The Road Ahead ................. (Florida Ride 2013): Electrified .... But Just Barely

May 9, 2013

I went to sleep last night in the air-mixing bliss of a paddle fan twirling high over head. It was dead this morning and the air conditioner was sputtering, trying to come to life but couldn't. None of the lights worked. In short, the electricity in the room was kaput. (Had to shave in the dark.) I mentioned earlier this was an old hotel with modern pricing. It was getting older by the minute but not any cheaper.

It was 90 degrees yesterday and the same is predicted today. I was recently asked if the humidity in "The South" is as bad as they say it is. It's worse. The morning challenge is pulling clothes on over a sweating body, in spite of having just dried off after a shower. Not bad if there's air conditioning but that wasn't happening this morning.

Hall Lights On A Better Day

The hallway lights on the second floor were flickering like those of the Titanic right before it went down. I correctly figured the electrical problem was already known downstairs where the desk lady said with a yawn, "oh yeah .... it happens all the time." When asked "why," she simply said, "because it's an island." I'm still trying to understand that.

"But they're working on it?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," she replied in a tone suggesting I'd asked the day's stupidest question.

"Don't suppose you have coffee?" I asked, looking at my watch and seeing it was already 8 a.m. I was starting to twitch.

"Yeah, but can't tell you how warm it is", she said, nodding toward the vacant lobby and following me there to check my approval or disapproval.

"It'll do," I said, sipping the lukewarm coffee, sweating and staring out the window at the empty town.

The desk lady sat down at a laptop computer surrounded by stacks of papers, apparently returning to the job she had to put on hold to intercept me at the desk. Looks as if she lives here. Probably owns the place. I asked how long she's been in these parts.

"All my life. My grandparents were married on the steps of City Hall in 1922," she said, nodding toward the historic building a block away. I knew the place, having just taken a twilight picture of it last night.

City Hall

She gave an interesting account of life in Everglades City from the snowbird business to hurricanes. She said the locals seldom evacuate for hurricanes. It's not mandatory. Once you leave you can't get back.They learned their lesson during Hurricane Andrew. It was months and months before people were allowed back to check their homes for damage of if they even still existed. As for the snowbirds, they evacuate each year before tax day in April.

I asked about airboat rides. She said there were several vendors on the island, all with the same price. If I wanted to see wildlife, however, I'd be better off taking the cheaper pontoon boat ride at the National Park a couple of miles south of town. The airboat rides are mainly for the thrill and not conducive to picture-taking.

Knowing the Buzzard Restaurant next door didn't open until the afternoon, I asked about a place for breakfast. She pointed to a green-roofed building in the distance.

"Take cash with you," she warned, saying electrical problems may very well hinder their ability to process debit or credit cards.

I ended up in the Subway Sandwich corner of a convenience store. No one at the counter. A bearded guy behind the store-portion-counter on the opposite side hollered the name of the less than enthusiastic waitress in the back room who responded with and aggravated, "WHAT?"

"CUSTOMER!" He hollered back.

In fact I was the only customer. Still, the duty of waiting on me was an apparent aggravation. I remembered the hotel lady describing tax day in April as the end of the tourist season, or at least when all the snowbirds return north. Perhaps my being a residual tourist didn't warrant the same tip-seeking hospitality in place during the season? I placed my order apologetically, ate and left.

I walked across the street to Captain Doug's Airboat Tours, just to check prices and schedules, thinking about a ride later in the day. The "go to lady" was parked behind a desk beyond the gift shop, texting. Or maybe she was playing solitaire on her gadget, for she was older than the "texting generation". She never looked up as I stood in the room waiting to be waited on.

Waiting, I browsed the beads, trinkets and plastic alligators. I spotted some light-weight, mesh-vented, chin-strap hats hanging on the wall and thought I might get one to keep the sun off my ears when riding in boats. They're called "Tilley Hats". Comes with instructions. Never saw hat instructions before. Couldn't see a price tag.

"What's the price on these hats?" I asked across the empty room to the woman who was still "gadgetized". She never looked up. Completely ignored me. Oh well. I checked closer and finally found the price ....... drum roll here ....... $83.50 !!!!!!!!!!! I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity. Suddenly I was okay with my ears frying in the sun and walked on to other observations.

Insert: Curiosity later led me to this link Tilley Hats in an effort to learn how such a price is justified. I'm still not buying the reasoning, much less the hat.

By and by, the seemingly perturbed woman rose from behind the desk, walked over to the hats, found the tag on one and quoted me the price, which of course I already knew. She walked back, sat down, and resumed texting. I followed and stood in front of the desk. I waited. She looked up with a "now whadya want" look on her face.

I asked for details on the airboat rides, in particular when the last one leaves.

"Be here at 4:30 if you wanna ride," she barked.

"Aye, Aye," I thought (imagining myself saluting her), did an "about-face", and marched out, hoping for better treatment at the National Park south of town.

The pontoon boat ride was "okay". The 90 minute meandering in search of sea life didn't produce anything more than a dolphin spotting and various birds. We did see some interesting looking fishermen, their faces wrapped up like burn victims in an apparent attempt to keep the bugs away. I'd seen the same on faces of flaggers at highway construction sites.

There were two guides on the pontoon boat. One manned the helm and the other the narration microphone. They traded back and forth. One announced at the end of the ride they weren't with the National Park service, but private vendors contracted to the park and, therefore, didn't receive the same benefits as National Park employees and greatly depend on "tips". During the disembarkment he took on the look of a panhandler, standing at the end of the gangplank with a tip can in hand, no doubt an act of subtle coercion.

The Stunning Wildlife Mentioned Here Were
Apparently Too Stunned To Come Out Of Hiding

Yes, I Was

Our Boat

Room To Walk Around

Underway

We were told these are Roseate Spoonbills not flamingos,
which, contrary to popular belief, don't exist in Florida.
If you see a flamingo in Florida, said our guide,
it's either in a zoo or it's plastic.