The Florida Keys are a beautiful string of islands curving off the southern tip of the Florida mainland, one of the most beautiful spots in the entire country. I was just a boy of twelve when I first rode down Route 1, the Overseas Highway, to visit my relatives. The year was 1960, a time of change in my life. Soon there would be a change in the lives of all who lived there.
Everyone in the country knows about Key West and the Seven Mile Bridge that spans a vast stretch of water connecting Marathon on Vaca Key to Big Pine Key. I was about to spend an entire summer with my aunt and uncle's family, a working vacation, my very first job. I would be a bait boy on a tourist boat.
The big concern for adults at that time was Communism, and the island of Cuba with Fidel Castro in charge lay just ninety-nine miles away. But as a boy I had been raised on the lore and wonder of sailing ships which plied the seas just over a century before. Romantic and adventuresome tales of sailors abounded in my head, although I was beginning to understand that the reality was far different.
The Caribbean had been rife with men who called themselves buccaneers. A bloodthirsty and greedy lot these pirates. The name evokes images of a black flag bearing a skull and cross bones. Tales of hidden treasure and the men who buried it: Blackbeard, Captain Kidd, Morgan the Pirate. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson was probably on every child's bookshelf, it was the stuff of my dreams.
To my delight I discovered that the not too distant past of Vaca Key and the other islands in the chain held their own secrets of pirate lore. These things were to keep me fascinated for many years, and now I get to bring them alive in a story for you, the reader.
This is a story of fiction. As much as I would like to lay claim to all these events as a reality of my young life this is not the case. My characters are fictional, except for certain notable and sometimes nasty historical persons. I have attempted to portray the landscape and seascape accurately to the best of my ability, but I am hardly a salt encrusted sailor.
And finally, this is a story for boys of all ages no matter where you might live. For once upon a time we all had dreams of our own Treasure Island. I hope you enjoy mine.
Chris James, 2010