CHAPTER
V.
THE GREAT FLORIDA REEF.
THE great Florida Reef, up which our young
canoemates had just started on their adventurous
cruise, is about 230 miles long. It extends from Cape
Florida, on the Atlantic coast, completely around the
southern end of the peninsula, and far out into the
Gulf of Mexico on the west. The island of Key West
lies some 70 miles off the mainland, and about the
same distance from the Dry Tortugas, which group of
little coral islets forms the western extremity of the
reef. Between Key West, on which is a city of the same
name containing nearly 20,000 inhabitants, who live
farther south than any one else in the United States,
and Cape Florida, 150 miles east and north, a
multitude of little keys or islands, covered to the
water's edge with a dense growth of mangroves and
other tropical trees and shrubs, stretch in a
continuous line. Between these keys* and the mainland
lies a vast shallow expanse of water known as the Bay
of Florida. Outside of them is the narrow and
navigable Hawk Channel, running along their entire
length, and bounded on its seaward side by the almost
unbroken wall of the outer reef. This rarely rises
above the surface, and on it the busy coral insects
pursue their ceaseless toil of rock-building. Beyond
the reef, between it and the island of Cuba, eighty
miles away, pours the mighty flood of the Gulf
Stream.
* The word "key" is a corruption of the Spanish
Cayo or island. Thus Key West was originally "Cayo
Hueso," or Bone Island, so called from the quantity of
human bones found on it by the first white
settlers.
For nearly 300 years these peaceful looking keys,
with their bewildering network of channels, kept open
by the rushing tide currents, and coral reefs were the
chosen resorts of pirates and wreckers, both of whom
reaped rich rewards from the unfortunate vessels that
fell into their hands. Now the pirates have
disappeared, and the business of the wreckers has been
largely taken from them by the establishment of a
range of lighthouses along the outer reef, at
intervals of twenty to thirty miles. The first of
these is on Loggerhead Key, the outermost of the
Tortugas. Then comes Rebecca Shoal, halfway between
Loggerhead and Sand Key Light, which is just off Key
West. From here the lights in order up the reef are
American Shoal, Sombrero, Alligator, Carysfort, and
Fowey Rocks, off Cape Florida.
With this chain of flashing beacons to warn
mariners of the presence of the dreaded reef, the
palmy days of wreckers and beachcombers have passed
away, and they must content themselves with what they
can make out of the occasional vessels that are still
drawn in to the reef by the powerful currents ever
setting towards' it. Consequently most of those who
would otherwise be wreckers have turned their
attention to sponging in the waters behind the keys,
which form one of the great spongefields of the world,
or to the raising of pineapples and coconuts on such
of the islands as afford sufficient soil for this
purpose.
There are four ways by which one may sail up the
reef. The first is outside in the Gulf Stream, or by
"way of the Gulf"; the second is between the reef and
the keys, through the Hawk Channel; the third is
through the narrow and intricate channels among the
keys, or "inside," as the spongers say; and the fourth
is the "bay way," or through the shoal waters behind
the keys.
Of all these, the third, or inside way, was the one
chosen by Sumner as being the most protected from wind
and seas, the most picturesque, the one affording the
most frequent opportunities for landing, the most
interesting, and in every way best adapted to canoes
drawing but a few inches of water.
As the Psyche and Cupid are running easily along
the north shore of the key before a light southerly
breeze, there is time to take a look at the "duffle"
with which they are laden. In the first place, each
has two lateen sails, the long yards of which are
hoisted on short masts rising but a few feet from the
deck. These sails can be hoisted, lowered, or quickly
reefed by the canoeman from where he sits. The two
halves of the double-bladed paddles are held in metal
clips on deck, on either side of the cockpit. Also on
deck, securely fastened, is a small folding anchor,
the light but strong five-fathom cable of which runs
through a ring at the bow, and back to a cleat just
inside the forward end of the coaming.
On the floor of each canoe is folded a small tent
made of gay-striped awning cloth, and provided with
mosquito nettings at the openings. Above these are
laid the pair of heavy Mackinaw blankets and the
rubber poncho that each carries. These, which will be
shelter and bedding at night, answer for seats while
sailing.
Under the deck, at one side of each cockpit, hangs
a double barreled shotgun; and on the other Bide are
half a dozen tiny lockers, in which are stowed a few
simple medicines, fishing tackle, matches, an alcohol
lamp (flamme forcé), loaded shells for the
guns, etc. In the after stowage lockers are extra
clothing and toilet articles. The Psyche carries the
mess chest, containing a limited supply of tableware,
sugar, coffee, tea, baking powder, salt, pepper, etc.,
and a light axe, both of which are stowed at the
forward end of the cockpit. The Cupid carries in the
same place a two-gallon water keg and a small, but
well-furnished tool chest. The provisions, of which
bacon, flour, oatmeal, sea biscuit, a few cans of
baked beans and brown bread, dried apples, syrup,
cocoa, condensed milk, corn meal, rice, and hominy
form the staples, and the few necessary cooking
utensils, which are made to fit within one another,
are evenly divided between the two canoes and stowed
under the forward hatches. By Sumner's advice, many
things that the Mantons brought with them have been
left behind, and everything taken along has been
reduced to its smallest possible compass. Besides the
shotgun that Mr. Manton had given him as part of the
Psyche's outfit, Sumner was armed with a revolver that
had been his father's.
Late in the afternoon they passed the eastern point
of the island of Key West, and crossing a broad open
space, in the shoal waters of which, but for Sumner's
intimate knowledge of the place, even their light
canoes would have run aground a dozen times, they
approached the coconut groves of Boca Chica, a large
key on which they proposed to make their first
camp.
The western sky was in a glory of flame as they
hauled their craft ashore, and from the tinted waters
myriads of fish were leaping in all directions, as
though intoxicated by the splendor of the scene.
"We will catch some of those fine fellows a little
later," said Sumner, as they began to unload their
canoes and carry the things to the spot they had
already chosen for a camp.
"But it will be dark," protested Worth.
"So much the better. It's ever so much easier to
catch fish in the dark than by daylight."
There was plenty of driftwood on the beach, and in
a few minutes the merry blaze of their campfire was
leaping from a pile of it. While waiting for it to
burn down to a bed of coals, each of them drove a
couple of stout stakes, and pitched their canoe tents
near a clump of tall palms, just back of the fire,
looped up the side openings, and spread their blankets
beneath them.
"Now let's fly round and get supper," cried Sumner,
"for I am as hungry as a kingfish.
You put the coffee water on to boil, while I cut
some slices of bacon, Worth, and then I'll scramble
some eggs, too, for we might as well eat them while
they are fresh."
With his back turned to the fire, the former did
not notice what Worth was doing, until a hissing
sound, accompanied by a cry of dismay, caused him to
look round.
"I never saw such a miserable kettle as that!"
exclaimed Worth. "lust look; it has fallen all to
pieces."
For a moment Sumner could not imagine what had
caused such a catastrophe. Then he exclaimed: "I do
believe you must have set the kettle on the coals
before you put the water into it."
"Of course I did," answered Worth, "so as to let it
get hot. And the minute I began to pour water into it,
it went all to pieces."
"Experience comes high," said Sumner, "especially
when it costs us the loss of our best kettle; but
we've got to have it at any price, and I don't believe
you'll ever set a kettle on the fire again without
first putting water or some other liquid inside of
it."
"No, I don't believe I will," answered Worth,
ruefully, "if that is what happens."
In spite of this mishap, the supper was
successfully cooked, thanks to Sumner's culinary
knowledge, and by the time it was over and the dishes
had been washed, he pronounced it dark enough to go
fishing. First he cut a quantity of slivers from a
piece of pitch pine drift wood, then, having emptied
one of the canoes of its contents, he invited Worth to
enter it with him.
"But we haven't a single fish line ready,"
protested Worth.
"Oh yes, we have," laughed Sumner, lighting one end
of the bundle of pine slivers, and giving it to Worth
to hold. "You just sit still and hold that. You'll
find out what sort of a fish line it is in a minute.
Then he paddled the canoe very gently a few rods off
shore, at the same time bearing down on one gunwale
until it was even with the surface of the water. "Look
out, here they come!" he
shouted.
TORCH-FISHING FOR MULLET.
CHAPTER VI.
PINEAPPLES AND SPONGES.
THE next instant Worth uttered a startled cry and
very nearly dropped his torch, as a mullet, leaping
from the water, struck him on the side of the head,
and fell flapping into the canoe.
"Never mind a little thing like that," cried
Sumner. "Hold your torch a trifle lower. That's the
kind!" Now the mullet came thick and fast, attracted
to the bright light like moths to a candle flame. They
leaped into the canoe and over it, they fell on its
decks and flopped off into the water, they struck the
two boys until they felt as though they were being
pelted with wet snowballs; and at length one of them,
hitting the torch, knocked it from Worth's hand, so
that it fell hissing into the water.
The effect of this sudden extinguishing of the
light was startling. In an instant the fish ceased to
jump, and disappeared, while the recent noisy
confusion was succeeded by an intense stillness, Only
broken by an occasional flap from one of the victims
to curiosity that had fallen into the canoe.
"Well, that is the easiest way of fishing I ever
heard of," remarked Worth, as they stepped ashore, and
turning the canoe over, spilled out fifty or more fine
mullet. A dozen of them were cleaned, rubbed with
salt, and put away for breakfast. Then the tired
canoemates turned in for their first night's sleep in
camp.
Sumner's eyes were quickly closed, but Worth found
his surroundings so novel that for a long time he lay
dreamily awake watching the play of moonlight on the
rippling water, listening to the splash of jumping
fish, the music of little waves on the shell-strewn
beach, and the ceaseless rustle of the great palm
leaves above him. At length his wakefulness merged
into dreams, and when he next opened his eyes it was
broad daylight, the sun had just risen, and Sumner was
building a fire.
"Hurrah, Worth! Tumble out of bed and tumble into
the water," he called at that moment. "There's just
time for a dip in the briny before this fire '11 be
ready for those fish." Suiting his actions to his
words, he began pulling off his clothes, and a minute
later the two boys were diving into the cool water
like a couple of frisky young porpoises.
Oatmeal and syrup, fresh mullet, bread-and-butter
(which they had brought from home), and coffee, formed
a breakfast that Sumner declared fit for a railroad
king.
The sun was not more than an hour high before they
were again under way, this time working hard at their
paddles, as the breeze had not yet sprung up. Having
left their first camp behind them, they felt that
their long cruise had indeed begun in earnest.
For the next three days they threaded their way,
under sail or paddle, among such numberless keys and
through such a maze of narrow channels, that it seemed
to Worth as though they were entangled in a labyrinth
from which they would never be able to extricate
themselves. Whenever a long sand spit or reef shot out
from the north side of one key, a similar obstruction
was certain to be found on the south end of the next
one. Thus their course was a perpetual zigzag, and a
fair wind on one stretch would be dead ahead on the
next. Now they slid through channels so narrow that
the dense mangroves on either side brushed their
decks, and then they would be confronted by a coral
reef that seemed to extend unbrokenly in both
directions as far as the eye could reach. Worth would
make up his mind that there was nothing to do hut get
out and drag the canoes over it, when suddenly the
Psyche, which was always in the lead, would dash
directly at the obstacle, and skim through one of the
narrow cuts with which all these reefs abound.
For a long time it was a mystery to Worth how
Sumner always kept in the channel without hesitating
or stopping to take soundings. Finally he discovered
that it was by carefully noting the color of the
water. He learned that white water meant shoals, that
of a reddish tinge indicated sandbars or reefs, black
water showed rocks or grassy patches, and that the
channels assumed varying shades of green, according to
their depth.
They camped with Negro charcoal burners on one key,
and visited an extensive pineapple patch on another.
Having heard this fruit spoken of as growing on trees,
Worth was amazed to find it borne on plants with long
prickly leaves that reached but little above his
knees. The plants stood so close together, and their
leaves were so interlaced, that he did not see how any
one ever walked among them to cut the single fruit
borne at the head of each one; and when he tried it'
stepping high to avoid the bayonet-like leaves, his
wonder that any human being could traverse the patch
was redoubled.
"I would just as soon try to walk through a field
covered with cactus plants," he said.
"So would I," laughed Sumner, "if I had to walk as
you do. In a pineapple patch you must never lift your
feet, but always shuffle along. In that way you force
the prickly leaves before you, and move with their
grain instead of against it."
Although the crop would not be ready for cutting
much before May, they found here and there a
lusciously ripe yellow "pine," and after eating one of
these, Worth declared that he had never before known
what a pineapple was. He did not wonder that they
tasted so different here and in New York, when he
learned that for shipment north they must be cut at
least two weeks before they are ripe, while they are
hard and comparatively juiceless.
At the end of three days an outgoing tide, rushing
like a millrace, swept the canoes through the green
expanse of "The Grasses," that looked like a vast
submerged meadow, and into the open waters of the
Bahia Honda, or, as the reefmen say, the "Bay o'
Hundy." Here they first saw spongers at work, and
devoted an entire day to studying their
operations.
Worth had always supposed that sponges were dived
for, but now he learned his mistake. He found that in
those waters they are torn from the bottom and drawn
to the surface by iron rakes with long curved teeth
attached to slender handles from twenty to thirty feet
in length. The sponging craft are small sloops or
schooners, each of which tows from two to six boats
behind it. When a sponge bed is discovered, two men go
out in each of these boats. One of them sculls it
gently along, while the other leans over the gunwale
with a water glass in his hands, and carefully
examines the bottom as he is moved slowly over it. The
water glass is a common wooden bucket having a glass
bottom. This is held over the side of the boat so that
its bottom is a few inches below the surface of the
water, or beyond the disturbing influence of ripples.
With his head in this bucket, the sponger gazes
intently down until he sees the round black object
that he wants. Then he calls out to the sculler to
stop the boat, and with the long-handled rake that
lies by his side secures the prize. It is black and
slimy, and full of animal matter that quickly dies,
and decomposes with a most disgusting odor. To this
the spongers become so accustomed that they do not
mind it in the least, and fail to understand why all
strangers take such pains to sail to windward of their
boats.
When the deck of a sponge boat is piled high with
this unsavory spoil of the sea, she is headed towards
the nearest key on which her crew have established a
crawl,* and her cargo is tossed into it. The crawl is
a square pen of stakes built in the shallow water of
some sheltered bay, and in it the sponges lie until
their animal matter is so decomposed that it will
readily separate from them. Then they are stirred with
poles or trodden by the feet of the spongers until
they are free from it, when they are taken from the
crawl, and spread on a beach to dry and whiten in the
sun. When a full cargo has been obtained, they are
strung in bunches, and taken to Key West to be sold by
the pound at auction. There they are trimmed, bleached
again, pressed into bales, and finally shipped to New
York.
Sponges are of many grades, of which the sheep's
wool is the finest, and the great loggerheads the most
worthless. As spongers can only work in water that is
smooth, or nearly so, half their time is spent in
idleness; and though they receive large prices for
what they catch, the average of their wages is
low.
One hot afternoon at the end of a week found our
canoemates halfway up the reef, and approaching a key
called Lignum Vitae which is for several reasons one
of the most remarkable of all the keys. It is a large
island lifted higher above the surface of the water
than any of the other keys, and it contains in its
center a small freshwater lake. It is covered with all
almost impenetrable forest growth, and concealed by
this are ancient stone walls; of which no one knows
the origin or date.
* Crawl is a corruption of corral, meaning a yard
or pen.
Sumner had told Worth so much concerning this key
as to arouse his curiosity, and they both looked
forward with interest to reaching it. All day they had
seen it looming before them, and when they finally
dropped sail close beside it, Worth proposed that they
take advantage of the remaining daylight to make a
short exploration before unloading their canoes and
pitching camp. To this Sumner agreed, and as they
could not drag the laden boats up over the rocky
beach, they decided to anchor them out and wade
ashore. So the Psyche's anchor was flung out into the
channel, the Cupid was made fast to her, and a light
line from its stern was carried ashore and tied to a
tree. Then, taking their guns with them, the boys
plunged into the forest.
When, an hour later, they returned from their
exploration, bringing with them a brace of ducks and
half a dozen doves that they had shot, they gazed
about them in bewildered dismay. The canoes were not
where they had left them, nor could any trace of them
be discovered.
THE CANOES ARE GONE.
