2025—The Bigger Boat Tour

“Take a Bite Out of Cancer”

June 7th-13th, 2025

$$477,493 was the total raised, including Sylvester’s .50 :1 match.

This year’s funds will be directed to further research by Sylvester in a variety of projects: Renal & Colon project, a Lymphoma project, & one that focuses on Sarcoma Cells.

We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Boat Tour Report 

By: Steve O’Brien

Day 1, June 7th: “Playing With the House’s Money”

Castaways Beach 6:00 am. Winds out of the southeast at 6 knots,  Lib ty y wind, calm seas.

The Gate is unlocked…Thank you, Jesus! We have cleared the first hurdle; a few years back, arrangements were made with the Miami-Dade Parks and Recreation Department to have the gate opened for us in the predawn light so we could get this “circus off the ground,” I said to no one but myself.

However, my angst was unnecessary. As the rising cacophony reached my ears, I became relieved by the noise generated by Steve Frigo’s volunteer road crew, logistical support team, and camp followers. I witnessed, in awe, as his worker bees mindfully assembled tents, powered up sound systems, and toted heavy bags of ice, lovingly yelled at each other, and obediently carried out their prescribed tasks. I detected the delicious smell of freshly brewed Castaways' coffee, baked goods, smoothies, Cuban pastries, and other forbidden delights. I heard merchandise being put out for display. I witnessed the unfolding of “Old Glory” along with assorted Castaways designs, pennants, and banners that would soon flutter in the gentle breeze coming out of the southeast. It all reminded me of a saltwater county fair. I stood in absolute awe.

 Steve Frigo and Armando Sanz issued orders and instructions with complete authority and confidence to the ready volunteers who labored in complete symmetry. Napoleon Bonaparte once said, “An army runs on its stomach,”  and the paddlers are so grateful for our friends who make this “show” possible every year.

Slowly, as the promising dawn began to break, one could witness the growing number of light-blue jersey-clad crowds start to swell in numbers. With the crackle of the P.A. system, Steve Frigo announced, “We will begin in 10 minutes.”

This announcement snapped me out of the surreal and dropped me right into the reality of this thing we started 26 years ago.

Captain Eric Pino addressed the audience, and Mrs.Dania Exposito gracefully led the opening prayer and blessings. Our old friends and doctors from the University of Miami's Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center came forward as we continued our 5-year pledge with them. Dr. Trent proudly underscored that grassroots fundraising is a key integral part in finding a cure for cancer.

 Jamie Lemus (newly-appointed Captain of the boats) issued his final instructions to the paddlers before marshalling the team and escorting our Guest of Honor, Jeanette Dovales, for the ceremonial first stroke.  

The following paddlers launched off Castaway Beach at approximately 7:42 am:  Steve O’Brien, Eric Pino, Patrick Linfors, Paul Kumer, Omar Beceiro, Jaime Lemus, Roger Dabdab, Caleb Eisenberg,  Greg Trainor, John Di Rossi, Sebastian Mas and rookie paddler Javi Hermedia, who is the former Captain of the Castaways Cycling team.

The team gilded effortlessly past the iconic Stiltsville as the weather and water conditions were ideal and would reach our first destination, Soldier Key, in good time. We anchored on the north side of the key and dined on the most fantastic submarine sandwiches prepared by Mercy Selleck, a most delicious treat indeed.  Here, the Ibis boarded a boat, Captained by Juan Carlos & JC Mas, and headed for shore. Sebastian would paddle with us along different legs of the trip.

After lunch, the team passed through The Safety Valve of Biscayne National Park, a fascinating and beautiful series of shallow sand flats and tidal flow channels that act as a natural drainage system for storm surges from Biscayne Bay. Located between Key Biscayne and the Ragged Keys, it allows water to drain from the bay into the ocean. This area was named the "Safety Valve" by Ralph Munroe, an early environmentalist who campaigned against construction that would block the free outflow of storm surges.

Making good time, we recognized the lighthouse at Boca Chita Key and would arrive at University Dock (not too far from Sands Cut) before 4:00 pm., where the Columbus High School boaters were preparing a happy hour celebration for us. We were cheerfully greeted, where the boater's hospitality couldn’t help but put us in a good mood. With no small measure of sadness, we had to depart from our friends and extended Castaway family and make the final push on to Elliot Key, approximately another 5 miles south. The winds were favorable, making for a leisurely paddle. 

 The Castaways landed on Elliott Key around 5 p.m., and the first wave of paddlers reported back to us that “the mosquitoes were not bad!”

How is this possible? We had record rainstorms the week before; could our luck be holding? In past trips, we have had paddlers take a solemn oath that they would never camp out on Elliot Key under any conditions (even with mosquito netting), and so far they have not broken that oath.

After setting up camp on the point, we quickly settled down to wait for Carter Burrus, Carlos Luis (former Castaway day-paddler), and their friends in one boat, and J.C. Mas with Sebastian and Juan Carlos (J.C.’s older son), in their boat, came to dock as well. Our wait was not long at all. We know our friends have a history of spoiling us.

Carter brought sandwiches, refreshments, ice, and other unexpected goodies. J.C. 's crew prepared grilled steak bits with vegetables, which were cooked to perfection. Certainly beats a warm can of Bumble Bee Tuna, hands down, which for most paddlers is the standard fare. Just before a glorious sunset, we thanked our dear friends and settled down for the night. Some stayed up and enjoyed the company, while others did not and retired to their tents…..I was one of them.

As I lay down for the night, I reviewed the day's events, and a subtle smile came over me, filled with a sense of gratitude and pride in the team's accomplishments, which had culminated in  a perfect start for Day 1. 

I felt that we were “Playing with the House’s Money.

Day 2,  June 8th.  “Little Friends”

June 8th. At precisely 3:50 am. I bolted straight up in my tent and began the survey of my aches and pains of the first day’s paddle. John Del Rossi, who had set up his tent next to me, greeted me with a cheerful, Good Morning, Sunshine. John, who is an avid outdoorsman and recently moved to Boulder, Colorado (Second-year paddler), was already close to breaking down his tent and preparing for a quick exit off the island to beat the mosquitoes, who were marshalling their formidable forces to remind us of who really was in controll of the island.

Around 4:45 am or so, the Castaways eagerly shoved off into almost complete darkness, hurrying to close this chapter of our Love/Hate relationship with Elliot Key. Each paddler was equipped with headlamps and glow sticks  that were placed on the bow and stern of the boats. Thankfully there was only a light wind with  a light chop, but because of the darkness, it still required due care and attention to our situational awareness. Paul Kumer and Jaime Lemus did a magnificent job of shepherding, communicating, and keeping the fleet together and free from trouble.

This Sunday’s dawn was magnificent, and in the morning quiet it whispered the promise of another perfect day. What seemed like just a couple of hours later, we found ourselves happily landing in the shallows of Pumpkin Key.

The way I understand it, a pioneer named Tom Lowe gave Pumpkin Key its name because he could grow pumpkins there, as there were no rodents to eat his crops. Tom Lowe and his son, Matt, made their living by catching fish and turtles, harvesting sponges, farming pumpkins and melons, and raising bees extensively. After being greeted by the island caretakers, we retired to the Seminole-style Cheekee, where the team ate out of their dry bags, rehydrated, enjoyed the comforts of modern plumbing, and socialized with each other and our host. 

The team was in good spirits. 

After lunch we departed for the winding and turning Steamboat Creek passage, in good measure we spotted our old friend and FWC officer Ian Barnett’s patrol boat (Columbus High grad.) as we prepared to turn south into the green waters of Barnes Sound the team held their collective breath as we came into the Sound and did not see the expected white-capped rollers that  foretold of a difficult crossing. The waves we encountered gave us a nice push closer to the mouth of Jewfish Creek; it seemed that the team was  still  very much in Lady Luck's good favor. 

Original Castaway, Patrick Linfors, who was piloting the red tandem, dropped the volume of his Bruce Springsteen song and brought my attention to a fast-moving white dot off our starboard side. That small dot materialized into Armando Sanz’s trusty sport boat ladened with plenty of cold drinks and a big smile from his loving family. Not long after we came alongside, another smaller boat came  along our port side. This vessel was  carrying Chiqui and Cristy Alonso, along with even more beverages, with the mission to check on our progress and spread a little good cheer. Our “Little Friends” ensured our sometimes treacherous crossing was safe and kept the team’s morale high.

We made it to the north entrance in record time and disembarked into the shallows to cool off and discuss the chances of an early landing. At 3:00 p.m., we came ashore at Amoray Dive Resort on MM 104. As we went into the mouth of the entrance, Peggy called out…”This is a record: you have never arrived this early. I don’t even think the beers are cold yet.”  After a brief dip in the pool, Javi Hermida’s father, Santi,  brought a full tray of  unexpected, but well-received, beautiful Spanish sandwiches. No sooner had we finished this culinary delight when  Mercy Selleck rang the “dinner bell” for yet another five-star home-cooked meal. I began to wonder how much weight some of us would gain on this trip.

After dinner, we encountered our first bit of bad luck, while transporting my Seda Glider kayak, from Miami (which was scheduled to see action tomorrow as a “day-tripper.”) .The rear hatch cover was lost , now rendering the kayak non-seaworthy. Since the company based in southern California stopped making boats in 2019 to focus on manufacturing auto parts, the chance of obtaining a replacement part was slim at best. There are no such things as problems…only solutions. Jamie began to employ his engineering degree to fashion a temporary hatch cover out of plastic bags and zip-ties. It worked like a champ. 

It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last time, that Captain Lemus’ engineering skills got us out of a tight spot.

During World War II, the term "Little Friends" referred to the Allied fighter plane escorts that were crucial for protecting the bombers from enemy fighter attacks, and the bomber crews gave them the affectionate nickname.

Day 3,  June 9th.  “Shark Bait“

After a good night’s rest, the paddlers assembled on the small beach at the hotel and welcomed our friend Heather, whose friendship dates back to the days when we were associated with the American Cancer Society, and she had been a day paddler with the team back in 2019.  Heather Utset would be paddling from the front seat of the red tandem, and I would  switch and paddle the recently repaired Glider. Patrick Linfors gave the morning benediction. The weather was discussed, with some cloud formation building  and the winds were beginning to pick up to about 10 knots coming out of the southeast. The team paddled past the former Marriott hotel and towards the sanctuary of Dusenberry Creek as the winds began to increase a bit, but nothing we couldn’t handle.

Sometimes when you are paddling with the team, your mind begins to pick up little nuances about your fellow paddlers, which may have escaped your observations from previous trips.  For example, Roger Dabdab is arguably the most technically proficient paddler on the team. He has a practical and effortless stroke,  slightly dipping his shoulders to achieve more thrust, and can paddle effortlessly for long periods. His boat resembles a marriage between a kayak and a late-model Ferrari. Low profile, beautiful lines, with Kevlar construction, which provides strength and reduces the weight of the boat. Omar Beceiro also has a state-of-the-art ship, a Tiderace sea kayak which is hydrodynamic in every sense of the word, a mixture of Kevlar and I believe fiberglass, letting  the boat glide through the water effortlessly. Omar sits straight up in the saddle, and his posture greatly contributes  to the efficiency of his graceful paddle strokes. As we turned south into the channel, I snapped out of my daydream  into the present moment as we approached the mouth of the mangrove-laden Dussenburys pass.

As we exited the channels that led to Buttonwood Sound, the wind intensified slightly, and the paddlers began to “lean into the wind” for possible passing showers, which thankfully never materialized.  The team hurried across Buttonwood Sound to come to our usual stop at a Salty Piece of Land (also known as “The Patch”). This is a welcome spot where one can disembark from the boats, stretch their legs, and grab a quick snack. Interestingly, if you review the old trip photos from about four years ago, the “Patch “ had an elevation of about six inches, and approximately seventy to seventy-five percent of the coral and limestone was above the high-tide mark. However, the patch is now constantly inundated with seawater. Global-warming? Further research is required.

It was an easy push to Casa Mas, where JC and Vivian hosted the team with a pork lunch and Cuban coffee. The day was just stunning, a perfect painting of blues, azures, and whites. One could just admire the sky and the water down here and be completely content with life. After a generous lunch, the team gathered to bid a warm farewell to our “day paddler”, Heather, and her husband, Arthur. Heather was out with us to pay tribute to her beloved mother, who recently lost her gallant battle to pancreatic cancer, also known by her “Castaway” tag: Shark Bait—an interesting moniker because of her lifelong phobia of sharks. Wait … the tour name is “The Bigger Boat Tour,” an obvious left-handed tribute to the 1975 blockbuster movie, Jaws. What could possibly  go wrong? I could just imagine Captain Quint, the movie’s  infamous shark hunter,  casually saying, “ You go inside the kayak?.... Kayak goes in the water…. You go into the water. Sharks are in the water. Our shark!”

I prepared to return to the red tandem with Patrick. Greg would retrieve the kayak on his return home on Friday and would drop it off at my house in Miami.

Sebastian’s boat was gently  dropped into the water, and “Ibis” would paddle with us for the rest of the day’s  leg.  Suzy Curry from Marathon Key would  also drop in for a portion of the remaining leg.

Steven Speilburg, the director of the Movie Jaws, reported that it was a difficult movie to make. The project was over budget, seriously past the expected deadline, and the mechanical system, a great white shark, failed to work eighty percent of the time. The mechanical problems with both of the  tandem's rudder systems  and one of our GPSs were also problematic.

J.C. Mas gifted the team a bottle of his favorite  and rare tequila, which would only be used for medicinal purposes, like treating a bite.

Stomachs full and morale high, we pushed off toward Toilet Seat Row. Making good time and shifting into a full-paddle mood, for we still have many miles to go. We settled into the task at hand…just pushing water behind us. Some paddlers listen to music, while others do not. Your mind simply enters that rare state of acceptance of the present moment. Some have those conversations with themselves that they have avoided for a long time. And some just relish every second of the experience. Suddenly, the trance is broken by the throaty sound of an F-16 Air Force jet flying over us with authority and purpose, not once, but twice. Wow! Those old Cold War warbirds still bring it. Sebastian turned to me and gave me his trademark knowing smile. I started to laugh out loud over the improbability of the air show that had just occurred over our heads.

At Toilet Seat Row, Captain Pino labored to replace the old faded  Castaway toilet seat with the new replacement seat. This airbrushed masterpiece was painted years ago by a friend of Jeff Croucher ( retired paddler ) who was a gifted  professional artist who specilized in adding  some flare to deep sea diver’s helmets and those of arch welders. Patrick cheered when he found a toilet set bragging about  the Garden State  of New Jersey. Shortly after I started singing  the infamous NFL fight song; “ Fly, Eagles, Fly” when I spotted a toilet seat representing the new  Superbowl Champs, Philadelphia Eagles.  With the sun starting to sink in the west, we knew it was time to get back in the boats. We bid farewell to Suzy, who paddled with us for a leg of today’s journey as she peeled off for Veterans’ Park, where she would get out of the water. Captain Jaime took the lead along the route past Whale Harbor and to La Jolla Resort. The team greatly  enjoyed a short rib lasagna feast, while watching the Florida Panthers’ playoff game.What could be better than relaxing in the tiki garden of Islamorada Brewing & Distillery. Even Joe and Peggy got a well-deserved chance to relax. 

God Bless Peggy and Joe. God Bless the Road Crew.

Day 4, June 10th.  “Houston… We Have a Problem.”

We launched from La Jolla and took the back county route towards Robbie’s for breakfast. There had been a slight change in the barometer, and the skies were becoming partly cloudy, causing thoughts of retrieving the rain gear to begin to formulate in a few of the paddlers. Along the way, Patrick conducted a radio interview with a local Keys radio station while paddling. Is there nothing Patrick can’t do? We met the Road Crew at Robbie’s for breakfast, and Sebastian pulled his boat out; he would rejoin the paddlers later on in the trip. In the past, the team would take a break at Anne’s Beach on the ocean side. However, now that we approached from the bay side, Eric, Jamie, and Omar commenced repairs on the yellow tandem’s rudder, which was now becoming somewhat problematic.  The rest of the crew took refuge in the white sand shallow water in the shadow of some imposing houses. Lucky for us, the repairs did not take long, and we were shortly on our way towards Fiesta Key and then on to the Long Key Viaduct.  The team took an in-boat break next to Fiesta Key. A discussion began to develop: Option One was to paddle the traditional route, which is about a mile or so along the west side of the bridge and compensating for the west-bound current. Option Two was to paddle maybe a half-mile from the bridge, with the idea that in case those grey clouds developed into something ominous, we would have a better chance of bailing out if we got into trouble. My suggested idea was that if we took the inside route, not only would it be much less boring, but we would have the bonus of allowing the current to push us out to the shallower waters of  Rainman’s Rendezvous, which was located about halfway down the aqueduct. The team decided to experiment with the inside route. Patrick, Paul, Roger, and I were making excellent progress. Eric and the rest of the team were about 600 yards behind us, but out of our field of vision

I was startled when Patrick’s Walkie-Talkie came to life with the message that the second squad was going to take out to the original route. There is a lesson to be learned here, and Team One learned it well: When in doubt, go with Greg’s ( Rain Man) dead reckoning skills, which have been tried and always true in the past over and over again. Secondly, never trust the team’s GPS when it reports that” you are only fifty yards away “ from your destination! It was the makings of the proverbial perfect storm. I hadn’t realized  the fact that the tide was slack. It may be  convenient, but not wise,  to trust your electronics even when your instincts tell you otherwise. A decision had to be made quickly. Paul enquired, “It's your call, OB, what do you want to do? Crap, General Lee divided his forces at Gettyburg and lived to regret it. “ Let’s paddle out to the others and regroup, I called out.

The sting of choosing to  make a course correction and adding at  least a mile to an already long day,  was lessened when we were able to make it to the rendezvousWe were joyfully greeted by Richard and Suzy Cury, who traveled by boat to hang out with us.

Richard and Suzy knew it was time to  depart. The team with a bit of hesitation, because everyone was having a great time and happy about how  the weather never became a factor, boarded their kayaks and prepared for the final hump towards Grassy Key.  The team landed with plenty of daylight, got the boats on dry land, and enjoyed a dip in the hotel swimming pool.

That night, we had our traditional gathering on the water's edge to debate life's great questions, starting with who were some of the greatest Rock & Roll Bands of the Sixties? Did the CIA employ LSD as a weapon in their spy craft? A few satellites flew by in the flawless sky.  Loud voices ruled the night, and funny stories were told and retold with corrections. Some paddlers went to bed, and some stayed up late enjoying each other's company, knowing full well that after the trip, some were traveling back to New Jersey, Colorado, and northern Florida. 

All things considered, it had been a good day. What would life be like without good friends?

Back in the 1970’s for all of us who were old enough to remember, NASA had a very close call when Apollo 13 got into serious trouble on its way to the moon. Only through sheer determination and “ thinking outside the box” did America’s heroes return safely to the earth. I was stunned to learn decades later that a Texas Instruments calculator of the 1980s had more memory and applications than the computers in the Apollo moon rockets. 

Day 5, June 11th.  “ Frank Buffett “

The team slowly gathered and went through their usual routine. Some had breakfast at the picnic table, and some ate on the run as they packed their boats. Trying our damnest, we cautiously launched their kayaks on the algae-laden boat ramp at the Gulfview Waterfront Resort.  During the morning prayer, Patrick’s message served to center us on the fact that daily inconveniences and unspoken sacrifices serve a higher good and that our cause is just. On mornings like this, thoughts of my mother come to mind. Has it been twenty-six years since our last conversation? There are so many things I wish I had said to her. 

The team was a bit disappointed, as we entered Vaca Cut and the incoming surging currents that the Vaca Cut Fairy (Steve Frigo) due to his work schedule would not be broadcasting our approach on a portable P.A. and consequently not be lowering down to the paddlers with a plastic buckety and string from the upcoming bridge span the fabled treasurey trove or consisting of the  “Square Grouper “ of hard green-American cash, warm cookies, and the team- favorite, frozen crayola-colored popsicals.  As the team paddled towards Sombrero Beach, we saw a few rays on the flats, but were more focused on the 2-3 foot waves that were beginning to break against our bow quarter panels. Nothing we couldn’t handle, but you had to be vigilant.

 Upon arrival at Sombrero, we had a spread of tuna and veggies for lunch (facilitated by Chiquita) and debated the forecast for the 7-mile bridge crossing. At least we were not getting the caliber of winds that forced us to cancel this leg of last year’s paddle. PFDs and spray skirts were mandatory, and we discussed our formation for the crossing, which called for the tandems in the front and the rear of the pack while Richard would be our Fail-Safe shadowing us in his dependable motorboat.  Before Google, there was Rainman, part calculator, part boat mechanic, part crystal ball, and full-time problem solver. As the team began to regroup and make way, Patrick and I paddled up with our red tandem, and I inquired, “ Rain Man, how is crossing going to play out?” Well, the beginning is not going to be too bad, but once we get to Mosser Channel, that’s when the screaming will start. What!? He quickly smiled and stated, “I’m just quoting a line from the movie, Jurassic Park.”

The crossing was everything we expected. But even as white-knuckled as the crossing can be, we were making  good progress. From the front seat of the tandem, It was my responsibility to  keep my head on a swivel, to  watch the rookie, Javi, but he was pushing through the water without any problems.. But then  realized he was taking on some water into the cockpit due to an ill-fitting spray skirt. Slowly the outline of Molassess Key came up about an hour later, and Javi landed without incident, which was  a relief.

 When we were about half way through the crossing Patrick's Radio came to life…”Boat Over. Omar has gone over.  We have recovered him, proceed forward”. Captain Pino was calm, cool, and collected. I reached out to Omar before writing this report, and he stated, “ I wish I could break it down into a detailed account. “I simply broached in quartering seas. Pino pulled off the rescue without a hitch.” 

Two weeks before the mission, Paul, Eric, Omar, and I took out the rookie, Javi, and taught  him a few tricks about paddling and  deep-water rescues. A while back, Roger had taught us  all about open-water rescues, paddle floats and cowboy entries. Poor Roger,  he is always trying to improve our skill set, but we are just  like school boys who just want to skip class. Thank you, my friend , some of your lessons got through.. We tried out the new Orange colored rescue throw bag; it's like an umbilical cord from one boat to another, so you can bring the stricken boat closer to the rescuers. We had mixed results. But this was in calm flat waters. Later, I asked Javi “ if the crossing had freaked him out at all”. His answer was a “keeper”: That was great, I want to do it again sometime soon . This guy is a born paddler.

“I waited 52 damn weeks for this moment,  so don’t screw this  up for me!” That is Patrick’s mantra from two years ago, rightfully describing the anticipation and excitement of the  Molassas Key Experience. Upon arrival at Molasses, Frank and Monica greeted each of us warmly, and we celebrated those special moments  Castaways are infamous for. (Some details have been deleted to protect the not-so-innocent.) When the time was right, Frank and Monica were invited to join us, as Patrick invited a team member to say why we paddle.  A circle was formed, and the real meanings behind why we’ve done this for 26 years once again enforced the love and respect we have for each other and those we paddle for.. But then the moment had come. The moment we had waited for. All of a sudden Patrick and myself looked to the skies and in our loudest voices summoned  Odin, and the spirit of all great Nordic gods and paddlers. We  broughr forth and presented the rookie...and with a thundering  loud chorus, Odin, do you find him worthy?” Odin, Do You Find Him Worthy?

“ The wind and the waves will carry me, The wind and the waves will set me free.”

Lord Odin smiled upon Javi finding him most worthy. He was bestowed with his Castaway’s name: Cortez. A proud Spaniard who sailed new lands and burnt his own bicycle forthwith to pledge his allegiance to this maritime band of misfits. (Until you get “patched in, and receive your “colors,” none of this will make any sense. We’re like a not-so-secret society).

Eventually and reluctantly, the team knew it was time to reboard our kayaks, and my conversation with 

Suzy and Richard, concerning the joys of getting older, had to be cut short. Then it happened…out of nowhere, Frank stepped out of his houseboat, which is anchored on the shoreline into his little adjacent John boat and presented a six-string guitar and gave us an impromptu concert. Frank had spent the majority of the last six months living on the island. During this time he perfected his skills and had written some songs. The lovely Monica introduced  “Frank Buffet” …we laughed, we screamed, we cheered, we sang.

“ Slow and easy on Molasses Key, where it's breezy. Takin’ it easy down in the Florida Keys”

Next, Caleb came up to the guitar, and the impromptu concert continued. We were blown away. I had no idea how talented this young man was! His music reminded me a little bit of Bob Dylan and a little bit of  Darius Rucker.

Clouds were gathering, we were over an hour late, and the waters towards Bahia Honda were a bit sloppy. It wasn’t practical to sleep on the key.   On the way back, we had to put Roger’s training into practice again. Hindenburg (Paul & Caleb) and Pino pulled off a “thickened edge” T-Rescue by coming together to increase leverage while performing the T-rescue. Harmless. Quick. Fun. All was resolved, and home we headed.  We beached our boats, hopped into cars, and went to the St. Columba Episcopal Church, which we affectionately call “The Abbey.” Suzy prepared us a home-cooked southern style chicken dinner that was just made are victory dinner even more special.  In a large room that resembled a modest army boot camp of the 1960s. The team laughed, talked, began to wind down, and most fell asleep and began snoring… very loudly.

Day 6, June 12th.  “No Picnic at Picnic Key”

The day began with a boxed breakfast that Chiquita facilitated for us at the Abbey.  The team waited no time diving into hard-boiled eggs and bagels with cream cheese. Some went through the ritual of preparing energy powder alchemies, others took that second cup of coffee. We then piled into the cars and a van and headed south out to Bahia Honda.  Pastor Debra led us in the opening prayer.  Such a lovely and spiritual woman, and we always enjoy having her with us.

On the way to  Picnic Picnic Island. Patrick suddenly lost the guidance system on the Red Tandem. The rudder unit broke and dislodged itself from the housing. “ I got nothing …I can’t steer,” Patrick reported. Dammit, it’s 2024 all over again when we suffer a similar problem. We were able to limp into Picnic Key, where proper repairs could begin.  Jamie explained to me during a conversation at the bar in Key West about the significant forces between ocean water currents, the weight of the boat, dynamic tension, and other mechanical mysteries of the universe that were at work trying to undermine the integrity of our rudder. It was a fascinating conversation. Jamie has an engineering degree. I barely got out of high school algebra. 

“ What do you mean it’s gone?" I cried. The 72 foot double decker party  houseboat that was semi-permanently moored off the island had been allegendly removed by order of the State of Florida as an environmental hazard. I cannot verify this information. But what I can attest to was the fact that two years ago, Roger and I were invited aboard by Captain Jack. The Captain was larger than life , a shirtless 300 pound pirate who was adorned with a gold chain that sported a rather large silver coin from the Atocha shipwreck of 1622. A man who supposedly spent 7 years on this boat and hosted the wildest party in the Keys.

At least I still had a commemorative Yeti cup that bore images of unruly party guests who most likely  didn’t go to church on Sundays.

 The news got a wee bit worse; the Castaway engrved wooden  paddle sign that Captain Pino’s dad had made and  Mr. Ventura, (A Columbus High art teacher and Castaway) had decorated and after Paul  laboriously nailed into a tree was no longer there! We deduced that it wasn’t foul play, because some other decorative signs that dotted the island were also missing. Most likely bad weather with high wind was the theory. With repairs completed  and gear packed, we departed this wonderful little spit of land and headed south.

As we approached Tarpon Creek, the team navigated the currents of the S-Bend, where we stopped for our usual break and began to act like tourists. We swam to get out of the heat. Some set up chairs with their toes in the outbound current and just really relaxed. In due time, Suzy paddled in and joined us in the fun.  We took pictures with the In Honor banned and we paddled towards Sugarloaf Lodge.  The sunset at the Sugarloaf Lodge was spectacular, ran into some old friends, and the team reminisced about the infamous days when the tiki hut bar was open.

Day 7, June 13th.  “ Son of a Son of a Sailor” -Jimmy Buffett

OB led us in an opening prayer.  OB, Eric, Paul, Caleb, Rainman, Roger, Jaime, and Sebastian launched on day 7. The tides were favorable and did not come aground in the shallow waters. After a few more miles, we took a break and watched as some rain was rolling in from the oceanside of Key West. Some of us broke out the rain gear and knew our luck had been beating all the odds so far. It is a long stretch, but slowly the outline of Key West appeared, and we had missed most of the rain. We arrived with great anticipation at Flemming Key and promptly dropped anchor in the shadow of the US Army's Special Forces Underwater Operations School, where the difficult Combat Diver Qualification Course (CDQC) is offered. Paul makes it no secret that this Special Force’s locale is one of his favorite stops of the week.  Knowing that, the team gifted him with an official Combat Diver’s embroidered patch with its daunting Diver Helmet, with the cross dagger, and sharks. It was are way of saying thank you for his years as Captain of the Boats. We also presented Jamie with a small crystal decanter of Tequila and welcomed him as the new Captain.  We took our final break and looked south to Simonton Beach, just a couple of miles away. To.  We discussed landing arrangements and coordinated with the support team ashore. The excitement, the cheerers, horns blowing, the noise-makers, even a Castaway flag proudly displayed for the Key West Fire Department Hook and Ladder high above the beach, was enough to bring a tear to your eye. The paddlers landed on Key West at 4:00 pm with the red and yellow tandems holding the Conch Republic flag stretched out between the bows. Leading the way, they were followed by Jaime and  Patrick, who joyously announced to the crowd that we had successfully landed. I was greeted by Firefighter John Michael , a 2019 Columbus High grad. (Sebastian, did you arange for the Key West Fire Department to come out for our arrival? I am so impressed, my friend.)

Hugs were had, kisses exchanged, and brief stories were told as the paddlers saw loved ones and teammates that they hadn’t seen in a week.   Captain Pino toasted to his team and the crowd (and onlookers at the beach) for another successful year.  Orders were issued: “Boats had to be stripped,” which is the last thing any paddler wants to do amid a celebration. And loaded, strapped onto the vehicles..  There wouldn’t be a lot of time to do this because the   Cyclists and Runners were going to converge on the beach at any time.  

Here they come! The runners wearing their unmistakable flamboyant Castaways running gear, still running an excellent pace, came closer and closer to the finish line at the end of Simonton Street. The closer they came, the louder the crowd became! The moment they crossed the finish line, our heroes were mobbed by laughing and some crying family members, fellow Castaways, children, and people that I have never seen before! It was spectacular; tourists from the beach cheered, residents from the nearby balconies cheered, and the police and firefighters cheered. Everybody cheered. How could this crowd have anything left in the tank to greet the bicyclist when they came through the line?  Their arrival was what was predicted to be only a few minutes away. That question was answered in short order as the crowd erupted as the first three riders made the final turn for the home stretch. Did fans react like this at the Tour de France? 

All the Castaways retired to their hotel rooms, enjoyed the best shower of their lives, donned their favorite Hawaiian or Castaway shirts, and came downstairs to the hotel's oceanside deck. As the sun began to set, Captain Eric Pino and former Captain Patrick Linfors stepped up to the microphone to begin our traditional Flower Ceremony. The dock at the Hyatt Centric was packed. It was one of the biggest crowds I can ever remember….maybe the biggest. Captain Pino and Captain Jaime invited numerous Castaways to give testimony on why they paddle, run, cycle, and landlubbers.  Emotions were high, and my eyes always start to water a bit when I am invited up to share a reflection or two. Steve Frigo is working his magic as everything is going perfectly as planned. The  In Honor Banner, and the candles that were placed before it by the Castaways and those supporters, survivors, and those who have lost loved ones, old friends from the American Cancer Society, and those who quietly understand why tonight is so solemn and special.

After a few moments of silence and somberness, all who were gathered expressed love for one another, and inquired “ how they could join our team”. But the conversations are kept short so we can make our way to Papa’s Pilar to do what Castaways do best, celebrate life, tell stories,  threaten to get a Castaway tattoo, and all that good stuff. Designed with an Ernest Hemingway decor…how can you go wrong? At this point, I retire to my bed as the younger partygoers make their way to Irish Kevin’s and beyond. I’m consoled by the fact that all the Key West tattoo parlors are not within walking distance of our hotel.

The day we landed in Key West was my grandfather’s birthday, Gerald O’Brien, an Irish immigrant who served in the U.S. Navy during World War I. We lost him in 1962;  My Father served in the U.S. Navy during the Korean War era. I was born on the naval Base in Key West when my dad was still in active service. We lost my dad in 2017 (a cancer survivor, but was diagnosed shortly before his passing). Funny how the mind drifts and the stories you tell yourself when you're out there on the water….I wonder if seawater is in our family’s veins, and I wonder if the Castaways would have happened if my family had never moved to Miami. I’m sure the Holy Spirit would have found some other poor soul to do it!

-Steven O’Brien 7/2/2025.

• To check out the Cyclist Trip Report, click here and here for the Runner’s Report.