Navy Rescues Key West -Again!

We read recently that Fat Albert will be taken down in March and the blimp will never fly again over Cudjoe Key, its surveillance duties no doubt superseded by aerial surveillance of a more modern kind, drones known and hated around the world and now it seems they are to fly over the Homeland in their thousands to keep us safe. That sort of Federal supervision I could do without but my hat's off to the Navy announcement made public in the newspaper yesterday. It seems that a few days before Pope Benedict steps down as head of the scandal wracked Universal Roman Church the waters you see in the picture below will be restricted to Navy boats only. Bummer, especially if you use the Navy Basin Launch Ramp to conduct amphibious tours of Key West Harbor.

The Navy has been intertwined in Key West right from the start, sometimes to the benefit of the military and sometimes to the benefit of the city and over the centuries it's been a back and forth of benefits. The Navy has always needed a secure base here, in the early days to run pirates out of the Bahamas and make the Straits of Florida safe for merchant shipping. And then when the US wrested control of the Colombian province of Panama away from Bogotà and created the Canal Zone the priority has been to secure the sea lanes across the Caribbean Sea. In the 70s reductions in force caused horrid poverty in Key West as downtown slumped and empty waterfronts faced Dival Street. Some few people took a chance, like the head of HTA ironically, and bought up the properties in an effort to keep Duval alive and eventually that chance paid handsome dividends. After the Navy got run out of Vieques in the so-called Spanish Virgin Islands off Puerto Rico, Key West's strategic importance grew exponentially as the country's best training base. If you think Key West is an open air bar and gay resort you are partly correct but Key West always has been and is still a major military installation. And every now and again the Navy speaks up and reminds civilians who forget that fact. The launch ramp in the picture below is not a civilian facility it turns out.

The thing is the amphibian tour vehicles operated by Historic Tours of America use the ramp and tour the basin for three quarters of an hour four times a day and they had an agreement, according to the newspaper that the Navy would give them a week's notice of any military required closures. Six months later the Navy has announced the deal is off, it's not working for them, how sad too bad. Now you might think all these Second Amendment freaks would whip out their armories and march down to the military base and tell these autocratic Federal goons to stuff it but in point of fact that's not how it works despite the implications to the contrary put about by the National Rifle Association. HTA told the newspaper it's throwing in the towel and Duck Amphibian Tours will cease by February 25th, the Navy deadline. It turns out the massive brutes operated by eleven employees (unemployment? Blame the Navy was the not so subtle implication suggested in the newspaper by the well padded corporate CEO who is no danger of the breadlines) will be sidelined. They are too massive to launch from Simonton Beach and plans call for a base to be built off Trumbo Road at some undetermined point in the future. Anyone who imagines residents of Old Town will miss these monstrosities has to be dreaming. Frankly I hope they vanish and never reappear, and I don't live in the city, as it's bad enough civilians think Yukons and Escalades make sense on Old Town streets.

The Navy's assertion of its rights over the Basin has other implications for the city, pointed out in the newspaper article. There are 34 acres of open space deeded to the city by the reduction of the Truman Annex Navy Base and all this unused land is now ready for redevelopment. In a town where assholes have at least two opinions each, what to do with the waterfront land has been the subject of some...debate. Plans were announced for a not so Key West development of landscaped facilities in the style of mainland Florida while a proposed upscale marina was put on the back burner to try to keep the debate below incendiary levels. Indeed the marina was nowhere to be seen on the latest plans published for public consumption but in the story about the Navy decision the fictitious marina was again mentioned as being at risk thanks to the Navy's closure of the basin. It seems as though we owe the Navy a second round of thanks for the closure.

The marina plan was pretty odd actually as the developers suggested they build it at city expense using bed tax dollars, an idea that was deemed illegal. Nothing deterred the idea was that some other public funding build the marina, the developers manage it and pay a modest rent to the city for its own facility. It's the sort of public private partnership that brings government into disrepute for being taken to the cleaners by the private side of the partnership. However all that is now off the cards, thank God. This waterfront all the way to the Westin Marina in the distance will be closed to even millionaires' gin palaces. Money does not talk in this case. Thank you Navy.

Not surprisingly the military is pretty cagey about why in the world why they need the basin nor what they do with it but apparently their Mission is best served in private. They did tell the paper they use the forty foot deep waters to train in underwater activities and for that they even employ the venerable floating Museum called Ingham, a retired Coast Guard Cutter that survived the development plans for the waterfront. Its former colleague, the last survivor of World War Two North Atlantic Convoys called Mohawk has been sunk off Sanibel Island as a diving attraction. Which I still believe is a terrible shame, the more so now the marina's future is clearly in question.

The Navy also uses the Outer Mole to tie up visiting ships when they take breaks from patrolling the Caribbean Sea in an endless drive to stop the drug flow to the land of high chemical demand. The city benefits enormously from the Navy presence, not just because sailors spend money in town but because reliable Navy spouses work in local businesses and also because the Navy also allows cruise ships to tie up on the Outer Mole and so far there is no word that agreement is In jeopardy.

If that agreement were ever to go up the spout the city would have some fiscal issues to deal with and opponents of cruise ship expansion might cheer but city budget cuts might cause some second thoughts. Maybe not. There's no word on the future of the National Marine Sanctuary patrol boats tied up at the Eco Discovery Center. My guess is they are Federal Park law enforcement and thus exempt from the prohibition.

The last time the Navy spoke up on Truman Waterfront to devastating effect was when the Truman Annex honchos got it into their heads they wanted to put a gate across the Southard Street entrance to the gated community. The city commission curled up in the fetal position and told the property owners association it was fine to shut a city street with a gate when the Navy spoke up and said so sad too bad, do that and we will set your backsides on fire ( they used diplomatic language ) and you never saw a bunch of bullies step down so fast. Plans for the gate, like plans for duck tours, are on hold. The side benefit to that little fiasco was an alternative route onto Truman Waterfront that the city built off Petronia Street, which is quite useful, as it's not at all publicized.

President Obama's plans to launch 30,000 drones over the US seems oddly unconstitutional to an old fart like me, still struggling to come to terms with the presence of a tracking GPS in my smart phone. On the other hand his plan to offer a bastardized incomplete and inefficient form of national health care coverage seems like a step in the right direction and I keep hoping Republican obstructionism at the state level will produce a Medicare for All plan that much faster as the Feds are forced to take over state health care exchanges. When I see how the military leads in Key West and dithering civilians dither, I feel oddly comforted.

 

Think about this: Gay marriage is a tough toad for civilian leaders to swallow as they study popularity polls, as usual, Thus civil rights changes come from the military first and we ditherers follow later. Just as black integration came through the military, thank you Harry Truman, US gay integration seems headed down the same path. So the military integrate gay rights as the US Supreme Court dithers on how to rule on the nonsensical Defense Of Marriage Act. If Key West can't decide how to cope with waterfront changes, don't worry, the Navy will show us the way. It's that sort of decisiveness that leads to dictatorship too, no matter how many guns you store in the closet, as civilians gradually get tired of civilian leaders who can't bring themselves to act for fear of popularity polls. When the Gods want to punish us, they send us what we ask for. So do I want Navy intervention or not? Umm...

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Hot Naked Sundays

I have long held the belief that gay men have more fun in Key West. I can't think where that opinion comes from. Unless it is the signage one comes across while making one's way along White Street near Fleming. For the rest of us straight dullards today is Valentine's Day the celebration brought to us by Hallmark who shames us into marking a holiday we'd otherwise not remember. A Hot Naked Sunday would be something of an altogether different stripe, but unfortunately as long as it involves only men they shall be deprived of the wit of my company. Their loss or mine I cannot say for sure.

I took off into the former Navy base at Peary Court and found an actual military fire plug. Unlike mere civilian fire hydrants military ones apparently come with a little flag made of metal. Perhaps it's some federal requirement which covers all bases Tropical or Arctic so they can be found under snow drifts.

I did consider briefly applying for work at the US Antarctic base where they have openings from time to time for fire dispatchers March | 2011 | Scott's Antarctic Experience and though things have changed a bit since he wrote that blog (Raytheon is out as the Federal contractor) I find myself pretty snug at KWPD... I wonder how I would cope with permanent daylight, all that snow and not a tree in sight. I'd love to see Robert Falcon Scott's expedition hut but that experience might not make up for the massive amounts of free ice cream I'd scarf while working at the base.

As it is I'm stuck in Key West and doing my best to cope with what seems like permanent sunshine these days and massive numbers of visitors despite the economy, the national debt and all the other perennial gloom. A visit to the Tropic this tIme of year means hunching cheek by jowl with lots of petulant snowbirds who seem to like to talk along with the plot and reassure each other they know what's going on as the plot unfolds onscreen.

We went to see the Oscar nominated live action short films encompassing efforts from Belgium, South Africa, French Canada, the US, and Afghanistan. All of them were tear jerkers but my money's on the colonial effort out of Afghanistan where the credits listed Afghan trainees alongside US technicians as though the movie we're some sort of USAID effort promoted by the State Department. It was a good movie was Bukhazi Boys.

In the photo above I watched the rider with the long leg being terribly cool seated almost side saddle on his scooter, weaving as he rode, leaning the scooter to one side like a circus bicycle. He probably hadn't heard the story about he guy who took a curb on his scooter leaving a gas station, tipped over and cracked his skull on the curb and was dead before the ambulance got there. And I dispatched them in a hurry. The great thing about riding a motorcycle, like sailing a boat, is that from looking cool to looking like an idiot or worse is matter of a fraction of a second. He wobbled off happily down White Street looking cool and with no idea of my gloomy thoughts. I've been riding since 1970 and remain glad to be alive.

All's well that ends well. Every day is Valentine's Day when you live with Cheyenne. She is easy to please and a few minutes scratching her throat sends her into paroxysms of ecstasy.

Hot Naked Sundays indeed.

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Sunup To Sundown

Sunup over Big Pine Key.

Cheyenne prefers walking in the cool of morning as do I, as there are fewer people around, a bonus in the winter when streets even in Big Pine are crowded with clumps of eager snowbirds stretching their northern wings under southern sun.

Crowded may be an exaggeration but compared to summer there are more people around this time of year. One is constantly under observation, I find.

I have heard tell that evil spirits may be trapped in bottles hung, usually upside down, but decoration is as decoration does and in this case the bottles looked good right side up. I'd not have the patience to tie the bottles up but I'm glad someone does.

The back streets of Big Pine are a refuge for eccentrics and loners and ordinary working families. You'll see gravel tracks winding through the pine woods to lonely homesteads. Some homes right on the street stick a notice up and call it good.

Key deer seem to be doing well this winter, sleek well fed and seen in large numbers. A few years ago they were suffering horribly and many were moved to leave food out for the suffering creatures with rib cages showing and unsteady gait from hunger. The refuge managers want the public to let the deer live and die by their own best ability. They ask us, the public, to simply try to avoid running the deer down. Please don't feed them, as the signs implore...

I'm actually surprised the deer are doing as well as they seem to be, for of rain there is still no sign and we,be not had rain for weeks, for years it seems like. Each dawn comes up sunny, a few scattered rain clouds on the horizon and as the day develops the sun beats down and we see eighty degrees at peak, dropping to seventy by night. No humidity a fresh light breeze and this is perfection for humans.

For Cheyenne between walks the shade of the veranda does nicely. I like to think she is guarding the bougainvillea from the predatory iguana but she is just resting. Every now and again she lumbers to her feet and goes and lays in the sun for a while before heat forces her to retreat.

And on my day off, like yesterday, an evening walk on the southern edge of Sugarloaf Key saw us watching a family chase fish at water's edge, dusk being one of two best times of day to fish I'm told.

I don't fish, my affliction living as I do in these most desirable angling isles, but every now and again I come across some wildlife I contrive to capture in my telephone.

And that brings us to the end of another day, sundown over Sugarloaf Key. A pope resigned, scandal surely to follow later, more people were shot to death in continuing debate over guns and liberty, and snow fell somewhere but not here. Never here were we drift through this tropical winter barely aware of the need to wear long sleeves.

And tomorrow will bring another day of tropical lassitude and meandering. - No. Wait a minute. Tomorrow I work. A different kettle of fish altogether.

 

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Stock Island Yachts

The car needed an oil change and I needed a new perspective on Stock Island so while Mike did the honors on the car I wandered off. Mike is from Santa Barbara in California and moved to Key West as we did from Santa Cruz, just up the coast. More important than that faint connection, his location across the highway from my wife's job makes it easy to drop off the car and he takes appointments and honors them and is easy to deal with. I approach new businesses that drop into these narrow islands with a jaundiced eye as so many fail or lose their way. When you find a good one you hold it close of course.

Hogfish has been around for a while and they sell a nice line in "old Key West" under the relatively new huge tiki roof. The food is okay off a large menu and it's reputation is such that visitors love to come here "off the beaten track" and eat next to palms with the sun reflecting off the water. Bobby Mongelli's new place Roostica further up the road is doing land sale business with locals and I like that Italian eatery a lot despite it's inland location in Stock Island's industrial zone.

You can see why Hogfish fills a need for people with a certain idea of what Key West should be like, authentic commercial fishing boats tied up alongside, the sun glimmering on they water like I said. See?

After I picked up the car I went over to the Stock Island Yacht Club where we have renewed our membership for a winter of swimming in their heated pool. A family membership is sixty bucks a month for access to the pool, sauna, gym and restaurant. They don't serve Red Stripe any more and their beer list is weak in this age of fashionable craft beers but I do like the atmosphere of genteel gentrification (ahem!) and the fact that the pool is divided strictly between adults and noisome offspring. I get to swim among adults even though they can be rather crass snowbirds down for the winter to show us how it's done.

They have a marina as well with fuel docks and a ships store and covered storage for boats. They also allow liveaboards in the marina and they also get access to the club. It's actually quite a sweet set up, and even though I have been ragged for being the only Democrat in a Republican strong hold I point out the Key West Yacht Club, terribly exclusive and reclusive on North Roosevelt Boulevard is where the city power brokers hang out. This place is actually a refuge for middle class families, snowbirds who want to see and be seen and don't have the credentials for the real thing, and a few eccentrics like me that like the facilities without the folderol of watching sports on TV and making small talk at the rather nice wood and brass bar. The food is actually quite good and happy hour is extremely reasonably priced.

The views are pretty nice too.

Worlds collide on Stock Island, and moves to increase the proportion of places like this will put strains on worker housing on Stock Island. The Yacht Club used to be called Peninsular Marine a place where boats were hauled out of te steer and repaired in an atmosphere as unlike this as its possible to imagine. I used to bring my oat here to to do woe and I was intimately familiar with the cold water shower and seatless toilets of Peninsular and standing in line petitioning for office time. Peninsular was home to homeless who made a life among the hulks permanently propped up in the dirt and gravel of the old boatyard. I remember groups of boat dwellers making fires in old oil drums during cold fronts standing around under the hulls of their boats and sharing beers and talking boat talk watching the flames flicker and hold the cold at bay.

Is it better now? I don't know but I can move between both worlds and I take them as they come.

 

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Monday Morning

The start of another week in Key West and a few other inconsequential places around the globe. 80 degrees by day and 70 degrees by night for the foreseeable future. Bummer. We have no exciting weather forecast though power did go out on Ramrod Key for a few hours Saturday afternoon. I found out when I woke up and the house was hot and still and some impatient berk across the canal was running a buzzy generator to keep the all important electrons flowing. I read a book in the sun. That was the weekend's excitement while snow smothered people elsewhere and power went down and left people freezing. I cannot imagine being poor, covered in snow and lacking any form of heat. Way too exciting. This is Key West Bight seen from Trumbo Road near the Coastguard Station.

We paused to listen as the National Anthem rang out at the base played electronically in modern chintzy fashion at eight in the morning, eight bells the start of the forenoon watch. After this reminder that Key West is a military town we ambled off to watch people live the tropical life. Breakfast al fresco at Harpoon Harry's. Try that in February where you live in the northern hemisphere. If you live in Hawaii take a two day road trip after breakfast and see where that gets you.

I was going to delete this missed shot except suddenly I noticed she is wearing clothing identical in color to her bicycle. I know nothing of fashion but it struck me as a bit odd. Should I wear bottle green when I ride my Bonneville?

Tourists come here to ride the Conch Train and learn about Key West's Hisotry in a ninety minute tour. The trains irritate residents by their slow progress and incessant repetitive narration, the same words at the same spot on the entire tour. However, if we are going to be honest the train is an excellent way to get a start on learning about the influences that helped create modern Key West. Early in the morning some dude in a pick up was fixing something so nothing should look out of place at the critical moment when people pay to ride.

I dislike motorcycle with external speakers that play music as they ride. The sound quality is awful, their choice of music generally is the same and to me it detracts from the experience of riding. The great thing about a motorcycle snthatktlegitimatley takes you out of the world, far from phones texts and noise. You and the machine in the world. Obviously modern technology enables geeks to plug in music and phones and all the rest of it but that's for them, not for me. I ride and I am out of touch with everything but the road. As you can see below I am in a minority, my usual status. You could buy two Bonnevilles for the price of this Harley with the antenna at the back just above the tin dangly testicles(!). I ride a Bonneville so I keep my balls to myself thank you.

Salt life is alive and well and so deserves another shot of the much sought after mural at the former Waterfront Market, shortly to become a brew pub, they say.

Winter is the time of year when socialists invade the Keys and supermarkets carry products from my childhood by Crosse and Blackwell Home | Crosse & Blackwell – Gourmet and Specialty Food Products which are enjoyed by residents of the 51st state, those people who pay high taxes and get socialized healthcare. They come down in droves this time of year in their expensive cars and motor homes, all they can afford because they live in the workers frozen gulag called Canada. So we impoverished tropical 99 percenters try to get them to release their overvalued dollars to us and Buddy Owen has come upon an interesting scam. It's well known Canadians' greatest exports are hockey and poutine and here is the American version of that; I guess that's what it is. It loos pretty good, certainly better than proper Canadian fries and brown sauce.

The startling new addition to Schooner Wharf is coming along nicely if this big white box looks nice to you. It will probably blend in nicely with the new hotel that's scheduled to go up across the street.

I was struck by the numbers of tourist boats parked in the bight, all red yellow blue and orange stripes.

There are booths all over the city ready to sell you a ticket if you want to go for a ride. Early morning is a good time to get in depth low down on the various rides:

Damn! My dog's having a second breakfast again. Check out the trash can not fifty feet away in the background. Alcohol does not make humans into better people.

Then I goofed off for a while. I took this picture of public housing in Bahama Village and I liked it. So I messed with it.

Cheyenne was busy so I made it into sepia.

Then I took the sepia and did something else with it.

Have a great week. Mine's off to a good start.

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