Fisher Island Yacht Club

 

Fisher island is an island that is located in-between Virginia Key (which is the island between Key Biscayne and the mainland) and South Beach, Miami Beach Florida.  Fisher Island is only accessible by boat, Ferry, or by Helicopter ( and there are a few people who commute by helicopter that live on Fisher Island since Fisher Island has it's own heliport).  Fisher Island is perhaps 100 yards away from the island of Virginia Key and it is only a channel of water that seperate the two islands.  At one time, there was a shrimp dock that was located a couple hundred yards from the channel that seperates Virginia Key from Fisher Island, and it was a bizarre experience to be buying bait, some smoked fish, or stopping in for a cold beer, to walk out onto the dock where the shrimp boats would unload their bounty, look directly north towards the high rises of South Beach and see the opulent luxury that defines Fisher Island.  Within a thousand feet away, at the mouth of the channel that lead to 'Jimbos' Shrimp, multi-million dollar yachts fill the protected waters of Fisher Island Yacht Club, people drive their golf carts (perhaps from their helicopter) back to their waterfront condominium to perhaps enjoy the sun setting over the city of Miami as one tries to absorb the stark contrast between what is seen just a thousand feet away at Fisher Island, and what is happening here at the dock at Jimbos Shrimp Dock as crabs walk the shoreline and Pelicans dive into the water after a small fish or a mullet  with the smell of the salt water shrimp tanks running at full speed.  A couple of intoxicated men attempt to play Bocci ball with foul language being used as adjectives in every sentence.  A small 'film shoot' is taking place in one of the shanty huts that have been the backdrop in dozens of Hollywood and Disney films, but today it is for an 'Adult' mens magazine with the naked women 'models' passionately attempting to communicate with the fat, balding cameraman's camera as if it was to award the woman who could lick the most air inside of a rotting wooden Bahamian slave hut left over from the 1920s that smells of socks that have soaked in mosquito infested rainwater to the point that they rot.  It's the new sexy.  And 1000' away uniformed Captains and Crew meticulously check that the brass is polished properly on the yachts at Fisher Island.  Same planet, different worlds. Shown below is a view up the channel from Jimbo's Shrimp dock and you can see Fisher Island on the close horizon with the high-rise condos of South Beach, Miami Beach directly behind Fisher Island.  Government Cut, which is the channel of water that the cruise ships use to go out to sea is the only thing seperating Fisher Island from the traffic and madness of the non-stop party that is South Beach (SoBe as we call it down here).

 

 

Can't you just smell the dead shrimp baking on the seawall?  The proximity to Fisher Island is one of those things in life that if one is to think too long about it, it will cause the average human brain to explode.  There are few commentaries on life and the human condition that are so naturally and accurately juxtaposed.  At Jimbo's the dead shrimp are tossed off the seawall to the hungry fish but only after they leave a lingering odor throughout the cement and general vicinity.  A thousand feet away, dead shrimp are served on ice with a tangy horseradish seafood cocktail sauce to a woman who pays $25 for it with an American Express Platinum Card that she removed from her $12,000 Louis Vouitton beach purse that matches her shoes and bathrobe, but she needs to eat delicately since she just had a manicure before finding a shady table that is out of the wind so that it does not disturb her new hair fashion.  She may have just gotten coconut tanning oil on her gold Rolex. No. It is far worse, as the coconut tanning oil has not only covered her Rolex but sand now sticks to her Bling...Her dozen or so golden bangels. Did anyone mention her nails?  And the food is not even at her table yet and her cloth napkin needs to be replaced but where are the waiters when you need one?

 

 

Meanwhile back at Jimbo's Shrimp dock, a man just woke up from a nap in something that looks like an abandoned trailer without wheels except that it cannot be abandoned since there is a tarp over the roof to keep the rain from coming in, a cardboard beer case acting as a front window and an extension cord coming out of the main building and running all of the way into the overgrown area where it follows a well worn footpath into the used - to - be - trailer where another man and something that looks like a female, except with fewer teeth, emerge in time for her to crack open a seemingly warm beer while he relieved himself near where there used to be a trailer axle.  Meanwhile, one of the regulars got up for another beer and to move his laundry off of the clothesline to join the next game of Bocci Ball. He needs to stay close to and keep watch over his trailer since it is by far the most luxurious on the premises and people seem to move in and out of trailers here like they move in and out of the port-a-potties that have been full for months and perhaps even longer.  It is probably that they are simply turned on their sides when there is a heavy torrential downpour of a rainstorm as a way of "cleaning" them.  Oddly enough there always seems to be more port-a-potties here as if this is someone's collection or this is where they go to die. It is sort of fun in a twisted way to watch a lost young couple show up here for some bait or for some smoked fish make the mistake of believing these potties are actually sanitary or fit for human use.  Priceless. Well, while this 'regular' is up moving his laundry with his new beer in hand, preparing for a game of Bocci Ball while keeping a sharp eye on the front door of his trailer, he is immediately replaced in his chair by a stray dog that is scratching and shedding onto possibly what used to be a Lazy Boy recliner and is now more likely a home for a small litter of Racoons.

 

 

Thankfully lunch on the Fisher Island beach right out the front door of our resident's 7 bedroom oceanfront Fisher Island residence was entirely enjoyed with the Mango Sorbet putting the finishing touches on a lovely afternoon and all without sand blowing into the Pina Coladas. Such big problems.  There is nobody who understands.  Who could possibly understand how difficult everything is from day to day.  So many things to do that are so important.  There is no time to even speak of it.  You wouldn't understand.  Executive personal assistant Consuela just announced to our Platinum card holding Louis Vouitton purse swinging woman that all is well and nearly ready for yachting with every guests casual yachting clothes are in the staterooms on the yacht.  Life seems lovely, but the Captain hasn't called yet which could only mean that he is not done fueling the vessel yet which means the sun may not be in a good position for everyone's Bikini lines while they head to their private Bahamian island home for the weekend. There is just so many things that are going on.  Things are crazy.  You wouldn't understand.   If leaving port takes any longer, this could spell disaster and is certainly not the way to spend a long weekend.  It is with this immense amount of pressure, there is no other choice for our damsel in distress but to have the bartender mix up something strong immediately.  In fact it was at this point she took one of her assorted tablets to curb the incredible anxiety that is commonly associated with hosting friends aboard your private yacht to take them to your private island for the weekend with inadequate tanning opportunities for yourself and your guests.  Privately she was grateful for her physician, her pharmacist, and her bartender and marveled to herself on how far pharmacology has advanced so that she had pills specifically for the anxiety associated with hosting friends aboard your yacht as you are taking them to your island for the weekend and not being able to provide adequate tanning opportunities.  At once she was filled with awe and amazement that her Doctor would be able to diagnose such a specific and extraordinarily rare ailment such as these anxiety attacks brought on by inadequate tanning opportunities, then her head was nearly spinning off when she considered how her physician would know which pills to prescribe and how her pharmacist and Doctor together could formulate the proper dosing schedule and how she had other anti-anxiety pills for other types of anxiety.  She was lost in thought even with such empty thoughts, never realizing that even though she was surrounded by people and 'caring professionals', she was alone AND lonely.  Her bartender was next in the line of 'caring professionals' who knew her and more about her than she did but before she got too lost in thought, she took her tablet along with the Bartender's professional, personally prepared concoction and found that her tablet took on a new sensation when taken with her tropical alcoholic drink, and this totally took the edge off of her anxiety.  Now she had it all and  the vessel was fueled and finally underway without any disruption of tanning opportunities for herself or for her guests. Incredibly, her crisis was averted.  Even had it not be averted, she would not have been there to know any different and it she did have  any new or strange type of anxiety that was not tanning related, certainly her 'caring professionals' on speed dial would find the right combination of pills and drink to ease the pain, to fill her soul with purpose and a sense of security even if only for a little while.  Drinks served in the finest chilled china and a light snack of the freshest food  was prepared by the on board chef and served by the wait staff aboard her vessel filled with 'friends' while heading east, being underway to her private Bahamian island just as the sun sets in a deep red majesty and it sets directly over Jimbos Shrimp Dock.

 

 

As the  summer sun sets on one woman's world of problems while she lives  'the good life' on her  way to the Bahamas, she is now entirely too numb to feel anything anymore which is fine with her 'friends' who are re-telling the age old classic joke about how it is so much better to not have a yacht, but to have friends that have yachts. Man that joke is funny! Never loses its edge!

 

The full moon rises over yachts, helicopters, and designer golf carts on Fisher Island, and freshly showered couples make their way down to the oceanfront restaurant with reserved tables romantically set up on the beach surrounded by the fire light of the tiki torches prepared to feast on the finest food imaginable with each course served with the appropriate wine to compliment the fare.

 

 A thousand feet away at Jimbo's Shrimp Dock, under the same full moon, a symphony of unmistakable sounds break the sound of the small waves lapping the shoreline with a trailer door banging loosely shut,  a can of cheap beer opens, and the dog is ready to barf on the Bocci Ball court.  Another day in Paradise!