The Songlines of Key West: Doing the Duval Crawl

Travel Stories: In a three-part series, Bill Belleville burrows deep into the spirit of the mythic island.

The City of Key West, which sports a pink-lipped queen conch shell on its official seal, actually “seceded” from the Union back in the 1980s via an official City proclamation. After doing so, it declared “war” on the U.S., and then one full minute later, the mayor surrendered and requested foreign aid. This actually happened, even though the federal government chose to ignore it. 

Earlier today, Michelle and I were at a local party out near Garrison Bight and actually met the “Secretary-General” of the Conch Republic, one Sir Peter Anderson, a tall good-natured fellow who enjoys pontificating about the “state of mind” that Key West commands. Sir Peter has a real office with a real flag, issues passports and even implies a very real diplomatic immunity might be achieved, especially during certain moon phases. The motto is: “We seceded where others failed.” 

There’s a strong tendency to want to play along, especially since the Republic back on the mainland doesn’t seem to be having a whole lot of fun these days.

We are here in the hurricane season, which means that at any given time, a tropical storm can swell up and then Cuisinart its way over the top of this two-by-four-mile sea-level island with little effort. If this was anywhere else in Florida, TV weather people would be scaring the bejesus out of us with thunderstorm alerts. But the big news here is about the forthcoming Hemingway Look-Alike Contest—followed by ongoing reports about the status of the “gypsy chickens of Key West,” a heady issue that appears to have divided the town into pro and con poultry camps. (A chicken catcher was once hired to corral the fowl, but no one is sure what has become of him.) Meanwhile, at the Chicken Store on Duval, I can sign a petition to “hold dear the heart-stoppingly beautiful wild chickens of the City of Key West and ask they be preserved here forever.” 

The sovereignty of the Conch Republic, ruled by Sir Peter and inhabited by anyone with a sense for the idiosyncratic, implies immunity to just about all higher forces—from tropical storms to rigid normalcy. At Greene Street, Michelle and I dodge the Conch Train tour, a cartoonish mini-locomotive trailing along open cars full of brightly dressed tourists like a mechanized conga line. I notice some of the passengers are actually taking photos and home video of us. It occurs to me that an “attraction” in this old island town is just about anything that fits inside a viewfinder. 

On Greene Street, we duck under a sign with a giant grouper into Capt. Tony’s Saloon, where a couple of decades ago, I remember spending a leisurely summer afternoon chatting with the good captain himself. 

A conch slinging feud erupted a few years ago when the new owners of Tony’s were sued by the new owners of Sloppy Joe’s, just a few lurches away on Duval. The current Sloppy’s trucks big on promoting itself as “Hemingway’s Favorite Bar,” although the original pub was actually in the building where Tony’s sits today. 

Little signs are now posted in both bars that clarify when and where Hemingway actually drank. 

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Bill Belleville is an author and documentary filmmaker specializing in nature and sense of place. He once lived in Key West in a little Conch house on White Street, not far from where Elizabeth Bishop wrote "The Bight," and a few blocks from where Hemingway once refereed boxing matches in Bahama Village.


3 Comments for The Songlines of Key West: Doing the Duval Crawl

DeeVon Quirolo 01.08.09 | 11:18 AM ET

Bill—you’ve done your magic again, spinning that special spell of words that bring up the very best of Key West.  So glad you came back for a visit.  See you next time.  DeeVon

jim scurti 01.28.09 | 7:39 PM ET

Hi Bill & Thanks for the “Duval Crawl” article.  I too remember Shortys…open all night…where the cabbies hung out and you could grab a great breakfast before leaving the island early in the morning. I remember watching Capt. Tony watch his patrons with world weary amusement and patience. For two consecutive nights ,a thousand years ago it seems, I danced with a dental assistant from Virginia who I was wildly in love with…and I had a few miles on me even then…35 years or so ago…I still think about her…the band was The Pacific Orchestra. I stayed at the La Concha where the walls were marbled with stains, and the Southernmost..which was only one motor lodge then…you could even walk around in Hemingways writing studio…touch the books on his shelves.  El Cacique was the first place I had yellowtail…my God, I thought I’d found heaven!  First place I ever had coconut ice cream too. God bless us all.  Thanks, Jim

Liz Randall 02.08.09 | 11:11 AM ET

Hey Bill, thanks for the great virtual trip to my favorite island. Can’t wait to swelter on the Conch Republic again.
Liz

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