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 main-land, 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[A] and the main-land 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.
[A] 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 net-work 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 light-houses 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, half-way 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 beach-combers 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
sponge-fields of the world, or to the raising of pineapples and
cocoanuts 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-barrelled
shot-gun; and on the other side 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
table-ware, 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 shot-gun 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
cocoanut 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 drift-wood on the beach, and in a few minutes the
merry blaze of their camp-fire 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. "Just
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.
[Illustration: TORCH-FISHING FOR MULLET.]