Boat Fishing Summer

Ambling home on the Overseas Highway I looked to the left of me and I looked to the right of me.


As it turned out most of the fish killing action was to the left of me, on the Atlantic side of the road, the south side if you talk like a mainlander.


There you are out in the ocean and your fishing guide stands on his platform and poles you along. When the flats pole is in action in means you are in shallow water, no matter how deep it may appear.


Some of the time is spent buzzing about on the horizon.


A lot of the time is spent maneuvering the boat on and off the trailer at the free launch ramps provided courtesy of the gummint up and down the Keys.


The view from the Highway to Key West is quite pretty especially in the Lower Keys after the Seven Mile Bridge where the road crosses more water and winds through fewer mangroves.


I often think of the boaters looking up at me driving or riding on the highway imagining that I am envying them their freedom.


I used to be glad when I was on the water away from speed limits and traffic lanes and crowds. At some level I miss the silence and skill of sailing but driving a motor boat has not made me a convert to driving an engine across the water.


I have found that sporadic use of a salt water immersed engine takes work to keep it functioning. Work and money, which is true to se extent of any boat.


Even though I am not one to pits my wits against fish a boat with a bed and a sunset view is still a pleasant place to be.

And around here, like Parrotdise on Little Torch Key there is a dock provided by the restaurant to encourage visits by water.


Thats the fantasy ultimately, jump in the boat at your dock and drive across the water to dinner without once stopping at a stop sign.


After last summer's desperate struggles with my bolshie outboard I find the smooth reliability of my twin cylinder Bonneville much more satisfying.


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Kojin Noodles

My colleague Fred has been working his way through the menu and every evening at work his praise rises higher for the new noodle shop on Southard just by Duval Street.




It looks cute enough from the outside but when I figured out the nice to go hatch it occurred to me that lunch wasn't going to be air conditioned on this 90 degree afternoon.




And the cooking goes on in front of you which would be a nice touch in artificially cool air. I took a seat at the counter which did not get me immediate and rapid service but I had the newspaper to keep me company even if the server had better things to do. The cook smiled though as he put together a roast pork sandwich on naan.




It was the eleven dollar special so I ordered one as it came with miso soup. The place offers half a dozen pho type dishes, Asian noodles vegetables and meat and only one vegetarian offering, a rather boring looking miso with tofu. My first Asian restaurant not catering to vegetarians.




Small bowls for ten bucks, giant bowls for 18 so I figured a soup and sandwich would give me a quick look across the menu board. The naan was soft flavorless and not the least crispy. It was the reason I wanted the sandwich, as I love naan, who doesn't, and I miss Indian food. The miso was full of mushrooms and dark with flavor. The sandwich had a weird sauce that tasted of mashed liver which gave me pause. Luckily I had a teapot with hot tea to wash it down. Unluckily the server was quite surprised by my request for hot tea but I am one of those weird people who like hot tea on a hot day to cool my skin by sweating slightly. I had some mystery tea bag from an old tin hidden behind the counter and left it at that.




Here is the cheerful cook filling eighty dollars-worth of pho bowls.




Maybe I should have had a nine dollar beer to wash it down. As it was I spent $14 and left a three dollar tip. Oh and when it came time to settle the bill, also requiring an age to wait, I was told with no prior warning the credit card machine was down. Luckily and unusually for me I had a twenty dollar bill, else I'd have had to add an ATM fee from the Bank of American Crooks machine up the street.




I could have spent nine bucks on an El Gaucho Ernesto burrito from badboy up Simonton Street and sat in air conditioning.
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Leafy Carsten Lane

When I need to walk and think I come to the little winding
paved road between William and Margaret Streets.


This was the first lane I "discovered" in Key West years ago.


I still like it as much as ever and I bring visitors here for a quick taste of what back street Old Town looks like.


My wife, the alternative education teacher, wears a star fish pendant as a reminder of the story about the guy walking the beach at low tide tossing the suffocating star fish back into the water. "What difference is that gesture going to make on a beach filled with suffocating star fish?" asks a passing skeptic.


"It made a difference to that one," replies the young man tossing another star fish back into the water where it can breathe. My wife tries to teach one failing child at a time despite the administration's hostility.


The school district is suffocating for lack of money under crappy self serving leadership. Teachers and students don't have money or leadership and the parents refuse to lead the charge to raise money for the schools. No one in charge supports throwing any star fish back in the water around here.


Under the current administration even a three dollar per parcel tax increase for the schools seems like throwing good money after bad. Three dollars wouldn't go very far in helping refurbish this wreck:


But somebody has seen fit to invest the money in the collapsing old structure that has been moldering away here for a while.


The other moldering bold structure around here is now hiding behind a new and fully formed hedge.


The Harris School is still available for development or rent or something, one gets the feeling for anything at this point. The city has given up the idea of putting the new city hall here.


But back to the matter in hand. This is quiet leafy Carsten Lane where it takes a wild (for Florida) curve:


Leafy shady lane.


Little wonder I like this little street. Look at it.


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400 Block Caroline

The clothing optional bar at the top is just the tip of the iceberg when you look at the whole building on Caroline and Duval.


For people who prefer adult beer in adult surroundings there's the Porch and it's craft products in the Porter Building across the street.


This block of Caroline is part of the tourist route.


Chain food is here too, the not inexpensive Brazilian barbecue joint. The meat platter at the bar is affordable.


The Lost Weekend has been around long enough to be classed as an institution.


And if that doesn't work there is the alluringly named Mr Cheapie's.


Among all these businesses a home owner needs to stand out to avoid trippers traipsing across the garden:


The Steve Walker parking lot, meter free. It's a hell of a business renting dirt for stalled vehicles.


I think this is a guesthouse but it looks like it belongs in Louisiana. Very pretty.


I have to come to terms with this piracy lunacy. As far as the history books tell us pirates were in New Providence in the Bahamas after they were kicked out of Old Providence near Nicaragua. The anti piracy squadron was based here, not the pirates. Oh well, truth and a good tourist myth should not be mixed.


Empty porches overlooking a lovely shaded street.


Sort of lovely, Grunts has come back to life across the street selling beer in a garden.


Lanes and alleys line the back of Duval:


Stools waiting for customers at Kelly's. This is quiet season after winter yet before summer vacations bring families. It's my preferred time of year.


This sign is actually true they say. Though it has lost some of it's cachet sincePan Am went bust and disappeared.


The four hundred block of Caroline looking north from Whitehead Street.


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Garden Of Eden

I am not a fan of public nudity as a general rule, which makes Fantasy Fest a time of trial for me when then town fills with people eager to abandon their clothing. Year round the top of the Bull on Duval encourages this sort of thing.


I have never been up top, despite the fact that clothing can in fact be worn.


Let's face it, cameras are banned and thus it benefits my insatiable need for blog material not one jot to visit the paradise of nudity.


But bugger me. Look what I saw from street level! Does this picture not confirm for you the sound common sense of my decision to stay away?


And that is as close as I shall ever get. For the greatest good of all concerned. For sunbathing I have my own private deck thank you.


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