A 'bight' in nautical lingo signifies an indentation in a coastline that isn't deep enough to be a bay but is protected enough to allow boats to anchor there.
The ferry terminal is at the east end of the Bight, across the water from the coastguard station.
The interior of the terminal, closed when I was there for this early morning visit, is quite modern with shops and stuff to amuse people waiting for the ferry to Fort Myers.
The ferry terminal is also the terminus of the boardwalk that snakes its way around the bight all the way to the Galleon Resort on Front Street.
The centenary of the arrival of the East Coast Extension will doubtless be celebrated with jamborees and festivities next January and doubtless I shall have more to say, as wordy as I am, but for the time being all is quiet on the Flagler front in Key West. There is one ferry arrival each day and they tromp up here to get into the building.
The coastguard station across the water is on land created by Flagler's engineers who ran the railroad tracks across the reclaimed dirt and built ferry docks at the train terminal over there. Passengers disembarked to ride the boats to Havana, freight cars rolled directly onto the ships, and on the return journey brought tropical fruit for rich people in New York to enjoy in winter.
Ferry terminals and ports are serious business these days. Even in Key West there is all manner of Federally Mandated Security. Terrorism is reduced to 'terror,' a state of mind we are supposed to wallow in all the time apparently.
Not being authorized to do anything I just kept walking my dog until I could see the Tank Island Whore, as she used to be fondly known by those who objected to the conversion of unused Tank Island into the suburban paradise of Sunset Key.
Without the old landing craft trudging back and forth the millionaires and movie stars of Sunset Key would be stuck with all sorts of trash, and no deliveries of good things to eat or sit on. The landing craft are docked in what used to be called The Toxic Triangle. Boaters lived here for free in waters fouled by the effluents expelled by the old Steam Plant Electricity Generating Station. Now converted into luxury apartments currently on sale at a fifty percent discount. That still means one point six mill to you hopeful plebs out there.
Arriving by ferry means sweating one's way into town in a manner both uncomfortable and not at ball suave, therefore one suffered the use of Paradise Porters who will guard luggage and deliver it. A brilliant concept conveniently located in the parking garage on Caroline at Grinnell.
A neighbor was fascinated by my Labrador refreshing herself in a puddle. He called his wife to then balcony to look.
That pink tongue is mine, all mine and don't you forget it.
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