Power Boats

I was quite surprised to find I was not alone in choosing to photograph the beached power boats at Truman Waterfront. The boat races ended last week and these few boats were left, the rearguard of the body of boats that had already streamed off Up North after a few days of buzzing round Key West harbor like angry bluebottles.

I got this picture off http://thisweekontheisland.blogspot.com/ to return the favor to Doug Bennett for his compliments on my blog.

They put up these rather cool tent-like structures to protect the poor dears from the weak winter sun. They looked rather handy."Over sized load" indeed. These boats carry a lot of strange baggage with them. In Key West mention of power boats tends to evoke the same sort of reaction as Bike week gets. People that like engines and racing extol their virtue as one more form of tourist income. Opponents of noisy blue bottles dashing dementedly around the harbor ignore the wealth potential and wish them gone forever.I fall somewhere in the middle. When I used to work as a sailboat captain they were a mild nuisance, pretty much as they are a mild nuisance on the Overseas Highway as they trek slowly in and slowly back out. Beyond that their noise and roiling wakes leave me indifferent. From a distance they look sleek and rather scientifically improbable. Close up they carry fiberglass scars like any boat that has come up hard against an immovable object.What they do is pretty much what's illustrated here: They buzz up, with a quick u-turn at one end of the course whereupon they race madly back in another straight line. Whoever does this fastest wins. The Citizen had a breathless report in the sports pages of the gut wrenching excitement of a close finish to the races but it wasn't what really interested me.I am no great sports fanatic but power boat racing seems crazy to me. Drive in a straight line one way then go back the other way. Enormous skill is involved I'm sure but really...so what? The whole business rather reminds me of the car race in On The Beach by Nevil Shute. The end of the world is closing in on Australia and in one last burst of fun they organize a car race to burn off the last of their hoarded gas. In a world where future energy supplies are a subject for debate (among some of us) the idea of burning fuel to do this seems weird. But there again, no more so than a lot of other human activities.I've been told that it takes millions to run one of these boats competitively and they are just one more play thing for the Lear jet crowd. They seem to have fun with it.I had fun with the camera, as incomprehensible as I find this stuff.Frankly I am no great fan of sail boat racing either even though I know how to sail. I think that stuff is pretty boring from a distance too, but boats are always cool to photograph.It was a pleasant sunny afternoon and I enjoyed wandering around keeping an eye on Cheyenne as I went.I turned my camera on the ramp where they launch these behemoths and found this guy looking for dinner.Who won? I haven't got a clue.

More Old Key West

Don't you love wordy notices that, reduced to their bare essentials say: please be well behaved. Which if they were going to be well behaved would mean they would need no sign to remind them how to behave.I was so astonished when the puppy pictured above rolled on his back in act of submission to a bleary Cheyenne I forgot to take his picture until he had moved on half a block. Cheyenne spent a good twenty minutes grazing around the base of a kapok tree at the Old Harris School on Southard Street. http://conchscooter.blogspot.com/2008/11/harris-school.html The school was in the running to become a cultural and art center through the Rodel Foundation, which never happened and the place is now supposedly going to become office space for rent.I'm not sure this next picture worked as well as I intended but I liked the silhouette riding past Mangia Mangia.This is a spiky palm which is about as botanical as I can get. There are tons of these around and I really like how they look.

Classic old Key West, a small house on rocky supports, wooden shutters and door. Welcome to the almost-Caribbean.

This lady shuffled by carrying her dog, Francisco, who as far as I could tell was a year old and recently orphaned and came into his owner's life as a replacement for her much lamented and recently deceased dachshund.

When a safe distance from the fearsome Cheyenne she put Francisco down and they resumed their conventional perambulation. It's that time of year when you can sit in your car with the door open and you don't need to button it up tight and crank the air. That rates this is the pleasant time of year.I was sitting next to Cheyenne and looking across the street I saw this odd play of light and shadow.It was a balcony at the island House seen below in it's context.

This old decoration for the rest Fantasy fest was lurking in Fast Buck Freddie's warehouse, where Cheyenne took her second pause of the walk.Endless downtown roadworks to install storm drain improvements, they say.

I have omitted to photograph this mural which was completed some time ago. Now my omission is rectified.

I have been on a con leche diet for some time and I miss the coffee and cheese bread fix. I'm thinking it's been a while since I photographed a Cuban meal (or snack) for the blog. For the blog of course I might have to yield to temptation. Old Key West on James street, still hanging in there.Sometimes there are slow dogs as well on James Street.

And slow bicycles on Olivia Street

And they weren't in a hurry, but they did eventually pull over for me.

I hung back and was very patient and polite, as one should be. Looking below I am very fond of unintentional irony. Especially from Realtors who would sell their grandmothers if you believe their advertising. The newspaper said yestersay that home sales in Key west are as low and as slow as they have ever been. I think sellers need a reality fix if they think homes will sell for as much as they did four years ago.

I haven't eaten at the Southard Street Bobalu's though I have enjoyed the odd bit of southern food at the original Bob and Lu's on Big Coppitt Key.

Old Key West? Probably not but it looks kind of old and funky and all outdoorsy.

Breakfast With The Boys

At first glance it looks like we were invited to a pre-dawn meal with Wayne and Chuck.Their Sugarloaf Key home looked inviting for dinner.And, by way of insult we had to walk past their Earthboxes, the ones we bought for them in Key Largo at the RV store. Their plants, the ones they bought with my wife at the Big Pine Key flea market are flourishing. Ours have been eaten down to tiny nubs by iguanas all over my Earthboxes. Grrr."You okay with breakfast for dinner?" Chuck (the one with glasses) asked. Wayne had told Chuck that yesterday was the night he wanted pancakes and sausage for dinner. When they invited us my only query was whether one was allowed to have wine with breakfast."In this case yes, " Chuck said. "There are no rules." That's nice; I was in.
Cheyenne got her dinner, a bowl of sizzling rice sprinkled with cooked chicken. "She does like her food, " Wayne remarked as Cheyenne threw herself into the bowl headfirst. He then disappeared outside on a mission which saw him return with a carefully wrapped bottle of red plonk to accompany dinner. Apparently thanks are due to a mysterious sprite who lives up the road who calls herself church or chapel or possibly abbey according to Chuck who was not very forthcoming. She apparently learned of my taste in tippling and sent along a note with the bottle. It was very reassuring.Thank you Abbey. The surprise and astonishment were complete.So we sat and tippled and Wayne and Chuck navigated their way around the dogs and produced breakfast for dinner. Zuzu and Tootie, shy as they are, were not about to be left out. From living as fearful rescue Vizlas they are learning to be out and about among people, just like their trainer Cheyenne. The pancakes were safe from their depredations behind bullet proof glass, the sausage patties were sizzling and Wayne's fluffy muffins were getting a coat of sugar sauce. This was not a meal for the faint of heart. I make no claim to be a people person and pointing the camera at Wayne produced a look Lucifer might have been proud of. He's quite nice really but my camera bring's out the eccentric in people.

Cheyenne likes this place and not just for the rice and chicken, or the fussing she gets from the boys but also because their floor is cool and comfortable. She immediately adopted the alligator position.

We loaded our plates in the kitchen and Wayne was hungry enough he moved like greased lightning with his food out to the terrace. Well, he looked like greased lightning through a slow shutter speed.We ate and drank and talked, on a delightfully cool fall evening, 71 degrees and no humidity.

Full of wine and breakfast I slouched and admired the black view out over the water.

My colleagues at work have been telling me about this new TV series which they think is fascinating- English unarmed cops and the Crown Prosecution Service. We watched an episode about child abuse which was as heavy a meal to digest as pancakes and sausage, but Top Gear had me laughing soon enough. Wayne and Chuck have the cable TV system that lets you record stuff to watch later. If we had cable or satellite I'd loose the ability to move off the couch there is so much to see. Netflix and an absurdly small TV screen are enough for me. I am weak and television is strong.
We made our goodbyes and took off for home. Pancakes and wine. It really does work for me.