Endless Summer--or Endless November

The temperature yesterday morning in Cold Bay, Alaska was higher than in Pensacola, Florida. The jet stream, which dictates how far south the arctic blast can meander, has parked itself over the Straits of Florida. For the past several days, we have awoken to temperatures in the 30s and 40s with wind chills in the 20s and 30s.

On the bright side, because of the colder weather we have the waterways to ourselves. Florida boaters are hunkered down warming their hands over their laptops and cell phones. Other snowbirds like us, who plow down the ICW to the Keys and the Bahamas are all already positioned at their destinations.

Another good side of colder and windier days is that the bugs that so fiercely attack Mandy are unable to navigate in the high winds. She is safe for awhile. We hope not to repeat the vicious attack she suffered back in Harbortown Marina just before Christmas. I counted 50 weeping welts just on one leg. She probably had three hundred or more over her whole body. These are the notorious "no-see-ums" which resemble tiny gnats (they are visible) and inject an anticoagulant which allows for better extraction of body fluids from its victims. Mandy reacts badly to these injections.

Another bright side is that the skies are sunny and bright. The pictures above look as if they were taken on a balmy warm afternoon. In fact, they were all taken in temperatures in the 50s. In our minds, we created expectations of warm sunny days in the Florida Keys. The days have been sunny---just not warm. The Keys and lower Florida are as beautiful as ever---just not warm.

Yesterday, we reached our destination at Banana Bay Marina in Marathon, Florida in the Keys. But each morning over the past week began with our daily ritual of bundling up. I personally put on a thermal shirt and pants covered by a T-shirt, a denim shirt, a sweatshirt, another sweatshirt, and topped off with foul weather jacket. Mandy dresses similarly. If we were home in Columbus, I would wear fewer clothes to go shovel snow. After an hour of shoveling I would sit by the fire to warm up. But open cockpit boats don't drive themselves and once the anchor is weighed and we are underway I remain at the helm for six to eight hours dressed like a "Tick about to Pop" like Christmas Story Randy.

I'm not whining. It's just facts folks! It's great to be here. We have seen pods of dolphin playing around our boat, thirsty manatees drinking fresh water from a hose, an eight foot shark (OK three foot!!)and more species of birds than we recognize. It's great to see the tropical fauna and flora again. Coconuts and palm fronds float by the boat. Outside, a banana wind is blowing. That's a wind just strong enough to blow bananas from the banana trees. Maybe we'll score some fresh bananas today.

And the cold weather keeps people hiding out in the bars and we are fortunate to meet them. In Miami, we taxied to a liquor store--the kind with a sleazy lounge attached. We did our "walk down a street and turn into a bar" magic trick and found ourselves transported back in time to when drinking was a sport. The bar, named Happy's Stork Lounge" is the third oldest in Miami. Built about 1950, the lounge once had a neighboring bar owned by Dean Martin. Deano's bar entertained a tough crown who sometime spilled over into Happy's. Two bullet holes grace the walls of Happy's Lounge--the result of an unknown dispute of some thugs who frequented Deano's. The holes penetrated a hand painted mural which the bartender, Tanacy, says was painted about the time the bar was built. The mural of bar patrons drinking and couples flirting wraps around two walls of the bar. It's a little dark and faded but provides the mood of the bar's history.

Tanacy, a scotsman, told about his recent boating experience. "I got droonk as hell at the marina bah and when I clymbed down the laadder to my friend's boot I got tangled in a roll of gahden hoose he had left on deck. I couldn't figure my way out of the tangle of hoose so I just slept there on deck. When I opened muy euys it was still daak. I thought that I had slept through the night, through the next day and into the next night until I tried to get up and realized that Sampson, (his overfed pitbull who was lying on the floor in the bar) was lying on my head with his balls coovering muy euyes. No woonder it was daak."

The photos above are sailing down Biscayne Bay, looking back at Miami, Boca Chita Key in Biscayne Bay, cormorants in the Keys.