I am sitting at Starbucks in West Palm Beach this morning, listening to CBC Radio One in Toronto on my computer. The news report lets me get my fix of hometown news and mostly my sense of reality. Jill Dempsey has just told me it is presently minus 18C with a wind chill of minus 28. That sounds so real. Unfortunately, I am finding out about a terrible fire near Riviere du Loup, Quebec where a lot of people are unaccounted for and that Justin Beiber has been arrested.

It is 7:30 in the morning and it is 48 F. I mention this only because according to warnings here last night on the radio, we were being cautioned of dangerously cold temperatures; because of the possibility of abnormally low cold front extending this far south could lower the thermometer to the mid forties. The new term, polar vortex, is being used down here quite often as just the mention of it gives the impression that we are in for something quite severe.

The line-up I am seeing is a line up 20 deep at the counter. They have a mix of those pretending the weather is dangerous; some are dressed in wool caps, a "winter coat" - for which I would wear as a light jacket, and believe it or not shorts and running shoes. Apparently, at ground level the weather is warmer than it is four or five feet off the ground. Others are dressed in their business suits, as they were yesterday when it was 75 F. They are shivering and realize they should have adhered to those warnings the media was predicting for their benefit. I would like to stand up and announce what the weather presently is in Canada but expect that no one would care. Goes to show how isolated we are to the area by which we are surrounded.

It is no secret that the Intracoastal Waterway runs north and south down the Eastern seaboard, from Norfolk Virginia to Key West then swings west and north around Florida and continues west to Texas from there. It is mostly protected on the eastern Florida coastline from the Atlantic by barrier islands, except in places where naturally it is not. There are open bays and inlets to the ocean which provide fresh warm water, an over abundance of fish, dolphins, turtles and sea birds of various species. Using Cape Canaveral, and Orlando further inland, as a reference point and approximately where the Indian River commences and flows south (and north, depending on the tide) to the St Lucie Inlet; it was at one time home to the Seminole Indians. South of the Indian River through a land cut by which you can reach a long lake named Lake Worth. About halfway down Lake Worth sits a community most people have heard of, called Palm Beach on the island side and West Palm Beach, probably best known because it is the area of winter homes of the rich and famous some of which are well known; namely Donald Trump and Conrad Black, etc. There are thousands of others judging by the wealth the place reeks of.
Long before the Donald and Conrad, but soon after the Seminole Indians decided they didn't want the land anymore and "gave it up" to the Spaniards, costing them an extinction of their tribes; it was received by an American general, Andrew Jackson, on July 17, 1861. Yes the Jackson who previously had "pursued" the natives south out of Georgia. Since history is written by the victors, you can read our version of it yourself.

The interesting part for me in this area has been though, is about a guy named Henry Flagler who probably is single handily responsible for the modern day growth of south Florida. An entrepreneur from the time he was 14 years old, he became one of the partners with John D. Rockefeller in the world's largest and most profitable oil company called Standard Oil. He took his profits and formed the Florida East Coast Railway then built hotels in St Augustine, Palm Beach and Miami as well as places in between. He once owned the largest hotel in the world, the Royal Poinciana in Palm Beach, consisting of over eleven hundred rooms which were frequented by his rich and famous friends. It being the gilded age, it was chic, in fact essential, to portray ones wealth in a way larger than life. Next to the hotel he built a 55 room mansion as a gift to his third wife which is directly across the Intracoastal from where I am anchored on this "dangerously cold" day. This is where Henry impressed his rich, famous and influential friends who stayed at his hotel after they had travelled south in his railcars... on his railway, Stuart as previously mentioned being one of the stops.

Now for something different. Yesterday I took it upon myself to visit this mansion which now is a museum. I had read in a Waterway guide which I bought on-line, that you could pull up to the pier outside the mansion and be welcomed ashore to buy a ticket to take a tour. Dressed in my best nautical clothes, I set out on my trusty dinghy and sped the short distance across the lake and tie up to what appears to be an unused dock. Since nobody was there to meet me, I innocently walked along the shore until I see a break in the hedge surrounding the property where some construction was taking place. I strode across the large back lawn and up to the mansion and asked where the ticket booth was. A pair of older ladies directed me to the front gate where I went to purchase a ticket. That is where all hell broke loose. Within minutes of explaining to the attendant how I approached the ticket booth from inside the complex, security was all over me like a plague. Threatening me with arrest for trespassing, accused of having an "outstanding haughty attitude", a reckless disposition, and other matters of revolutionary intent, I explained how this might come across in an article I was about to write on an "international" blog. Needless to articulate on the superior treatment I received after they realized how their breach of security might look, they encouraged me to purchase a ticket at a reduced price and helped me move my dinghy to a place where it would be properly tied up and stated they would train a "special" security camera on it to ensure it remained untouched for the duration of my "visit with them". By the end of my stop-over these security tigers were pussycats apologizing for their initial treatment of me; their "special guest" I think I will be personally responsible for the increased security budget next year, for which seemed to please the director who personally came to bid me farewell. An innocent mistake but a mistake none the less. I will be more careful from now on. Goes to show you.. don't it?

I did tour the 50,000 sq. ft mansion though on a guided tour, then was allowed to roam freely for the afternoon around the grounds to Henry's railway museum, including his private rail car. The history of this place is exactly as I anticipated and had hoped for. It has been renovated to exactly the way it looked when the seventy year old Henry married his thirty four year old bride and lived there during the winters until his death at age 82 from pneumonia following a fall down the stairs and a broken hip. All of the rooms have original furniture and decor, giving the flavor of the private and servants quarters. All in all well, worth the visit. I was impressed with this place and that it lived up to my notion of the Gilded Age of my grandparents when the modern world was in its infancy.

The mansion is on the barrier island side of the Intracoastal Waterway, Palm Beach; where the rich came south from New York, Boston and other northern areas to escape the cold winters, similar to the barrier islands north of here in Georgia and the Carolinas where they escaped, to rid themselves of the heat. As I said, I am anchored directly across from the mansion in downtown West Palm Beach where the "servants" or "the help" as they were known, lived out their lives. Now the area is revitalized and has become the merchant downtown of the area with the banks, the shops, restaurants, bars and everything a funky tourist place ought to be. It is a great place to walk around and just people watch, check out the every kind of food and kitsch available. The cobblestone streets with flowery names like Clematis, Hibiscus, Fern, Iris, Rosemary and Olive, it begs to take me back in time when things were in a different time. Just another lovely place in the world to take a varied look at the world.
Just as a point of interest, in the marina just north of me are some of the largest privately owned yachts in North America. There are a at least a few dozen of them that are well over one hundred feet and most are three and four stories. I will post a picture I took of some of them as I passed by and now sitting beside.

Chances sits peacefully at anchor waiting to push south to add to my joy of living. She is a wonderful boat to give me a home while she makes sure I provide my restless soul with new adventures.
Until next time, keep warm. I will.