To say it’s been a while is an understatement. To say it’s been one hell of a year, well, that surpasses ‘understatement.’ This year has been like no other.
We are still in Marathon, in the Florida Keys, and still in our slip at Marathon Marina. Like everyone, our plans were changed as were our lives. Our plan had been to leave Marathon in the spring of this year, and sail north, spending time in Georgia before heading north to New England for the summer months. Next, around this time of year, we were to sail south again and ready ourselves for another trip north, this time to Canada. After spending most of summer cruising the Canadian Maritimes (Nova Scotia, Newfoundland) we were planning to cross the north Atlantic to England. Our European sailing adventures awaited.
Then came the pandemic. The Novel Corona Virus. COVID-19. And life changed.
As shutdowns and stay-at-home orders became prevalent, the same was happening here, with quite devastating results. The economy of the Florida Keys is tourism driven and quite suddenly, tourists had vanished – literally. The results were not hard to miss. But Keys folk are resilient and soon, servers, bartenders, etc., were pulling shifts at the local Publix and Winn-Dixie grocery stores, at Home Depot, and at other essential businesses which remained open. Many restaurants also maintained a decent carry-out business. Though different, it seemed things would be OK in the Keys.
There is one road in and out. The only other ways to get to the islands are by boat and by airplane. At the start of April, the Florida Keys were officially closed to everyone except residents, property owners, and workers traveling to and from the Keys from the mainland. Overnight, and in the downhill slide of the peak tourist visiting season, the Keys grew quiet. Surprisingly enough, we soon came to realize that by being where we happened to be – in a tropical, island environment – we had something of an advantage when it came to enduring a global pandemic. In the Keys, the climate is sunny and breezy, and a great many businesses, especially restaurants and bars, are mostly if not completely open-air.
At times, it seemd we had the place to ourselves…
Still, the Keys faced many of the issues as the rest of the country, and in some respects, the world. No toilet paper, paper towels, or hand sanitizer could be had for several weeks, even a couple of months. For a brief period, chicken was tough to find, as were eggs and yogurt.
Was it worth it? It’s tough to say. For us, it’s a resounding ‘yes.’ While there was a tremendous economic cost, and in truth, some people and businesses have never fully recovered, COVID cases and infections in the Keys remained remarkably low – well under a total of 500 in a population of over 70,000 by the start of summer, with around five or so fatalities. When the Keys ‘reopened’ on June 1, cases predictably surged and numbered well over 1,000 by mid-July. Thus far, we are and have been fine. Mask wearing is required anytime there is a roof over your head and physical distancing is not possible; medical facilities are well prepared; and people, at least most, are being courteous and considerate.
Lisa and I have not left the islands this year, except for once when I had to go to Ft. Lauderdale for a job. The summer has been hot and dry, unusual, as summer here is generally the rainy season, as well as hurricane season. We’ve had two near misses with tropical storms, Laura and Sally, both of which went on to make landfalls in the same area of the central Gulf of Mexico coast in Louisiana. Now, we’re wrapping up the summer, and the rainy season, although we seem to have gotten the entire rainy season in the single month of October, with nearly 10” of rain in just a two - three week stretch of time. We did haul Jo Beth from the water ahead of Tropical Storm Laura, as it indeed appeared to be a threat. Fortunately, it was (for us) only a rainmaker. While Jo Beth was hauled out, we repainted the bottom with marine antifouling paint and took care of a few other jobs over a week’s period of time.
While Jo Beth was out of the water, we couldn’t stay on board. St. Columba Episcopal Church, where Lisa attends and volunteers, offered a small house on church property for us to stay in. The house has been converted to an after-school care and daycare facility, and proved to be quite a surreal experience. We slept on a borrowed air mattress, and there was a dining room table with a couple of chairs. Otherwise, everything was kid sized; the refrigerator was chock full of apple juice boxes and chocolate milk, and the cupboards with animal and graham crackers. We did have a full size kitchen, and an endless number of board-games and puzzles to keep us occupied.
Otherwise, there simply isn’t much to report. We had hoped to use the quiet months to get some local cruising in, but life had other plans. While we both stayed healthy, Lisa injured her foot, re-breaking an old fracture from her college days, so that quashed any sailing plans. And the summer was brutally hot. My work remained steady, and just as Lisa’s foot was healed enough to go sailing, the tropical weather beset us and my workload went from zero to a hundred in a matter of days. All in all, and with consideration given to everything, it was a remarkably quiet summer.
We’ll be here until next spring, when we plan to sail north. Once the 2020 hurricane season is in the books, we’ll get some local cruising done, and start making videos and doing photography. We’ll also get our website fully up and running, and make blog posts on a much more frequent basis…exciting stuff is on the way!
Stay tuned, and thanks for sticking with us!