We’ve entered the Conch Republic. Our arrival was a bit of a let down, as we expected to be met with some fanfare. However, it appears that Americans visit this island nation quite frequently and the locals don’t seem to get that worked up about it.
On the way into the country we spotted a plain white airship with no markings. I believe it to be a spy ship of some sort from the NSA or the CIA. I believe they are spying on marine life, Conch Republic fisherman, and of course our movements. As we haven’t decided if the Conch locals are friends or foe, I will continue to travel under the name Rasputin.
We were also shadowed by a boarder patrol agent on our way from Miami. We documented his movements. Although the Conch Boarder entry isn’t secure, we fear this agent might impede our return to the U.S. If so, we will stay and do more research on what appears to be a growing rum industry in this country.
Mrs S had to be lured on this trip with the promise of fresh and abundant seafood. So far, she has not been disappointed. We’ve taken to the local dining establishments. We discovered BLT Benedict for breakfast (Bacon, lobster, & tomato). After tasting it, I’m certain this might have something to do with the secession movement. I believe they want to keep it to themselves.
We have also discovered that the island seems to be overrun with chickens. They come and go as they please and don’t seem to have gainful employment. I asked a particular one if it bothered him that I was eating eggs. He looked at me with a level of contempt that told me that someday they would unite and peck their way to the ruling class. Already their numbers are alarming.
As for the humans, I spoke to a local named “Tim.” He didn’t want me to use his real name (Tim), so I put it in quotes. “Tim” tells me that many Cubans came to Key West for freedom and to expand the popular sport of cock fighting. When that practice was finally outlawed, they took up cock wrestling. The sport only lasted a few weeks, as it was not as popular and they couldn’t get the birds to wear the luchador masks. Now the only sport on the island that involves chickens is to see what middle school euphemism for the word cock you can print on a t-shirt.
We haven’t witnessed much unrest, but we do believe that the Conch Navy is planning a stealth mission under the guise of a fishing expedition. We observed these men getting ready to leave port and their behavior was most sinister. We will have to continue to monitor them from the bar, I mean, camouflaged look-out from which this photo was taken.
Our quest to observe mischief and report on it from this curious island nation continues We will be visiting the home of Ernest Hemingway as well as a man who claims to be the U.S. Ambassador to the Conch Republic. I suspect both will be enlightening. Until our next report…
Carry on, Citizens!