Saturday, June 5, 2010


This is a two-year-old re-posting
--part of "my story"...

On the "Sugar Lump"
This scene is almost a replica of where I spent my 10 days.
Found out I am not cut out for "HERMIT" material!
(NOTE: I did NOT have a boat.)


The year 1966 is one which lives in my memory, mainly for the events here described. Since I had come to Florida to 'be a hermit', for my vacation during the summer of '66, I determined to get a taste of the hermitage. So, for my two weeks in the sun and fun, I chose to get myself planted on a small spit of an island south of Marco Island--the objective, to 'play hermit' for a week or so...I think it was ten days?

I rented a tent, and all the equipment which could fit on a small boat, and hired a fellow to float me down to this 'sugar loaf' spit of sand in the Gulf of Mexico. And of course, it goes without saying that I loaded onto that little runabout several cases of beer, one case (12 quart bottles) of my favorite (the cheapest) vodka of the day and six quarts of Early Times (to compensate for my bland vodka dietary choice). Ice, many cans of tuna, some boiled eggs, heck I don't know what else, it didn't matter. Ants got to the food before me, since I mostly drank the first couple days.

As soon as my guide dropped me, and helped to unload my gear (don't break the bottles!), he sped away, maybe glad to be rid of me--with the promise that in ten days he'd return. Well, I was ecstatic!

I was in HEAVEN! I ran around like a crazed child, alone on his private playground. Me, the hermit! My dream of thirty years had come true, at least in "trial" form. I cavorted (yes, cavorted) in the water, bare-footed, and bare-ass'd. I really thought maybe the water there was contaminated, because it had a certain foreboding red color, all around me was this red-tinted water. It was THEN, that reality set in. I had been cavorting on an old oyster bed, and the "red" was my own blood. Yep, my (by now!) VERY sore feet bottoms were shredded.

Now I became scared...no doctor, no medicine, no First Aid kit...so first I took a huge pull from a vodka bottle, and knew that I was going to soon be wasting some of the precious liquid on my FEET. If whoever reading this is an alcoholic, they will immediately KNOW what absolute TRAUMA it was for me to pour vodka , AND Early Times (forgot to mention the Whiskey!) onto my feet. I cried then. Not the burning, but OH! the wasted booze, Oh! Woe is me!

So, for the next days (daze!) I walked about wearing a tee shirt wrapped around each foot, using a makeshift cane for support. I did not acknowledge God at that time very well, I mean He and I were at odds, at least I was.

Now, back to my first night. On the radio, it was announced that a Tropical Depression had formed over Everglades City, about 10 miles from where I sat, painfully nursing myself with the only anesthesia I knew, in the darkness of a warm, June night. Well, that storm came thundering full blast at my island, the water kept rising, I'd check it every half hour, and moved my tent several times that night, walking on two bloody stubs. I stayed very drunk, but could not avoid the dangerous situation which was before me. There was nowhere to go, no hills, and the water kept rising. In a drunken stupor I fell fast asleep.

You'd think my 'First-Night' story might end here. Wrong! Since this blong has become waaay out of bounds for a simple daily log reading, the "rest of this story" will be on my next posting. It's much more interesting than today's, so don't miss it. I promise!


Kelly said...

oh, the things we put ourselves through and endure in this life!

Findon said...

I cannot wait to read more about the adventures of Robihson Steveroni.

Kay said...

how does one find a desserted island these days??? hmmm....? Look forward to the Paul Harvey

Brian Miller said...

yeah, being newer to your world, i missed these first go round...look forward to seeing where this one is going...

Kim A. said...

It never ceases to amaze me when I look back at how different reality was from my own version. I could recreate anything in my mind and just carry on. I am glad I stick with reality these days--


steveroni said...

KELLY: Well, I thought I was having FUN!

FINDON: You're a Fun-ny guy!

KAY: One flies over the 10,000 islands (Actually 12,374) and notices there are thousands of vacant properties in God's world. Then, ya just pick one out!

BRIAN: EVERYONE is newer to my world, because I've been here longer--grin!

KIM A: Yep, ya might say we get to live two lives. Without the first, I'd never have found the second! Thanks for visiting here!

Sam Liu said...

Fascinating story, Steveroni. My, you've had some really unique experiences! Can't wait to read more about this :D

Jingle said...

jump start,
way to go!

Andrew said...

I remember you telling this story at Annie's two years ago. And I think I read it here then also.

Nevermind, it's a good story and bears repeating.

Syd said...

I remember the story. I like having a boat when I am done with my hermitage. It still reminds me of Skink in a Carl Hiasson novel.

Mike Golch said...

Steve,thank you for sharing this with us.Now for the painful part.I have you in the Recovery Blog roll and will visit with you thay way.I am slowly deleting every one from my reader.I have to due to healt issues.I hope you understand.

steveroni said...

SAM: These stories are my life, and I have maybe a hundred which are blogable...some even enjoyable. Thanks for coming here.

JINGLE: I DID just write a poem for Wednesday (oh, well...THURSDAY, I guess! Gotta visit you and find where to publish it.

ANDREW: Love you, Brother! (Peeps, he is my brother in spirit, OK?)

SYD: Those days (1960 something), I would have drowned myself, trying to cross the Gulf of Mexico--800 miles. But I got a boat soon after, and used it DAILY for years, we lived right on the water...HEAVEN!

MIKE: I am SO sorry to hear of your ill health, certainly Peeps reading here and elsewhere are praying for you now. Please visit when you are able.