Higgs Beach People

I am finding that Salute at Higgs Beach is becoming my preferred place to stop for the pause that refreshes. We were in the middle of discussions about what to do about the dying Nissan and my wife said "Let's have the appetizer plate at Salute!" So we did.

Like Gilbert and Sullivan's Lord High Executioner I had a little list, not of society offenders who never would be missed, but of used cars I had seen on line for sale Up North. This was a good place to ponder so that was what we did.My wife is in the fortunate position of having tenure in the school district but there are many other heads that are rolling as next year's budget is slashed. She has been under a fair bit of pressure at work and sitting on the beach waiting for a glass of wine was just the moment for her to vent. Luckily I had my camera to hand to record the moment.These floating things are gaining popularity as they allow the occupant to float while being cooled by the water rising up through the mesh. Or you could just get a boat to float your...boat. I have never been much of a fan of lying on the beach in the sun but I am alone in this, and I know for many this is the epitome of a proper vacation:Higgs beach offers all the usual beach accoutrements, including lounge chair rentals, bicycle racks and palm trees:And women sitting around in their underwear talking on the phone. One gets the impression she may be rather more dynamic then him.I was not the only observer though I was sitting in the shade with a glass of red and a larger glass of iced water so I was a lot better off.Key West is not known for it's beaches not least because there isn't much to them but also owing to the rather shallow water all round the island.I wonder how some people coped before the advent of cellular telephony. I coped just fine and I planned to ignore my phone should anyone have the temerity to call.Here's another of those weird fads, standing on a surfboard and paddling the thing.
All the disadvantages of skiing with all the disadvantages of surfing and none of the pleasures of kayaking. I deduced that the bloke in the next picture lives aboard someplace nearby and as he prepared to close the concession stand for the day he was readying his boat for his commute.

Here's another way to get home and avoid studying the scenery as you flash by:It's faster by bike though that may not be the point. And more damnable cell phones.

Despite the fact that Higgs beach is right in the middle of the city of Key West it is in fact a county park and the Monroe County Sheriff's Department has instituted an off duty detail for the beach to keep order and encourage citizens to use their beach.Many years ago there used to be two deputies assigned daily to patrol the beach and after they were cut to save money the local population of bums took over the park and made it untenable for people not interested in drinking and fighting as beach activities. The situation got bad enough that the patrols were re-instituted to bring order to the park and it seems to be working nicely.The county has tried to tempt the city to buy the beach (for a buck) but the city has estimated upkeep at a quarter million dollars a year and promptly replied No Thanks. The beach is actually named for Clarence Higgs, a former mayor of the city and there are still Higgs' living in town.

Nowadays it's an orderly and pleasant place to spend a sunny afternoon. Try it, you might like it and I don't think a plate of nibbles at Salute will go down the wrong way either.

Oil Still Spilling

I got home after a trip to the metropolis and discovered in my absence life has been continuing in the Keys. Including a visit to the island s by Grand Poobahs of various importance from the company that wants to be known as Beyond Petroleum. They held a sudden press conference apparently, not aware of the coconut telegraph that allows everyone to know everything and found themselves taking questions from concerned citizens worried about their livelihoods. The paper doesn't report how that went down but probably not well, as corporate representatives rarely have to mix it up with the people who are fearful of getting the actual taste of how Beyond Petroleum will flavor their lives. The good news is the Loop Current, which would bring oil to the Keys, is sliding south and a wide gap is opening up between the oil and the current. The bad news is Louisiana is getting screwed again. The fact that the Coastguard and local officials are talking about how to protect our shoreline is good but creepy. That all the corporate players involved are trying to pass the buck according to the paper is even creepier. They are sounding their own death knell it seems to me as they have absolutely no idea how to behave down here where we live on the frontlines.

Bridge Fishing

From November 2007 this essay on fishing which, as will become apparent is an activity about which I know nothing. I had lost track but it seems there are about 1260 essays logged on this blog from when I started in Summer 2007. I had a few to choose among for these replays. Here's the thing: because I live in the Keys I am supposed to enjoy fishing: but I don't. I have fished, I have felt the wiggle of the captured critter on both hook and spear, I have whacked fish on the head, I have filleted them (inexpertly I might add) and the whole exercise fills me with horror. Beyond all the blood guts and scales I find the notion that I should spend hours of my precious life staring idiotically into the deep blue sea hoping to pit my wits against a fish to be...grotesque. Worse yet the fish might prove beyond doubt they are smarter than I. And my final argument against casting a line is that in the Keys there are numerous excellent fish shops that sell 'em fresh and raw, and even the most hopeless hole-in-the-wall has to work very hard indeed to make a hash of a plate of fish inevitably cooked by frying grilling or blackening. This enigmatic chair disappeared from the old bridge connecting Big Pine Key to the misnomered West Summerland Key, a few days after I photographed it. Damned if I know how they got it there...Just another fishing mystery, I suppose. And believe me when I say that I am very much alone in my despair at the entire culture of fishing. To live in the Keys and not to care to fish is like a priest living in a brothel, not only is it a stupid waste of time in your neighbor's eyes it is damned near immoral. And I even have a skiff at my dock, which I take out all the time! Just to go swimming? How bizarre!

Its a sad day when I have to haul the boat out of the water, but its just too cold to go swimming anymore, with air temperatures under 80 degrees and water temperatures barely holding at 75, though they both feel far lower. The boat is now on the trailer enjoying my mechanical attentions before it gets set aside for the next few months. Were I an angler I would be reduced, as it were, to fishing from a bridge; as it is I'm just going to miss wandering around the back country and swimming in the tepid, clear waters of the Keys.
Driving down the Overseas Highway if one can take one's eyes off the turquoise waters, there are simply tons of people fishing from the bridges formed by the old road which was created from Flagler's original Oversea Railroad bridges which are now approaching their one hundredth birthdays, and remain as solid as ever despite the State's fearfulness.

Monroe County works at keeping the near shore waters clean, providing containers for unneeded mono filament line which kills birds, fish and mammals when abandoned in the waters, as it usually is. There are also lots of trash cans placed everywhere a needy fisherman might want to use one. They don't prevent trash from ending up along the road, but the trucks which haul garbage from Key West to the mainland since the incinerator (that produced electricity from waste as a bonus) was shut down in favor of a sweetheart deal to a garbage hauler, let fly a whole lot more trash along the road from their inadequately covered trailers than fishermen dropping wrappers and cans.

Florida residents, as far as I can figure, don't need a license to fish saltwaters from a structure and locals do love to chase fish from these old bridges. You could call it a family sport. Some people are elaborate anglers, planting tents, hanging bright gas lanterns, sitting in chairs, sipping (sipping?) beer and reviewing the state of the world. Others head out with a bait net and lots of hope. All they need is a little help from their friends.At night their lights give them the appearance of campers huddled round the campfire,telling impossible fishing stories, possibly the best part of the whole standing around waiting for a bite thing. By day women bend over parapets revealing their lack of coverage, men prop their guts on the same concrete barriers, and families who fish together frequently, it seems, stick together. Its all terribly jolly.However the evidence of the lack of casting abilities of the many, droops from the overhead cables that carry electricity up and down the Keys.
It depends on your point of view whether these strands remind you of Spanish Moss or worse. For me it depends on my mood but I do enjoy seeing the spoons twirling in the sunset winking at me as I motorcycle by.

The sun drops on the end of another day, and aside from the few anglers out in the cold front breezes of a crystal clear night, commuters zip by on the new bridges, the odd motorcycle rumbles by and the tide comes running in bringing with it who knows what.
Only the fishers of fish know, lucky them. I wish I had it in me to be one of them.

Pigeon Key

First published October 2007 I haven't been back to the island since, so I figured this might be a good time to re-run these pictures as my Internet outage has left me short of fresh material. I can hardly believe it's been 30 months, and by the way, the bridge as far as I know, is still open to the train and bicycles and pedestrians. Nothing much seems to have changed, on the ground but there was one scandal reported in the newspaper that alleged misappropriation of funds from the non profit that runs the place. So many years have gone by and yet I have never visited Pigeon Key. Until now that is, and I am a better man for today's excursion even though it didn't involve a motorcycle. My wife did suggest taking the Vespa, which is running perfectly but it was a windy day and my wife's arthritis is acting up and blah blah blah...we took the car, which was very comfortable, thanks.Pigeon Key was a way station as Flagler's workmen built the Oversea Railroad. Hundreds of laborers lived on the four and a half acre island while engineers sank concrete caissons to support the railroad over the water. Similar in all respects to the submerged concrete used to build its contemporary, the Panama Canal, through which we sailed in the last months of the American Administration.Pigeon Key sells its history and nowadays it supports itself as a non profit, as well as a place where young people can come and attend environmental camps in the old lodgings.

The day was perfect for it, breezy, sunny and not too warm, not too cold: just right! The ticket office is, naturally parked on rails, with a not too obtrusive 12 kw a/c unit underneath the non ADA compliant steps. Flagler's East Coast Railway and Key West extension is part of the state of mind that still floats through life in the Keys,untrammeled by change, at leats for the time being.

The tour costs non locals $11 and includes a ride out to the island over the old seven mile bridge. The ride reeks of cornball of course but it does get the happy visitor a splendid view of the water, a view that may soon be ended by a massive, unfunded effort to repair the railings on the bridge. Some engineers want to declare it unsafe and plans are in the works for a ferry service while the repairs are done. The estimates are in the millions so we wanted to take the ride before it is ended for who knows how log. Corny but fun!The ride starts with a quick burst on Highway One to the end of the bridge...

Then the little engine bounces its way across the rutted old surface of the 18-foot wide bridge. The center lane is reserved for the tour, the bumps protect the outer lanes for pedestrians and cyclists. October is a great month to be in the keys as so few people visit. We shared the tour with a terse New York couple and noticed a couple of pedestrians and a couple of cyclists taking their free exploration of Flagler's wondrous, 95 year old bridge.

Its common practice for anglers with boats to bob around between the old and new bridges, hoping to harvest a few snappers lurking round the pilings. The hand rails were the old tracks used by the State of Florida when they turned the railroad into an auto road in 1938. Below the bridge lie the few buildings of Pigeon Key, in their park like ambiance.

Thomas the Engine Driver gives us a few concluding remarks in the old mess house, which the cat tries to interrupt by seeking attention. Then we repair to the inevitable 21st century communicator for a presentation that held the attention of the New Yorkers despite the absence of air conditioning.I enjoyed the old paperwork in the museum, including the passes for locals that gave free access to the bridge ($1 toll for tourists) and evocative advertising:

and schedules:

With me secretly looking forward to the day when that high speed ferry hauls me and my motorbike to Havana for a long weekend in the twisties of Cuba!

The wife and I wandered round, admiring those cement supports, sat for a while at the strategically located picnic tables even though we omitted to bring a picnic, and eventually took a walk up the ramp to the bridge, and admired the structure from above:

And so we started to stroll back towards Marathon.

No despair though, Thomas stopped his engine and we got to ride back to civilization, thoroughly content with our little excursion. Its a truism of life in the Keys, so little land is there, that one needs to try to take full advantage of what we do have. This trip was long overdue.