Are you like me in that you’ve seen Dead Calm one too many times, and you therefore think that any boat-based disturbance is probably just the work of Billy Zane and his crazy eyes and incredibly white teeth? I figured as much. On that note, I want to tell you all about Rocky.
Joking really, the only thing Rocky has in common with Billy Zane is that he showed up on a boat unannounced. See? Here he is:
So, on a pleasant 40nm sailing day from Marquesa to Garden Key, our home-to-be in the Dry Tortugas, a -bleeping- pigeon lands on board. After an hour or so of having trouble getting out of the breeze on deck (der…), it decided to get comfy on the settee. A rock pigeon, hopelessly lost with no land in sight, and bing bang boom we had ourselves a new roomie with a name. Andy and I have had plenty of little songbirds alight on boats during offshore passages, but they always met their ends shortly afterward due to the stress of their travels. (I still think of Larry (Bird) pitching forward on his little beak into the ramekin of water we set out for him, sniff.) Rocky was bound to live on.
Our arrival in the picturesque anchorage meant the usual tasks of arrival clean up and set up of various activities, and yet even the noisy bustling and carrying on wasn’t cause to scare him off, nor was the lure of land in sight any match for the attachment of Rocky to Chickadee.
Not skittish whatsoever, we were able to read the markings on his leg bands, and learned that he is a Cubano! Estaba muy bueno para practicando mi espanol. Either way, he didn’t say much.
We left him on the galley counter, where I had fed him a bowl of water (he practically flew into my hand when he saw me pull the bottle from the fridge), and went ashore.
The island is incredible in that 95% of its landmass is taken up by the fascinating if historically useless Fort Jefferson. Thankfully for our crew, the other 5% is a variety of beautiful beaches. And two other pigeons, with similar bands on their legs. (We’ve since been told that they are Cuban racing pigeons, trained to fly up to 90miles, for whatever reason one trains a pigeon to do that.)
We swam and lounged, before the kids kayaked and swam some more from the boats.
The resident Goliath groupers (also called a Jewfish, if I’m correct that it’s the same thing) were mistaken for nurse sharks by adults looking down on kids in kayaks, which was moderately freaky, but all in all the kids had their usual crazy time playing.
Cocktail hour, and guess who was still here? This guy:
Still on board, Andy finally picked Rocky up, threw him toward the island, and we cheered as he swooped away… and then back to the bow of our boat. Later in the evening we tried again, only to have him land on our neighbor’s boat. The 8 of us watched in hopeful anticipation and absolute hysterics until the neighbor came up on deck with a dishrag and shooed him off, at which point he came back to.. Chickadee. Finally, when the Ruach II crew left our boat, we handed them dingbat Rocky and they hand delivered him to shore to meet his two new best friends. It stuck! He stayed.
The next morning we went ashore for fort exploration and snorkeling, and who greets us? You guessed it. It was the first time I actually checked my bags for a stowaway at the end of the day.
We toured the fort, snorkeled and made a different beach our home for the day.
V impressed us with her endurance for snorkeling. While she still hasn’t gotten the hang of the snorkel itself, she was perfectly happy with a mask and fins, taking breaks on our horizontal backs when she needed a rest, while still keeping her face in the water.
We saw sting rays, barracuda, beautiful coral and too many colorful reef fish to name. Shortly after, the kids made a coral garden from washed up coral. As the days went on and they added to it, it became quite the display.
Day Three in the Dry Tortugas was a sad one for all of us, as we parted ways with our friends aboard Ruach II. They are heading back to the boatyard via the east coast, while we want to explore the west. They left in the morning, and we stayed on another day and night.
That morning we motored over to explore Loggerhead Key 3nm away, another part of the National Park (along with Garden Key and Fort Jefferson).
Upon dinghying ashore and finding the path through the center of the island, I swear I’m not kidding when I say that Rocky was sitting on the edge of it, staring at us like he was waiting to see us. (His band number confirmed our assumption based on his markings..) The volunteer that lives on the island said he landed there a day ago. Holy smokes, maybe it IS Billy Zane.
Loggerhead is beautiful, crazy pigeon and all.
Back ‘home’ to Garden Key for more fort exploration, a walk around the moat, and more snorkeling. Our days there were repetitive but in the most wonderfully laid back way; it was hard to leave. But then, there’s that ‘Dry’ problem…
