 |
|
Photos
View |
|
All Photos |
Add Photos |
Emoticons |
Album View |
Mark Unread
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted By:
Hal Brown
Date Posted:
Nov 16, 2006
Description:
The sun was far too high in the sky to head home. I turned east and headed for the St. Johns River. In one of the many branches of the great stream, I spotted a sunken yacht. Oh, the tales this old boat could tell….
Date Taken:
Nov 16, 2006
Place Taken:
St. Francis Dead River, FL
Owner:
Dan Nickens
File Name:
Jungle_Cruise.jpg - Photo HTML
Full size - <img src="/show.php?splash=SZVQ10000h">
Medium - <img src="/show.php?splash=SZVQ10000m">
Thumbnail - <img src="/show.php?splash=SZVQ10000s">
Category:
244, Florida Fun Flying
|
|
|
|
|
Click on photo to view the original size. |
| Viewers
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Read what others had to say:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Dan Nickens - Nov 16,2006
Viewers
| Reply
|
| |
The old river has seen a parade of life over the eons it has wandered across the Florida coast. The countless stories it knows are mostly untold. There are some tales, however, so strange that they bear repeating on the odd occassion. The story of the wreck of “Heather’s Lace” has been told by the local newspaper. Now a SeaRey ending can be added.<br /><br />“Heather’s Lace” was once the flashy yacht of a prominent Sanford businessman. Herbert Bartholomew Smythe married into a family boot lace company. When World War II broke out, Herb’s company was ready. Boot laces raced from his factory to the bloody front lines.<br /><br />Herb had no compulsion to follow them. Working with his personal physician and a corrupt legislator, he managed a medical disqualification because of his “flat” feet.<br /><br />Life was good for Herb during the war. Though he had long been married to Penelope, he found the many unattended girls too tempting. His personal favorite was Heather.<br /><br />Herb knew better than to provoke his wife. The company had belonged to her family. She retained an equal share of its stock. He had to come up with a way to keep his dalliances discrete.<br /><br />The dark water of the St. Johns River offered a hiding place for his secret affair. At great cost he had a yacht constructed and named it “Heather’s Lace.” Since Herb knew nothing of navigating the twisting, turning waters of the subtropical stream, he hired a captain to guide his personal love boat. Many a warm summer night would find the gilded yacht idling through the steaming jungle with only the captain on the bridge to watch the murky waters. His passengers were rarely seen.<br /><br />Herb was generous with his love. He helped Penelope with money and investments for her future. She repaid him with boundless affections.<br /><br />All good things come to an end, just as the bad do too. Victory was declared and the demand for boot lace plummeted. Worse yet, the handsome heroes of far off battles returned to claim their places of honor. Heather was swept away by a Navy man.<br /><br />“Heather’s Lace” was relegated to a moldy port slip while Herb battled with financial insolvency. The captain was discharged and the boat’s maintenance was long neglected.<br /><br />Creditors were soon the most frequent visitors to Herb’s house. Penelope was indignant. She withdrew into her room, leaving Herb to his own devices. Herb grew more desperate with each passing day.<br /><br />Christmas time was no cheerful season for Herb. With his crushing debt and woeful prospects, he could see no easy escape. In his tortured mind he hatched a horrendous plot.<br /><br />It was Christmas Eve of 1953 when Herb told Penelope to they were leaving for an overnight cruise on the river. Penelope had never had liked the boat and was fearful of Herb’s ineptness with it. Penelope protested, but Herb would not be denied.<br /><br />Herb struggled to get the boat engines started. Despite the rough running, he managed to get the boat from the slip and headed down river.<br /><br />The old navigational charts the captain had left behind might as well have been indecipherable hieroglyphs to Herb. His time in the dark recesses of the cabin had not taught him the twists and turns of the old river. He was also unfamiliar with the many mechanical systems on the boat. Disorientation, added to the nervousness over the dastardly deed he had planned, produced an occasional violent shivering.<br /><br />The sun was low when Herb realized he had reached a dead end. He reversed the engines and backed into a submerged stump on the edge of the unmarked channel. One engine stalled, and could not be restarted.<br /><br />Herb attempted to turn the boat around with only one engine. It turned poorly and he ran aground among the trees on the opposite side of the narrow reach. He cursed as he futilely tried to back out. The boat was wedged in place.<br /><br />From down in the cabin, Penelope called to him. “You better come see this, Herbert.”<br /><br />“What now! I don’t have time to mess around.”<br /><br />“You had better find time to look at this. There is a foot of water in the galley.”<br /><br />Sure enough, the hull had been breached and water was rapidly rising in the cabin. Herb ran back to turn on the bilge pump. It was then he found that the bilge no longer worked.<br /><br />The sun slid from view behind the thick all surrounding jungle. In the quietly settling gloom, a horned owl hooted a chilling predatory challenge.<br /><br />Herb told Penelope to go up top. He went below to retrieve the pistol he had hidden below deck. He fruitlessly groped around in the chilling black water for the submerged case. The water proved to be too deep.<br /><br />Herb climbed back to the top deck. Penelope was matter of fact. “We’ll have to take the lifeboat and go down river.”<br /><br />“There is no lifeboat.”<br /><br />“No lifeboat?”<br /><br />“It is back at the boat slip.”<br /><br />“You’re such an idiot, Herbert!” Penelope was beginning to get seriously concerned. Hordes of mosquitoes buzzed furiously in their unrelenting search for bare skin. “What are we to do now?”<br /><br />Herb had planned to sink the boat and Penelope with it. The insurance proceeds would have set him up for life. Instead he decided he would have to make do with the money from the boat alone. For the moment, anyway.<br /><br />“I’ll take the float and go for help,” he replied.<br /><br />“And leave me here?” Penelope asked incredulously.<br /><br />“There is only the one float. I’ll stay and you can go for help if you prefer.”<br /><br />She didn’t.<br /><br />Herb found a flash light and took the floatation ring off of its cradle. He reluctantly slipped into the chilly black water.<br /><br />It was pitch black by the time Herb made the main channel. He was past shivering at the invading coldness. In the moonless night he could see countless eyes looking back him in the dim flashlight. Some slowly submerged with the wash of huge bodies when illuminated.<br /><br />Herb’s body was found floating the next day by some fisherman. The Sheriff was called and the body pulled from the water. It was missing an arm and a leg.<br /><br />“Reckon the gators got him, Sheriff?”<br /><br />“Looks like it, Joe. Maybe he died from the chill first. You just never know.”<br /><br />No one knew to look for Penelope. After a week, the slip owner contacted the Sanford police and reported the boat missing. It was spotted a couple of days later by a deputy surveying the river.<br /><br />The boat was resting on the shallow bottom of the back water reach. Penelope’s bloated body was found on the upper deck with a gun in her hand. She had shot herself in the head.<br /><br />No one has ever bothered to salvage the boat.<br /><br /><br />
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
