Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers by Bob Kranich
The Cayman Turtle Schooner, (Part 9, Excerpt 74)
This is a story, titled The Cayman Turtle Schooner. This story will tell about the forming and history of the Cayman Islands, the green sea turtle’s habits and life style, the building of a dugout canoe, and then a schooner, and lastly about the historic two-masted turtle schooner, A. M. Adams. A storm is just about to hit their island.
The Cayman Turtle Schooner
The wind was blowing in strong gusts. It felt like it would start raining. Then they saw a lightning flash far off over the island to the southeast. It was getting dark. Grandpa was fighting to keep the canoe on course. The sail was bellowing out. It was a good thing they had an outrigger to keep them from tipping.
“We’ll go right past our place and run into the lagoon!”
They turned and headed for the lagoon. The waves and water were up so high that they didn’t even have to worry about finding the channel. They literally flew right in with the waves and tide.
“Drop sail, Parker, and grab your paddle. We'll go to the back on our side of the lagoon. Head for that near tree. We’ll go up into the mangroves and tie up to them.”
They jumped out.
“Let’s go to the house!” Grandpa said, clutching the coffee and the sugar. “Run, Parker!”
As they ran towards the house the rain let loose with pelting torrents. They could hear the waves crashing on the beach.
Grandma was at the door. “I’ve put some things in the main stone part of the house, Hon. I’ve got a bag of food, a pot, and a jug of water ready, also a sack with some blankets.”
“Good. Thank you! Here’s some coffee and sugar. Secure and water-tight it. Wait for a minute, while Parker and I tie things down in the shed.”
Grandpa and Parker ran out to the shop. They threw the loose tools in a heavy metal chest. Back they ran to the house. The palm trees on the beach were bending and swaying with the wind gusts. Rain was pelting the metal roof of the house.
They ate some food Grandma had prepared. “I think it’s a small cyclone. If we survive to the lull we need to get to high ground. Parker and I have a cave about fifty feet above sea level half way up the bluff. When this wind changes and blows from the sea towards us, we’ll have a surge!”
Suddenly it became quiet. The rain stopped. “Now let’s go! We'll take the kerosene lantern. No running. Grandma behind me, and Parker stay close. Each of us gets a bag.”
Out the back of the house they went. It was pitch black, except for the yellow of the lantern. Down the trail, past the marsh, past the place where Parker met the crocodile, and then up the trail.
“Here it is. Parker, help me move these branches, rocks, and dirt.”
Just then the wind and rain started back up. Then all three crawled in.
Grandma said, “You always said you were going to take me to a fancy lodging some day. You sure know all the real fine places, Grandpa.”
They put their things out, spread the blankets, and turned out the lantern. Inside it was a little cool but dry.
Sebastian noticed there was a lot of movement of the water. When he came up to breathe the waves would throw him around the crawl. Sometimes they would throw him into the beach posts of the crawl. He also noticed it was raining. Shucks, rain didn't bother him, but he didn't like the up and down and being knocked about.
He held his breath and swam down to the bottom. It was only four feet deep, but with the tide and wind he now had water at times almost over the crawl posts. One of the times he was on top he saw a dark shape with a white flapping object shoot by. He had never seen it before but in the front was that human who had brought him sea grass. He couldn’t see it any more because it had gone to the rear of the lagoon.
He noticed the waves were becoming more violent and bigger as the time wore on. He came up for air and a tremendous wave raised him high up. It then came crashing down on the mangroves and trees at the edge of the lagoon. As fast as the first wave started to return to the lagoon a much bigger wave sent Sebastian high up and then sucked him up over the crawl posts and into the center of the lagoon. Sebastian immediately exhaled and did a rapid inhalation. He dived down, and down, paddling hard with all four of his flippers.
He then shot back up, blew out and in, and again down he went. Then he realized, “I’m free!”
He headed straight out to sea. He would dive, stay under as he paddled and come up one to three seconds and dive again. He kept this up. This is exactly what he would have done a couple of years before when he was just a hatchling and running to the sea but now he was two feet long and about seventy pounds.
He was swimming at his maximum, about one and one half to two miles per hour. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but he knew where he was. Turtles navigate by wave direction, sunlight, and temperature. They have an internal magnetic compass. They have a magnetic crystal in their brain which can sense the earth’s magnetic field. Sebastian kept paddling and paddling.
They awoke to a bit of light shining in through the small entrance they had crawled in. Grandpa sat up, reached over, and used a valuable match to light the lantern. A black sooty flame cast shadows inside the cave. Grandpa adjusted the wick, and the flame cleaned itself.
The flickering light shined on a sitting-up Parker rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, yawning, and stretching.
Grandpa started to rise, “Hold it right there, Grandpa! Eat a little bite first,” as she reached in her bag, I know if you two get started, you’ll never stop to eat some energy! Here, it’s cold but it will help.”
“Thank you dear. Here, Parker. You heard your Grandma.”
“Yes, Ma’m, Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“I’m going to take a look outside to see if it’s safe. Parker, stay with Grandma a minute till I’m back.”
“Oh...Grandpa,” Parker complained.
Grandpa crawled out. There were sudden gusts of occasional wind carrying some pelting rain. It was light but many dark clouds were moving about. He could see some downed trees, but no water-surge damage. Basically they had been high and dry.
He put his head back up to the cave entrance, “Hand me out the bags as you get them packed.”
Grandma and Parker came out. They loaded up and started down the trail back towards the house. Along the way they had to climb over some downed trees that had fallen across the trail.
“Well we’re blessed, thank the Good Lord,” Grandpa said as their home came into view, “We’re all three in good shape. But the shed is damaged, and the front room of the house has some problems. It looks like it is from wind and rain. See where the water came up over the dune down by the beach. It knocked over these trees and came up to our front but not inside.”
“Grandma said, “ You’ll be able to fix it?”
“Yes, Dear, I made it, and I can do it again! Parker, help me clear this mess so Grandma can get in her kitchen. I see the front room has missing siding and roof panels and water damage. But look, the kitchen and the rest of the house is ok! We’re going out to the shed and get some tools. Come on, Parker”
A lot of the shed roof panels had been blown off, and it was leaning precariously. Grandpa looked in, “It looks bad but it won’t fall. I’m going in and drag out the metal box of tools. Stay here, Parker.”
“There, that wasn’t too bad.” He opened the box and took out hammers, nails, a crow bar, and a saw. “We’ll use the shed roof tin to repair the house roof, and the shed boards to fix the sides of the house.”
“Parker, now that we’ve got the house in shape and our shed is half what it was, it’s time to go looking for our dugout canoe.”
From the Author:
My second full-length book , Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers is composed of 336 pages. There are 12 stories running from 6 pages to as many as 72 pages. It is fully illustrated with 88 watercolors and sketches. The watercolors I made roaming around Key West after I finished my 750 mile hike from Georgia to Key West. (See book or Don Browne’s SouthWest Florida Online News records, A Walk Across Florida.) As you read these stories you will experience Key West, the Keys, and the Caribbean. These stories span the time of the early 1800’s to 1969. bkranich.wixsite.com/bobkranich
