June 22 - December 22, 6 months in the Lower Keys, including most of one full Atlantic Tropical Cyclone season.
"It takes a special person," they said. A boat captain who called himself "an expensive whore" at Louie's Backyard, told us cautionary tales about a fellow who'd come down with over 200K to his name, only to be sent home broke six months later. If the Atlantic Tropical Cyclones don't scare you off, the partying can easily drive you into Chapter 13. Still other born-and-raised Conchs with keen senses of adventure, openly ponder the day they'll leave these simple isles and live a big city life.
Well, half a year into this, some details are emerging: First, we're going to be just fine. We're not particularly scared of Atlantic Tropical Cyclones (although Ike gave me a day-long Zen Moment when I was certain I was about to lose 90% of my possessions, and I was okay with that), and our party budget is anemic by Lower Keys standards. We still think this place is paradise. We've learned enough to fill ten guide books. And besides, there's still so much we haven't done (we still haven't bought our first boat, for cryin out loud, the things that await us beyond the kayak's range are mind-boggling I'm sure). And my six-year-old Nikon isn't even close to shooting its last sunset.
Anyway, writing an extended self-congratulatory piece just wouldn't be right for this. It's enough to say, we'll be here awhile longer, and we'll see you around. I've got a breakfast of Cuban sandwiches from El Mocho, and coffee from Baby's, that I don't wanna miss.
-Chris