Lobster Fest is one of those events put together to fill a summer weekend in a town that needs a constant flow of visitors to survive the summer doldrums of the tourist industry. Chuck was thinking about his road trip to Maine, the place where some people say, one goes to get real lobsters, not Florida's crawfish...
Chuck and Wayne weren't setting out on the road with the deliberate intent of snubbing Florida lobster, though there was a fair bit of lip smacking going on at the mention of New England lobster rolls. At our house they fortified themselves with blue corn pancakes and fruit salad and chicory coffee before their long drive Up North.
After that my wife and I somehow resisted the afternoon heat and stayed home. I was going to work at 6pm, she did some work during the afternoon with fellow teacher Josh, preparing for the new school year which starts August 23rd.
Cheyenne napped, exhausted from her morning walk. I played with my camera until it was time to leave. Duval Street, an hour before my shift started, was a different world. Commerce under the sun.
The Key West Citizen reported lobster fishermen in some cases decided to get their catch to the festival in an effort to get slightly higher prices. 
I don't mind the flavor or texture of lobster but I find it hard to get enthused about eating an animal that, left unmolested, might live 120 years. What that has to do with it, I couldn't really say, but since I found out how long these harmless, defenseless creatures live, I have found it hard to eat them. An Italian ice looked like a good idea to me.
There did not seem to be vast, overwhelming crowds on Duval Street this year.
There were enough people around to keep this guy amused.
The tower on Old City Hall had some competition. I prefer the tower to the bottle as a symbol of the city.
Or the bare chested cyclist, of which there were several stalwarts on hand to represent the southernmost city.
I thought this sign was more than usually harsh. Not every vacationer wants to move here. 
The idea of the electric car as recycling bin held some appeal for me. I wish these vehicles could be allowed to drive just a tad bit faster on city streets.
Happiness was beer and lobster for some. 
Lots of lobster.
Seen this way the poor thing looks like the alien from the movie of the same name. Creepy.
I just don't see the pleasure of standing around in the sun balancing a paper plate and struggling with bendy plastic cutlery. If it's lobster I want I would pay to sit in comfort and eat it. 
I am in a minority of one in this heresy.
The dust catcher stalls lined the street.
A Key West event without a parrot (another excessively long lived animal) is not a proper event. 
Lobster appeals to everyone. 
St Paul's looking magnificent in the afternoon sun.
I think in a month or so Duval will be home to the swarms of Bike Week. I don't know how I will amuse myself till then.
Chuck and Wayne weren't setting out on the road with the deliberate intent of snubbing Florida lobster, though there was a fair bit of lip smacking going on at the mention of New England lobster rolls. At our house they fortified themselves with blue corn pancakes and fruit salad and chicory coffee before their long drive Up North.After that my wife and I somehow resisted the afternoon heat and stayed home. I was going to work at 6pm, she did some work during the afternoon with fellow teacher Josh, preparing for the new school year which starts August 23rd.Cheyenne napped, exhausted from her morning walk. I played with my camera until it was time to leave. Duval Street, an hour before my shift started, was a different world. Commerce under the sun.
The Key West Citizen reported lobster fishermen in some cases decided to get their catch to the festival in an effort to get slightly higher prices. I don't mind the flavor or texture of lobster but I find it hard to get enthused about eating an animal that, left unmolested, might live 120 years. What that has to do with it, I couldn't really say, but since I found out how long these harmless, defenseless creatures live, I have found it hard to eat them. An Italian ice looked like a good idea to me.There did not seem to be vast, overwhelming crowds on Duval Street this year.There were enough people around to keep this guy amused.
The tower on Old City Hall had some competition. I prefer the tower to the bottle as a symbol of the city.
Or the bare chested cyclist, of which there were several stalwarts on hand to represent the southernmost city.I thought this sign was more than usually harsh. Not every vacationer wants to move here. 
The idea of the electric car as recycling bin held some appeal for me. I wish these vehicles could be allowed to drive just a tad bit faster on city streets.Happiness was beer and lobster for some. 
Lots of lobster.
Seen this way the poor thing looks like the alien from the movie of the same name. Creepy.
I just don't see the pleasure of standing around in the sun balancing a paper plate and struggling with bendy plastic cutlery. If it's lobster I want I would pay to sit in comfort and eat it. 
I am in a minority of one in this heresy.
The dust catcher stalls lined the street.
A Key West event without a parrot (another excessively long lived animal) is not a proper event. 
Lobster appeals to everyone. 
St Paul's looking magnificent in the afternoon sun.
I think in a month or so Duval will be home to the swarms of Bike Week. I don't know how I will amuse myself till then. 
I caught this happy picture of flags fluttering in the breeze over the mothballed coastguard cutter at the Truman Waterfront.
And these happy campers enjoying a waterfront vacation in the old officer's quarters at Shipyard Condos.
This is where the ugliness began. Our day on the water at Looe Key saw me enjoying a fair bit of snorkeling with an occasional dive just a little below the surface.
A nice boat ride home with the feeling that water was getting trapped in my ear. Slightly annoying.
The feeling got worse at home until I lost all hearing in my right ear. It was a moment of panic when i realized i was completely deaf on my right side. I called out sick at work and my wife stuffed me into the car. I am not a fan of the excessive wait in the Emergency Room at Lower Keys on Stock island so my wife took me to Fisherman's in Marathon, a smaller much easier to deal with place. They hustled me in and sat me on a bed. The doctor came by and looked in my ear. My panicked look must just have egged her on. "My God!" she uttered, startled, looking in my ear with a scope. "It's a giant black booger!" WTF? Was that a technical term? "Check this out!" she called cheerfully to the nurse. "I can't see his ear drum at all!" 
"My God!" I said, "it's enormous!" And so it was. suddenly I could hear again and I wanted to kiss the nurse. She was not amused.
"Nice picture," she said inspecting my camera in between picking up pieces of the black booger that sprayed out of my ear. "Pretty much how I feel." And I was happy to see her put the syringe away. I was never so happy to get back in the car and drive Cheyenne and my wife home.
Supposedly this place will be an eco friendly lodging using recycled water and stuff like that. It is certainly filling the old El Rancho footprint right to the edge.
Bird crossing. 
And then it was time to go home; my favorite (and only) commute, this time in broad daylight. coming up to Mile Marker 14 in the Saddlebunch Keys. 
Happy hour invovled half priced wines among others so we talked properly lubricated. It seems the great State of Virginia has an adherent in this native daughter. She described a land of four seasopns, which are apparently very important , even the cold and snowy ones, for proper human happiness.
And such is the desire to see Virginia's modest snowfalls in Roanoke, Sandra apparently prefers to spend vacations in Key West in the summer. Or perhaps it is the uncrowded pace in the Southernmost City at this time of year.
We split an appetizer tray which was a crafty move on my wife's part as Sandra doesn't eat dead pig. So we got the prosciutto and salami and only had to share the cheese and vegetables. After an extended bout of eating and drinking and talking we got up and stretched our legs and camera lenses. Results to be found here: 
We took Cheyenne for a walk on Truman Waterfront and dropped Sandra off at her guest house. The next day, mysteriously, Sandra showed up ready for a boat outing with a bundle of noodles under her arm. It was mysterious because noodles are just what Chuck and Wayne need for their boat. 
Chuck, known to his intimate friends as Captain Crabmore (nice and supportive of you, Wayne) got us off the seawall with no drama and we put out to sea again. A few days ago we went to American Shoal lighthouse; this time we were going to check out Looe Key, a famed snorkelling spot south of Big Pine Key.
On our journey through ther mangroves we spotted a strategically located table, which had not been there on pur previous trip, a few days earlier. Chuck and Wayne were preparing for their own road trip in a few days and they were determined to get some quality boating time in, before they headed North to New England and it's frigid waters.
The day had been looking a bit iffy with a fair bit of cloudiness and a threat of rain. To my surprise the mooring buoys were remarkably busy on the reef. A fact attributable I suppose to the schools being out until August 23rd, more's the pity...
The only portion of Looe Key that rises above water is a rock or two, awash at low tide, so this place really is just a reef and not an island at all. 
Not this sailboat- they got it in one.
They were anoisy lot in the water shouting out their finds to anyone within remotest hearing range. I think they were a bunch of youth on a field trip and I dare say it was a rip roaring success judging by their happy cries.
We swam and ate sandwiches and chips and drank (mineral water) and dipped and snorkeled and swam and ate (home made brownies) and napped and swam. Wayne: 
A crowded reef:
We saw dark clouds on the horizon. Blog reader Sandra spacing out:
Wayne looking butch below, in reality anxious to get home to his dogs, Zuzu and Tootie, who were guarding their home with an anxious Cheyenne, abandoned to their collective fate in the air conditioning.
We're going to get rained on, was Chuck's prediction. 
The rain came down, the camera got put away. My wife made noises once again about buying a waterproof submersible camera for our boat trips. I took Sandra back to her guest house. She had been looking for a different adventure for her last day in Key West. I think this qualified.