Some pirates are busy pirates others are more laid back:
Taking their ease on their homes afloat. I remember doing this and now I'm up at all hours working, and enjoying it too. I don't envy him, his sunny retirement, which surprises me.--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--
The lack of combustion in his Honda Aero 750 got him down a bit, and I decided to get involved with my car and my trailer. Diggy is the only one of two other people who work at the police department who regularly commute on two wheels. I felt he needed an outside boost. He seemed grateful as we set out for the shop at Ken's place across town.
Sometimes things get overwhelming and all it takes is a little help to get the ball rolling. No word yet on why it died so completely but we rolled the Honda into some mechanical therapy. A broken Honda, imagine that.
This is summer time at Smathers, which means flat water, bright sun, sparkling waters and a book, or an Ipod or something electronic and a deck chair:
Or for the busy people wanting to enjoy a vacation there's the possibility of a painted ship upon a painted ocean:
It was far out trying to find a breeze. And failing. Not so busy after all.
Everyone likes a shot of Duval Street. This one hit my whimsy button when I saw a sale sign on the sandal shop. I've never seen Birkenstocks on sale until now:
I imagined the unwary realising their mistake in arriving in the Southernmost City with unsuitable footwear and finding these icons of funky footwear at BMW prices- on sale. While I was on Duval I spotted these umbrellas at the Pegasus Hotel, Key West's Art Deco establishment with a rooftop pool:
One way to spend a summer afternoon. But not me I was out taking pictures, including these happy youngsters enjoying their 50cc freedom. It reminded me of me 40 years ago, carefree and young, at least in my memory:
Nostalgia being what it is I ducked into Fast Buck Freddies department store for some cold air and I met a couple of coworkers from my time there five years ago. I enjoyed working in shipping, it was a challenge but the police paid better and offered overtime. I like dropping in on Fast Bucks especially as our anniversary is coming up and She will be glad to be surprised with something when I decide what it is.
I sheltered from the heat in the Aladdin's cave gloom of the store where I bumped into a couple of my former coworkers who remembered me, a minor miracle in a town with the turn over of Key West. John the manager is starting to think about retirement after three decades with the store, a remarkable life of stability in Key West. We talked and it was a pleasure to hear his thoughts on Costa Rica, tinged with regret at the thought of leaving a town he himself describes as special, even after all those years dealing with its trials and tribulations. 
I came for the air conditioning and got an uplifting chat. A nice and unexpected treat.
New York City is apparently sucking up all the available hybrid cabs as all 13,000 in the city are supposed to be fuel efficient in a couple of years. We got half a dozen to much fanfare. It's an unlikely looking solution to Peak Oil, but I gloomily suppose every little bit helps.
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43 units are being planned for Key Haven, that place this series of vignettes started at. They want to pave over the mangrove islands and build a "community:"
Naturally I say leave well enough alone not having a stake in the profits to be made from this enterprise.
This is the entrance to a place known as Enchanted Island, home of anglers and mangroves. Soon to be a luxury community near you. And The Blue Paper is alleging loudly the city manager was hired after he retired from the Navy as a quid pro quo for moving jet flight paths from directly over this wealthy community and inflicting them instead on the impoverished trailers of Stock Island. No comment say I, wondering whatever happened to the concept of muzzling the press.
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Many many years ago in a fit of pique at the job I was tired of, I applied from cool foggy California for a job in the town of Sitka, Alaska. Someone I knew who was familiar, he said, with the Alaska panhandle, told me it was a fine place to live. Lots of rain he intimated but not especially frigid. Thus it is I have a fondness for blogs that describe life in the frozen North. I wonder what might have become of me had the job materialised for me...It would not, I think have been a good fit. I read of acts of daily heroism coping with snow in July, fog, rain and monstrous costs of living in a land with not many recreations that appeal to summery weakling like me.
I find myself content with rich deep greens and blues and the white sunlight, a long glass of icy lemonade and a book. This sort of thing I can do year round in the deep south. My kind of place.
The effect of this one is spoiled by the tape fencing and plywood- all made necessary following last months big blaze that displaced three businesses from this building on White and Virginia Streets. There's a tiled mural at the airport:
I found this fearsome depiction midway up, or down, Duval Street:
Whatever else it is, it certainly is something other than the usual depiction of sweet tropical flora and fauna. Like that found at Higgs Beach, decorating the public loos next to the Salute restaurant:
This is a popular hang out for our residentially challenged residents. However on my visit to the beach I found fewer than usual, occupying the decorated pavilions. I'm never sure if the groups of homeless really notice or appreciate the delicate pictures painted on their temporary shelters. I do:
Next to Higgs beach there's the White Street Pier, often jokingly referred to as the former bridge to Havana. The entrance is another form of public art, the Aids Memorial, a depiction of the island chain and lists of names etched into black marble.
Unlike the dork in the photograph you aren't supposed to ride your rented scooter on the memorial. Further up white street animals come to life. I seem to recall in my misspent youth acquaintances of mine bought clay animals that sprouted leaves when watered. I think they called them Chia Pets and the inventor made a fortune similar to the one made by the inventor of the Pet Rock. Indeed there was a time when people wasted money buying "pet" rocks. But I digress, there's a giant Chia outside the NOAA weather station:
Weird huh? Across the street is an older landmark, a tiger welded out of metal in front of Glynn Archer School. It happened in dispatch one afternoon I took a call from an agitated Spanish speaker and in response to my "Adonde estas?" she wailed "El Tigre!"I turned to my colleagues and asked where the hell the tiger is. Once learned never forgotten. It is kind of obvious on White Street:
Graffiti is not the worst problem Key West suffers from but scrawls show up from time to time and get residents incensed. This I saw on Seminary Street and I couldn't figure out what it meant. A lamentation? An accusation? A boast?
And on Catherine Street not too far away some creative soul long since painted a tree stump to resemble a technicolored octopus. However the ravages of time and inconsiderate drivers have taken their toll:
I figured I'd better photograph it before it vanishes... Pineapples are supposed to be a symbol of welcome in the islands,perhaps because they are sweet, perhaps because they are barbed and rough or perhaps because they were a bugger to grow in Key West and expensive to import from Cuba. You will see lots of pineapples carved in gingerbread style all round the island, some more graceful than others:
This rather brash example was on Duval Street.
A neighbor watched me stop and park the Bonneville and after I took the picture told me the actual vehicle is parked inside. An added and unexpected touch.
It would be nice if he got what he was looking for, because I only got a piece of the red mosaic for my trouble. I made a spectacle of myself at the triangle stopping in the median to take a picture of the no-longer-new sign at the entrance to the city. They managed to park it right behind a road sign on the way in making it almost invisible. On the way out its clear enough:
A few years ago my wife was in the checkout line at Publix when an anxious tourist came by and asked the cashier how many more miles to Key West? The city never did care much one way or the other and it was left up to the Rotary to plant the welcome sign. And there it is.
Outside the Stock Island Hilton at 3 am. That by the way is the jail, in jest so please don't call asking to make a reservation- its like one of those other hotels where you can only get in, not out. And the artwork inside is mostly shades of cream and gray.
The Key West Airport is rather grandiosely named but there is nothing international about it. They did try a couple of flights to Nassau for a while but it seems that not enough people wanted to fly direct to the Bahamas, so that died a death. As far as I know the only regular international flight was one rumored to come out of Honduras with frozen seafood to supply local demand. Plus of course we get, from time to time a plane load of Cuban refugees who hop across the waters to join us in our capitalist enterprise. Be that as it may the County Commission decided the airport was too small so they voted about $26 million dollars to upgrade the facilities.
Last week they found out the job is going to cost more than $40 million. The contract has been rife with problems and accusations and investigations and still they plow on building a new terminal on and on and on...The new ramp that collapsed killing a Guatemalan worker is now being disassembled, presumably so they can try again a second time. I'll bet they aren't doing that for free.
The thing about the addition, like so much of the new construction in Key West over the past decade, is that it's out of proportion to the needs and character of the city. There's no arguing the old terminal could use some work, it is not the most modern facility, especially in light of the security requirements since September 11, 2001, but this?
Mercifully from South Roosevelt the profile of the new terminal is reasonably proportioned, thanks to the mandated height restrictions:
Herman Wouk wrote a book a few decades ago titled Don't Stop The Carnival about expatriate trials and tribulations on a small Caribbean island, and for some reason the old Key West airport puts me in mind of that book. Is this not irresistible?
Powered two wheelers still get easy parking near the arrivals hall, and the mastodon in the middle of the scooters in actually my Bonneville:
Seen above, the new terminal is on the right connected with the abominable glass walkway to the current terminal, which is visible in the background with its shady overhang and outdoor benches, shown here: 
Key West offers very expensive connecting flights from Continental, Delta, US Air and American Eagle, but the planes are small and many are powered by propellers:
However even the commercial jets that land at Key West are on a diet. The runway is too short for them to take off fully loaded so only a portion of the seats are filled. The runway can't be extended without mangling the salt ponds at either end and the mangroves are protected. So far progress has been impeded but one wonders how long it will last. Marathon has a nice long runway but it's fifty miles away and can't seem to retain an airline no matter how much money it offers them to use their airport. 
The thing was, passengers went from here to the outside walkway where they went through the security check, but people grumbled that the security check itself wasn't in the air conditioning, and there are no loos in the air conditioned "secure" waiting room, all of which is either charming or irritating depending on your approach to island time. Apparently they solved one problem even before the new terminal is finished. If in doubt read the homemade sign on the door:
And a lot of travelers enjoy the offerings of the Conch Flyer bar and restaurant which is not going to survive the renovations in its current form, model planes and all:
The arrival area is like any other airport, only...smaller! And considering how few people fly on each aircraft all the kerfuffle about the staging areas and security and stuff seems overblown. This is an airport that handles a couple of dozen passengers per flight, at most. Just one baggage conveyor handles all arriving bags:
And from here one steps out to a waiting line of cabs:
Or one rents a car if one sees a need to on this small island. And from here its a few short yards to South Roosevelt and the freedom of the Conch Republic and its turquoise waters:
However the airport expansion is bringing with it a couple of other issues as well. For locals the loss of The Pines, the open space next to the East Martello Tower in front of the new terminal has been a shame. Now I grant you that it was a gathering place for our scruffy residentially challenged but I wasn't alone in enjoying the shady waterfront benches from time to time.
Now its a construction parking lot and will soon be replaced by pretty gardens to please the eye of the passing visitors. 
On land currently occupied by employee parking:
And the state driver and vehicle licensing center which hasn't harmed anyone so far as I know and deserves a better fate:
