ONLY IN THE KEYS | By Jana Vandelaar
Do abandoned boats have ghosts on board?
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Posted - Friday, October 23, 2009 09:42 AM EDT
A unique Keys pleasure craft — a pontoon boat with a camper, thatched hut and a recliner onboard. Scary?
Who needs to go to a haunted house when you’ve got scary boats right in your backyard?
We were going to dinner via boat last night and, like we have for at least 10 years, we puttered past a strange boat buried deep in the mangroves. For the last five years, we’ve noticed it hasn’t moved a bit. By this I mean, nothing has changed at all — from the crooked signs stating “KEEP OUT” to the dirty towel on the back of the Lazy Boy. Nothing has budged or shifted. It’s been completely untouched as far as we can tell. And yes, I said Lazy Boy. We’ve got a boat tucked into the mangroves behind our house with a moldy bluish-green Lazy Boy recliner on its deck.
Actually, I’m not sure what the recliner sits on. Like many boats in the Keys, this one has personality up its stern. It’s made up of many original resources or materials. The main decking or frame of the boat looks like a pontoon, but between the pontoons, they’ve got some type of round, metal floating device. They probably needed the extra flotation device to support the camper trailer plopped on the back of the pontoons.
The camper is a nice touch, but I think the thatched hut roofing really sets it apart from its rivals. And, it does tie in nicely with the Lazy Boy motif.
I’ll bet you don’t find this type of originality in places like Newport Beach.
Captains courageous
But, I’ve got to get back to the issue of abandonment. Why haven’t we seen anyone around the boat? What is going on? Did someone forget about it?
Or, maybe someone is, well, who knows...?
It could be because Halloween is just around the corner and we’re all hyped up with spooky thoughts, but when we puttered past the seemingly abandoned boat this time, our conversation switched from, “what are ya drinking?” and “put on your lifevest,” to:
My daughter: “Mom, who lives on that boat?”
Me: “Um, I don’t know sweetie...”
My husband: “Maybe you should be asking, “Who’s dead on that boat?”
My daughter: “Gross!”
Me: “Honey! Gads. She’s SIX! Nightmares, remember?”
My daughter: “Can someone really be dead in there?”
My husband and me: (Silence.)
My daughter: “Seriously? Gross!”
My husband to me: “Double dare you to take a peek inside.”
Me: “No way.”
My daughter to me: “Triple dare!”
Me: “Who are you people? Geez. Give the owner some respect.”
My husband: “Yeah. Listen to your mom. Ya gotta respect the dead.”
Me: “Uh, thank you?”
My husband: “Anyway, we don’t need to look inside. I can get a little closer and we’ll just see if it smells weird.”
My daughter and me: “Gross!”
From that point on to the restaurant, my daughter pointed to every anchored boat we passed by and asked timidly, “Do you think someone is dead in that boat?”
To be honest, I couldn’t be sure my “OF COURSE NOT!” answer was always correct. I mean, some of those boats were ridiculously beat up. I don’t even think a rat would survive the elements inside. At least, not without bringing a strong bottle of tequila-flavored rat poison to help it get through the night.
Who really does know if people are alive or dead inside some of these boats? Is there a dead-person-boat-checker job out there? It would be kind of cool to go around and check out the inside of everyone’s boats. Unless you did found someone...
My friends, Marci and Ken, had a boat mysteriously appear out of nowhere and anchore up in the middle of the bay behind their house. After a few months of watching it sit there without any activity, they took their boat out and circled it a few times, looking for life, acting like super spies.
And then they went home and called the Coast Guard.
Oh. Okay. So the Coast Guard folks are the dead-person-boat-checkers. Good to know. Ya gotta wonder what they do find in these boats from time to time though. Ick.
No matter what, I know I wouldn’t be caught dead on the pontoon/trailer/thatched roof boat behind our house. (Get it? Caught dead?) I’d rather die floating in an inner tube wearing a thong and pasties. The boat might have personality, but it’s a little over the top. Even for the Keys.
(Uh, God: I was just joking. DO NOT let me die in an inner tube — or even in a yacht — wearing a thong and pasties. Okay?)
(Well, maybe in a yacht...)
