Boating Test Drive

Robert came by which is always a pleasure and brought his super duper fuel filter to check my boat's fuel tank after a winter of idleness and I was delighted to see clean fuel. I had run the boat a couple of times during the cold months and I was equally happy to get a nice crisp start from the battery and even though the idle was a little low the boat ran perfectly on our test run across Cudjoe Bay.

To me the essence of life in the Keys is represented by these kinds of summer afternoons. I don't care to fish but I do enjoy swimming and the clear waters make that a delight. A lot of times visitors enamored of Old Town Key West wonder at the desire to live in the suburbs, but having a canal behind your house and a boat sitting there ready to take off on the water...why, to me that's living.

We zipped across Cudjoe Bay, an unnaturally shallow body of water dotted with small clumps of Sargasso weed. My 25hp Yamaha has a tremendous affinity for the stuff, yellow cauliflower heads of beady weed dotted on the water's surface. I tried to dodge them which is much easier when the weed is massed into clusters the size of table cloths but the little lumps are just as effective at killing the propeller's ability to bite the water. Every now and again a sudden increase in rpm with a corresponding decrease in forward motion required I come off the plane and back up a second to clear the offending weeds.

We reached the creek in due course, the entrance clearly marked and rapidly opening onto a broad straight canal cutting across Sugarloaf Key.

The old Highway 939 bridge has long since disappeared but the stumps that used to hold the roadway up are still there and mark the turn into Tarpon Creek.

Robert led the way through the mangroves.

I spotted a piece of trash floating and stopped to pick it up which let the current take my boat into the mangrove roots which tangled the prop which held me up a bit as I struggled to get the prop out of the mud...I got the trash though!

This scenario at the end of the creek reminded me a bit of Bloodline the Netflix show set in Key Largo. They shot a scene in the mangroves at night in the rain and you've got to give them credit because they didn't fake any of it. I'm looking forward to season two.

I used to lead kayak tours through mangroves much like this in a former life. It looks creepier than it actually is. The mangroves are essential as fish nurseries, safe shady places for small fish to grow to maturity. The red mangroves grow in the salt water so there is no dry land among them which gives the place a rather eerie feel. However if you know the channel you are paddling down doesn't dead end there's not much to worry about.

And then out of the red mangrove claustrophobia and back into the open waters of Cudjoe Bay.

Sort of "open waters" because there is an awkward channel at low tide that caught Robert and sent him aground. Courteously he point the way to deeper water for me and you know it was shallow if our little 14 foot skiffs were in danger of running out of water.

Old mangrove branches were planted to mark the way but the last two were submerged and you could only see them when you were about ready to touch bottom.

I think the last time I was here it must have been high tide as I don't remember following any channel. I just got up on a plane and shot out like the proverbial off a stick.

And it started to look like summer as though on cue with thick black clouds building and promising rain, that never actually arrived. I like summer rain so you could call me disappointed.

However the clouds worked to Cheyenne's advantage and she was pretty perky when I offered a walk. She is not a fan of hot boat rides, she doesn't swim and prefers being home in the air conditioning.

A Labrador, grass, and shady skies. Perfect.

 

 

The podcasts are going gangbusters so if you want to hear some travel stories check out the website, iTunes or Stitcher, just hit the button in the webpage LINK.

 

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Summer Dawn

Cheyenne is getting bored with her morning walks. She waits for me impatiently at the top of the stairs and we take off in the car to find some place interesting to my increasingly picky dog. 

Early in our relationship Cheyenne used to enjoy walking the trails at the Key Deer Refuge in Big Pine Key but no longer. I like the trails which were somewhat wrecked a few years ago by a controlled blaze that turned into a hundred acre uncontrolled forest fire. The vegetation is growing back as it does and the refuge services are rebuilding the facilities. which are now more elaborate than ever. They even have a garden to attract bees, known nowadays as "pollinators" apparently.

 I love the early morning light in the pine woods of Big Pine Key. The island got  part of its name for the trees and the other part because it is the second largest  Key (after Key Largo). Granted the trees are  spindly compared to what grows in richer soil but a pine of any size is my favorite tree.

The trails are all spiffed up now with fresh gravel and rocky borders, in this case the trail designated accessible for wheel chair use -LINK .

 Cheyenne  was enjoying a rest after a quick sniff round, rubbing her itchy chin in the gravel.

The parking lot now has borders and flower beds, but the sky remains the same untamed shade of early morning blue.

I feel like time is passing and it makes me sad Cheyenne no longer has the energy or interest to wander the trail with me. 

Miami Maps

My wife was taking her arthritis medicine at the doctor's so I had a few hours to myself in the Big City. Hours spent to amuse my dog of course who was riding in the back like the princess she has learned to become. I saw Matheson Hammock Park on the map which said it was fifteen minutes away. It was the work if a few moments to plug the park into my iPhone's GPS and we were on our way through the tree shaded avenues of Coral Gables.

You'll hear people tell you they don't need GPS and they are right. But if you have not too much time and want to get where you are going without taking serendipitous side streets, then GPS in your start phone is fabulous. I love it. I have no problem traveling at random and coming across surprises but when you need to be somewhere, GPS does the job. It got me there with ease.

Well it got me to a gated community which seemed to give access to the park. The guard at the gate wrote down my tag with a pen using great care and I wanted to ask if they didn't have closed circuit television to protect the homeowners' valuables...but in the event I just asked if this was the way to the park. Continuing in the tradition of this very peculiar place she handed me a mimeographed street map, a series of unintelligible scribbles badly copied onto a sheet of bright yellow paper.

I tossed the paper onto the floor and set about finding the entrance to the park.

I drove up and down with princess snoring on her bed in the back, her fan moving the air conditioning around to keep her comfortable.

They live quite well In this canal filled community. God knows where you go to get milk around here.

The views across Biscayne Bay toward the Emerald City we're quite lovely and I spent a few minutes loitering illegally I might add. There was a big red sign that ordered no parking or loitering. I did both.

I also took some pictures.

I expect these people get bored by these views. Certainly I didn't see anyone out enjoying them like I was. Mind you I didn't see anyone calling in a loiterer either. I figured I'd better get while the going was good.

I passed a few peons doing their jobs, gardeners and landscapers principally. A young woman who looked like an Indio from south of the Rio Grande holding a cell phone to her ear in one hand while her other hand was taking care of a leash with the bosses hound on the end. I rather castrate myself than delegate dog walking duties. It's my favorite way to unwind, me and Cheyenne together and alone with our thoughts. What an interesting life story that young woman must have, living in a world where we take better care of our dogs than much of the world can give to their children.

The map below shows my meander in the canal area at the bottom of the map. A close look will reveal I was an idiot as I was circling the nature preserve not the park of the same name. Matheson Hammock Park was at the north end of the big green splodge. A GPS can only do so much and stupidity is often insuperable. I got there in the end though despite myself.

I'll bet it's a pretty place. I know the entrance is. I did not get past the barricade a half mile past the entrance. "No Dogs." Well screw you lot - I pulled a U-turn And went back to the entrance. You know what? I remembered this place. I was here once years ago, bloody hell probably 25 years ago now. I remember the situation well. I was meeting a friend in Coral Gables where I was living on my boat at anchor. I decided to go for a picnic and I was at one of the picnic tables having lunch and reading a book when I felt a sudden sting on my leg. To my horror I had a trail of fire ants climbing up from their nest into which I had inadvertently parked my foot. They bit me from toe to thigh and all the way up to, erm... That soft delicate fold of skin at the top if the leg. I had dozens of fierce red welts. It was agony. I had do many bites the fire ants gave me a fever. I went home to my boat writing in pain and rested for two days to get over it. Luckily I was unemployed at the time. My first and worst encounter with fire ants. Thankfully they are relatively rare in the rocky ground of the Florida Keys. They are there but not like in the sandy soil of mainland Florida, where they are everywhere. Far worse than alligators if you are looking for a scary Florida critter.

My own scary critter wanted a walk after all that pointless driving so I indulged her of course. She soon regretted it. It was 92 degrees but an air conditioning outlet did its work for her damping the ground with runoff water:

I wish I liked Miami more than I do but it's a city that is a challenge to love.

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A reminder: the podcasts have been going great guns at Travel and Safety  (LINK) . This week I interview Michael Robinson about traveling in style but I am quite surprised to realize there are almost a dozen half hour interviews with travelers of all sorts on the website. Check it out and give ita  review. You can listen by hitting the button at the bottom of any interview subject's bio: eith through iTunes or Stitcher. My engineer says rating and reviewing should be a snap. The interviews themselves are great fun to record with all sorts of details aboiut getting around locked away in each story. Enjoy!

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Spring, Keys Style

I read how folks Up North are stepping out of their winter caves and breathing the fresh clean air of a new season. They admire such long forgotten delicacies as sunshine, sprouting buds and ice- free lakes.

Down here the mangroves continue to look green, the sky looks blue and the clouds a puffy white chugging overhead pushed by the cool crisp breezes typical of Spring in the subtropics. Gambusia fish are no longer used in trenches to fight mosquitoes, and as you can see this one on Ramrod Key is still full of water And mud even though we are at the end of the dry season. I guess these things worked in their way.

Cheyenne wouldn't mind a bit of northern cold but afternoon highs around 90 degrees take the energy out of a girl. I'm good with a crisp dry winter and a hot steamy summer. Remember my disdain for seasons in the next ice storm

Hurricane season is next, starting June First technically. Being season-free doesn't mean everything is perfect, just not cold and not being cold is a Good Thing. And I stand ready to disagree with my dog on that point.

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Road Works

 It is the decade of road construction in the Keys it seems like. The money spigot is open and public works are getting funded. Which I suppose is about time especially as we are told most bridges across the US are in desperate need of long deferred maintenance.

I am not at all sure what each and every job is, some seem to be fiddling with bridge structures, while other projects are clearly part of the 200 hundred million dollar sewer installation, an attempt to give the reef some relief from human fecal matter which is polluting near shore waters and killing off the coral. Among other problems  for coral which include agricultural runoff from Big Sugar in the Everglades. Big Sugar has bought political protection to allow phosphates to run off but sewers are finally on the agenda after 20 years of prevaricating. 

The harsh reality is this work should have been done twenty or more years ago at a  time when the Federal government was more inclined to support local infrastructure projects and grants were more likely than bonds. As it is property owners in the Keys face substantial bills to pay off the bond, not to mention paying to hook up to the new system as soon as they get it done.

These days we view the turquoise waters, blue skies and white puffy clouds as normal scenery but the old timers keep telling us the waters are far more cloudy than they used to be and if you have enjoyed coral in remote parts of the world the coral bleaching in the Keys is apparent and appalling.

The good news is this work will get done, it will get paid for and as a bonus the heritage bike trail the length of the Keys is coming along as well. As they tear up the dirt to lay sewer pipes bike trails are being paved on top.

Its unfortunate  that the state of Florida can't incorporate the old Flagler bridges more effectively into the trail but there is no money to sustain them now, and there is certainly no money to build bike bridges across the parts that have been removed to allow boats to pass where the new bridges are taller. 

The heavy winter traffic is subsiding but the construction is continuing apace so the struggle to stay mobile continues. It's worth getting out though, for views like this:

 And Cheyenne needs her walks, mostly in the early hours when its cooler.

And slowly we see the results of the work, as the  "bridges" opened for service in 1982 get their finishing touches and are revealed clean and restored for us to use every day.

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