A fishing captain looks at me, his thirty-two foot boat getting thrown about ten miles off shore in giant swells, and asks “What the hell are you doing out here?”
Me in my kayak bobbing around like a piece of Styrofoam, “I was asking myself that same question.” Continue reading Open water: Kayaking to the Bahamas
I landed on the Man o’ War covered Smathers Beach on the south end of Key West at around eleven in the morning. I jumped out of my kayak in front of dozens of tourists trying to tan their wintery white skin. My face was coated with zinc oxide, my eyes sunken in from lack of sleep, my clothes wet and smelly. I sat on the beach in the warm sand for a moment reflecting on what I had just done. I had paddled a kayak the same distance it would be to paddle to The Bahamas. The absurd goal, an unfathomable distance, didn’t seem so crazy anymore. The only difference, no bugs to fend off, no unpredictable currents, just open water and solitude. Continue reading Middle Keys to Key West