I awoke Saturday morning with a fuzzy notion of what had happened the night before. I say this mostly because I was still in awe of where exactly I was, but it also had something to do with the rum. Friday night we had cleaned up and grabbed a cab to Duval St. for the boat parade. No...the boats were not actually parading, all of the race teams had them lined up and the street was closed off for blocks with thousands of people craning necks at scantily clad women dancing on boats, gawking at monster pieces of fiberglass, and catching beads raining down from above. We met up with some of our oldest boating friends from Chicago, Jimmy and Ginny Vos and their friends, people that were there at the very beginning of our boating lifestyle, which put a very nice perspective on our dream trip. It helped that they are really fun people, and that they had been making this trip for over 20 years! Within minutes of them leaving, we hooked up with ANOTHER pair we'd become friends with over the years, Bob and Heidi Mathers from Boyne City, Michigan. We had a couple cocktails with them and wandered the streets a bit, and when they called it a night, we ended up right back with the Chicago folks again. Its a strange small world, this offshore boating community...and full of some of the nicest people I've ever met. We finished off the night by checking out the Poker Run village around the Galleon, where many of the big dogs were parked. I have seen a lot of horsepower before, but NOTHING has compared to this. Millions of dollars in fiberglass, carbon fiber, and gleaming metal glowing with LED accents...it was breathtaking.
Anyway, Michelle was still enjoying the comforts of our luxury accommodations, so I did my usual morning-on-the-boat activity...I quick-waxed everything above the rubrail (I had sent down a bottle of wax and some towels the week before!). When I finished, I took a walk around our marina to check out our neighbors. On my finger pier, we had the aforementioned MTI and Outerlimits, along with a 45 Sonic, a 37 Hustler Talon, a 34 Hustler Cheetah, a 38 Cigarette Flatdeck, and a 28 Skater...with twin 300 hp outboards. One pier over, there was a Statement! V, a 39 Cigarette Top Gun Unlimited, two 38 Cigarette Top Guns, a 41 Apache catamaran, and a 52 Outerlimits. These are boats that have paint jobs that cost more than my first boat. It was like a tiny slice of Mike heaven. We also had the fortunate position of being in the marina with the best launch ramp, so Michelle's wake-up call on Saturday morning was the sound of Bill Pyburn's 190 mph Skater "Pure Platinum" roaring to life.
Our crew was a little late getting rolling on Saturday, as a reservation snafu wound up with them staying on Sunset Key, so they were at the mercy of the ferry over to Cayo Hueso. Plus, it was cloudy and windy, so we were hesitant to embark upon the day's journey over to Boca Grande, an deserted strip of sandy beach about 15 miles away. Eventually, the sun came out, our crew arrived, and we were off, tailing a 42 Cigarette and being tailed by a helicopter taking pics and video of us. By the time we got there, all of the protected spots on the beach were taken. We attempted to beach the boat, but the waves kept us bouncing off the bottom, so Pat pulled the plug and Mike and I jumped in the water to drag the boat off to deeper water. While we were engaged in this activity, there was a shout from onboard the boat, directing our attention to a large, shadowy figure swimming out way....or should I say MY way. Now...I am paranoid of all ocean creatures...I have seen Jaws and I know what's down there and what they can do... I saw the figure and immediately recognised it as a stingray, and despite the fact that everyone says they are gentle creatures and wouldn't harm you, I can assure you that having one swimming towards you when you are waist deep is disconcerting. I maintained my composure, and forced myself to fight my instinct of launching out of the water and into the boat...you know...for the sake of my dignity and all that. We do not have such things in Lake Michigan. Pat had procured a couple pounds of stone crab, and his friends in the Cigarette had steaks...our intention was a nice barbecue on the beach. Mother Nature had other plans, however, and the constant wind and waves prevented our anchors from taking hold, and after about an hour of indecision, we finally gave up and headed back, disappointed....and very hungry. We broke out the stone crab back at the marina, with the Florida natives firing the stuff down like it was candy. I tasted some, but my menial penchant for trying new foods took over, and I had some Doritoes and beer to sate my hunger. I cleaned the boat again as well. After a while, the crew took off back to Sunset Key, and Michelle and I cleaned up for the Poker Run dinner....and broke out the rum.
We took a cab over to Duval Street, and made our way over to the Conch Republic, where, upon entering we found that the video playing on the huge outdoor screen was of US. Way cool! We finally got our Poker Run swag....a nice duffel bag, shirts, hats, and a bunch of beer coozies, and drew our cards...a pair of 5s...typical. We left the bag in a safe place, and rolled into dinner, quickly finding out that we knew NOBODY there. So, we had a couple drinks and ate our food...and the worst thing EVER began to happen: we got tired. This was SATURDAY NIGHT AT KEY WEST...we had to rally! We walked a couple laps around the area, and finally settled in to a spot at the bar and ordered up a couple rum'n'cokes. And just like that, right when the night was about to go south...the people next to us struck up a conversation. Boom. We were back in the game. I've said it a million times....I am amazed at how nice the people in the offshore boating community are in general. We talked to these people for twenty minutes and they invited us over to their house on the Gulf Coast in the spring! Crazy! In the meantime, our Chicago friend Trent had shown up and sent a couple shots our way....momentum was picking up! After that, a quick trip around the bar found us in the company of Jim Porter and Kirk Jurinek, more Chicago boaters enjoying their annual pilgrimage to Key West. We ended up sticking with them and moving on to Hogsbreath Saloon (which makes a MEAN Sailor Jerry and Coke...you have to SIP them!). Kirk then decided that we, as Key West newbies, really needed to experience exactly what the place was all about, We were whisked away in a cab... and deposited back at the marina by another cab at 3:30 am. The interim period represented by ellipses in that sentence is best left to the reader's imagination...but it was awesome.
Sunday morning, I was up at 7:30 am...and I felt GREAT. Now, I generally have the ability to drink a LOT in an evening and function well on very little sleep...the hangover hits a couple hours into the day. Not this time. I was a little shaky, and pounded a bunch of Gatorade and a breakfast burrito to be on the safe side, but I suffered no ill effects. I credit drinking good rum. Michelle was running a little rough when she was finally roused out of bed by the Turbine Express boat, Pure Platinum and Jim Lee's 46 Skater "Freedom US 1" rolling to the launch ramp. By repeating the mantra, "I will NOT lose this day" many, many times, she was able to get herself going...I was impressed with her mental fortitude. Plus, she wanted to take the boat out to watch the races. We fired up the engines and embarked upon our first solo journey, carefully following the navigational markers out of the marina and into the bay...right on to the race course itself. We had heard that they close the entrance to our marina during the races, and knew we had just over an hour before that happened, so we decided to go for a little blast. Only...I didn't know WHERE to go! I followed the route we had used when we came into Key West, only to find 4 foot rollers out past the end of the island. Not wishing to beat ourselves or the boat, I turned back around and ran past the gathering crowds of Mallory Square. We were then pretty much out of "known" real estate...with shallow spots and shoals lurking everywhere and a nervous captain at the helm...not very fun. The wind was still blowing pretty good, so I doubted our anchor would hold should we decide to watch the races out there. Plan B would be to ask a larger cruiser if we could just toss them a line and swing off their anchor...but I was feeling a bit shy and didn't want to impose on anyone...so we literally idled up and down the spectator fleet four times! We passed one cruiser twice, and both times, a woman on board waved at us happily...so I figured...that is the person I will ask to tie to. So I did. She answered, but neither Michelle nor I could understand a WORD of what she said...she was clearing hitting the sauce early! I gave up and headed back to the marina, figuring it'd be less stressful to watch from land, anyway. I snuck the boat between the MTI, a Cigarette, and a concrete pole for my first docking success...and I was happy.
We rented bikes across the street from our marina, and pedaled down to Mallory Square, catching the middle of the second race from a small beach before moving on to the main seawall for the conclusion and interim period before the final race. We stood in the crowd that grew to 5 deep as the Superboat Unlimited class hit the water, and enjoyed the thrill of watching and hearing them thunder past 50 feet away at speeds approaching 150 mph. There is NOTHING like it...it gives you goosebumps. After the first couple laps, we decided to move to another vantage point, and jumped on the bikes again, heading over to Ft. Zachary Taylor at the end of the island. The water was much rougher over there, as it had been in the morning, so our view from atop the fort was pretty thrilling, as we watched the boats getting some serious air and then mashing the throttles down for the front stretch. Pretty cool, I must say. The bicycles proved to be a most excellent decision, as the traffic jam leaving the fort and beach area after the race was quite large...and we just pedaled right by. We had called our Chicago friends to see if they wanted to come and check out the new boat, and by the time we had ridden back to the marina and gotten an ice cream cone, they were stepping out of a cab with a bottle of champagne to toast the new ride. We took them out for a sunset ride, and it was not lost upon me how awesome it was to be enjoying the company of these people who had been so instrumental in the foundation of my boating life so many years ago. Another dream come true.
We finished off the day with another bike ride down to Duval Street, and a nice dinner by ourselves, reminiscing about the events that had led to this trip, and also lamenting the fact that we had to go home tomorrow.
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