August 10, 2014
My dad and I left the hotel around 6:30 AM, but not before purchasing our fishing licenses online. We didn't need licenses with the Keys guides because they had licenses for all of their clients. We met Captain Roger at a nearby Home Depot. Excited to do some peacock bass fishing, our hopes were dashed when he said that the trolling motor wasn't working. We stood there for an hour as he disassembled the motor and tried to fix it. An electrical short had fried the circuit box in the foot pedal. At one point, he pulled apart two wires just before my dad was about to suggest he unplug the battery. The wires popped and shot sparks everywhere. Everyone jumped back. That was not a confidence booster for me. Eventually, we decided to go do an Everglades tour and told him to call us if he got it fixed. Sure enough, we were no more than a few miles away when he called us and told us that he had got it working with some scrap parts he owned. We turned back.
We fished a large square tank at a limestone quarry, fishing along the bank. We caught tons of fish with a little slipshot weight, a small hook, and a shiner-minnow hooked through the lip. The fishing was easy and fun. Several times, we each had a fish on at the time. I think we each caught about 10 or more fish. Over the past three days, I think we each caught roughly 20-30 fish.
Afterward, we drove to South Beach, Miami. I parked the truck on the top story of a garage and we changed before going to the beach. We walked the beach a little and sat in the Atlantic Ocean for a while. Being that it was a Sunday afternoon, the beach was packed. We then went to dinner at a nice Cuban restaurant on Ocean Drive. The food was surprisingly good. My slow-roasted, shredded pork was cooked to perfection. When we left, we smoked cigars as we watched guys do acrobatic tricks on pull-up bars near the beach. I originally struggled to light my cigar in the wind. My dad razzed me about it.
Sadly, the time came for us to go to the airport. I dropped off my dad, not knowing where I was going next. Once again, he was the only adult at the airport with a backpack for luggage. Afterward, I gassed up my truck and sat there for a while as I decided what to do. I finally booked a room at the Bikini Hostel Cafe and Beer Garden. The hostel had high reviews as being one of the few in Miami to actually have a social atmosphere. When I arrived, I had a different opinion. The beer garden had a couple groups of people who looked like they lived permanently at the hostel and sat at the same picnic tables every day. I got my sheets and set up my bed. In my room, I met two British guys and agreed to join them if I saw them at the beer garden later.
I tried to catch a bus to South Beach from the bay side of the small island, where the hostel sat. I caught a bus that moved parallel to the coast, bringing me no closer to the opposite coast, South Beach. So, I hopped off and walked the rest of the way on my own. It didn't take long. I wandered around the beach as I talked to Cassie on the phone. In time, I got tired of the beach and certainly didn't feel like hanging around the chaotic restaurant and bar scene along Ocean Drive. So, with the sunset fast approaching, I walked back to the hostel, stopping at the 11th Street Diner for a BLT.
I found the British guys at the hostel having a beer in our room, so I joined them. Phil was a clean-shaven, redhead guy about a year older than me, out of college and working as an accountant. James had a short beard and long, wavy dark hair. He was a sophomore in college, studying art. I enjoyed talking with them. We moved to the beer garden for several hours. A Swiss girl joined us as well but her English was very poor, so it was hard for us to communicate.
The guys said that their one regret of taking buses around the U.S. is that they didn't get to experience the countryside. I offered for them to join me on an Everglades Airboat trip the next day. I could drive them there and then back to their bus. They were down for the trip.
Odometer - 2530 mi
Hostel beer garden
Hostel room
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