January 11 We were packed by 8:00 a.m. I remembered that the restaurant opened at 8 and easily persuaded the first mate to delay our departure until we had eaten breakfast.  Pancakes and bacon fueled another long day on the water.  We headed out past Cudjoe Bay and around the end of Newport Harbor Keys where we passed within the swimming limits of a very fancy private island resort.  Impeccably kept docks and thatched roof houses surrounded by palms surrounded the small island.  As we passed, a very fancy yacht pulled in with some guests.  A small platform with two reclining chairs under a thatched roof  was a 100 ft shallow wade off the shore. I watched this grow tiny as I rowed along the shore headed toward the morning sun on perfectly flat water with my puddles approaching a vanishing point behind. I had also left the veering to port behind with about 50 pounds of our dunnage! My strokes were at half power but I had found a sustainable pace.  We passed the end of Big Pine Key at about 1:30.  I had hoped to get that far by night fall.  Spanish Harbor Key tempted me further so we continued across and stopped by a family with children fishing from a dock by some rocks.  The father suggested we could camp there. It was a scout camp but no one was there.  The landing looked quite difficult and rocky.  Bahia Honda Key and the State Park there was only another 3 miles.  We had heard wonderful things about it.  “Lets do it.” was the decision.

So on we went and along at the other end of a long causeway we entered Bahia Honda Marina’s channel with a sign saying “Watch out for manatees.” We saw none.  Tired by now and blisters hurting badly I landed on the boat ramp and left Heather to guard the boat while I went to find the office.  This took walking ¾ mile to a gate house near the highway.  Here I met the least friendly person I have met so far in Florida.  The Park Warden sitting at his desk behind glass in full uniform listened to my story and couldn’t wait to say no.  I think he must have been related to the lady at the Key Largo visitor center.  I have always had some contempt for low level bureaucrats who seem to thrive, or as people say these days, get off, on the power they have to frustrate ordinary decent citizens in need. There was lots of room everywhere I looked for a harmless couple, rowing a classic and gentle boat, benefiting a great cause, to pull out of the water and camp without trace.  NO!

We rowed on to the next key about 2 miles further  and pulled into the marina of the Sunshine Key Fun Resort and Marina.  I walked to the office again as Heather watched the boat on the ramp.  They had a space on the other end of the island (1/2 mile) that was perfect.  So at 6:00 p.m. my again ravaged body hauled us up on the beach through deep piles of rotting seaweed to a lawn next to campsite 400.  There we pitched the tent and piled the reduced dunnage.  Hunger had set in as the dominant need and we hiked the several hundred yards to the large campground’s convenience store and bought Lean Cuisine chicken dinners that we stuck in their microwave before paying for them.  I wondered what my grandson Graham would have thought of us. A week ago he had showed me with great pride the 3 oz. camp stove he had acquired for his ultra light camping equipment collection.  To complement the Lean Cuisine we bought a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. We took both to a bench near the campground’s basket ball court and sat to share a fine dinner out under the stars.  Life was good.  The dominant need changed to getting clean before crawling into my nice new sleeping bag.  I mustered enough energy to get to the bath house, take my shower and return. Heather was catching up with phone calls on her new cell phone with unlimited long distance minutes on weekends.  I counted my 16 cleaned up blisters and decided they would heal better without more Band-Aids. But they stung and it looked doubtful I could subject them to another day without some time to heal.