mohawk further along

As it happened I was spending a lot of time in and around the city of Key West. Whole chunks of time from 1977 onward. Weeks and months of living, fishing, conch biking, hanging out in bars owned by close friends, getting stung by a scorpion, Pernot puffs, and Cristal back when is was only $50 and none knew what it was yet. The Chart Room, Chez Emile, Port of Call, decades before the first cruise ship ever thought of going there. I used to ride down Duval St on my skateboard with Jay pulling me on his bike. The only people in Sloppy’s were usually a handfull of old timers (drunks if you know). Mel Fisher would show up in the Chart Room and spin tales of gold and fame, not that anyone noticed. At night the whole island is alight with smells of blooms and perfume. A sleepy little town full of guile and intrigue. Too bad the most colorful characters ended up as ashes in the channel between Christmas Tree Island.

 

 

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