Today we circumnavigate Key West, seeing the entire island from just offshore, and end the paddling segment of this adventure.
The impact of humans on this island is immense. Barrier walls have doubled or tripled the size of the island, paving over the shallow "wasteland". Bottomless straight channels connect landings with deeper water farther out, but isolate the underwater populations on the disconnected shallow shelves. Causeways connect the islands, but stop the water flow. Gone are the mangroves, which are the solar collector at the bottom of the entire food chain. But then, the no-seeums are gone too!
Much of the area is military. We seen a constant stream of jets from the Boca Chica Navy base, but nothing from the Sigsbee base. Instead, the Sigsbee base seems largely covered with the RVs of retired veterans. The Coast Guard controls much of the harbor on the far west tip, with their large ships and prominent RESTRICTED AREA signs, but also has an area for veteran RVs.
The closer we get to the point, the heavier the traffic becomes. Sail boats, motor boats, yachts. Fishing boats and lobster boats. Old clipper replicas. Giant cruise ships at the dock. Barges heading into the industrial area. Swarms of jet skis. Fran calls them yellow jackets because they swarm and are annoying. They are surprisingly hazardous for kayakers, apparently unaware they are creating wakes as large as those of boats so rarely slowing down.
We see lots of people. People working on boats, walking on piers, dining at waterfront restaurants, playing at the beach, sunbathing at expensive resorts, and trying out paddle boards. We paddle past the official marker of the Southernmost Point of the US, and watch the hordes queued for photos, quite a contrast to us bobbing along in the water.
Today's paddling is a good recap of the trip. We have some calm seas and calm wind. We also get the full meal deal with 15 mph head wind, 6 foot swells, 2 knot current, and the heavy boat traffic and choppy wakes from the jet skis.
Last night Fran felt the same anticipation she felt the night before we set out. Is this ending? We land at the farthest rocky point at 12:21 PM. We count 700 miles and 70 days, but it has not sunk in yet. We eat our packed lunch at Fort Zachary Taylor Park, engaging in brief conversation of a few curious vacationers, but moving out onto the quiet jetty for some stillness. We then continue to circumnavigation back to our campsite and celebrate with Doritos and beer for dinner.
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