In Search of Ernest Hemingway

One of John's most respected writers is Ernest Hemingway. The iconic writer led a larger than life existence. This sometimes raucous man seemingly had it all: fame and fortune. Hemingway experienced numerous lifetimes all wrapped up in one.

'Papa' Hemingway's framed photograph in his Key West home.

'Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.' Ernest Hemingway

The quotation above embodies the life of this writer - all lives end in death, but sometimes the way a person dies, does make them different from others. Hemingway proved that by choosing the manner of death, committing suicide on July 2nd, 1961 in Ketchum, Idaho.

Traveling the Florida Keys, allowed John and Laureen, to truly slow down and discover many things they had no idea existed. It's a laid back sort of lifestyle - the Keys. Beaches everywhere, bars and restaurants located alongside Highway 1, and the residents very friendly.

So, how does this driving end up with a blog on Ernest Hemingway? Well, it isn't really about him, but the influence he had in Key West, during the nine years he lived there full-time. Attention-getting was not something Hemingway had to work at, but attention was certainly something he got. As one of the world's best known writers, both short stories and novels, wherever he went, news soon followed.

As we drove through the city/key of Islamorada, we noticed a beautifully appointed Bass Pro Shop, located on the Overseas Highway (a fancy title for the 113 mile road, also known as Highway 1). Being fans of the chain (strange since neither of us have any interest in fishing), we stopped and ventured inside to have a look-see.

There, in the center of this huge outdoor sports supply mecca, stood a thirty-eight foot trawler with the name Pilar boldly emblazoned on it's hull. John instantly got goosebumps. It couldn't be...could it?

Looks like the Pilar!

Was this the Pilar, that Hemingway had built for his time in Key West? Turns out it wasn't, but a cleverly created duplicate (sister-ship), built at the same place and same boatyard as the true Pilar -  now located in a museum in Cuba. This boat is almost identical to the one Hemingway had owned - down to the same exact model typewriter the writer had used for most of his prose in the southern most city in the United States.

John at the keys of Hemingway's typewriter? In the Keys.

Not disappointed at all that this wasn't the exact boat, no, in fact, it only made John that more fired up to get to Key West and tour the house and haunts that Hemingway lived and visited.

Well, Laureen wasn't in that much of a hurry -
relax a bit on the veranda and then hit the road. Island Time.

Key West, is to Florida what New Orleans is to Louisiana, an eclectic group of stores, bars, restaurants, residences and residents. As mentioned in the previous blog, In Search of Jimmy Buffet, Key West is a must-see destination. It is crazy fun, with so much to see in the narrow streets bordered by the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico.

Hemingway thought so too when he moved with his wife, Pauline, and their newborn son, Patrick. It was here in Key West that the author found his true success in writing, knocking out nearly 70% of all his combined works. A Farewell to Arms, Death in the Afternoon, and Green Hills of Africa to name just a few of the great works he tapped out during his Key West Days. In fact, Hemingway was probably, according to research, one of the first American novelists to have his work appear on the silver screen. At least eleven of his novels and short stories were turned into block bluster films.

His own life was an ongoing film. Married four times, wounded in World War I as an ambulance driver, he had traveled the world and even lived in Paris with the likes of James Joyce, Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein, and the Fitzgeralds. He embarked on lengthy deep sea fishing and explorations of the Caribbean aboard the Pilar, went on Safari into Africa, wrote about bull runs in Spain. He was a reporter during the Spanish Civil War, and during World War II, earned the Bronze Star for his  journalistic work. Rumors and myths are still alive today, that Hemingway informally led a small platoon of soldiers at the retaking of Paris from the Nazis. He wasn't supposed to do that, being simply a journalist, but that couldn't stop Papa Hemingway. Adventure was in his blood - a few German soldiers were not likely to scare this man.

He won the Pulitzer Prize in 1952 and the Noble Prize in 1954. He did it all.

The house which the Hemingway family called home, is located at 907 Whitehead Street, a quaint and beautifully quiet section of Key West, just blocks from the sea which the writer loved so much. The white and black, two story abode rests comfortably on nearly an acre of land - the largest privately owned residential property on the island.

John, standing at the entrance to the Hemingway house

The house is stately, but not overly flashy. A place where the writer and his family would be comfortable and afford Hemingway a hidden oasis to write. His fame, and his drinking in town, especially at Sloppy Joe's, caused Hemingway to choose to have a tall wall built around the home. People would often just walk up to the front door to see Hemingway at all hours of the day or night. He needed his privacy.

How Hemingway looked while living in Key West

Office where Hemingway wrote

One truly interesting item about the house is the number of cats roaming freely. You'd think Hemingway, being muy macho and all that, would have a love for large beastly dogs. Nope. He liked cats - and they are everywhere about the home. He had been given a six toed feline when they first moved to Key West from a ship's captain. This first polydactyl (six-toed) feline was named Snowball - and all of Snowball's descendants, nearly 50 of them, still reside around the property.  There's even a kitty cemetery on the grounds.

Cats own the house and the master bed

When Hemingway had returned home from covering the Spanish Civil War, he found that Pauline had torn down his beloved rear yard boxing ring. In its place was the largest privately owned pool south of Miami.

It seemed, Pauline had learned that her husband had taken up with her friend, Martha Gellhorn during the Spanish Civil War, where Martha was also working as a journalist. So, as payback, Pauline had Ernest's boxing ring torn down and a pool put in.

The largest pool in the Florida Keys - of course

Not to be outdone, Hemingway got drunk at Sloppy Joe's, which was being remodeled and dragged a urinal all the way home in the dead of night. When Pauline saw it in the back yard, she asked what it was. He told her, "You have your pool, and now I have my own."

The urinal pool - laying sideways

The couple didn't last long after that, which was truly the way Hemingway's marriages usually went. Get married and get divorced. Interesting, he tended to marry the women who were introduced to him by his current wife at the time.

His first spouse, Hadley introduced Pauline to Ernest - soon there was an affair and a divorce. Pauline, his second spouse, introduced Martha to Ernest, soon there was an affair and a divorce. Martha, his third spouse, introduced Mary to Ernest, soon there was an affair but this time no divorce. Mary made sure not to introduce any of her female friends to Ernest - safer that way.

"I don't mind Ernest falling in love," Pauline once wrote, "but why does he always have to marry the girl when he does?"

So, the search for Ernest Hemingway in Key West was complete. We learned a lot more about the author than what was available simply in material research. We walked where he walked. We had a drink or two at his favorite watering hole, and learned why he had moved to Key West in the first place.

Key West is an Ernest Hemingway mecca for millions of his fans. His influence can be seen and felt throughout the city. There's even an annual Hemingway Days each July - many white-bearded gentlemen (not Santa) arrive, trying to look like the writer himself.

He  moved from Key West to Cuba in 1939, when he married Martha. He'd spent only nine years in the keys, but left an indelible mark nearly a hundred years later.

Though Ernest Hemingway was larger than life, in many ways, he was still simply a man. At the end, he was suffering from severe depression, the inability to write, and overall tiredness from an excess of adventures. Severely wounded during World War I, continual pain from two plane crashes, liver issues (hmmm, wonder why), weight issues, and other maladies collected, over a lifetime of abuse - both mentally and physically.

He lived life on his own terms, and on that summer morning in Ketchum, Idaho - he decided to go out on his own terms, as well.

As a tour guide stated at the Hemingway house - "We can't judge him for committing suicide. It was his choice, as was his entire life. He decided how and when the whole adventure would be over."

We may not agree - but then again, it's okay to agree to disagree.

For further information:

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Hemingway

https://www.hemingwayhome.com/

https://fla-keys.com/hemingway-days/

In Search of Jimmy Buffet

We'll find you, Mr. Jimmy Buffet - in Key West

One of John's dreams has always been to explore the Florida Keys. In the United States, keys are  spelled and pronounced keys whereas in many other parts of the world, such as the Bahamas or Turks and Caicos, these areas of land are spelled cays. Still pronounced keys, they are sandy, low-elevation islands poised on top of a coral reef.

In other words, Paradise.

There was such adventure awaiting this dynamic duo, once the plane landed on the tarmac at Miami International Airport.

Laureen at the Southernmost point
 on the Continental USA

First stop, pick up the rental Jeep Wrangler Unlimited. What else could two explorers select as their means of transportation while driving south over a hundred sixty miles to the most southern tip of the United States?  It was the second week of September - yes, mid-hurricane season in this part of the world - so, having the correct vehicle seemed wise.

The trip may have been cancelled if it had been planned for just a week earlier. That was when the powerful Hurricane Dorian, tore through the Bahamas, leaving behind unspeakable devastation and death. Luckily for the people of Florida, Dorian had turned north-east and only skirted the outer shores of the United States.

With that said, the people of the Bahamas remained in our hearts and prayers as we drove south in search of Jimmy Buffet, the poet, song-writer (and extremely wealthy businessman).

Of course we knew that Jimmy would not be sitting down with a couple of margaritas on a sandy beach on the Gulf of Mexico with us - but in search we went anyway.

Buffet and Key West are synonymous for being unique and resilient. Walking down Duval Street, the main thoroughfare in old Key West, only enhances the wonderful strangeness of the place. There are bars and more bars, stores selling anything and everything, Tarot card readers, and even a brothel, about which the locals only smile and shrug when asked. This part of Key West is about as eclectic  as Jimmy Buffet's songs are.

Duval Street in the evening in Key West

Key West was once a lonely outpost, accessible only by boat. But through time, a railroad was built, only to be quickly destroyed (due to a hurricane - what else?). Finally a road was constructed which linked all the keys heading southwest from Miami to Key West. Soon, the likes of Hemingway, Capote, President Truman, President John F. Kennedy introduced the keys to the rest of the world.

Key West had made it.

Some strangely beautiful people in Key West...

As with Key West, Buffet had also seen times when he wasn't Jimmy Buffet, but simply Jimmy Buffet, a down-on-his-luck singer from Nashville. He had tried his musical talent in that famous, Tennessee city, but after awhile, and with no money in his pockets - plus a divorce - he headed south.

South, would be traveling with his friends Jerry Jeff Walker (of Mr. Bojangles, fame) and Teresa "Murphy" Clark. Jerry and Teresa allowed Jimmy to stay with them at their house in Coconut Grove in Miami.

But soon, restlessness moved Jimmy further south to Key West. He knew, that perhaps this strangely beautiful area, and it's equally strangely beautiful people would understand his music and lyrics.

Nashville hadn't - so what did he have to lose?

In the early 1970's he lived in a little apartment next to a place called, Louie's Backyard, a bar and restaurant.

We visited the place, had a beer or two while looking over the ocean and didn't realize where we were actually sitting. Then we heard the bartender - we like bartenders - telling a story when a certain song came out and people started visiting the bar and 'stealing' items. Anything, so they could tell their friends, they had some memorabilia linked to Jimmy Buffet.

In 1974, Jimmy's album, Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season, talked about Louie's Backyard.

'God, I slept way past noon, Stood up and tried to focus, I hoped I wouldn't have to look far, I knew I could use a Bloody Mary, So I stumbled next door to the bar.'

"I actually had to chase two guys down the beach who stole a full size lounge chair." she told us.

"Why not the whole bar?"

"It was too heavy and bolted to the floor, I guess," she replied.

First place Jimmy Buffet played in Key West - for beers only!

Soon after arriving in Key West, Jimmy found himself playing in a very small club called the Chart Room at the Pier House Motel.

He played for beers. Wow! For beers - the guy is worth over a half-a-billion dollars now. Gotta love the opportunities the good old United States offers a down and out singer from the 70's.

Along with Jim Croce, Vaughn Cochran, and others, Jimmy hit his stride and the rest is history for this musical icon.

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes, his 6th album released in 1977, made it into mainstream audiences and his career took off.

But, unlike many up and coming musical artists - Jimmy was business savvy. He began marketing islander styled clothing, posters, and then opened his first Margaritaville in Key West.

Laureen, pointing out where Margaritville started in Key West

From there, the money kept pouring in - but he never forgot his roots.

In 1985, his album Last Mango in Paris, hit the charts and one song spoke (he's a poet and he knows it) about Captain Tony's Saloon on Green Street.

John in front of - hmmm, a bar - very strange

'I went down to Captain Tony's, To get out of the heat, Then I heard a voice call out to me, "Son come have a seat", I had to search my memory, As I looked into those eyes, Our lives change like the weather, But a legend never dies.'

Even though Jimmy moved to Palm Beach around 1992, he kept his house in Key West until 1998, when he sold it for over a million dollars. He was a smart guy with the bucks!

So, we found the early Jimmy Buffet in Key West - walking the streets and alleys of this town let us realize the draw it had on a young singer. It has the same appeal to these travelers. A place where a person can be who they are - challenge themselves - and prove they have the grit to succeed with their dreams no matter the setbacks.

Jimmy Buffet, along with many others, have made this key their home and not only found themselves, but their fortunes as well.

If it wasn't for the bloody hurricanes and humidity!

Our search was over - on to the next one.

Who's next on the list to search for in the Florida Keys?

Two Rivers Run Near-By

On a recent trip to Meridian, Idaho, to visit daughter Kelly, and son-in-law Travis,  our buddy and trusty cameraman, Paul Bakas came along for the ride. Well, from our humble abode, the ride was a little over 13 hours, non-stop. Laureen could not make this particular trip, due to conflicts in her work schedule, so it was up to the two boys this trip.

"Are you're sure that you both can go and not get into trouble?" she asked, a week before our departure.

I recalled, being in Pamplona, Spain, during the annual bull run, many years earlier, made famous by the great American author, Ernest Hemingway, and that hadn't worked out for the best. No I didn't get gored, but I'll never forget the breath of one bull running a lot faster than I was. I jumped over a short fence to safety. The man in front of me - well, one horn taught him a lesson.

"We won't get in trouble," I reassured Laureen.

And, we did not. The drive from Victorville to Meridian (a city nestled next door to Boise) was an easy one. Long, but easy.

This was not just a chance to visit with  Kelly and Travis, but we were to partake in two separate river excursions. Running the white water of the Payette River, with an experienced guide and then the next day, floating the calm and easy Boise River in an inner-tube.

The Crew: Kelly, John, Travis, and Paul taking the photo

Running the Payette River, is never to be taken for granted. Helmets, life vest, paddles, and a strict lecture, given by our guide, Lee MacDonald Pownau, to whom we nearly had to swear our souls.

"Where does rafting happen?" drill sergeant Lee asked.

"In the river," Paul replied.

The look Paul received from Lee was unnerving. I turned my head away. "It begins and ends in the raft. Without the raft, there is no rafting."

Captain Ahab - no, Captain Lee 

Actually, I was thinking, if there was no river, there wouldn't be the need of a raft. I remained silent, afraid my helmet, life vest, and soul would be lost to the churning waters upon which we were about to embark, if I disagreed with Lee.

We pushed off, and immediately took to the river like fish running for their lives. The next few hours reminded me of the time when I was a law enforcement officer. Most of the time, it was just a job taking reports, but - and this is a big but - there was about 5 to 10 percent of the time, it was stark raving crazy.

The raft behind us - the river can be tricky

"Paddle forward," Lee barked, and I wondered what the big deal was. Well, going over a six foot waterfall of bone crushing water was a big deal. The five of us, on our raft, paddled like people being chased by demons.

A rather relaxed section of the Payette at this time

According to Lee, the Payette was actually down quite a few feet from it's high mark in mid-June. That's when things can get dicey. It was dicey enough, and when we came ashore near the town of  Lowman we were all tired from paddling and looking for holes in the river (a term for river runners that would conjure doom).

Lowman is a very small settlement, situated in the mountains, about two hours north-east of Boise.

The owners of the Payette River Company, Sean and Ginger Glaccum, have a wonderful business, that not only allows people to raft along the Payette, but have experienced guides, who also know the history of the region.

With Lee, there was so much to learn, and he didn't scrimp on sharing his knowledge.

It was great river run: some scary rapids and some nice long runs, along placid clear blue water, allowing us to chit and chat. What more could one ask for?

The next day, it was off to the near-by river, the Boise, for the annual float enjoyed by locals and tourists alike. Very different from the previous day: no one was hanging on for dear life, hurtling down white water waterfalls. No, this was to be enjoyed by all ages.

The difference was surreal.

Floating down the Boise does not require lectures from expert white water guides. It's about having fun on a sunny day with family and friends. Utilizing inner tubes, flip-flops, and water proof cameras  is all that is required. The ride starts near a pub knocking back a couple of cold ones. We started off at Payette Brewing, just a few steps from the Boise River. A couple of toasts and then a short walk across the river to a waiting bus. A few bucks, and the bus dropped us off at the start of the float fifteen minutes later.

From there, it was simply laughing, laughing and laughing some more. No huge waterfalls - though, there are a few sections of speedy water, and a person could get tossed from their floaty if they aren't observant.

Kelly looks like she's struggling on the river, not!
 Looks more like a model.

Travis is wondering, why his beer hasn't been delivered. 

Paul, struggling through the treacherous waters of the Boise River
 - hang on Dude!

The city of Boise, only allows a certain time to float the Boise, due to weather conditions. When Laureen and I were there in early June, rafting wasn't allowed. The water was running too quickly and far too cold.

July and August are the months to enjoy, stretching out on an inner tube, or raft and enjoying the peaceful serenity of the currents.

The end of the trip winds up where we started, across from Payette Brewing and how perfect is that? Start with a brew and end with a brew.

Life couldn't, in this writer's opinion, be better than that.

When in Idaho, explore the rivers - and if there's enough courage - run one.

Love the water and the water will love you.

Photographs by: John R. Beyer and Paul K. Bakas