Yippers! I Now Be a Highly Acclaimed Poet thanks to Dr. Seuss!

Well feller sailers', I'll have ya'll knows 'dat I is now a bona fide poet and 'dat I done wrotes' me a fine poem 'dat even da' likes of Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson would have been a mighty proud to have claimed as 'der own.

Yippers... my lofty little poem 'dat I done already submitted to Cruisers Forum, now be universally acclaimed to be amongst 'da finest evers' written 'bout enduring brutal, nasty weather whiles' a clingin' onto a marina mooring ball.

And folks, I gotta' tells ya 'dat 'dis here poem gots' plenty of nautical insight and beer induced perspectives as to what it's really like to be a liveabord sailer' at anchor fer' days on end if I do say so's myself.

So wit' out any further-a-do, here be my highly acclaimed poem!


Can You Sail in a Gale?

Can you sail, in a gale?
And did you wail while under sail?

I did indeed sail in a gale.
And I later even peed off the rail!

Have you ever tied a knot?
Or was it a mistake and all for naught?

Of course I've tied a knot, yet done did it without any thought.
And it’s still there ‘cause I already done forgot!

Can you splice a line?
And did you drink up all that wine?

Sure I can splice a line and without the usual whine.
And gulp, that was some mighty fine red wine!

Can you set an anchor, without too much rancor?
Or was that you a-hollering late one night and spewing out some anger?

Yes I can set an anchor without hardly any rancor.
But it was my own noisy halyard that set off my feller' neighbor's banter!

And might you have a putty-cat to snuggle with at nights?
Or is it jest’ you in that v-berth without any delight?

Why yes I found a pussy-cat to snuggle with at nights.
And together we take turns, turning down the lights, for a little delight!

And did you read some books while a-living aboard your boat?
Or did you piddle your time away takin' one too many tokes?

Well heck no did I do any tokes, nor did I fish for the square grouper you silly bloke.
But I did happen to read Dr. Seuss’s classics I’ll have you note!


Acknowledgments:

I wish to thank and extol the creative genius of Dr. Seuss from way back in the day.

I'll also haves' ya'll know 'dat it be a dog-gone shame that many of us had to endure the mind-numbin' Dick and Jane books that were forced upon us while being held in first grade captivity.

And if per chance I was to come across Spot, 'den I'd 'fer sure give 'dat stupid mutt a swift kick in the hind quarters when nobody be a-looking. 'Dats whut' I gots to say dadgommit!

This is what the Square Grouper looks like in case ya' might have been a-wonderin'.




Yippers! I now be a highly acclaimed poet!

An Unsettling, Nagging Question in the Back of My Mind...

For some compelling reason I've had a nagging, unsettling question a-lingering in the back of my mind that has been a-bugging me for a while now.

For you see, while most recently approaching the Seven Mile Bridge one late afternoon, a fellow in a fishing skiff happened to slowly motor on over astern of Blondie-Dog as she labored against a strong tidal current flowing out from underneath that bridge.

And with my hands fully occupied at that very moment hooking up the fuel tank and cranking up the outboard, I simply wasn't too keen to engage that fellow in conversation while approaching that bridge at a slow crawl. Because the last thing that I needed was have that swift current take a hold of Blondie and push her sideways into one of the many concrete bridge supports while I mindlessly be chattering a way.

So my first inclination was to want to tell that fellow, "Dude... I ain't got time for your sorry ass so save whatever it is that you've got to say, 'cause for one, I'm busy and two, I don't give a rat's ass about any unsolicited commentary that you might feel obligated to send my way.

'Cause the simple truth of the matter is that very seldom if ever does one have a power-boater motor on over while one is under sail unless they want to gripe about something or fling some gratuitous crappy commentary in one's direction.

Yet to my disarming surprise, that fellow with longish, curly sun-bleached locks along with a set of deep dimples in his cheeks and a genuine smile on his face to go along with a deep southern drawl, hadn't come to gripe about anything or even so much as utter an unsolicited suggestion my way.

Instead he had simply called out with words to the effect of, "Don't mind me, I'm just admiring your boat" followed by, "Is that an Intrepid 28?"... and later, "I kinda thought so, they're good boats"...

And after briefly exchanging a pleasantry or two, that easy-going fellow just as quickly waved goodbye, throttled up and pulled away leaving me struggling with the nagging thought that we had some how and some where previously met only that I couldn't exactly pinpoint the when and where.

But it was while sailing underneath the Seven Mile Bridge that it dawned on me that the fellow had to be none other than Gary. The very same gregarious Gary that I'd previously met while aboard S/V BratCat in Key West way back in '88.

Yep... it had to be the same Gary whose trawler was aptly named "Magician" who would entertain one and all with his endless assortment of magic tricks. And it had to be the very same fellow that I'd previously described in a prior blog posting.

http://svblondiedog.blogspot.com/2012/02/taking-stroll-down-memory-lane.html

Hey Gary? That was really you wasn't it?

Back On The Grid Again and Workin' Fer a Livin'...

It do indeed feel a mighty good to be back on the grid agin' and no longer livin' aboard my dern boat. And although Blondie be a mighty fine little sailboat, she still be but a boat when it all be said 'n done.

And to that I'll add dat it also feel a mighty good to be gainfully employed fer a change and earning me sum real mula once agin'.

For ya see, it do a person's esteem a mighty good to have a reason to git up in da morning and goes off somewheres to earn an honest days wages 'cause livin' aboard a boat jest ain'ts a worthwhile endeavor unless you be periodically sailing offs somewheres or ya at least haves a day job to avoids becoming but jest another vagrant-on-a-boat.

And don't any of ya'll feller sailers' evens' thinks fer even a single Puerto Rican-New Yorker minute bouts' lendin' yor ear to sum' idle barstool sailor a claiming dat he be "livin' da dream" while he be but perpetually at anchor in sum' isolated harbor among a bunch of overgrown mangroves.

'Cause dat be the same feller hidin' out and wit a sh*t streak of problems goin's all de ways back to Cuba and doin' his darndest to connive yet another unsuspectin' feller sailor out of his hard earned mula only's to den' git his'self in troubles wit da marina boss all overs agin'.

And ya certainly den' don't wanna unexpectedly find yorself a-slippin' and a-slidin' in dat feller's sh*t streak. So do yorself a favor and avoid gettin' involved in dat feller's marina squabbles at all cost cause if ya don'ts you den' run da risk of being guilty by association.

So yep, I do indeed now be most happy to be but another working stiff gittin' up early ev'ry mornin' and headin' off fer work but nots' befores I takes me a fine hot shower and shaves all of me whiskers off.

And I'lls also haves ya'll knows dat I also nows never forgits' to brush all my teeth wit toothpaste every mornin' jest in case ya might a been a wonderin'.

And of course it also feel a mighty good to put on a starched long-sleeve shirt along wit a fine nice pair of slacks and dress shoes to match. And nope, I ain't a missing wearing any of my ol' boater clothes one bit either 'cause all my cargo shorts either had a broke zipper or a hole in 'em sum'wheres or evens both.

Besides dat, I also gots tired of wearing nuttin' but Teva sandals every day along wit' da same 'ol black smelly t-shirts wit bleach stains on dem.

And lastly I be happy to tells ya'll dat I now be wearing sum' brandy-new boxer-brief undy-pants dat I boughts me de' other day at a Wal-Mart store and dat I also now done thrown away all my old undy-pants dat had multiple holes in dem.

And of course ya' should all knows wid'out me a havin' to tell ya'll dat all dem holes in me under-pants resulted from me periodically releasing a gas pressure buildup after feedin' my face a fully loaded jalapeno bean burrito.

Yep, dem bean burritos dat I'd often buy at da local Circle K while in Key West were good!

Signs, Signs, Everywhere You Look in Key West there are Signs...

It occurred to me while cruising on my bike the other day that there must be close to a gazillion signs to be read all throughout Key West.

And while a good many of these signs can be found on store fronts and bars, others can be readily seen stuck on bumper stickers and tourists T-Shirts.

So yeah... there are "Signs, Signs, Everywhere are Signs, Breaking Up the Scenery, Breaking My Mind, Do This, Don't Do That"... to quote the lyrics of an old Seventies song.

In any event, here are but a few signs that readily come to mind.


Slow Down, This Ain't the Mainland
Yeah dude.. slow down... What's you're hurry?... you're already here. Goodness gracious dude... all dem scantily clad babes ain'ts going away just yet so ya need to tap on the brakes.


Balance the Budget... Tax Marijuana
Interesting concept, but don't count on me to help balance the budget by taxing weed. I'm too old for that sh*t and prefer that my brains not be all muddled up come daybreak.


Doing My Part to Piss Off the Religious Right
Now here is a sign that gives me a chuckle every time I come across it....

Der ain't many right-wing, religious zealots if any down here in the Keys which is certainly a good thing as far as I am concerned... You'll just have to drive on up through the hinterlands of central and northern Florida before ya come across any of these folks.

And don't worry about not readily recognizing any of these rabid nutcases for they be the ones spending a good part of their day on one knee Tebowing.


I Get It Everyday
Hmmm... I'm not sure what "It" might be for this is Key West and ya just might not want to be getting whatever that one particular fellow might be getting everyday.

Yep... there be a "live and let live" mindset down this way but no thanks... I don'ts wanna "take a walk on the wild side" if in fact this is what this sign might be implying.




Ban Country Music
Well heck, I kinda like Country Music... in small doses at least... and yeah man, I be the one singing an occasional karaoke country song at Two Friends come Friday night while smiling into the webcam.

So no dude, let's not ban country music just yet and don't anybody scoff at karaoke on a Friday night for dats' where all the mature, sensible, attractive ladies like to hang out for a little social diversion and a few laughs.




Mile Marker 0
Well this is pretty much self explanatory and ain't any statement insofar as I can tell... it just lets everybody know that you drove all the way down to the Keys until the road came to a dead end and that you couldn't drive any further. (Ooopps... wrong pic... for dat be a channel marker and not a mile marker.)


Support Your Right to Arm Bears
Kinda funny.... and a bumper sticker most unlikely to ever be seen on any vehicle driven by one of the many disgruntled, retired Navy fuddies-duddies here in Key West. Their vehicles can often be seen sporting an NRA decal or something derisive about President Obama being a Socialist or the like.


Nice People Swallow
Another sign that gives one pause and one that can be thought of as a tad bit unpalatable even if this is Key West.




Warning. Islands Under Surveillance At All Times
That's right dude... your ass is under constant surveillance whether ya know it or not and every movement you make is duly reported to the Department of Homeland Security.




See the Lower Keys on your Hands and Knees
This is indeed Key West and for whatever reason it ain't uncommon to see tourists bellying up to a bar, order a round of shots only to then follow that up with a big celebratory scene while simultaneously slamming the shots down their collective throats.

And as my lady-friend from up on Marco Island likes to say, "Get Drunker, Stupider, Faster".

Well heck, just the other day I saw a patron slamming down one shot after another while hurling gratuitous F-bombs... and when asked by a bartender to tone it down the patron proceeded to get all indignant and boastfully announce that he was a New Jersey police officer and no cops from Key West would ever think to mess with him before he strode on out of that bar while hurling a few more F-Bombs along the way.

Dude... I mean Mr. Officer... Key West cops love nothing better than to bust an out of state officer for public intoxication... especially one with attitude from "up north" wherever that might be. Consider yourself forewarned.


Came On Vacation, Left On Probation
Uh oh... that same officer was reportedly last scene wearing a t-shirt stating the above. Oh well...


No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem... You're in Key West.
Hmmm... I for one don't give a rat's ass whether or not this is Key West... Dude... put your shirt on.... that outlandish tattoo your sporting on your fat gut ain't disguising the fact that you be but a lardass with an attitude...

So dude... put your shirt on... 'cause ya ain't impressing anybody with that moronic tattoo displayed across your hairy back.

Speed Up, Not Everybody Here is a Tourist
Yeah man, quit poking along and speed up... That beach ain't going away any time soon and neither are those well oiled, tanned babes wearing little more than a skimpy thong. So dude... take your foot off the brake.


Relax Gringo, I'm Here Legally
This message is self-explanatory but if you should ever want to clear out your favorite sports bar of any and all San Antonio Spurs fans, then just emphatically shout out, "Ëmigracion! ... Viene la Migra!"

But be sure to stand back on out of the way when you do so for otherwise you run the risk of getting trampled upon when all those Spur fans clear on out through the back door. Hey, what can I say other than it works for me every time.



You Can't Drink All Day Unless You Start in the Morning
Yep, drinking first thing in the morning is what tourist be doing...


I Like Girls that Like Girls
Dude, though this sign might sound good in theory, ya better take a closer look at the chic sporting the razor sharp buzz cut, combat boots and leather accessories before hitting on her girlfriend... for she might wanna take you out back and kick the crap outta you and leave you lying senseless alongside the Harley that she and her girlfriend rode in on earlier in the week.


It's Only Kinky the First Time You Do It
Hmmm... once again, no thanks... and nope... I don't ever wanna go there...

Nevertheless I do knows that the difference between sexy and kinky is that sexy is when you use a feather and kinky is when you use the whole chicken.


I've Got the Pu$$y so I Make the Rules
Damned right girl... no arguments here... anything you say dear!


Tell Your Boobs to Quit Staring at My Eyeballs
Yeah girl... you're boobs are making me nervous... so tell dem "girls" of yours to quit staring at me... Enough already!

(Incidentally, the definition of Grammar is knowing your Sh*t and knowing you're Sh*t... not that you didn't already know this.)


Spill, Baby, Spill
Bumper sticker spotted on the back of a pickup truck with Texas plates. Well heck... why would you expect any different?


I Support PETA... People Eating Tasty Animals
Now here's another bumper sticker most likely to be found adorning a pickup truck with Texas plates... but I happen to kinda like it for dat be why peoples be up at da top of da food chain.




Supporting Single Moms One Dollar at a Time
Oh gawd... sorry dear but dat just ain't my kind of scene. I'll just have to leave it up to the tourists to do all the ogling.

Few things are worse than hearing some burly disc jockey screaming into a microphone while extolling a crowd of drunken dudes to shout "Hell Yeah!".

Nope... I'd much rather go sing karaoke and hopefully meet up with someone that might actually take a personal interest in me and not in what I might have nestled in my wallet.




I'm On a Boat
Yeah, yeah, yeah and I've heard this before and nobody gives a rat's ass... What does that make you... special?



Anything Southernmost...

Yep, this being Key West, everything is Southernmost whether it be a law office, an ice cream parlor or a massage parlor for that matter.




So there you have it folks... commonly seen signs and bumper stickers throughout Key West along with my unsolicited commentary! ... Me hopes dat ya'll have been enlightened!




Yep... I be but a Bar Stool Sailor.

"And the Sign Says Long-Haired Creepy People Need Not Apply"... "Can't You Read the Sign"!

An Early Morning Oh Crap Moment...

PROCEED WITH A LITTLE BIT OF CAUTION...MILD ADULT CONTENT AHEAD...

Not that I've ever been told otherwise, but I do know that I'd be somewhat remiss if I were to only ever recount my "adventurous" sailing exploits while conveniently omitting any mention of the occasional, inadvertent sailing screw-up.

SOooo... against my better judgement, I will indeed 'fess up to an inglorious, "oh crap, sailing moment" which just so happened to occur the morning following my uneventful seven hour sail on down from Bahia Honda and on into Key West.

And yep... Ya'll heards' me right 'cause ya'll did indeed hear me use the phrase "screw-up", a phrase commonly used to describe a careless, poorly thought out action or inaction for that matter resulting in a bit of misfortune.

So... after sailing on in to Key West a few months ago, I dropped an anchor just offshore of Flemming Key among a number of other sailing vessels at anchor. And as previously narrated in a prior blog entry, I was indeed quite exhausted yet most relieved to have sailed in without further incident.

Well I must have been blissfully sound asleep soon after sunset and after chowing down a simple yet satisfying meal of steamed rice served along with a tin of salmon cooked with sauteed onions, and capers.

In fact, I gotta believe that I was so hungry that I inadvertently scarfed that meal down faster than how a hungry stray-dog might gulp down an errant hot-dog... I was that hungry.

And before ya'll turn your collective noses up at my concoction, kindly remember that I be on a boat and that one must make sacrifices and make do with whatever one might have stowed within one's tote-box that serves as the boat's pantry.

It also goes without saying that the gentle rocking motion of the boat at anchor after indulging in a full-blown meal had the effect of making it feel as if I were snoozing in a shaded hammock. So yeah, I slept blissfully throughout the night and well on till sometime before daybreak.

So it was around four-thirty in the morning or so that I eventually awoke feeling completely rested and wide awake. Sunrise wouldn't be happening for at least another hour or so and even then some.

And since it was still dark outside and because I wasn't in any particular hurry to pull up anchor and set sail just yet, I did the only sensible thing at that hour of the morning and that was to brew myself a pot of coffee.

I'd have all day to pull up anchor and scoot on up around the north end of Flemming Key and back on down to the Garrison Bight Mooring Field. So yeah, indulging in a pot of Folgers finest 100% Colombian Coffee was indeed in order at that very moment as I settled back in for a bit of quiet time.

I suppose that if I had any misgivings at that particular moment, it was that there wasn't an attractive Colombiana to be found anywhere aboard my boat so that I might have someone to share my coffee with.

So yeah, sharing my coffee with an attractive Colombiana early that morning would have suited me just fine if you know what I mean.

But alas, it was just me aboard my boat with but a robust pot of Colombian Folgers Coffee at that hour of the morning and no one there to share it with.

So that is how I spent the next hour or so while waiting for daylight... sipping on a comforting pot of coffee while perusing over a few Grandmaster chess games that I'd previously downloaded onto my laptop.

Hey... what can I say other than that we all have our "secret pleasures" and that I for one happen to be readily captivated by the cold logic of chess. Much like how an art critic might perhaps find them self captivated by the visual beauty of some random oil painting.

Well heck, while I'm thinking about it, I suppose that chess could perhaps be defined as an "artistic expression of logic". But that my dear friend will have to be a topic for another day.

In hindsight it is the "quiet moments" such as this that one relishes the most while cruising aboard a boat and this indeed was such a moment for me. Nevertheless it was while relishing my quiet moment when I unexpectedly heard and felt a gentle thump followed immediately by another thump.

But the reality of it all is that there is no such thing as a "gentle thump" insofar as boats are concerned for a gentle thump can very soon escalate into a loud THUMP and then possibly further escalate into what sounds like a CRUNCH.

And if one were to have the misfortune of striking a reef, then one might even hear a sickening CRACK followed by the gentle sounds of gulp, gulp, gulp as the boat takes on water.

So no... there is no such thing as a gentle thump while one is aboard a boat.
Needless to say, that unexpected "thump" had me immediately scampering up on deck to see who in the hell might have incautiously set their anchors only to then have their dang boat drag on into mine at that un-gawdly hour of the early morning.

Yet it was while assessing the situation and valiantly straining to fend my boat from bumping yet again into another boat that was quietly at anchor, that I reluctantly concluded that it was none other than my own anchor who had been grossly negligent and at fault.

Not only was my anchor remiss in not doing what I had specifically instructed it to do but it also had the temerity to drag during the night only to then snag onto another boat's anchor rode.

Well heck, it wasn't my fault that my anchor didn't stay put as I had emphatically instructed it to do... and it also wasn't but a moment or two later when the captain of that other boat also suddenly also sprung up on deck to assess the situation as well.

And I must be getting old or something 'cause that captain seemed to be but a kid and couldn't have been much more than half my age. He did however appear to be rather unfazed and remarkably composed now that I come to think about it.

Nevertheless it was while assessing how to untangle the anchors that his female companion also appeared up on deck while still showing obvious signs of being half asleep.

But what made her sudden appearance up on deck rather memorable was the fact that she happened to be strikingly attractive and was wearing but an ordinary pair of white cotton panties along with a skimpy top... yet protruding just beneath that skimpy top were her "girls"... eagerly pressing out from within and inadvertently disconcerting me to no end.

So yeah... I was indeed unnerved at the sight of that attractive young lady idly standing up on deck in the soft moonlight while she rubbed the sleeppies out of her eyes with her balled up hands.

And after much effort I eventually did divert my attention back to the task at hand and together, the other captain and I successfully un-twined the anchor rodes without much ado.

Blondie-Dog was now adrift as I apologized for the mishap while scoping out the anchorage for an open spot to re-set the anchor.

Unfortunately my early morning sailing woes didn't end quite there. In my haste to unfurl the jib and get underway, I did a half-assed job of cleating off my anchor rode as my anchor rested just above the water line.

It wasn't like I'd be sailing far to re-set the hook. Besides I simply didn't want my anchor sliding about the deck as I easily sailed what was to have been a short distance.

Yet unbeknown est to me the anchor rode had been slipping all along and by now the anchor had snagged itself yet again onto another boat's anchor line and Blondie now definitely wasn't making any headway what-so-ever against the swift Key West Channel current.

And that's when I decided that I'd had enough of this "noise" and proceeded to hook up the gas tank to the outboard motor. I was now rather annoyed about my circumstances and most intent on demonstrating to that swift current that I was boss of it and that would be the end of that.

So after cranking up the outboard motor, I turned the throttle wide open in an effort to prove once and for all that Blondie would be plowing straight on through that swift current whether that channel liked it or not.

Well to my incredulous dismay, my boat still couldn't make any forward progress with or without the motor running. I hence proceeded to shut that motor down in an attempt to figure out whether I'd inadvertently run aground or something.

Yet running aground didn't make any sense either for there was plenty of depth in that anchorage and by now Blondie was slowly yet surely drifting yet again on into another boat that was quietly at anchor.

Only this time I'm intently being watched by a small dog up on deck. That small mutt couldn't have been much larger than your typical marina dock rat. Before long that mutt starts to barking its little yappy head off announcing to one and all in that quiet anchorage that I've somehow managed to screw-up yet again.

A moment or two later, the boat's captain emerges from down below to see what all the fuss was about. It's the same fellow, with the same unkempt stringy long hair I'd seen the previous day when I first sailed in.

It was he who quickly noted that my anchor line had slipped off the bow cleat and that my anchor had snagged onto one of his anchor lines.

And after retrieving my anchor, I apologized yet once again for the inconvenience that I had caused at that early hour of the morning.

His response was direct and to the point... "There's no such thing as one anchor in this channel" and with that he went on back down below along with his crappy little mutt.

I'm still somewhat amazed to this day that I didn't have a bunch of F-bombs hurled in my direction. I knew better than to set but one anchor out but heck, I'd only be anchoring out for one night before picking up a mooring ball in the morning.

So after purposely stowing my anchor in its proper place I unfurled the jib yet once again. And although it was still dark outside, daybreak would be occurring at any moment now so I elected to simply get on with it and motor-sail on over to the Garrison Bight Mooring Field.

Besides that, I certainly didn't want to be the object of ridicule and derision in that anchorage and preferred instead haul my ass on out of there under the cover of darkness.

But it was at that very moment when I suddenly heard a brief yet ear-piercing air-horn blast emanating from the U.S. Coast Guard station. That air-horn blast was promptly followed up by a spotlight lighting up my jib.

It goes without saying that I immediately took a hint and scrambled down inside the cabin to flip on the switch to my running lights and with that, the spot light was turned off.

In hindsight my anchor got what it deserved for causing me so much grief... it got bent beyond repair when I had opened up the throttle to my outboard motor thus putting one heck of a strain on it.

Within the hour I had sailed around Flemming Key and had picked up a mooring ball much to my relief and without further incident.

I later disposed of that bent anchor under the cover of darkness less anybody see me carting that thing around and wondering how it had gotten bent out of shape in the first place.

I certainly didn't want to have anybody yucking it up at my expense and I'm pretty sure that you would have done the same thing had you been in my place.



Google Map of Key West courtesy of Capngeo aboard "Happy Days".



I found myself a decent anchor lying around unclaimed in the Historic part of Key West. Now all I need is someone with a pick-up truck to help me cart it away.



Oil painting entitled "El Traje de Boda" by my mother at an art exhibition... awarded third place in the classical art category. Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I well remember when this painting was hardly more than a blank canvas resting on a large easel with but a charcoal outline of the dress lightly drawn on it... Off to the side could be found what seemed to me an old faded dress that could very well have been pulled out from the very bottom of a cedar chest and had now prominently re-emerged on a dress stand...

My initial unenthusiastic and unsolicited commentary of the subject at hand was readily dismissed with a "áh... tu eres un huevo sin sal" as my mom intently continued mixing her paint colors...

I was later to learn that what made this painting so challenging were the subtle changes in light contrasts found in the folds of the dress...

A reknowned French artist, invited to be a part of the judging panel, was later quoted to have stated, "Esta artista pinta con su alma"...

Be Advised... Big Brother is Watching...

While sipping on a cold one inside the confines of a cozy neighborhood bar the other day, I came across a foreboding sign mounted up alongside of a wall.

Stated on that large green sign was, "Warning! Islands Under Surveillance at all Times"!

Well heck... somebody got that right... and I happen to know that first hand. For while sailing from Bahia Honda and on down to Key West a few weeks ago, I could readily see Fat Albert up in the sky peering directly down upon me.

And for some unexplained reason, I could feel that blimps' cameras scrutinizing every tack I made while undersail. It wouldn't have surprised me in the least if none other than Dick Cheney had been viewing the camera imagery while seated at a computer monitor.

Hey Cheney... nobody likes you... kindly do the world a favor and go croak. And I am an American.

Garrison Bight Mooring Field and Getting Around Key West...

S/V Blondie-Dog presently finds herself tied off to a mooring ball in the Garrison Bight City Marina mooring field which happens to be situated out on the east side of Flemming Key and away from all the boating commotion that is to be found along the Key West Channel.

Unfortunately the mooring field is not located in the most convenient of locations for it's a long dinghy ride to and from the docks.

Nevertheless the mooring field facilities are more than adequate and include floating docks, showers, restrooms, a parking lot, secured access, water, shore power and even a laundromat... all at a somewhat reasonable monthly fee.

Getting around town is another matter... The Garrison Bight mooring facilities are located on the north edge of Key West and are somewhat beyond walking distance from all the night spots along Duval and the Key West Historic Seaport.

And I emphasize from as apart from to because I never seem to have a problem walking on over to the many night-spots, it's the walking back part that can be somewhat problematic if you get my drift.

But that my friend is a topic for another day... and if one might perhaps own a car then it's best that you park it and leave it parked and use it for little more than a locker when you go ashore.

Key West is but a mere five square miles from what I can remember and driving about town in one's car should be out of the question. Parking is decidedly limited and don't even think about parking anywhere without first paying a hefty parking fee.

That leaves but one viable option for getting about town without having to either drive a car or walk and that is to ride a bike.

Hence, when in Rome, do as the Romans. Buy a bike. Preferably a beat up, unattractive yet serviceable bike. Be sure to purchase a cable-lock as well. Unsecured bikes tend to roll away on their own free volition when no one is looking.

So yeah, buy a bike. Virtually everybody that ain't a tourist here in town either owns a scooter or a bike for getting about town.

Lastly be sure to purchase both the white and red legally required bike lights for riding at night because if you don't you can be heavily fined and subjected to arrest.

You might even find your sorry ass getting hauled-off to Fort Jefferson, some forty nautical miles due west and then find yourself incarcerated for months-on-end for having ridden a bike without proper lights at night.

So consider yourselves duly forewarned.







Better days with me seated on my motor scooter.
Las Croabas, Puerto Rico

Key West at Last...

Well after sailing on through the Key West Channel and later dropping an anchor off of Fleming Key, I got my boat squared away and even more importantly, I got myself squared away as well.

All in all my seven hour sail did take a lot out of me but it nevertheless couldn't have been any less eventful. In fact the only eventful thing to happen while under sail was when but a single dolphin showed up and swam across my bow a couple of times before veering off.

My sail was so uneventful that it wasn't until after I had sailed on past Stock Island that I finally saw another sailboat out on the open water. It's sails were predictably down and it appeared to be motoring on out to Sand Key, a delightful snorkeling destination some five miles off of Key West as far as I can remember.

For all I know, a bar-stool sailor must have undoubtedly been at the helm of that boat as it motored on off in the distance. And it wouldn't have surprised me in the least if its captain had been endlessly carrying on with his bullsh*t tales of Cuba either.

In any event, I was certainly pleased to have completed my sail into Key West and of having anchored without incident. For some reason that channel seemed all too busy from how I remembered it to be back in '88 and '89.

Numerous tour boats could now be seen zipping by in the channel while blaring regaae and party music.

In one instance I happened to climb out from inside the cabin upon hearing someone blowing into a horn of some sort and making a loud shrill sound as a large sailing catamaran cruised on by.

And upon closer inspection I determined that the high-pitched sound wasn't a distress signal of any sort. It was simply two completely nude guys up on deck an adjacent boat, gyrating to the catamaran's blaring party music while calling out to the female revelers... Upon which one the revelers could then be heard calling back out to the guys, "Is that all you got"?

And it should go without saying that I quickly ducked back down inside the cabin after thinking to myself, "This ain't got a damned thing to do with me".

I'd at least like to think that those two guys were calling out to the female revelers aboard that party boat... but this is Key West and I guess that one shouldn't be making such assumptions.

Oh gawd... welcome to Key West.

Sailing Off To Key West in Earnest...

Well I don't know about the next guy, but I for one can sense day-break as she approaches and sensing daybreak on the morning of my scheduled departure on out of Bahia Honda and on down to Key West was no exception.

And I'll be the first to admit that I was soooo tempted to just roll on over and sleep another hour or two but subconsciously kept thinking of the long day of sailing ahead of me and knew that the sooner I got underway, then the better.

So after setting a pot of water to boiling for my coffee, I purposely began stowing away any loose stuff about in the cabin. You know... stuff.... as in stuff like books, shoes, dishware and what-not... the kind of stuff that is be sure to fall off onto the cabin floor if not properly stowed. Stuff that is only too certain to then start banging up against everything else and making a lot of racket as the boat gets underway.

And with a large mug of coffee already brewed, I quietly raised the main, pulled up the anchor, let the jib out and just like that I was under sail and heading on out through the cut out section of what had once been part of the Flaggler Railroad Bridge.

I did briefly give some thought to hooking up the gas can to the outboard motor mounted on the transom as a safety precaution but quickly blew that off... as in I'm sailing on out of here the same way I sailed in... with no motor. Besides, both the wind and the swift channel current were both in my favor so there wasn't anything to really worry about.

And just like that Blondie was swiftly yet silently sailing on out of Bahia Honda. I doubt whether any of those campers at that State Park ever even knew when I had set sail that morning.

For all I know those campers were most likely nursing a hangover because after all there simply ain't much to do when camping other than shoot the breeze with fellow campers while drinking copious amounts of alcoholic beverages.

And if you don't believe me, just ask that German tourist that I previously mentioned in a prior blog entry... you know the one... the one with the big gut spilling on out over the top of his Speedos.

Well I do happen to half-ass things on occasion as my lady-friend up on Marco Island can attest to, and making sure that my handheld GPS had fresh batteries in it was one such task that I didn't quite get around to doing.

Perhaps I kinda-shoulda have changed the batteries in my handheld GPS before setting sail but I simply couldn't be bothered for whatever reason. Besides, it wasn't like I'd be out of sight of the Keys at any time. I'd simply set a course of 270 degrees and that would be that.

In any event, I do happen to have a pair of binoculars on board my boat that can be used for spotting distant radio towers and channel markers... and whether or not I mostly happen to use my binoculars for checking out all the hot babes frolicking about on other peoples boats is spurious speculation as far as I am concerned.

Well sailing is sailing and sail is what Blondie-Dog did indeed do a lot of. Winds couldn't have been any more perfect and Blondie was soon zipping by Big Pine Key, Sugarland Key, Saddlebunch Keys, Boca Chica Key, Stock Island and finally Key West.

It had indeed taken me some seven hours to sail into the Key West Harbor Channel and another hour or so to tack my way on up to Fleming Key before dropping an anchor. I'd sailed the whole day without motoring and I certainly wasn't going to bother hooking up the outboard motor after sailing all day.

I was admittedly quite exhausted by the time I finally settled in down below after anchoring. My face felt all fried-up from the reflexion of the sunlight upon the deck. It took a good while to finally cool off. One thing for certain was that I had no inclination of wanting to venture ashore that evening. I was simply too tired.

That seven hour sail from Bahia Honda was exhausting and I was certainly glad that I hadn't attempted to sail all the way from Marathon in one day. Ten hours of single-handling a sailboat on a hot sunny day would have simply been a little too much for any one person.



Bahia Honda, Florida Keys

Piddling about Bahia Honda Before Setting Sail for Key West in the Morning...

My evening at the Bahia Honda State Park concluded with me gingerly walking about barefoot for reasons previously explained and with me taking in the sights. That quaint little Park was a delight as far as parks go and even had me somehow wishing that I'd had someone along to share in the experience.

The Park is somewhat renowned as a safe haven for butterflies of all things and I can assure you that there were quite a few butterflies fluttering about. Also scattered about that park were a number of placards all with a brief historical narrative of the place. I took my time reading these for lack of anything else to do at that moment but was nevertheless pleased that I had for some odd reason.

So after later snapping a few pictures with my cell phone camera, I headed on back to my dinghy and rowed on back to my boat. And with the sun just starting to set, I saw little reason not to pull out my conch shell from down below, climb back up on deck and then blow the hell out of it.

...especially since I hadn't blown that thing in a while and because I'm on a boat and that's what's expected of boaters and because I didn't have anything better to do at that particular moment.

So yeah man.. that was me blowing the hell out out of my conch shell for three long, loud blasts which undoubtedly could be heard all the way down to the Saddlebunch Keys and on up to Key Largo.

I'm sure that I put on quite a show for all those German tourists settling in for the evening out in the Park camp grounds. I'm also pretty sure that I gave them something to talk about with their friends and family once they get on back home.

I can hear it now... "Oh wow... our vacation was a delight... we even saw this guy sail his boat right underneath the old Flaggler Railroad Bridge and later blow a conch shell as the sun was setting... it was a most amazing spectacle"!

Then yet again, we're talking about easily-annoyed German tourists here and for all I know they may have even been contemplating reporting my ass to the Park Rangers for making a little noise. For sure it would have likely been that previously mentioned German tourist... the one with his big gut spilling out on over the top of his Speedos.



Oh gasp! What the heck was I thinking?
Me aboard my AMF 21, wearing Speedos which I have long since censored.
Isla Palominos, Puerto Rico

Living Aboard and Bored Out of My Mind...

Me thinks that the "Cruising Lifestyle" may perhaps be a tad overrated... Days of doing little more than piddling around the boat will turn into weeks and before you know it weeks of not having done much more than idling about will then turn into months and soon enough you've burned a year doing little more than contemplating an exit strategy off the boat.

Day-Sailing on the other hand is fun! What's not to like about taking the boat out for a day sail while sipping on cold beer and returning to the docks later in the day to tie the boat off, shower down, and head on home for some A/C, cooked food and a few ballgames on the TV.

And it's certainly not unusual for single live-aboard cruisers to start losing their mind after awhile. The mind starts to play tricks on you and you find yourself sticking out your tongue for no apparent reason. I'm hoping that this doesn't ever happen to me.













Me sailing my AMF 21 back in the day... East coast of Puerto Rico.