The Marquesa Keys

The Marquesa Keys. The narrow, white sand beaches are made up entirely of shells ground to fine dust. The shallows glitter with crystalline humility, like a thin layer of glass hovering over sea-grass, sponges and schools of tiny fish. Hermit crabs pick through shells methodically, slowly, and with a marked disinterest in time. Birds caw. Pelicans, seabirds of all kinds, birds of prey, swallows, finches; the mangroves teem with bird-song.

I walk slow along the deserted shore, stepping over giant turtle bones bleached and beached like the timbers of ancient galleons. With a big straw hat and long sleeves I'm protected from the glistening sun. It comes down straight like a weighted thread, pressing down on me in mute definition.

The Marquesa Keys are quiet and beautiful. A few boats passed through, anchoring for the night. They were on their way, most likely, to the Dry Tortugas. The water, the beach, the mangroves, even the air is saturated with living things and relics of living things. Nothing in sight condescends to the vulgarly simple, rudimentary shapes of the manmade.

I stayed for three nights, not speaking for the entire time save once when I encountered a pair of older couples onshore.

The sail to the Marquesa Keys took six hours downwind. Newfound familiarity with my autopilot along with a bigger hat and other sun-shunning apparel made the trip easy and stress-free. The boat basically took me there itself with just a hair of subtle suggestion. I ran the motor once: to bite the anchor into grassy ground upon arriving.

Tack, tack, tacking back to Key West

Sailing back was direct upwind into 15-20 knots. It took about ten hours, nearly twice the trip there. While it was more involved than the first passage, it was still surprisingly easy. I was able to lock the tiller in place when hard on the wind, letting the boat trim itself, sloppily albeit, by coming into the wind until the sails luff, then falling off and filling, then going the whole thing again ad infinitum. I had to tack the boat every hour or so, otherwise it sailed itself. I slept quite a bit on the way back, dozing for twenty minutes between looking around to ensure I was still in good water. A shallow water alarm alerted me safely when my tack was growing close to shore.

The trip was great. My newly installed LED interior, exterior and navigation lighting let me stay lit up consistently without worrying about battery drain. I plan on spending a lot more time at the Marquesas, away from the bustle of Key West. A whisker pole, the reefing tackle for the main, and my smaller jib would all be great to have for future trips. Patience, patience, patience.