An hour to burn of a Spring afternoon so why not check out the lighthouse on Whitehead Street?
The first thing people remark on about the lighthouse is how far it lies from the beach. There is method to the madness because the original wooden structure was washed off the beach in 1847 so they then decided to build the brick one a little bit inland. And here it is at the corner of Whitehead and Truman in the middle of Old Town. The tower is supposedly somewhere near 90 feet tall and the light inside still works, powered by a solar panel, but it is a tourist attraction these days:
Its a ten dollar admission fee (10%off for local ID) and with that you get a chance to go shopping for gee-gaws:
You get to peer at the old Fresnel lense that sits inside the admissions building looking very glassy and fierce:
The lighthouse museum complex is quite the little compound, a grassy, tree-covered complex of buildings which includes an 1887 lighthouse keeper's house:
Its a wooden home with luscious honey colored tongue and groove paneling all round inside:
There's the usual audio-visual presentation along with a ton of knick-knacks from the period, including clothing, household items and the like to illustrate the life and times of 19th century residents. The dark interior contrasts nicely with the sunburned exterior:
There are 88 steps to the viewing balcony at the top of he lighthouse, and it comes as something of a surprise to me that the place is wide open and anyone can stumble all the way up to the top. There is a sign advising children under 16 need an adult in tow, which isn't a prospect I would relish, what with all those steps winding their way up the tower, keeping up with a youthful bundle of energy:
The copper hose next to the stairway was installed when the light converted from kerosene to acetylene which must have seemed like an improvement to all concerned. I took the steps by storm, and happily didn't meet anyone half way up. There is no room to pass, it would be an intimate affair and these people are tourists so they have no clue how to alleviate social discomfort with small talk in awkward situations...But in the fullness of time one reaches the top and there one finds a fresh breeze and safety wires strung everywhere:
I lucked out on the day I chose to climb the tower as there was a fresh westerly breeze blowing and the air was cool and invigorating. It was on the west side where one can see the lump of La Concha Hotel rising about the little houses of the city. I took a picture of a cute Conch cottage...
...a church (with La Concha bigger in the background)...
...the roof of the Hemingway House...
...and this amusing guesthouse that used to be a gay hang out and when I was a boat Captain I used to recommend families visit the lighthouse forgetting there were scads of naked old men all over this building and its pool. Oh dear, but these days its gone straight so the excitement is gone:
There is a fair bit of greenery all around the city even after the heavy hurricane seasons of 2004 and 2005 wiped out a number of trees, but there are spots that show a lot less trees:
And in the distance always the beautiful blue waters around the city:
Back on Earth after a harrowing enough descent even without meeting anyone down below, there was shade to enjoy in the grounds:
And a little traffic watching on Whitehead Street:
This week the city is celebrating Conch Republic days, a lighthearted end-of-winter celebration that in some measure remembers the wilder days in Key West when wrecking was a legitimate way to make a fortune. The lighthouses pretty much put paid to that as they helped keep ships off the rocks. As a sailor, I still appreciate the role of lighthouses in helping find one's way at sea though a lot of people think GPS has put paid to the usefulness of lighthouses. And so the world turns.
We're not quite there but we are definitely getting close. Last week I put the boat in the water and tied it up at the dock behind my house. Having a house on a canal is a wonderful thing, and sea waters are close enough to 80 degrees now that swimming will be an almost daily activity till the second cold front of the Fall. Choosing between the motorcycle and the boat for recreation will cause me some severe indecision between now and November.
My house lies about a quarter mile from the open waters of Newfound Harbor along a canal that is bordered by quite a few homes and mangrove bushes. It seems crowded but it's quite wide enough for the snorkeling boat that leaves from Looe Key Resort each day and takes a few dozen people out to the reef 7 miles south of Newfound Harbor. My neighbors keep some pretty impressive boats at their docks:
When we bought the house my wife and I decided we wanted to scale back and get something small and simple to tie up at our dock, a boat that we could use with very little effort or preparation each day. We ended up with a 14-foot used Dusky self bailing center console, and it has no lights or electronics. We have a 25 horsepower Yamaha that can push the boat up to 23 miles per hour, as I have measured it. For a sailor used to lumbering along at 6 mph such speeds still seem astronomical. The Yamaha also uses very little fuel which these days makes casual boating very easy to enjoy:
In addition to not enjoying getting blind drunk every day I dislike fishing which puts me in the minority camp in the Keys as far as recreation goes! I love to swim though and having the ability to jump in the boat and go for a quick swim any day of the week is a big part of the pleasure of summer for me. My wife gets home at say 3, we get in the boat and go swim till 4:30 and I have time to shower off the salt water and get to work by 6 pm. That's another great reason to work nights, the afternoons are still mine to go swimming... On my days off it stays light till past 8pm this time of year so we can be out on the water for a long time in the evenings. This is the corner of the canal as it turns out into the open waters:
That's Newfound Harbor beyond the channel markers, an almost circular body of water whose shores give wave protection from any direction the wind blows. Our neighborhood association planted a bunch of official looking channel markers after Hurricane Wilma trashed the old ones. The channel is cut from coral rock and is only wide enough for one boat at a time:
But once out there is an abundance of places to drop the anchor and enjoy the water:
In the distance here is Little Palm Resort, at the entrance to Newfound Harbor, where they charge up to $1200 for one night in one of their cabins. It's a resort where wealthy famous people sometimes commandeer the whole island all for themselves to live for a week in privacy the way I live all the time...You can see a big white blob which is a boat tied up to their docks:
Little Palm is actually a very cool spot, much nicer than I imagined it would be before I went there. And for $125 a person you too can take a ride out on their launches (only overnight guests can use their docks) and have a bang up brunch on a Sunday morning. Its sounds grossly extravagant and it is, but once a year we treat ourselves (with a locals discount. Hey my wife is an absolute bulldog when it comes to sniffing out those discounts!). You get the usual buffet choices and the chef cooks up as many sampler breakfasts as you can order and eat. Unlimited gluttony, as it were.
Ten minutes away from my house. 
I worked the weekend, Saturday night, Sunday night and Monday night and my afternoon hours on the weekend I spent at home with my wife before I came into work. 
Old City Hall is a church-like brick building facing Greene Street with wide sweeping stairs, a clock tower and windows and doors of institutional proportions. This was never built as a home but as a place where important decisions are taken, a place where communities gather and hear their leaders. Which is lucky because that is precisely what it is. Upstairs there is a typical formal chamber with the city commission's seats set in the classic oval on a dais, and we the people sit below in orderly rows of chairs. Old City Hall was replaced by City Hall on Angela Street (a collection of buildings that have become ramshackle and are scheduled for replacement), but the commission itself still meets here on a couple of Tuesdays a month, as there is no meeting room at New City Hall on Angela Street. 
The side doors open to offices underneath the meeting chamber upstairs. This used to be the offices of the marine Sanctuary until the Eco center was built on the waterfront a couple of years ago. I find the handicap parking stickers on the doors to look rather odd, and I wonder why they couldn't have stuck them on their own poles. The exterior is imposing but 
I circled the block, walking down Ann Street to Caroline Street and form there down to 
Back on Caroline Street I paused to snatch a picture of the home of Florida's first millionaire, the house that carries his name, Curry Mansion Inn. Wrecking and trade were good businesses for Key West's 19
They rent out 22 rooms by the night and offer tours all day long for the curious. The blue ceilings on the 
Back at Old City Hall I had time to take a gratuitous motorcycle picture just to prove I rode there I suppose, as though that makes a difference:
I think this was an 
I am not a collector, except perhaps of stories. 
What a mysterious looking city!
So, tell the truth: you want it all, you want a home in Key West within walking distance of the bars, you want your own pool, an indoor/outdoor breakfast nook and porch, lots of tropical greenery and a two car garage to keep your Vespas and Bonnevilles out of the corrosive climate. Well its all there readily available. If you have say three million to spend. US dollars; less if they are Canadian Loonies, even fewer if they're Euros and just one and a half million British pounds. Have at it and you might get lucky these days and find something for a third that.
It surprises some people to discover Key West has distinct neighborhoods, quarters as they might say in foreign parts. I like The Meadows best, then there's Bahama Village ("the Village"), some people prefer the modern homes on larger lots in New Town, other wouldn't consider living outside Old Town, and Realtors have invented a new area called Mid Town, but if you can claim an abode in Casa Marina, why that is something to boast about. Not really, but some people drop their quartier into conversations like you or I might be impressed.
Casa Marina is on the south side of the city, and its boundaries may be a little vague but you'll know when you are there. Look for nice lawns, lots of plants (for some reason all the wealthiest neighborhoods everywhere have the most greenery, as though hoi-polloi don't deserve trees). The heart of the neighborhood is here:
What Henry Flagler did as he built railroads down the east coast of Florida, was he put up destinations for his trains, a series of luxury hotels for people to spend the winters in. His extension to Key West ended at Trumbo Point, which his engineers built from landfill to accommodate the ships that went to Havana. But many of his passengers wanted to spend the winter in Key West, and this is where the well heeled did just that, at Reynolds and Seminole Streets:
And across the street there are some people getting a good deal on a pricey neighborhood. Key West is rarely all of a piece and even amidst expensive homes, rentals lurk:
And check this one out, campy Hawaiian anyone?
I envy this home its rather cool brickwork which I'd like to see covering my gruesome pea rock some day when I care enough to pay to get it done. Looks nice to me though (the bricks not just the Bonneville): 
Others have big walls, this one with the ventilation slats (for want of a better term) are quite popular:
Others have big hedges, really big hedges:
Or big roofs:
