Shadow of the Rockies

 Well I bought a 4 year old Jeep, spent 30K plus turning it into an offroad machine.

Metalcloak 4.5 inch 4-link long arm suspension, six pack shocks, 38 inch tires with beadlock rims, and etc.

As the Jeep was completed the Covid Hoax was in full play. My work cut back and although my pay dropped my off time doubled.

What to do?

I found out about the Trans America Trail. Apparently some motorcyclist named Sam mapped out a dirt road from North Carolina to Oregon. Hmmm, now that sounds interesting.

I investigate further and learn that he has a route called "The Shadow of the Rockies". It starts in El Paso Texas, crosses eastern New Mexico, the Colorado Rockies, and ends in Baggs, Wyoming.

My best friend lives in El Paso, hmmm. So with minimal planning I grabbed my 7 and 9 year old boys and we made the 1732 miles from Tampa to El Paso in 31 hours.

After two restfull nights at my buddy's 12,000 square foot home (indoor pool, insane luxury) we got on the road. All my fluids were changed and I had a good look over of the vehicle before leaving.

We wandered East of town, found the start of the trail and it began.

Captain's Log - 1530

       We docked in our backyard. This trip is complete.
       Our boat, latest picture above, took on a little damage during the trip. If we can get it rebuilt: next year we explore the Ten Thousand Islands on the west side of the everglades, otherwise it is a motorcycle trip.

Of Stowaways and Skunk Apes

       For those of you who have been following this blog you may not be aware of the problems we have encountered with uninvited guests. Soon after we left the dock we discovered a stowaway lurking on our upper deck. Our concern about this intruder diminished once we found out he was unarmed. The poor man was literally unarmed as he had no arms and was missing various other vital body parts kind of like a giant Ken Doll. Our concern turned to sympathy for this unfortunate handicapped man.

      We could not return to port, so we decided to make "Bob" part of the crew. We assigned him various tasks without success. He lacked basic communication skills and seemed to have a real attitude problem. No matter what we told him to do he just stood there with the same hostile scowl on his face.
       We kind of gave up on him and left him on his own. He would sit motionless for hour after hour staring out to sea, completely withdrawn into his own world. Other Boaters would pass by and wave but Bob never waved back. He did not seem to care about or even notice other people. Some of these Boaters would become angry with Bob's apparent rudeness and flip him off. Now you can't blame an armless man for not waving, but Bob went out of his way to avoid making any acknowledgement whatsoever. Bob was becoming a real problem.
       The only thing that Bob was able to do as part of the crew was security watch. Whenever we left the houseboat unattended Bob remained aboard and I am sure that his muscular presence and angry scowl intimidated any would-be river pirates.

       Bob stayed with us until we once again reached the lower Suwannee on our river descent. That is when we found a new crewmember. The lower Suwannee is completely isolated. The swampy lowlands are covered by a thick forest which blots out all sunlight. This remote damp dark region is one of the last strongholds of the Florida Skunk Ape. For those of you who are not up-to-date on your cryptozoology: the Florida Skunk Ape is a close relative of their Bigfoot cousins who live in the Pacific Northwest. Skunk Apes run a bit smaller, at 6 or 7 feet tall on average, than their larger relatives out west. Sightings of Skunk Apes are usually accompanied by a very foul odor – hence their name.

        We met a medium sized Skunk Ape wandering the dark forest alone. He wanted to come on board. I had to feel for the guy living in that damp rotting "green hell" by himself. A clean comfortable dry houseboat must have looked like heaven to him. So we relented and allowed him to come on board.
       For those of you who dabble in Cryptozoology, or at least are addicted to Monsterquest on TV, we have found out why Skunk Apes smell the way they do. They have a digestive gas issue from all the rotting vegetation they ingest in their native habitat. Once "Skunky" ate a bottle of GasX and settled in on a diet of junk food and beer things settled down considerably.

       Skunky has proven to be a much better crewmate than Bob ever was. He enjoys waving at passing boats. In fact he spends the whole day guzzling beer from his drinking hat and waving. A true Party Animal.
       Our Skunk Ape friend has really settled in and enjoys the civilized life. We are trying to support him in his ambition to become a member of the rock band "ZZ Top".

Our first sighting of Skunky in his native habitat. Notice how hard he is to spot. This ability to hide within the dark relm of their habitat was developed from millions of years of evolution. It helps to explain the rarity of Skunk Ape sightings.

Skunky quickly settled into his favorite place on the houseboat.

Captain's Log - 1012

Nursing a massive hangover from last night and with the weather turning rough tomorrow we decided to head home. Sailing out the Bayport channel into a smooth Gulf of Mexico. Should be home in four hours.

Snorkeling the Weeki Wachee

       Weeki Wachee is beautiful. Today we took the dinghy up the river to snorkel. It is a weekday so we beat the crowds by being early. The river is narrow, the sky obscured by trees that meet from opposite banks as we motor upriver. The water became increasingly clear as we neared the headspring. The stream is an obstacle course of logs, sandbars, and overhanging trees and vines. I had to wheel one way then the other to keep us clear as we struggled upriver. The water was so clear it seems that we would run aground when the water was actually 4 feet deep.

       Once we were about a mile from the head spring we put on our snorkeling gear and followed the current down the river. I got the duty of towing the boat down as we snorkeled. Schools of large mullet scattered as we came by. Foot-long Snook, Sheephead, Sergeant Majors, and Largemouth Bass hung about the roots of trees in the rocks and shadows. Visibility was about 40 feet and the water a cool 75 degrees.

       A mile after we started I tired of retrieving the boat from branches, logs, and vines which kept snatching the boat from my grasp. Tamara was far ahead of me. I signaled her to stop and we took a break by a couple of deep spots in the river. The sun was shining so we enjoyed the scenery for about an hour as we intermittantly snorkeled the deep holes in the river bottom.
       This part of Florida is covered by springs and spring fed rivers such as Weeki Wachee. I grew up in Southern California where crystal clear streams only existed in the high mountains. There crystal clear equaled high altitude, sharp rocks, and ice-cold water. Here the water is a comfortable 75 degrees, we are a few feet above sea level, and the bottom is soft white sand.
       Once we got back into the boat we soon came upon some Manatees. A medium sized male and a mother and her small pup. The male lounged in the deep and seemed to be asleep. Tamara jumped in and ended up petting the baby as the mother held back a few feet. The baby was friendly and playful. It came forward spraying water on her and lifting its head above the water. The mother soon herded her baby back up a mucky bayou and we chose not to follow.

       So many people come to Florida to see the magic of Disney. The true magic is in the unique natural world here which you will not find anywhere else.
       While sitting at anchor we ordered a pizza from a nearby town. I met the delivery girl at at the Bayport Park dock. Within an hour of our call I had a delicious pizza back on the boat as we watched movies. That is what I like about Bayport, you are isolated in the middle of nowhere yet you are actually not far from a population center and  for us we only 20 miles from our home.

Manatee head in hiding 8 feet of water. Yeah, I need help as a photographer.

Tamara jumps into the water to harasss a poor family of Manatees.

       NOTE: Generator died this AM as we were getting into the dinghy. Upon our return I found that one fuel tank was basically dry. I filled with 35 gallons of fuel from our 5 gallon jugs. I also changed the generator oil. Generator is working fine. I guess running 32 miles and 48 hours or so of generator time is 35 gallons of burn? Anyway, fuel total is 275 gallons.

Bayport

       We completed 31.6 miles in 5 hours and 36 minutes to travel from Homosassa to Bayport. Bayport is tiny. The population is only 36. In spite of this they have a bar, the Bayport Inn, which is popular with local bikers. This fly speck of a community is located on the north side of the mouth of the Weeki Wachee River and has a rich history as a port used by Civil War blockade runners. The Union Navy caught 11 blockade runners here during the war and an old Confederate coastal defense battery position can be seen here.
       The City of Weeki Wachee, population 12, is just upriver and it also has a fine bar and restaurant, the Upper Deck. The Upper Deck is located directly on the river and has a dock. At low tide the river below the restaurant runs crystal clear from the spring. You can usually spot a manatee or two swimming by below and there is a white sand city beach right across the river full of sunbathers. This establishment has an expansive menu and the food is excellent. It is also a good place to socialize.
       The Bayport Channel is shallow; if you draw more than 2 feet go at high tide. If you draw more than 4 feet good luck! I come here often because it is gorgeous and we are always alone in the little anchorage. This spot requires 3 foot or less of draft unless you don't mind sitting aground on soft bottom half the day. I anchor 500 yards inside the mouth of the river just south of the channel. It is 3 feet deep here at low tide.

       You cannot anchor much past where we do as the river narrows and has shallow spots. Dinghy further upriver is fine.
       The thing about this place is that it really is pretty isolated. It is surrounded by wildlife refuges that give it that sense of isolation in spite of the fact that it is about 5 or 6 miles from heavily populated suburban areas. Although Bayport and Weeki Wachee do not have a large populations; unincorporated areas along the river and estuary have many inhabitants not counted in their population totals.

       The Weeki Wachee River is beautiful little spring run which stretches about 6 miles long before being overtaken by salt marsh leading to the river mouth. Weeki Wachee Spring is a first magnitude spring which kicks out about 64 million gallons of clear water a day. Most of the lower part of the spring run has waterfront homes on at least one side. The little river gets clearer and more beautiful the closer to the headspring you get. A small boat with an outboard or kayak is the appropriate way to visit the upper river.
If you want to see anything on the river go early in the morning on a weekday and you will see manatees, fish, and maybe a small alligator or an otter. Go on the weekend and you will find a two-legged zoo as the spring is located close to large populations of humans.

Captain's Log - 1335

Seas continue to build. So I did the logical thing and let Tamara take charge while I took a hot shower and then layed out on the couch in the living room with a cold beer. Only 2 miles to the Bay Port outer channel marker.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY NANCY!!!

Captain's Log - 1208

Seas have built and now range from 2 feet up to 4 feet plus. We were rocking pretty bad. I altered course and and things have settled down. This short 10 mile trip down the coast is a bit more exciting then we like. The rocking seas knocked my beer over, what a waste!

Captain's Log - 1105

       We are about 3 miles from the very end of the Homosassa channel about to turn toward our next stop: Bayport.
       The Gulf is full of white caps but so far the ride is smooth. As we make our turn toward Bayport I expect a nasty beam sea for several hours.

The Zoo and the Freezer

      

       This morning we weighed anchor and moved our boat to near the outflow point of Homosassa Spring. The water runs relatively clear here. As I dropped anchor a smallish manatee came up and nibbled on the rope. He, or she, stayed there for some time as I ran about the boat setting an anchor front and rear. I assumed I'd be seeing him and his relatives all day so I did not get the camera. Too bad, I have not seen a manatee since.
       Homosassa Spring has been captured by the State Park Service and surrounded with fences and signs reading "unauthorized entry prohibited". Within these fences a pay-for-entry zoo surrounds the spring. Downstream of the fences the spring water still flows relatively clear. Here is where a zoo of another kind is in session all day. It began when a gaggle of 25 Kayakers came by at 9 AM, and it hasn't stopped yet. Boats come and go. Some with families wanting to swim, some with drunks wanting to drink, some with tourists in rental boats wanting to see something they have not seen before.
       One boat load of drunks in a rental pontoon boat tried to steal my rear anchor. I was sitting on the front porch and the boat started drifting toward the Zoo fence. Hmmm? I went to the back of the boat and two White Beach Manatees were hanging onto my rear anchor trip-line buoy. Seems they thought they had found a lost anchor and were trying to drag it into the boat. I pointed out to them that generally speaking if an anchor is attached to a boat it belongs to someone. They accepted this logic and I even heard one of the male Manatees tell his lady: "I told you it was someone's anchor". I might have lost my anchor were it not for its 33 pounds of weight and 30 pounds of chain. Someone would have to be pretty freaken stupid to not realize that this anchor was taken. A bright white anchor line attaching it to my boat is instantly visible through the clear water…. Somehow I believe they were not dishonest only dumb. Um, maybe not so dumb. Now I have a polite middle-class family with a nice new deck boat tying up to my rear anchor trip-line. They say they thought it was a mooring buoy. Like I said: this place is a Zoo.

       I remember the first time I saw Homosassa Spring. The water was so clear, the fish so plentiful and large, and the manatees so easy to spot swimming by slowly - it was almost magical. Now after seeing the isolated springs further into the wilderness we are spoiled and it is somewhat disappointing here in this suburban spring.
       The most disappointing part of it is the Zoo. The one with the four-legged animals in it. Zoos are full of animals. Animals produce waste. This waste finds its way into the water. After I swam in the spring I had to take a shower. Yuk. Even in the suburban "Three Sister's Spring" in Crystal river I felt clean and vibrant when I exited the water. Here? Grimy. While I was snorkeling visibility was maybe 20 feet? In other springs it is close to unlimited. I really wish they'd get rid of the out-of-place Zoo and let the spring be what it is – a natural wonder.
       The best place to eat in Homosassa is the Freezer. A former fish processing plant freezer turned into a bar and restaurant. They have a limited menu that changes daily based on what is fresh that day. What they serve is outstanding, and of course the beer is ice cold. Oh, and its cheap. Apparently this competition upset the other businesses in the area. The county mysteriously rezoned the area residential, in spite of the fact the fish processing plant had been there for decades, in order to force them to close. The Freezer is still open and fighting it out in the courts.
Note: We took on 38 gallons of fuel for houseboat and dinghy. 240 gallons so far.

Crystal River to Homosassa

       Homosassa is about 10 miles south of Crystal River. In a car that is 10 minutes. In the boat it is not that simple. Remember in this part of Florida the water deepens about a foot a mile. In addition there are some very shallow flats, less than a foot, which extends well out to sea between the two towns. I have to figure out the mileage but I left Crystal River at 8 AM and we got here at 4 PM. Eight hours at speeds ranging from 5 mph to 7 mph.

       The Gulf waters are finally becoming clear, though not as crystaline as they are at home in Port Richey. We were gliding across the flats in water 8 feet deep and you can see the sea grass covered bottom perfectly.

       We are old hands in Homosassa; this is probably our fourth trip here in this boat. It is a great little town of 2200 people. It has a much smaller town feel than Crystal River in that the latter city is adjacent to suburban areas outside its city limits whereas Homosassa sits surrounded by wildlife sanctuaries. There is one big spring here which sits next to a State Park Zoo which to me seems completely out of place. The river channel is deep and wide enough for us to reach the spring in the houseboat. The river channel to the town is good for anyone drafting 4 feet or less, more if you time it to high tide.

       Tomorrow we plan to anchor at the spring and snorkel.

Native Florida Spider Monkeys.... not really. Right in the middle of the main river channel there is a small island where the owners of a resort have placed monkeys, at the present time there are five. The monkeys date back decades and are a remnant from the old road side attraction days prior to the interstate highway system. The resort is still in business and you can hang around the Monkey Bar and drink while you watch the monkeys play - I mean the ones on the island.

This is the Gulf of Mexico. It is shallow and pretty calm much of the time. Hence our purchase of a shallow draft houseboat. Boats made for the ocean are only good for travel in channels to and from Marinas. We can go places that Sea Rays and other boats built for boat shows cannot. If you are going to boat Florida or the Bahamas, get a boat with as little draft as possible.

Crystal River

  

       The city of Crystal River is huge compared the little boroughs we've had the pleasure of cruising though the last couple of weeks, it has a population of 3600. The town is centered on King's Bay, a sort of large bayou which is fed by numerous streams and springs. Some parts of the bay are murky and almost stagnant, others are crystal clear from the springs which either empty into the bay or bubble up beneath it. The entire bay is surrounded by waterfront homes and hotels. We are back in civilization for sure, and that is a bit disappointing.
       What was also a bit disappointing was the presence of the US Coast Guard. Kings bay is one big boat ticket trap. We witnessed time and again the boys in blue pulling over boats for everything imaginable. If the police authorities behaved that way in our home port of Port Richey I do believe there would be a rebellion.
       We found good anchorage in a nest of poorly maintained sailboats moored on the north side of Buzzard's Island, part of a wildlife refuge. I read many reports from cruisers who reported shallow areas getting up the river channel. We had no problems. The channel was never less than 7 feet at low tide, and mostly 15 feet or more. Kings Bay seems to be about 6 to 10 feet deep on the north side, much shallower toward the South.
       Kings Bay is home to some 600 manatees in the winter. Manatees cannot tolerate temperatures of less than 68 degrees F. for very long. Florida springs generally issue forth their clear water at 72 degrees year round. Hence, the Manatees seek the warm water in the winter. I have no idea how many manatees there are in King's Bay this day, this being September, but we saw many of them. Seeing manatees is big business here and you can see tour boats full of tourists going back and forth all day.
       We were tourists too. We took our dinghy to a spring called the "Three Sisters" because the spring water boils up from three closely spaced springs. This spring is reached from a channel which is located off a suburban canal. It is a little different from finding these springs out in the wild. Once we snorkeled into the spring it was indeed a piece of wilderness with its clear blue waters surrounded by tall trees. We were alone in the spring. Literally, as there were no manatees or even fish there. This spring is heavily used and although quite gorgeous a bit of a disappointment compared to the springs we found up on the Suwannee.
       After enjoying the perfect weather from the upper deck of our boat we went out to explore the bay and ended up exploring several waterfront bars. We are both feeling the after effects of that today as we cruise to Homosassa.

Nancy, Best Bartender on the Nature Coast of Florida. Find her at the Ale House. She grows fresh mint for her Mojitos, and she gave us some to plant at home.

At last we found an achorage where we had the best looking boat!

Note: Fuel dock at Pete's Marina was easy access and they had a pump-out (free) located there too. Outstanding Service. I took on 58 gal of fuel. Last time I fueled was at Millers Marina in Suwannee - 22 gals. Total on trip so far is 202 gallons. Not bad for the hundreds of miles traveled and hundreds of hours on the generator.

Leaving the Withlacoochee

Events of 23 September 2009       We took a little dinghy tour of the lower Withlacoochee River this morining. The sky was overcast and foggy. We ran down the little river and rousted out the biggest gator of the trip. Maybe 14 feet? All we saw was his head. It was the size of a horse's head. He quickly slid below the water. They don't get that big without being stealthy.
       It was a nice little tour and the pictures below speak for themselves.

About a hundred or so Wood Stocks were hanging about waiting for the day to start. These are a few of that flock. Rare species due to freshwater habitat destruction.

On the opposite side of the bayou from the woodstorks these Roseate Spoonbills held their section of the turf. They turn pink as they mature from the shrimp they eat.

White Ibis take flight over the marsh.

Small Gator awaiting the start of another day.

Two Ospreys and a Turkey Vulture guard the mouth of the Withlacoochee River.

Captain's Log - 1620

Just threw the anchor out in 8 feet of water in King's Bay, Crystal River.

We were met at the anchorage by two more of the malevolent dolphins. These pitiless creatures rolled about vertically doing a poor Flipper imitation as they manically laughed at us.

No telling what misdeeds these Hyenas of the sea have in mind for us.

Withlacoochee

Events of 22 September 2009

       We decided to stay another night in the Marina. I need the time to recharge as we've been going full bore for days. I am enjoying having a real shower which does not demand me loading the tanks with 5 gal cans. It is also nice to have electric without the generator.

       Yankeetown is a beautiful little waterfront town of 640 people located on this gorgeous little river. There seems to be only one small General Store in the whole town. They sell fishing equipment, hardware, plumbing items, fried chicken, and of course sundry goods/sodas/beer/gasoline. The houses are well kept. I suspect that many of the residents have money. Large commercial fishing boats line the river and can be seen leaving to sea about an hour before sunset.

       We took a boat trip upriver to the dam which feeds this lower portion of the Withlacoochee river. At one point a Cross Florida Barge Canal was planned to link the Saint John's River and the Withlacoochee Rivers to provide a commercial transportation route between the west and east coasts of Florida. Environmentalists challenged the project and it was closed down. The right-of-way bought up for the project was turned into a State Park. Immediately south of the Withlacoochee is part of this canal which was actually constructed. This leads to a huge lock which was to raise ships into an artificial lake formed by the waters of the Withlacoochee River. The lock is closed down and is now rusted shut. If it were not for this defunct project it would have been a short boat trip to the Rainbow River and Rainbow Springs. That crystal clear river is a true natural wonder. As it is our trip ended at the dam.

       Crackertown/Inglis proved to be nice, but somewhat downscale from Yankeetown. Gators were everywhere. We saw more of them here then on the Suwannee. I am sure that we passed hundreds and hundreds of gators on the Suwannee but they were hiding. Here the local reptilian monsters are quite at home around people and can be seen lounging around on the river banks. There are in fact several gators patrolling the area around our boat as it sits in the Marina.

       Hunger drove us to park the dinghy at a campground on Highway 19 and we walked into Inglis. We actually walked everywhere in Inglis in search of food. It is Tuesday, the one day of the week in which all but one restarant was closed. We ate at Gobblers. It was very good.

       Tomorrow we go to Crystal River.

       As we sit here tonight on the houseboat we have at least two alligators lurking on the opposite bank. The red relection of their eyes clearly visible in our boat's remote control spotlight.

Cedar Key to Yankeetown

Events of 21 September 2009

       We returned to shore about 11 AM to find our Golf Cart Missing. Dude where is my golf cart? Our memory of the previous night was imperfect to say the least. Um, maybe we left it somewhere else? The mystery was quickly solved by the rental guy who told us they collect wayward carts in the wake of the weekend. We were issued a new cart. Cedar Key is a little different. All they wanted when we rented the cart in the first place was $50 cash, no deposit, no credit card, no legal disclaimer, they merely wrote down our name and handed us the key. I really don't think they knew which cart we even had. When we got our second cart we found out that our old key still worked. All the carts are keyed alike. That is Cedar Key. People are pleasant, trusting, and everyone has wears a contented smile. Legal forms, deposits, and disclaimers just aren't part of the mindset.

       We toured the island including the museum and every road our golf cart would fit.

       After a nice lunch at a waterfront eatery we returned to the houseboat. We weighed anchor intending to drop anchor a quarter mile away where we would be better protected from the east wind and chop that had disturbed our sleep the previous night.
Once the two anchors were up we decided to just cruise on down the road to the Withlachcoochee River, only 15 miles away. The Withlachcoochee has three towns along its banks: Yankeetown, Inglis, and Crackertown.

       Dolphins continued their harassment; bullying us with their rowdy splashing, their sinister smiles masking a malevolent intelligence. Popping up only long enough to cast a glance at us with their unfeeling eyes. There was no getting rid of them, they were here to stay. Tamara continued to exhaust our camera's storage capacity attempting to take photos of their taunts. Digital cameras have a lag between when you push the button and when the shutter clicks. Our little Nikon is slow. This makes it almost impossible to get any evidence against the dolphins. If you press the button when you see a dolphin pop up out of the water the shutter will click after they are gone. It is pretty frustrating to have four dolphins jump completely clear of the water shoulder to shoulder on line five feet in front of the boat, snap the picture, and be rewarded with photo of the water completely devoid of any dolphins.
       With the exception of the dolphins, these long open ocean passages are a chance to relax. Once out of the channel I put the autopilot on and we can sit on the front porch and enjoy the warm breeze. Most boats don't have front porches, they should. There is no better place to sit and watch the world drift slowly by.
       We reached the Withlachcoochee channel and were rewarded with some gorgeous scenery as we transited up the river against a 2 mph tidal current. This little river is about the same width as the Santa Fe River was. The Santa Fe was a real flowing river, this is the tidal section of the river and it is this narrow. What the river gives up in width it more than makes up in beauty. It has more of a tropical feel than the Suwannee had; more palm trees, less cypress. The dark water mimics the Suwannee's reflective capacity. The channel is deep and well marked to the river mouth.
       We made it to our Marina, B's Marina and Campground, and docked up parallel to the river facing upstream.

The Crackertown Navy intercepted us on arrival and only let us pass when we showed them Tamara's Confenderate Bikini.

The Withlacoochee river runs deep. Large fishing boats were leaving for their nights work as we ran upriver.

The Withlacoochee is gorgeous. Here a Bald Eagle sits looking for his next meal. Photo opportunities such as this have convinced me to buy a BETTER camara.

Cedar Key

Events of 20 September 2009

       The damn dolphins just won't leave us alone. They mob the front of the boat in small family groups of 10 to 15. They splash and play directly in our path. The water is an opaque green; you can see perhaps 3 feet into its salty depths. Much better than the Suwannee but nothing like the crystal waters of our home 50 miles to the South.

       We arrived in Cedar Key and the entrance to the municipal boat docks was entirely too low for our boat. So we anchored out several hundred yards and took the dinghy into the crowded dock.
       Ah, Cedar Key, I love this place. The small town is a slice of Old Florida with great food and great opportunities to drink. Cedar Key is what Key West purports to be, but is not. Key West is a tourist trap where a drug-addicted underclass of service workers slave away to pay their exorbitant rents and yet live in miserable squalor. Their desperateness evidenced on the crime page of the Key West Citizen in the form of roomate on roomate violence. In contrast, this tiny town of 900 souls perched on a few islands is laid back and fun. Locals are always ready with a smile and a wave. Tourists flock here at times but this place is real. It has always been, and continues to be, an industrial town. The economy is as much about clam farming and fishing as it is about moneyed guests.
       As soon as we are on dry land we see a Golf cart rental – done. It is a little scary allowing Tamara to drive us about town in the cart, but it beats walking.

       Our waitress at the Salt Creek Shellfish Company in Suwannee raved about the chowder at Toni's restaurant. Tamara researched trip advisor on the way down and the positive reviews mean it is our first stop. The chowder is good, but we've had better.
       It is now time to bar hop. The typical drunken meandering ensures. At one point I decided to show my new found drinking buddy, Steve from Sacramento, our houseboat. Steve and I take our dinghy out in the dark leaving Tamara and his girlfriend at the bar. It was pitch black and I cannot find our boat. Dude, where is my boat?
       We wandered about in the dark without success. Boating neophyte Steve repeatedly pointed out the blinking channel markers as my boat. We are both pretty wasted, but I'm always that way when boating so it doesn't affect our search. Finally we found the houseboat. Somehow the houseboat had dragged our 33 pound claw anchor and was firmly against the town's rocky seawall in 2 feet of water. As soon as we reach the houseboat the fishfinder/depth meter on the dinghy dies.
       It is a good thing that I have a guy with me as it makes the recovery process much simpler. Steve lifts the 33 pound anchor and 30 pounds of chain onboard the dinghy and we tow the big boat to safety. I made sure the anchor was set, and then I threw in our 44 pound Delta anchor in a Bahamian moor just to make sure. I turned on the generator so our white and red rope lights were on lighting up the boat like a Christmas tree. Now we will not lose the boat.
       A couple hours later the bars close. Tamara and I return to the boat. It was easy to find and the air conditioning feels good.

etc.