colorful clown fish and a large white flat fish with a purple streak down his back. Then white sandy bottom, and a huge (3 or 4 feet long) silver barracuda looking fish, which I can never remember the name of. That's when K squeezed my hand hard. Later we were back on board sunning ourselves and our gear, wondering if we had just been dreaming again.

K getting ready to go

Mooring balls at the reef

Blur of realities.............from K

Yes, I'm back on board, but my thoughts are still with my Dad back in the hospital and my mother having to make impossible decisions. I spent almost 3 weeks with them - in and out of the hospital, up and down at all hours of the night, so it is a bit of a struggle to fully appreciate the penetrating heat of the Florida sun and the gorgeous, clear water bluer than pool water -- just yet.
My Dad developed a dangerous infection in his chest cavity following the surgery, which blurred his view of what was real and imaginary. Interestingly, he always recognized all of his family members - even his newest granddaughter-in-law, and he would ask us appropriate questions like, "how are the girls?" and "where is your next port-of-call?" Most of his other meanderings were not so lucid. We heard endless details about a cruise he was planning for the entire family from New York's Lake Chautauqua (his childhood playground) to the Everglades. Yes, the entire family was going to caravan in pontoon boats down the coast and the CIA was guarding our mission. His details and itinerary were so convincing that sometimes we almost forgot it wasn't real. Likewise, one night in the hospital, while I held his hands to remind him not to pull out his chest or nose tube, he insisted he had to get out of bed to get me something. I told him we could get it later, but that wouldn't satisfy him. Finally I told him to tell me what it was and I would get it for him. He said it was a chart of the Tortugas. He was insistent that I sail there, and it was very important that I go to Jefferson, "a very old place with forts and embattlements." I guessed he was getting confused with our earlier talk about our visit to St. Augustine, and told him so. He insisted that I should sail to Jefferson and told me so several times. Finally, I agreed I would try, knowing full well that there was no Jefferson and sadly added this adventure to his other stories of delirium.
A few days later, I flew to Miami on New Year's Eve and met P at my sister's house for a needed reunion. P was eager to review the charts for our trip through the Keys and I half-heartedly perused the chart as he suggested a tentative itinerary. The Keys are a convoluted morass of funnily-named islands, sounds and harbors. And there, 70 nautical miles west of Key West, near the Dry Tortugas, is a little island, home to Fort Jefferson, a historic point of defense and Civil War prison. My spine tingled. Although I berated myself for not having believed my father, I feel much better knowing that I'll keep my promise to Dad. Fort Jefferson is scheduled for February - maybe we should make it a family excursion.

back underway .................. from P

I have both of them back. My wife and my transmission. The transmission was still under warranty, and K is finally back on board - yeah! We set out from the marina this morning under sunny skies and 76 degrees, sailed for a few hours and anchored behind Pumpkin Key. Getting back into the groove - boiled some shrimp and watched naked people on another boat diving into the water. We did not use the motor much at all today, but the transmission feels smooth and everything is working great. Thank you Karen, David, John and Mike for making our extended visit so comfortable and fun. Now we have our compass set at 180 again and we can't wait to see what happens next!