Ch 15: Miami Beach escapade.

               There was a very popular, sentimental Czech song about Niagara Falls. “An old tramp standing on the shore of the Niagara Falls, thinking of the time he was standing there with his first love…” Sometimes we sang it in a pub or bivouac on one of our weekend climbing trips. I would never occur to me that in two years I would be actually standing at the waterfall. 

It was the first day of my trip to Miami Beach so I was going to make the most of it. Like the old tramp I went down to the Niagara River, past the berth where the Queen of the Mist was docked and walked along the river towards the waterfall. I found a big, flat rock close to the river and pulled out my sleeping bag. The waterfall was roaring and I was thinking of my old  climbing buddies, my family and the girlfriend that I had I left behind and got homesick. Well, at least I was not just singing about the humming waterfall like my buddies, I was actually there hearing it roar!

I woke up very early in the morning, sensing that something was different. It was the waterfall, the roaring sound was gone ! I sat up and looked around. Instead of the wall of water coming down like the previous night, there was just a lot of water falling over the edge. And the river was way down from the rock I was sleeping on. Something had happened. Maybe natural disaster, like an earthquake, blocked the water flow? But I didn’t have time to inquire; my next stop was New York City. (It took me twenty years to find out what happened).

I was driving in a picturesque countryside through small towns, and suddenly I was in a city with skyscrapers, heavy traffic, big streets, bustling intersection, I arrived to New York City.  Somehow I managed to drive to the harbor, parked my car and did the tourist rounds….   I spent twenty sweaty minutes climbing the stairs inside the Statue of Liberty for a twenty second look through each window in her crown.  A much better view of the city was from the Empire State Building. Huge Central Park in the middle of the city was impressive. I was shocked when I blundered few blocks into a wretched Harlem with run down houses and idle black.  I walked down the famous Wall Street and it was dead on the weekend. There was a big parade in one street, maybe it was the Labour Day Parade. I remember the policemen in the parade, big, beefy, mean- looking cops; I would hate to get into their hands.  New York City was truly different; I had never in my life seen a city like that. Two days of sightseeing were plenty and I was off again to Miami Beach.

Baltimore City had a long tunnel under the harbor. I was driving through, with warning lights flashing with sign “Minimum speed 50 miles”, so I floored the gas pedal, nervously watching incoming traffic.  I paid the toll and was back on the highway when suddenly “TRRRRRRRR”, a terrible noise was coming from the engine. There was a bridge in front of me so I pulled onto the median. A little smoke was coming from the engine and it would not start. The traffic was roaring by and I was standing by my car scratching my head what to do. Eventually I decided to walk back to the toll booth, somebody would tell me what should I do.

A police car stopped, “You are not allowed to walk on the road!” I told the cop why I was walking. “Get in!” he said curtly and we took off. We drove all the way around Baltimore, through the tunnel, back to my car. I was eyeing the mileage, wondering if the cop was going to charge me for this ride. He checked my papers and told me to stay by the car, he would call a tow truck. The tow truck arrived and the driver started to prepare the tow. I tried to explain what happened and asked him where he was going to take me. He looked at me, expressionless and didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t understand my English, so I started again, slowly. The same result, not a word from him. On my third attempt he pulled out a little card and passed it to me. It said “I AM DEAF AND MUTE”.

He towed me to a VW dealer. I sat in his office while the mechanic checked my car. The dealer was a German and we chatted about the life in Germany when the mechanic came in. “It is a broken piston rod, it is not worth to getting it fixed. It would cost more than the value of the car.” That shocked me. I asked the dealer what I should to do.

“I could take the car off your hands.” the dealer told me, “It is a Canadian car, I could not sell it. It is only good for spare parts. I will give you one hundred dollars.” There was nothing else I could do so I took the offer. But I was still determined to go to Miami Beach, I would take the bus. I asked the dealer if I could leave my duffle bag with him, I would pick it up on the way home. “No problem, take the late bus so you can sleep in it.” he advised me. “If you want to kill the time now, go to Fort Henry, the American Anthem was composed there during the Civil War”.

The visit to Fort Henry was interesting and it was late afternoon when I started to walk toward the bus terminal. Suddenly I felt out of place. I saw only black faces and they were all looking at me, I was walking through the black section of the town.

I asked one trustworthy looking man for the directions to the bus depot. “It is complicated, I will take you there” he offered. We were chatting along the way and as we were passing news stands he asked me if I can read. “See if there is something about a murder on the front page.” There wasn’t and I asked him why he wanted to know. “I had fight with a guy last night and I think I killed him”. He said. I didn’t believe him. “Feel this” he said and put my hand behind his back. I could feel a knife handle. “That’s the knife, I hit him hard, maybe he is dead and the police are after me. Can I go with you to Florida?”                I carefully explained to him that I have no money because my car broke down. “OK, give me a buck, I want to buy me coffee” he said and we parted.

The bus arrived at Miami Beach early in the morning and I went straight the beach. In the distance I could see a large group of people doing exercises. They were mostly women so I went to check them out. I was shocked when I got close. They were all in their eighties, fit, full of wrinkles. Miami Beach disappointed me. Townhouses, condos, hotels and fast food joints stretched along a flat, sandy beach. In one side street was some sort of celebration going on, tables in the street, a band playing and people, mostly older, dancing. I sat down at one table beside an old man and asked him what was going on.

 “Not much, just a bunch of Jews got together and having good time.” he said “Where are you from?” We started to talk and I told him about my morning encounter with the exercise group. He laughed. “You don’t know anything about Miami Beach. People living here are mostly Jewish retirees. We moved here because of the weather. Where are you going to stay?” I told him that I wanted to sleep somewhere on the beach. “Be very careful, there are many gangs here, Miami Beach is not a safe place at night”.                   

I found a remote beach that looked safe and then returned to the tourist area, spending the rest of the day swimming and sun tanning. Night came and I went to my remote beach to sleep. I woke up at an early dawn and some hundred yards from me I saw ten guys, walking in an Indian file, looking at me. When they were gone I rolled over and went back to sleep. The sun woke me up and I looked around. My knapsack that I had used as a pillow was a couple of feet away and its contents spread around. I checked it out. My wallet with money, traveler’s cheques and documents was gone and so was my camera. I had been robbed! Luckily my German passport that was tucked in the side pocket was still there and inside were copies of my traveler’s cheques. It was Saturday morning and banks were closed. I went through my pockets and counted the change: Two dollars, I would have to live on it for two days.

Near my misfortune bivouac was a fenced Boy Scout camp, so I went to check it out. It was unoccupied and I found a hole in the fence! It would be a perfect, secure place to spend the next night. All I had to do now was to buy some food and kill the rest of the day. I didn’t want to carry my knapsack all day so I dug a hole near the sea wall and buried it, making sure I remembered the spot. Two dollars got me a loaf of bread, jar of peanut butter and a large bottle of Coke.

I spent the day walking around the town window shopping and swimming on the beach. After the dark I started to walk towards my campsite. Not too far from there I saw two men in white bright shirts. I barely passed them when one shouted: “Hey you there , stop police!” They came over to me and started asking questions:

“What are you doing here?”

“Nothing, just walking”

“Where are you staying?”

“Nowhere, I just…” “Nowhere? You have no place to stay? Do you have any money?”

“No I don’t, I have been…”  “You don’t have money? Do you have any weapons? Put your hands up!”

After I was searched I tried to explain what happened. “Shut up and get inside the car!”

“Just a moment, I have a knapsack over there,” I was frantic.

They walked me to the sea wall and I dug out my knapsack.

“You are under arrest. Get in the car!” One cop barked at me.

They ignored my questions about where were they taking me. I was bewildered; they arrested me for walking on the beach! I escaped to freedom from a communist country but even the Czech police would not treat me like that. I was slumped on the back seat of the cruiser, wondering again what was going to happen to me tomorrow, next week…