January 9 We decided with great reluctance on Heather’s part that her rowing was not going to be possible.  We managed to partially disassemble her RoWing and pack it in the boat with her oars along side, pile the dunnage  on top of it, seat her in the stern where I could see her and she could see where we were going. Note: Microsoft Word’s dictionary does not recognize this favorite word of mine, dunnage. If you don’t either then interpret it as tonnage! That is what spell check tells me to do and it pretty well describes the weight of the stuff I am referring to.  This proved to work just fine.

We left Murray Marine at 7:00 a.m. and headed toward the bridge that crosses the channel connecting the Gulf and the Atlantic.  Crossing under the bridge we entered into a vast uninhabited environment of shallow water dotted with shapeless Mangrove islands all looking much the same from our eye level. We followed an overhead power line for a mile or so until it turned back toward the highway.  I used it to steer the next several miles until it dropped from view on the horizon.  Trying to identify our location on a chart that seemed to have no resemblance to what we could see, we continued through channel after channel across shallow flats in what we felt was the direction we needed to go. There was no human company here. Just the thousands of birds and occasional fish and many sponges in the shallow water shared our delight.

The blisters on my right hand resulting from pulling harder on my port oar to correct our swerving course were starting to get sore. I stopped many times to apply Band-Aids, drink water and eat the snacks Heather passed me from her seat in the stern.  Hours of quiet, blissful rhythmic strokes went by interrupted by these rests. Heather enjoyed the marvelous binoculars our children gave us for Christmas. No other binoculars I have ever used have worked as well. At 4:00 we started looking for places to stop.  We thought we might be approaching Kemp channel between Cudjoe and Summerland keys.  After  another hour and a half rowing we came upon a fellow washing his trimaran at the first dock we came to coming down the channel toward a bridge.  He told us there was a KOA campground just beyond the bridge. 

At last after much too long a day for the second day on the water we arrived at the Sugarloaf Key KOA at mile marker 20 on the overseas highway.  We had come 20 miles along the highway from where we started yesterday.  We had rowed at least 30. KOA redeemed the reputation I had given the name years ago when we had camped at one in Arkansas on our way to San Diego in our VW Bus. My memory recalls packing all of us in the car at 2:00 a.m. on a buggy, hot night when loud music was still playing and honking my horn in rage as I accelerated away from a filthy, noisy and crowded place where the children found feces floating in the pool and we had to clean them thoroughly.

The Sugarloaf Key KOA was crowded but friendly and gave us a spot right near the boat ramp where we could put our tent and pile our dunnage. We went to their restaurant where I was so tired I had no hunger left.  After dinner and a shower I hit the nice pad Heather had made for me in the tent and fell asleep to a lady calling out the numbers for a Bingo game going on across the road.  “B-12, We have a Bingo here!”  Nothing could have kept me awake.  I awoke 11 hours later.  Why did I spend  $1400. for a sleep study?  I know how to get to sleep now. You have to earn it the old fashioned way: row hard!