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In the middle of April Islamorada in the Florida Keys was experiencing a cold spell—70 degrees. Residents accepted this as a fierce slap in the face from Mother Nature. In January the average temperature is 74 degrees. Miserably accepting the cold as a personal punishment, they sulked through the streets huddled up in jackets and hats as they passed beneath the shade of the palm trees and shivered under the blazing sun at nearby picnic tables.
I sat at the end of a full service oceanside cabaña with a frozen Key Lime Colada in my hand watching the boats troll on the streaks of sunlight glistening off the emerald green of the ocean. I couldn’t remember the last time I wore a strapless dress. I felt exposed as the warm breeze swept up the barstool and between my legs. After five years of living in Anchorage, Alaska this was summer weather at its best. In fact, this cold spell was warmer than my warmest summer day in 2012.
My home for most of April was the Upper Matecumbe Key, one of over 1,700 islands formed on a coral reef resting off the furthest tip of Florida. The string of
islands divides the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean and is connected by a single road and series of bridges. Our key was at mile marker 95 of the 127-mile highway. My initial drive in was on a gloomy day. Rather than being awestruck by the deep blues and jades of the ocean that have seduced me in postcards and on travel channels, glaring sea foam green traffic barriers saw me over the first few islands. Murky water lay past these unsettling concrete barricades.
In Islamorada, several travelers compared the keys to Homer, Alaska: One road, with all of the tourist gift shops, local dive bars, and fishing supply stores you can squeeze between the boardwalks. Even the lingo on the cozies and bumper stickers was the same: “A quaint drinking village with a fishing problem.”
On land residents and tourists alike can do typical activities such as eat at local places, lie out on private beaches, shop for overpriced sandals at an “outlet,” or drink at the multiple bars offering a plethora of tropical beverages including frozen Key Lime Coladas complete with a graham cracker crusted rim. But the real life of the keys takes place
Star
Acro Yoga at Postcard Inn Beachoffshore. Growing up on the coast of Northern California, I love everything about the ocean. My goal was to experience as much as possible out on the water.
Paddle Boarding On one particularly beautiful day, Jhene and I decided to go paddle boarding. This is a rather new sport on the islands. My theory is that some washed-up surfer dude was forced to move from the west coast to the east coast. Whether uninformed about the waveless shores or out of spite, he brought down a long board. Disappointingly this board was put to use in the only way possible. With no swells to lift the rider, he simply stood on the board. Refusing
to be reduced to the stance of a bodysurfer paddling with his hands alone, another means was needed for projecting forward. So, he confiscated a paddle from a beached canoe, altered it in length, and thus created the sport now known as paddle boarding.
With a little bit of core, balance and arm strength, paddle boarding is quite simple. Jhene and I took the boards we rented from Mile Marker 88 on the bayside and cruised north along the shore. We
passed by privately owned mansions and vacation houses, fully equipped backyards, fenced pools and boat-stocked docks. Being above the water was a new experience for me. I am used to canoes where you are right down in the water, but here I could see the fish, dip my feet in, turn around, and jump in and out of the water with ease.
The water was still and clear all the way to the floor, which was unusual for the time of year. It was covered with coral and shells. The sun beat down on our exposed bodies and homed in on our Alaska-acclimated skin. As a caravan through a dessert, we traveled through the open and lonely ripples. We passed through canals, and waved at the occasional sunbather on shore. After a while we pulled into a cove and jumped in for a dip.
The highlight of this trip was a visit from a manatee (or sea cow). He peaked his nostrils above the surface for air and then casually went back to lounging on the floor. We didn’t seem to bother him as he resurfaced multiple times until we paddled away.
Bike Tour and Kayaking
Determined to beat the heat, we woke up early one Wednesday and headed down to A1A Bike Rentals. It was right at 9:00 AM and the hostess, Ally, was just beginning to move the street cruisers onto the gravel drive as we came in. She wore a colorfully layered outfit and had tidy long blond dreads. She greeted us with a kind smile, but she was clearly not a morning person. The sight of us did not quicken her process as she meandered routinely and methodically through the crowded shop. She either desperately needed coffee of was waiting for it to kick in.
“Most people like to take the Old Road. There is less traffic,” she began as if expected to be our unpaid tour guide. “Or if you want you can ride one island north and go to the Postcard Inn. It’s a private beach but no one has had any trouble from what I've heard.”
Most bike renters must not venture more than a mile or two, I thought.
“We are actually planning to ride down to the Old Tavernier Restaurant and Bar for lunch and then on to the tiki bars for
Cabana Boy
Mike indulging us with the gift we brought him! a few drinks,” Jhene said, making it clear that we planned to cover some ground during our day tip, not just take an innocent meander close by. The bar alone was seven miles down the road and she was eager to get going so that we could get
our first cup of coffee.
Ally paused what she was doing and turned to us. “That is quite far,” she said smiling briefly as if she knew a secret we didn’t.
“Oh, we are avid bikers,” Jhene reassured her. “We have done multiple bike tours in Alaska.”
Ally continued to adjusting a flower covered basket to a bike seemingly unimpressed. After the bikes were out, we picked our favorites. With a credit card on file, we each paid $10 for the day and Ally gave us locks for the bikes. She sent us on our
way and we promise to return the bikes by 5:00 PM when she closed.
Our first stop was coffee and breakfast. Nothing appeared to be open in the first mile. As we began to ascend the bridge to the Windley Key we spotted the Island Grill hiding at the end of a side
street. We jumped the rail with our bikes and went down the steep slope on foot. We were feeling the cool morning creep slowly into a blistering day. Inside the Grill the shade was cool and the breeze swept in off the ocean through large open sliding-glass windows. We sat at a bar table overlooking the water. The bar was constructed on the dock itself and tucked away in a small, private inlet. We enjoyed a home-style breakfast washed down with multiple cups of coffee.
During breakfast, the day officially started without us. At our bikes just outside the shade of the Grill, the sun was beating down. It was hot. Desperately hot. We were prepared for this with bike baskets full of water, SPF 70, snacks, a cooler of drinks, swimsuits, and a spray bottle full of water.
We rode on the Old Road for shade when available. We took breaks and sprayed down with water so that the breeze would cool off our skin and keep us from melting into one with the pavement. We made it to the Old Tavernier quicker than expected and still full from breakfast. We decided to continue on to the
tiki bars and come back for lunch.
After what seemed to be miles of no shade along the main road, we came to an abrupt end to the median outside of the Unique Marina.
“This does not look like a tiki bar,” I said.
“They are further down,” Jhene said.
She sought advice from Google Maps. Our journey had already taken us over 11 miles and the tiki bars were still an additional six miles ahead with no connecting route.
By car we remembered them being much closer. We had no choice but to turn around.
We were headed back for pizza and beer at the Old Tavernier, which was only three miles back. To our dismay, it did not open until dinner. It was only 1:00 PM and we had bikes to return by 5:00.
New Mission. Find the closest bar.
After a spray down of both sunscreen and water we continued back. Even after a spray down every few minutes, I was melting away. We had only made it a mile and a half down the road when a mirage appeared in the distance.
“Let’s go here,” Jhene said
interrupting my thoughts of desperation. It was no mirage; it was Boardwalk Pizza.
The dehydration kicked in and took full control. Before I knew it I had ordered a pitcher of beer. We collapsed under the shade of the umbrella above an outdoor table. After a few sips, the beer flooded through my veins and returned me to my human state.
Sipping away, I notice a man moving hesitantly in my peripheral vision. He was a smaller man, not too skinny or stocky under the cutoff shirt and khaki cargo shorts. He skirted by and evaluated each table around us very slowly. As he came around to the table in front of us I saw the bandanna.
“Mike!” I said getting his attention.
He turned around.
“Oh, hey you guys,” he said with little thrill in his voice.
“Come sit with us,” I offered. Every time I encountered Mike he was on his own.
“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt you. I didn’t know you would be here.”
I laughed, “You will not be interrupting at all, we are just about to have some lunch.”
“Oh, ok then.” He came over
and and pulled a chair under our umbrella. It was just now happy hour, which meant with our next pitcher purchase we would get a free medium pizza. With three of us, this was a much more realistic venture.
Jhene filled him in on our bike tour.
“Our next mission is to find a beach so we can cool off in the water.” I said. I saw that he too was on his bike. “Want to come to the Postcard Inn with us?”
“Well, I actually just live around the corner on the bayside,” he said raising his eyebrows, his shorts almost leaving his seat. “You should come over and hang out and swim off my dock!”
Jhene and I accepted the invitation and after lunch we rode over to his house only a few streets away. In his house he showed us figurines and lamps he had made out of old parts and findings. And before we headed out to the back, he poured us some iced guava juice. The dock had two reclining chairs, a picnic table and 12 feet of water to dive into. We spent the rest of the day diving off
Jhene, Me, Mike at Boardwalk Pizza
Life is good after a pitcher of beer! Especially after 16 miles in 80 degrees... the dock and lying out in the sun.
As the sun was setting I thought, “This is the life.” But my thoughts were interrupted…
“Didn’t we have to return the bikes by 5:00 PM?” Jhene asked.
“Ooops.” I said with a smile as I looked over at her. “I forgot about that part. Too late now.”
Neither of us moved.
Around 8:00 PM, Mike lent us his flashlight and we biked the five miles back in the dark. We dropped off our cruisers at A1A and locked ‘em up, hiding the keys under a flowerpot. The next morning I called Ally and let her know our dilemma and where to find the keys. She was just glad we had fun and returned the bikes.
Kayaking Before heading back to Germany, Julia came up from Key West with Sabrina and stayed with Mike for a few nights (see previous blog on Key West). We all hung out at his dock once again. On top of lying out and swimming we also brought out the kayaks and paddled around. These were a little more difficult to jump in and out of,
Julia and I on the Helm
In front of the helm on the way to Alligator Reef Lighthouse but we managed! Mike had made a joke about being our personal cabaña boy the previous time, so I brought him a little outfit as a gift (See Photo).
Boating and Snorkeling While in town Julia and I were invited to coffee with another local, Jere, whom she had befriended at a bar. It turns out that he lived in the adorable gated community of pastel villas. Eager for the tour I was in. Jere met us at the door. Before we had the chance to engage in a proper greeting he was ushering us in.
“I am sorry.” He said in his normal voice, which was stern and tailed off with a mildly irritated tone. “I was not anticipating visitors so I haven’t really prepared anything.” He was a tall man in his 60’s with silver hair. He had a pleasant face and his eyes lit up when he smiled. In his younger days he was most definitely a ladies man. He scurried around and went on about the rain putting a damper on his plans and offered to take our raincoats before we ever got a word in.
“Thanks for inviting us
Dock Diving
Swimming at Mike's over,” I said as I looked around. The place was spotless. The high ceilings, subtle pastel paint and white window shudders made the place feel warm and summery even in the rain. The dark wood floors spread across the first level as a dinning table set to impress hungry eyes. It looked as I would imagine a model or display unit to be decorated: in a minimalist yet chic fashion and contracted out to Pier 1 Imports.
“I just wish it weren’t raining or we could go out on the boat.” He said his voice a little irritated. Locals do not like rain. It is like the weather has forced them into a timeout and they twiddle their fingers nervously not knowing how to pass the time. “You guys should come over when the weather clears up.”
“That would be great.” Julia said. "It should be nice tomorrow!"
He brought us to the couches and Julia and I sat down. He meandered for a bit moving things here and there and chattering on. Even in the rain he wore a light blue and white Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts and strapped sandals. I got up and offered
to make the coffee; he seemed very preoccupied and it was quite clear that he did not have company very often. After the coffee was made, we all settled onto the couches and visited.
The next day was stunning and Jere called offering to take us out on his boat and go snorkeling at the Alligator Reef Lighthouse three miles offshore. Jhene, Julia and I headed over. He had packed us a cooler of beers, wine and crackers to take out on the water. We walked down to the dock and got the boat ready. Jhene took the co captain seat; Julia and I sat on the bench just in front of it.
The boat gently left the dock. And with a call from Jere to hold on, we took off at full speed. We rose up above the water as the wind slapped hair against my faces. The boat seemed to float on top of the water. The sky was clear with small puffs of dismantling clouds speckled overhead and was a soft light blue resting against the stark greenish-blue water. We sped off past other boaters hanging out at the sand bar and through the ripples
of other vessels.
The lighthouse grew closer and closer, until we were at the base of the black, iron, skeletal construction. The base sunk all the way to the floor of the ocean allowing snorkelers and divers to pass freely beneath and stood about 20 feet above the water. Above the black base, the tower of the lighthouse was white all the way up to the lantern room and held steady by a spider web of white iron bars.
After we anchored, we geared up in snorkels, masks, and flippers. Jere found complete joy in getting to push each of us over the side of the boat. Once in the water we were greeted by thousands of fish slowly gathering and swaying in the ocean. The water was only about 15 feet deep and we could see clear to the bottom without having to go very far below the surface. There were neon fish, stripped fish, a manna ray and schools of barracudas. Random snorkelers came in and out, splashing up a storm, but the fish were not phased. They just strolled along under the lighthouse as though we were harmless fish ourselves. We swam under avoiding the
iron beams, which were covered in sharp coral.
After swallowing enough salt water, we got back on the boat and laid out in the sun on the deck. The motion of the ocean got the better of both Julia and I. After a while, we swam over to the lighthouse to grasp the rusted latter. The solidity allowed our stomachs to settle. As the afternoon faded we headed back for shore. We cleaned up the boat, thanked our host and were off to pack and get ready for the road trip north in the morning.
I am disappointed to say that despite the name, we saw no alligators at the reef.
In the weeks I spent there, I was surprised at the accessibility of the Florida Keys. Before ever visiting, they seemed so far away and as foreign as another country. In reality if you live in the southern part of the U.S., they are just a road trip away. So, just hop in your car, fill up the tank a few times and drive there! Go to the local bar and if you meet someone named Mike or Jere, let them know I sent
you.
You never know what adventures will find you!
Next Stop: The Bahamas.
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Eric
non-member comment
AcroYoga!!!
Yay, you remembered our acro-fun, and you're taking it to the next level - WIN!