Memsahib's Voyage

My friend Pat Harris, upon learning that I would be a swinging bachelor in Key West for a week, strongly suggested that I go down to Duval Street and check out the action during the first big week of Spring Break, starting with  President’s Day.

So I dutifully got on my bike and headed toward chaos.  But I stopped first to fortify myself with a Cuban Sandwich and cafe con leche at 5 Brothers Grocery, home of the best Cuban in Key West.  It was fantastic.  But how can a Cuban sandwich in Key West be all that much different from a Cuban at a New York deli, since by definition a Cuban has the same ingredients — roast port, ham, yellow mustard and dill pickles, all pressed to mold everything together on a grill?  I think the secret is the bread.  Cuban bread is slightly sweet and very soft — so you get the classic Chinese taste combination — salt, sweet, hot, sour.  And since on Memsahib we consider pickles a vegetable, it is a well-balanced meal.

But I digress.  Duval was crowded as usual and I fired up the camera in anticipation of the crazy pictures I would send back to Pat — probably too racy for this family-friendly blog.  Only to find that the average age of the wild female Spring Breakers was something between 71 and 76, the range depending on whether you count those with walkers as active players or on the DL.  There was not a co-ed in sight, and I walked for three blocks.  Obviously, school might be out, but the cruise ships were IN.

Then I had a frightening thought.  Some of my co-generationists were hitting the sauce pretty hard.  What if some crazy old coot yelled, “Show Me Your ***s!” And what if some crazy old cootess DID!

I ducked into Sloppy Joes Bar to steady up.  Sloppy Joes was Hemingway’s favorite bar, and it is dedicated to his fishing and drinking exploits.  I really wanted — and needed — a Papa Doble, Hemingway’s favorite drink.  I was disappointed to find out that even at Sloppy Joes, a great drink that is basically a lot of rum amd a little lime and grapefruit juice, has been tarted up with soda,  sugar and maraschino cherries, and for all I know, an umbrella.  So in honor of another great writer,  ranconteur, sportsman, and man-among-men, I had a double Mount Gay and tonic, the Ray Gaulke Doble.

5 Brothers Grocery — Home of the best Cuban sandwich between Miami and Havana

The wild Spring Break scene on Duval Street

Spring Breakers DRINKING ALCOHOL at 3 in the afternoon!

Sloppy Joes — touristy, but how is anyone who has read every word Ernest Hemingway ever wrote going to stay away.

Inside Sloppy Joes — spring breakers with an obvious taste for literature

Molly came down to visit (two days late because of the Connecticut Blizzard) and we were having a great time touristing when a horrible attack of sciatica literally turned John from walking into crawling right on Duval Street.  But a trip to the emergency room for a cocktail of muscle relaxants and pain killlers and a visit to a clinical massage guy fixed him up.  He was able to go home with Molly for a week in Connecticut to unpack and see friends, so Sparta and I are on our own.

I am still a big fan of Key West on my fourth visit:

— It’s a beautiful tropical island with Publix, West Marine and Home Depot, which to the cruising sailor means a lot.

— I’ve never had a bad meal here.  The fresh seafood and Cuban influence lead even the tourist traps to a new standard.

— Duval Street.  It’s a strange mix of Bourbon Street honky tonk and perfectly preserved Key West/Bahamanian architecture.  14 blocks of tee shirt stores, Coach-type stores, pizza joints and gourmet, country western and Cole Porter.

Before John’s attack we did the Hemingway House tour (a must), Southernmost Point and Duval Street.  Our home base changed from the boat to the DoubleTree Resort, a great find — very nice hotel away from the noise of downtown and quite reasonably priced.

Best of all, it’s never cold here.  The lowest temperature recorded is 41.  A huge cold front ripped through Friday and is freezing the oranges up on the mainland, but we’re still in the low 60s.

Molly the Cuban Coffee Queen. I actually like it better than Greek — the same rocket boost, but you don’t end up with all that sludge in the bottom of your cup.

John and I always point out that we’ve been South of the Southernmost Point, since we sailed right by it coming into Key West Harbor.

Hemingway’s beautifully preserved home. He lived there from 1931 to 1940.

Hemingway’s writing room, where he wrote A Farewell to Arms, Snows of Kilamanjaro and all the Nick Adams stories.

John with one of the 45 six-toed cats that are descendants of Hemingway’s “Snowball.”

Yup. Count ’em.

Sparta’s Hemingway cousin. No sitting rule only applies to humans.

Duval Street. If you do the Duval Crawl and have a beer at each bar on the strip, you will have had 66 beers. Yes, it’s been done many times.

Key West, our home for the next month, marks an important turning point for Memsahib’s Voyage.  We just finished mile 4,000, so we’re well over halfway home.  We’ve been heading south and west for the past six months, and now our courses will be east and north.  Once we’re out of Keys, it will be hard to find wilderness.  We’ll pretty much be running up heavily-populated East Coast, with a few isolated spots still remaining — the Georgia islands, Outer Banks and southern Chesapeake.

Phones and Internet work, and it’s easy to find supplies, but I haven’t heard a deep South accent in a long time and the pace of life around us is speeding up, although things are still pretty quiet on Memsahib.

We found a very nice,  reasonably priced marina that’s part of a condo development on Stock Island, one island over from Key West.  Perhaps not the world’s most glamourous location next to the County Jail, but away from the craziness of Key West.  Molly is finally out of the Great Connecticut Blizzard after getting stuck for two days, and we plan to head into town for some significant tourism while she’s here.

On our trip down from the Everglades we stopped in Marathon, cruising central for the Keys.  The sailing world has activity hubs all over the world (Annapolis, Newport, Isle of Wight) and Marathon is certainly one of them.  It’s the southernmost ultra-protected harbor in the U.S. and hundreds of boats come down in the fall, pick up a city mooring and don’t leave until spring.  We stopped to get fuel and watch the Superbowl, since Eric Brazil has made John a stone 49ers fan.  We were fortunate that the very nice people at Burdine’s Waterfront let us tie up at their fuel dock since they figured (correctly) that everyone would be watching the game, not buying gas.  Other than that, there was not a slip or mooring available in all of Marathon, first time we’ve ever had trouble getting a berth.

Other than working on the boat and poking around on our bikes and John’s scooter, our only big activity has been fishing.  We finally broke the Kessinger Fishing Curse with a charter captain who knew where the fish were and had this giant, red secret-weapon reel that he claimed always led to fish if it was on the boat, whether actually used or not.

Amazing Boot Key Harbor, Marathon, Florida Keys.

John coming in from a downloading session ashore. John seeks hi-speed wireless the way other kids try to find drugs, so I’m lucky, I guess.

Cruise ship row as we entered Key West Harbor. Can you hear me thinking, “Please, please don’t move til I get past.”

John latched onto a big amerberjack after we got done catching snapper.

John’s big fish.

My little fish. We caught about 24 of these yellowtail snapper. Delicious eating one night with a mango-tequila glaze and the next teriyaki-style over rice.

Sunset Marina, Stock Island, Key West.

Memsahib in her berth for a well-deserved one-month rest in Key West.

We wanted to spend some time in the Everglades, so we pulled six miles up the Barron River into the little town of Everglades City, the headquarters for Everglades National Park.

With some trepidation we stayed at the famous Rod and Gun Club.  It has a somewhat mixed reputation among Loopers since it is really set up as a hotel rather than a marina so the services are pretty sparse (e.g., lights in the bathroom didn’t work the first two days).  But the place is such a well-preserved piece of Everglades ancient history and the people are so nice, that all-in-all I think it was a good pick.

The Rod and Gun Club was for decades the personal lodge of Barron Collier (as in Collier County), the hugely wealthy founder of the New York City transit advertising industry and a real estate developer who once owned a million acres of south Florida property.  He thought Everglades City would become the next Miami, and got that one wrong, but the little real estate schemes he called Naples and Marco island did rather well for him.

(Side note:  When you name your child “Barron Gift Collier”, it must be a sign that you’ve got things pretty well mapped out for him.  I have never seen a cop roust a homeless guy and say, “Hey, Barron, let’s get moving.”)

The Rod and Gun Club looks like a movie set for a millionaire’s lodge, but it’s all very real, so it’s fun to eat there (good food, even our alligator appetizer), play pool in the billiard room, and just sit around in the comfortable old lounges and imagine the past glory of the place.  Collier used the lodge as a winter-time draw for politicians, writers such as Ernest Hemingway, movie stars, big game hunters such as Ernest Hemingway, business tycooons, and did I mention,Nobel prize-winner Ernest Hemingway.  They rather like the Hemingway connection here.

The highlight of our stay was an airboat ride into the Everglades.  We saw a lot of wildlife, and boy do those babies move!  Our guide was a third-generation airboat jockey, and really knew his stuff, getting us into some impossibly narrow places and running us OVER the muddy spots to get way into the mangroves.

Last night coming down to the Keys was in the Little Shark River, basically the only useable anchorage for deep-draft boats in an 80-mile stretch.  We heard all kinds of noises coming out from the Glades on a perfectly starlit, warm night, so I was secretly glad that we hadn’t pulled too far up the river.

Going up the river to Everglades City, you pass hundreds of these Mangrove Islands

The Rod and Gun Club, Everglades City

Rod and Gun Club interior features a handsome dead animal motif.

Dining room at the Rod and Gun Club

R&G billiard room. John and I played (poorly) every night.

John and friend at the airboat place

Tourists heading for the Glades

Eight-foot gator about two feet from the boat

Family of racoons came down to the boat to see if they could cadge a snack

This guy jumped on oour boat for a free ride back to the dock.

Mangrove Forest Primeval

They run the boat up to about 20 mph on these straight stretches and it feels like 100

Anchorage, Little Shark River, the Everglades — you can’t get any further from Block Island physically or mentally than this

Sunset, Little Shark River, the Everglades

Our airboat — even fully loaded it will go 30 miles per hour in 8 inches of water

Sorry I have been so long between posts, but we just got through the Everglades, where Wi-Fi and phone signals are non-existent.  Mangroves, ‘gators and critters galore, but no megabits.

On our way south we made a brief stop in Fort Myers to replenish our groceries and see the Edison Museum and Edison/Ford winter estates.  Then a quick stop in Naples before entering the Everglades.  And again, the constant theme of contrast which makes this trip so interesting.

Edison was a master of the physical sciences and shrewd businessman, but he was also a naturalist, avid camper, fisherman and garden designer (with his wife Mina).  His winter home is one of the most attractive I have ever seen, all porches and windows and vistas out to the gardens and river.  It is made of all local, natural materials and just oozes a cool and relaxing ambience.  It is not a large home, by today’s standards, but comfortable and tasteful without austentation.  The Ford house next door is basically a large farmhouse, cleverly designed to be open to the breezes wherever they come from.

Then we went down the coast, and around the corner to Naples and mile after mile of hedge fund austentation.  Naples is so ritzy that you can’t even anchor, since I guess boats might spoil the view at cocktail hour.  I tend to think they improve the view, but whatever.

Yes, it’s fun to look at the big palaces, but I just don’t think think plywood and reinforced concrete can compare to the Edison style.  And these big barns must cost a fortune to keep cool versus porches, doors and windows.

The kitchen’s and heated “den” are to the left, the “cool” part of the house is to the right

Edison’s beautiful, comfortable winter home

Edison’s swimming pool

Edisons very simple winter office

Edison’s dining room. Herbert Hoover ate here.

Ford’s house. All porches in back by the river. French doors open the house all the way front to back.

John calls this one “Barbie’s Dream Mansion”

Same architect did the Nebraska State Penitentiary

Don’t they get lost in there?

Gotta have lions

Mega ranch — this is an older one and actually looks more appropriate to the area

I have been to Captiva Island twice before — once as part of a sales meeting and once at the tail end of a market research project.  So both times I was physically there, but mentally at work.

This time I couldn’t remotely afford Captiva’s  crown Jewel, South Seas Plantation, so we wound up on the boat at funky Tween Waters Resort and Marina for a grand total of $91 per night, all resort amenitities included.  It’s really quite nice — good pool, good restaurant, friendly staff.  And of course, right on one of the most beautiful beaches in Florida and a half mile from Captiva village.

A lot of things make Captiva uniquely attractive — it’s the furthest of a long string of islands and a long haul from Ft.Myers, so no daytrippers.  It’s just far enough south  to be tropical, so the flowers and vegetation are beautiful and the weather never really cold.  And it has a sort of tasteful class, for the most part, that so much of Florida lacks.  It’s small and has been developed for years and years, so I think the residents and developers tend to preserve and improve rather than build the latest over-the-top 40,000 square foot mansion a la Naples and Marco Island.  Captiva is known for its restaurants, and although we went totally tourist at the Bubble Room (antique toys everywhere, always Christmas, waiters in Boy Scout uniforms, decent seafood) I saw I half-dozen places I would not hesitate to try.  You can walk or bike anywhere, no car needed, and in fact, cars are discouraged in favor of golf carts.

One of the Loop’s best-known bloggers, Betsy Johnson, says the test of a really good town is when she turns to her husband Rick and says, “You know, we could live here, let’s move.”  Captiva is on that list for me, and if I could afford it, right near the top.

Funky Tween Waters Resort and Marina

At the pool, Tween Waters

The pool itself. Tween Waters ain’t Caneel Bay, but it’s comfortable and in the right place — Captiva

View of Pine Island Sound from Memsahib’s berth.

Captiva has enough rain (and money) to support wonderful tropical landscaping.

Captiva is our first really tropical destination — flowers everywhere

Joined the crowds on the beach every night looking for the Green Flash, but didn’t see it. Good sunsets, though.

Central Captiva has a very Mediterranean feel. Molly, this color is terra cotta.

Everywhere in waterside Florida, people are going to totally over the top with beach “cottages.” 20 miles inland near Ft. Myeers we saw real people sleeping on the streets

Pine Island Sound — the area bordered by Fort Myers, Sanibel, Captiva and Pine Islands — has climbed to our number two favorite place  after Canada, just ahead of Kentucky Lake.   What development there is (outside Cape Coral and Fort Myers) is low key, the beaches are pristine, and the sound is totally protected by the islands, so it’s never rough.

We spent the first night on anchor at Cape Haze, a perfectly protected round cove surrounded by jillion-dollar homes (photo got erased somehow).  It was a nice stop, but I felt like I’d pulled a camper into some tycoon’s backyard and called out, “Don’t worry about us, we’re just here for the night.”

Then onto one of the most famous of the Pine Island anchorages, Pelican Bay at Cayo Costa State Park — only accessible by boat, protected, and a huge beach and tropical nature trails.  It was a cool Monday, so we had the beach to ourselves, but a fair number number of boats were just vegging out in the anchorage.

Then onto another well-known spot, the anchorage at Useppa Island across from the Cabbage Key Inn.  We dinghied over for lunch (again, boat-accessbile only) and it was great.  They let you climb up the water tower and you can see for miles.  Cabbage Key’s famous gimmick is that the whole restaurant is plastered with dollar bills.  Legend has it that the tarpon fishermen who were the inn’s initial guests used to put their name on a bill and pin it up, so after a day of fishing, drinking and gambling, they’d always have a buck for one last beer.  Molly and I went there year’s ago while staying at South Seas plantation, but I couldn’t find our dollar among the 80,000.

Then on to Captiva Island, which deserves its own entry.  If I am ever afflicted by religion, I won’t ask to go to heaven, just back to Captiva.

Pelican Bay, Cayo Costa State Park (photo from another boat since my card got full)

John Kessinger, last man on earth, at Cayo Costa beach

Beautiful nature trail at Cayo Costa

Cabbage Key Inn is wall-papered with dollar bills

John doing the dollar ceremony

John’s Donation to the Cabbage Key Inn

View of Pine Island Sound from the water tower at Cabbage Key

You know you are in a fancy marina when it has valet parking — I guess so you don’t wear out your Manolo boat shoes lugging your Coach boat bags from the parking lot.

We wound our way down the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway from Tarpon Springs, past Tampa and into Sarasota, where we foumd ourselves at plush Marina Jack, right downtown.  It was another one of those head-turning Memsahib’s Voyage moments — from Greek pastry and sponge fishermen to ultrasophisticated Sarasota.  Downtown was great — scores of restaurants, Starbucks,  bookstores, a beautiful library — and A GIANT WHOLE FOODS MARKET.

We spent a day in a rental car doing all the chain retail basics that we’d been away from for a long time — Publix, Home Depot, PetSmart, Kohls, Cheeburger-Cheeburger, then had a great Mexican dinner after a long stroll through town.  Sarasota has its share of high rise development, but it’s tastefully woven in with cultural attractions and low-rise retail.  Downtown was totally packed every night we were there.  Someone has really thought the zoning through in Sarasota.

And we did something that we hadn’t done since Thanksgiving — slept in real beds.  We didn’t want to miss the NFL playoffs, so we spent a night with Sparta at the cheap, pet-friendly LaQuinta Inn.  Sparta had never been in such a large space in her whole life and had a great time exploring every nook and cranny when she wasn’t watching football.

Hate to say it given the weather situation at home — but it’s been beautiful.  Breezy so you have to watch yourself in open water, and cool — but cool in Southwest Florida is high 60s.

Marina Jack

Sarasota skyline from Memsahib’s dock at Marina Jack.

Typical downtown Sarasota Street.

Sarasota Public Library

I’m not much into modern houses, but this one would do.

Would I want MY Sarassota mansion right next to ANOTHER GUY’s Sarasota mansion? Birds of a feather, I guess.

Crew doing what it does best — watching football and eating pizza.

Would I ever lie to you?

Loopers readily agree that Tarpon Springs is the gold at the end of the tough crossing rainbow.  It is scenic, it is different, it is fun and it is WARM!

Tarpon Springs has the largest concentration of residents of Greek descent in the United States — and for obvious reasons, more every day.  Their heritage permeates the entire town, not just the touristy waterfront — restaurants, architecture, churches, social clubs.  The rest of Florida tries to have that sort of beige/terra cotta Mediterranean motif.  Tarpon Springs is the whitest white and bluest blue right out of the Greek Islands.

It all started in 1905 with the discovery of a huge natural sponge colony right outside Tarpon, and an entrepreneur began encouraging Greek sponge divers to emigrate.  It was dangerous work in those old copper diving helmets between storms, predators, and the risk of the bends.  The fishery died out with the discovery of synthetics, but you can still buy local, natural sponges — for about $20 each.

We all stayed at Turtle Cove Marina, a beautiful facility on an island within a block of the waterfront and sponge exchange.  The owner saw us all down at the Tiki Bar kind of in shock after the crossing, and when some of us showed up at the cruisers lounge a bit later, a free hamburger/rib/sausages dinner was on the barbecue ready and waiting!  Word spreads fast in the Looper community and no Looper will probably ever go anywhere else.

But the greatest attraction of all in Tarpon Springs has got to be the incredible Hellas Greek Bakery.  I think Greeks make the world’s greatest pastry.  As a young reporter in Salinas, CA, I did a story on the local Greek Orthodox community and discovered the wonders of filo and baklava.  (I was the paper’s religion editor, by the way, since they figured as a known atheist, I would be fair to all parties.)  So one day we had a little rum-infused sponge savarin for lunch, a small baklava pick-me-up in the afternoon, and honey-soaked walnut cake with a spun-filo top after dinner.  All washed down with hold-on-to-your-heart-rate Greek coffee.

Looper pictures are from Catherine from Next to Me, who has a wonderful blog at

http://olallabay.blogspot.com/

Restoration of a sponge boat from the heydy of the sponge industry. They are very beautiful, very Greek and made of cypress, which is impossilbe to find now

“Modern” sponge boat. Most of them are set up for shrimping, too.

In Tarpon Springs, you want sponges, they got sponges! We counted 12 sponge markets on Deodocenase Avenue alone.  John bought a preserved aliigator head for Sparta here.  Sweet boy!

Tarpon Springs has a huge Greek cathedral with a bishop and the whole nine yards.

Hellas Greek Bakery — the best reason of all to visit Tarpon Spring

Loopers at Hellas Restaurant.

Everyone at Hellas Restaurant has to try the flaming cheese and yell “OOPA!” when they fire it off. They light it off with Greek brandy that could also be used in Memsahib’s stove in a pinch.

Looper ladies celebrate the engagment of Laura and Ross from The Zone at the Turtle Cove pool.

Looper Central, Tarpon Springs — the Turtle Cove Tiki bar.

Leaving Tarpon Springs for points south. But Hellas Bakery will always bring me back. Memsahib still looks pretty good.

I am reverting back to the two days we spent in Apalachicola just before our Gulf crossing.  It is a funky little one-stoplight town of which I am very fond and I have been here enough times that I can actually spell it and say it right.  Perhaps my feelings have something to do with the six great seafood restaurants, scenic working waterfront and history at every step.

Apalach architecture is particularly interesting because the town has been through three great booms — cotton, lumber and shellfish harvesting.  But over-planting burned the nutrients out of the ground that are needed to grow cotton, they chopped down all the juniper, cypress and live oak trees and the oysters are on their way out.  For the past three years, virtually no fresh water has come from the parched midwest into Apalachee Bay.  We know, we were there on all the dried up lakes and rivers.  Anyone who doesn’t believe in climate change should take this trip.

Anyway, within a block you will see Greek Revival, Victorian and rambling Southern big-porch, pressed- tin- roof houses cheek by jowl.  If you see somone out raking or watering, you will get the whole house story, since these people are justifiably proud of the well-preserved ones.

Apalach is also the home of Dr. John Gorrie, a little-known hero of medicine and physics.  Yellow fever was so bad in Apalach before the Civil War that the good doctor worked for years on perfecting a way to bring the victims relief, and in the process, the self-trained physicist invented refrigeration  Sadly, he died of what sounds like exhaustion just when the first working model was perfected.

So now Apalach depends on tourism, but it’s so remote that I hope they make it.  The town is a treasure.

I Water Street Hotel. Nice slips in back. I was very tempted to haul out the American Express and sleep in a real bed and take a real bath, but would have been scorned by my fellow loopers.

Apalachicola — not much to look at, but I am very fond of the place.

Apalach Waterfront — Chamber of Commerce Picture, couldn’t get one from the boat.

Raney House — perfect Greek Revivial from 1832. Closed the day we were there!

Grady Market — during the lumber boom, a major ship chandlery. Now and art-gourmet-clothing-garden-antiques-book-gift store.

Gorrie museum — great tour because I was the only visitor.

Replica of the ice machine of 1855. Not exactly a Sub Zero, but you can see the essential pieces — compressor, tank for refrigerant, teensy wooden box for the ice,

Perfect Victorian B&B.