Paying Taxes in Key West

The nice days just keep on coming. It is about 80 every day and about 60 at night with a breeze. On Saturday Scott, Sue and Andrea decided to go out in the dingy and explore on and around Christmas Tree Island near where we are anchored. We too some sandwiches and beers. The island is really ragged and pretty trashed up from prior visitors. Lots of cans and bottles and even an abandoned port-o-potty! We thought the view from the dingy was better so we began motoring around the island. On the East side of the island is the best evidence for why you don't stay here during hurricane season!

When we reached the far end of the island we passed the local fish and wildlife police...and yes, they 'pulled me over'. Jeez-o-peet!

Officer Friendly: Where's this boat's registration?
Me: Well, it has vaporized in the sun and I can't read it (expired a year ago).
Officer Friendly: But it IS registered, right?
Me: Oh sure...out of Illinois
Officer Friendly: Any ID.
(note I'm in a swimsuit in an 8 foot dingy)
Me: No
Officer Friendly: Do you have some on your main boat?
Me: Yes
Officer Friendly: Lifejackets?
Me: I have three seat cushions (which can be used as a floatation device in case of a water landing)
Officer Friendly: Those don't count.
Me: (to myself...uh oh)
Officer Friendly: Hang on to this line and we'll tow you back to your boat (OK, I don't know why...I guess we were being 'apprehended')

Once back on the boat Sue and Andrea went below to switch our y-valves to holding tank in case these clowns boarded us. But no, just gave me a ticket for not having life jackets and a warning to get the boat visibly registered. $61 for the life jacket fine. Oh well, since I'm basically living here for free I guess I should put some money in the Key West kitty.

Now for our first guest columnist. Here's Andrea's report on her first night aboard Enee Marie.

ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE FROM ENEE MARIE
by Andrea

I’m going to blah,blah,blah my trip down to the keys, and start right in to when I met up with Sue & Scott. There were hugs and beers – my kind of greeting. We walked around Key West a bit – added more beers, and decided to head out to Enee. I was certain I heard whispered asides between them, but did not understand what it meant until we were in the dinghy, and heading out to the boat.

BOY was it choppy. OK – it’s a little dinghy, with three adults plus my bags, and a few supplies in it, so I assumed that once we got on board, everything would be a lot smoother. Never assume.

“Hey Andrea, would you like another beer?” (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl) “Oh, no, I’m good.” (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl)

I go below to the vee berth to stow away my stuff. (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl) and hurry right back up top. The scenery is beautiful, the stars are breathtaking (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl) . Sue says “It’s going to calm down soon.” I say “Oh this is fine – I’m a little woozy down below, but I’m OK now. (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl) As bed time approaches, I begin saying things like “It’s so nice here under the starts – I think I’ll sleep out here.” In Budde-speak, that means “I’m going to hurl any minute, I have no idea how I’m going to survive this for 5 days, and OMG what have I gotten myself into?” (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl)

THE NEXT DAY

We head into town – and I am NASEOUS, but of course, keep saying things like “I think I’m a little dehydrated – maybe some water.”, Or “I could really use a diet Coke” We walk around – the place somewhat defies description, so I won’t try right here, and end up in Mallory Square for the sunset. One of the street performers with a dog act, who looks like Jimmy Johnson on acid with long scraggly hair takes a “likin” to me and asks if I would move to West Texas with him. He asks where I’m from. I say “Illinois.” “Where in Illinois?” “Joliet” He asks – and I am not making this up – “Are you a guard at the prison?”

Well, I can do nothing else but smash my beer cup into my forehead and walk away.

It takes Sue and Scott at least 20 minutes to stop laughing.

But miraculously, I am no longer nauseous at all, and have no more trouble with (pitch,roll, pitch,roll – don’t hurl,don’t hurl) .

More to come on WRB Junction when I get back home & download some pictures.