The 70's in Florida

The 70's - Kicker Bar - I’m sitting at the picturesque kicker bar overlooking the Homosassa River sipping on a cocktail when a tall gentleman followed by three of his buddies walked in and pulled up a bar stool beside me.  After a while, the tall guy introduced himself and he had heard of my last name from my Dad and Grandpa's guiding prowess.  At the time I was 17 and still living at home.

There was a dance floor next to the boat-shaped bar and every weekend starting at 9pm, a band would play some popular songs of the 70’s mostly fast ones so as to tap dance on the wooden parquet floor. Also, a few slow ones were played, so you could get close to your girl.  I'll never forget the guitar player, Steve. He would call out while on stage; Hammer-Wammer-Slammer-Jammer! That was me!

Our conversation halted as the band performed songs.   It was too loud to talk without shouting in each other’s ear. The fast dancers were first to shake a leg and it was free style but nothing dirty.  It was all eyeballs on the dance floor and quite entertaining. I did my share of it and was dressed to the hilt with my duds and high dollar dress boots that were dirty dishwater blonde.

When the slow songs were played, the majority of couples would step onto the dance floor holding hands and to snuggle up. The girls left sitting were examined by the men for a possible relationship. The band took a break and that's when a few guys scoured the tables for a single or two to start a conversation by offering to buy them a drink. Of course, the men did not mind getting close to the girls ears to ask for a dance while the loud band played on.

My brand new friend, Tommy, (the tall one) said with his gruff voice, “Hammer, I have a cabin down the river about 2 miles, only accessible by boat.  I know how to get down there.  But, I am starting a fishing club and the new members have no idea how to get down there.  I can’t see them driving my boat while drunk or bad weather conditions come in, like fog. They will get lost and either tear up my boat or worse possibly hurt themselves!”

Tommy further stated,” I would like to know if you would be interested in taking my friends to the island as they come in?”  Also, would you like to stay on the island where we have a small caretaker's cabin? In addition you could guide from my 24’ Pro-Line boat. Plus I will provide you with a small skiff for personal use.” I thought, this sounds pretty good but got to play it cool. I guess 5 seconds is long enough to say yes.

I had already bought an old 22-foot guide boat from Billy Trotter that was unfishable.  It was unrigged, no engine or anything, just a bare hull.  It sat in our front yard upside down for months. The $200 purchase was from money I saved from cleaning the guides fish catches brought in daily to Riverside Villas(RV). So, I sold the boat since I had use of a free one. One less thing to think about.

RV was built in ‘63 and quite the full service resort.  Progress, we don't want, is what some would say. The history and appeal of the decades old palm log cabin bait shop was torn down to be replaced by a much larger building; a bait shop and restaurant above it. Windows three sides on both levels to see the river and fishermen going by.  

Included at RV were 96 rooms within 4 villas, a big swimming pool, boat storage, of course mentioned above, the huge bait shop(where the kicker bar was added in the place of the bait shop) and a beautiful restaurant upstairs(My mom was the first waitress), the old past gave way to the new look of the Homosassa River.  The bait shop was moved behind the bar that included docks and a ramp that is still in operation today.

RV was Dad’s meeting place for his clients and where he sold his catches of mullet, a hundred pounds at a time to the restaurant.  I had to scale all these fish and after a while I got tired of looking at a mullet.  Fortunately, RV bought an automatic tumbler scaler and I was thankful for it.

The same year in ‘73, I was asked to work at Florida Power to help build the third power plant near Crystal River, a new nuclear power plant.  I began making money 4 times the minimum wage.  So I was rolling in the dough.  The new job at the Club guiding on the weekends and making at least $40 a day on.  I was a happy camper.  Life was good.

In the back of my mind, I wanted a guide boat of my own.  The Pro 24 owned by the club was the best back then, but independence is important.  So, I was riding down the river and saw a new wooden boat being constructed by Alvy Head.  The boat was just starting to be built. New wood was very appealing to me and I knew the type of skiff he was building.

It was a well-boat, meaning their is a well in the front center for the engine.  The purpose of this is to run in shallow water.  I could go on and on about the design.  Let’s just say it was the shallowest running boat made except an airboat.

I asked Mr. Alvy if he would sell me the new skiff.  He said, “Hadn’t thought about it boy.”  Well, he did for $600.  I painted it Forest Green with brown trim.  I made a box to sit on and bought a brand new 25 HP electric start Evinrude. I named it the "DUCKFISHER".  More on the boat at a later time.

The day I moved in, my belongings would fit nicely into a Glad bag from clothes out of my dresser. A few sweatshirts and a coat or two were thrown into the boat. Of course, my guns, ammunition and rod/reels were carefully placed and took up most of the space in the little 20' by 20' caretakers cabin that became my first home away from home.  With help, I built a small porch.  In retrospect, I would have not built it.

What I was allowed to do is move into the main cabin when no one was staying there.  I slept in every bed to see which one was more comfortable but they were all the same except for the view of the master bedroom.  

This log cabin was built in 1935 from rough-cut cypress.  And the interior was cypress as well, including all the furniture and bed frames.  The kitchen though was painted light blue and I supposed the bare wood must have become unsightly.

The water supply came from rain that fell on the roof and drained into a 5000 gallon tank from the gutters.  It was sweet tasting water and was reserved for drinking and cooking water.  River water was used for the shower and toilets.  I learned to take a shower with the bottom of the tide going out.  Fresher that way.

My favorite of the cabin was the beautiful fireplace.  I was quite naive about using oak as the main wood.  I don’t know why as my GrandPa would put a thick oak log before he went to bed. That was the only source of heat then.  Or maybe, it was because I knew where there were loads of lighter pine knots on the ground in the reserve that I collected all I needed in just a few hours.

Incidentally, everything had to be hauled three times to get it to the island.  But the pine was full of sap that you could light a piece of kindling with a single match.  And man, the heat it put out was intense and warmed the living room very fast.  Sometimes it was too hot but I would impress my friends who I entertained.  Finally, I gave into using cedar and I loved the popping sounds and sparks it made. There was a screen that kept the sparks from starting a fire in the living room.  This was a marvel, especially to those who did not own a fireplace.

Another vivid memory was the clay thrower situated on the dock that faced the river.  All the boaters/fishermen would go by on a plane, except when four of us are standing on the dock with shotguns, they would slow to idle.  That was humerous!

Of course, shotguns makes me think of ducks, quail, dove and back then some birds we should have not shot.  Crows were one of my favorites from the cabin as they went by in the late afternoon heading toward their roost by the flocks.  When you wound a crow, he sounds an alarm call, then the flock would circle and the shoot was on.  Crows are a nuisance and legal game.  My best friend, Buzz, was my hero and teacher back then, who I hunted with the most.  We were like peas and carrots they say.  But ole Buzz could call in the crows using his voice.