Clarence Clemons they’re not.

In fact, if Bruce Springsteen’s legendary saxophone player could observe the contestants in Key West’s annual Conch Shell Blowing Contest, he certainly wouldn’t encourage any of them to audition for the E Street Band.

Some contest entrants attempt to make music through conch shells almost as big as they are. (Photos by Rob O'Neal, Florida Keys News Bureau)

However, while their musical talents might not spark Clemons’ admiration, it’s a pretty good bet their enthusiasm and spirit would.

Conch shell blowing is Key West’s most indigenous form of musical expression. In the 19th century, when the island city’s economy was largely based on salvaging cargoes from ships wrecked on the nearby reef, sailors attracted attention by blowing piercing blasts through the conch’s fluted, pink-lined shell.

Actually, Key West’s connection with conch goes far beyond instrumental applications. The slightly tough meat of the hardy mollusk is the prime ingredient in conch chowder and conch fritters, the island’s signature dishes. And native Key Westers proudly proclaim their tough, hardy nature by referring to themselves as “conchs.”

Every March, the strength of the conch connection is demonstrated in the Conch Shell Blowing Contest. Musical purists might argue that an instrument whose innards can be made into chowder shouldn’t be considered a true instrument, but that doesn’t faze the 50 or 60 men, women and children who compete every year.

Entrants’ ages vary as widely as their level of talent. From tots to octogenarians, they gather to test their pucker power in front of many dozens of spectators.

In the 2008 competition, a professional storyteller from Key West played a sea chantey and blew two conch shells at once to win the adult male division.

The contest's 2008 winner performed the amazing feat of tootling two shells simultaneously.

Clinton Curry, a fifth-generation island native who began blowing the conch shell as a toddler, played a traditional seafaring song before raising a pair of shells to his lips and blowing a melodic chord.

“It’s very difficult to play two shells at the same time,” said Curry, who also won in 2004. “It’s the correct positioning of the lips, taking a deep breath and then just blowing it out.”

Curry said he often plays conch-shell tunes accompanied by a mandolin-playing friend, and also enjoys teaching others to try their hand at mollusk musicianship.

His favorite pupil, his tiny daughter Parker Curry, was registered to compete in the contest’s division for girls under 5 — but ultimately she proved too shy to make a sound.

Contestants of all ages pucker up during the quirky annual contest.

This 2009 contest (the 47th annual) is scheduled for 1:30 p.m. Saturday, March 7, in a setting befitting its historic inspiration: the garden behind Key West’s Oldest House at 322 Duval Street.

Built in 1829 and now open as a museum, the structure was once the home of merchant seaman and wrecking captain Francis Watlington — a man who would have known a thing or two about using the conch “horn” for signaling.

Perhaps mercifully, contest participants won’t be judged on their musical prowess. Instead, local celebrity judges are instructed to evaluate the quality, duration, loudness and novelty of the sounds they produce.

Some people consider the Conch Shell Blowing Contest to be Key West’s answer to the New Orleans Jazz Festival, while some irreverently call it the “conch honk.”

Oddly enough, both assessments have their truth.

Most entrants produce only unmusical squawks. A few, however, amaze the crowds with melodies as complex as Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” or the theme to “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

They might not be Clarence Clemons, but for a brief moment they echo his musical passion.                      

Topics: Events, Florida Keys, Highlights, Key West, Keys History, Keys Quirks, Local Color

The artist tilts her head to one side, seemingly considering where to place the next brushstroke, as watching art lovers wait in anticipation. Suddenly, she stretches her glistening gray body out of the water and swipes at her “canvas” with the paintbrush she holds in her mouth — and another dolphin masterpiece is finished.

At Dolphin Research Center, art lovers can work with friendly dolphins to create one-of-a-kind wearable art. (Photos courtesy of Dolphin Research Center)

No, “dolphin masterpiece” is not a typographical error.

In the Florida Keys, visitors and residents can mingle with indigenous six-toed cats, “basket hounds” that travel everywhere in their human companions’ bike baskets, free-range chickens and roosters, tiny geckos whose presence brings luck (but generally not “a 15 percent discount on your car insurance”) and parrots, macaws and cockatoos of virtually every hue.

Hanging out with this land-based menagerie, however, is definitely not the most unusual “animal encounter” to be experienced in the individualistic island chain. In fact, in the Keys, it’s possible to paint T-shirts with a dolphin.

Dolphin artistry is just one of the attractions at Dolphin Research Center, located at mile marker 59 bayside in the Middle Florida Keys. Founded in 1984 as a not-for-profit teaching and research facility, DRC is home to a family of Atlantic bottlenose dolphins and California sea lions. The center and its staff specialize in behavioral and cognitive research, educational programs and interactive sessions that expand visitors’ knowledge and appreciation of the gentle, intelligent marine mammals.

DRC’s Paint With a Dolphin program allows participants to interact closely with dolphins living and learning at the center — and help them create one-of-a-kind pieces of wearable art.

Human and dolphin artists forge a bond during the collaborative painting session.

Paint With a Dolphin participants first spend individual time with a DRC trainer and one or more dolphin artists — perhaps enthusiastic Tursi or lively Merina — that inhabit the property’s interconnecting saltwater lagoons.

After observing a behavior session with the engaging bottlenose beauties, program participants are introduced to the “artists” and begin assisting in the creation of the T-shirt — choosing paint colors and holding the shirt stretched on a form for a dolphin to paint. The trainer mixes the paint, puts the brush into the dolphin’s mouth and encourages the artistic experience.

Typically, everyone involved reacts with glee as the artist circles, swipes paint on the T-shirt and, upon completing the creative task, screams in excitement. The session ends with the dolphin and human artists posing for a photo with the shirt — a keepsake about as far removed as possible from the typical “tourist” T-shirt souvenir.

The Paint with a Dolphin program is open to adults and kids — even those as young as age 3, though a participating adult must accompany each “artist” younger than 8 years old.

Want to know more about creating T-shirts, and lifelong memories, with Dolphin Research Center’s friendly dolphins? Click here.

Topics: Animal Ambassadors, Arts, Florida Keys, Highlights, Keys Environment, Local Color, Marathon

He was desperate when he wrote the poem, and his desperation lingers in the lines nearly 150 years later. He had every reason to despair, imprisoned in Fort Jefferson, America’s largest and most remote coastal fortress, on a tiny Gulf of Mexico island 68 miles west of Key West. One night, after another day of forced labor under the blazing sun, Union Army Private Thomas Moran sat in his cell by candlelight and spilled his soul out onto a scrap of paper.

The poem was addressed to Major General Nathaniel Prentiss Banks, commander of the Union’s Department of the Gulf. It outlined Private Moran’s wartime service and undeserved incarceration, and contained a wrenching plea for freedom.

“I fear not the duty/Nor battle’s loud strife/But I care on Tortugas/To pine off my life,” the poem reads in part. The urgent refrain rings as compellingly today as it did when Moran wrote it: “My voice from Tortugas I ask you to hear.”

Fort Jefferson lies on a tiny island in the Dry Tortugas, nearly 70 miles west of Key West. (All photos by Rob O'Neal)

Private Moran’s is hardly the only voice emanating from Tortugas over the years. Fort Jefferson, begun in 1846 but never finished, housed numerous soldiers and prisoners whose journals and letters provide a vivid picture of life on the barren coral-and-sand islands.

Among them was Sergeant Harrison Herrick of the 110th New York Volunteers, who penned spare and unvarnished diary entries: “Friday May 6th. In the morning while the prisners on the Thames were comming ashore one of the guards, one of the 1st Del Artillery shot himself through the head he was crazy wether fair & plesant.”

No voice from Tortugas rings more lastingly than that of Dr. Samuel Mudd, imprisoned after being convicted of conspiracy in Abraham Lincoln’s assassination. His only tangible “crime” was setting John Wilkes Booth’s broken leg.

“We are still in irons,” Mudd wrote in December of 1865, “compelled to wash down six bastions of the Fort daily. However, we are allowed to purchase articles of food, etc.”

Later, Mudd was released following a yellow fever epidemic when he treated and saved the lives of stricken soldiers. His captors were so impressed that they petitioned President Andrew Johnson on his behalf. 

America's largest masonry structure, the fort welcomes visitors who arrive by boat to view the Tortugas' natural and historic wonders.

Since the Dry Tortugas area became a national park in 1992, scores of voices have been heard from its shallows and islands — those of park rangers, historians, divers and naturalists, birdwatchers and travel writers.

A trip to the Tortugas takes visitors into a realm untouched by modern civilization, yet unmatched in historic and natural wonders. Most travel by excursion ferry from Key West, heading past Boca Grande National Bird Sanctuary, Marquesas Key atoll, the site of the shipwrecked Spanish treasure galleon Nuestra Señora de Atocha and Rebecca Channel.

During the crossing, passengers can sun themselves, listen to the cry of seabirds and watch the water shade from azure to Caribbean turquoise.

Eventually the Dry Tortugas appear, low against the horizon. These seven undeveloped islands were named Las Tortugas (The Turtles) by explorer Ponce de Leon in 1513. Awash in pirate legend and wild bird life, they soon became known as “Dry Tortugas” because they had no fresh water.

As visitors arrive by boat, the fort appears low against the horizon.

On Garden Key stands the 19th-century fort. Its construction was begun after American leaders realized that fortifying the Tortugas was essential to control navigation in the Gulf of Mexico. During the Civil War, the fort was a Union military prison for captured deserters. It was abandoned by the Army just a few years later.

In 1908 the area was designated a wildlife refuge. Named Fort Jefferson National Monument in 1935, it was later proclaimed Dry Tortugas National Park to protect its natural richness. More than 280 avian species have been sighted there, and the park attracts thousands of birders to observe the annual migration.

Entering Fort Jefferson, centered on an island hardly larger than its exterior walls, is like stepping back 150 years. Six-sided, its three levels loom up against the sky. Its millions of bricks are touched by the sweat and determination of the men who placed them.

Visitors can take a complimentary guided tour of the fort: stepping inside Dr. Mudd’s cell to feel the prison chill, peering through the gun casements, observing the panorama of sea and sky from the structure’s open third level.

Visitors to the park can snorkel the crystalline water surrounding the fort.

Afterwards, they can picnic, swim and snorkel in the crystalline waters, laze on the secluded beach or stroll along the moat surrounding the fort.

Around mid-afternoon, visitors begin the return journey to Key West. On the way back, they might spot frolicking dolphins, observe a soaring avian dance, or reflect on the lives of Private Moran, Sergeant Herrick and Dr. Mudd — and all the others whose voices still echo from the Tortugas fortress lost in the past.

“My voice from Tortugas I ask you to hear …”

Topics: Florida Keys, Highlights, Key West, Keys Environment, Keys History

The 2008 hit film “Beverly Hills Chihuahua” fetched some pretty impressive box-office sales figures. Even so, the pint-sized pooch who “starred” in the flick isn’t any more engaging than the Chihuahua quartet that presides over Strike Zone Charters, a leading dive and snorkel excursion business on Big Pine in the Lower Florida Keys.

Corona chills at Strike Zone in a classy pair of "designer" shades.

In fact, the diminutive dogs are so popular with Strike Zone clients that they might one day eclipse Key deer as the Lower Keys’ unofficial mascot. (The miniature Key deer, an endangered but rebounding species, have been protected within the boundaries of the region’s National Key Deer Refuge for more than 50 years — and their likeness appears on everything from souvenir T-shirts to the chamber of commerce logo.)

Strike Zone’s Chihuahuas, however, don’t need protection. Even dive shop co-owner Gayle Tippett admits that the engaging little critters — whose wardrobes include sunglasses, life jackets, holiday costumes and collars featuring authentic Spanish treasure coins — are spoiled rotten.

Tippett, who was given the emporium’s first pup to save it from incarceration at the pound, began the spoiling process on day one.

“Her name is Needa because she needed a home, she needed a mother, she needed a bed and she needed to go to the vet,” said Tippett of her canine companion.

Strike Zone's Gayle Tippett (on phone) keeps a fond eye on the costumed canine preparing to greet customers.

One Chihuahua somehow led to another. After Needa’s many needs were met, Strike Zone co-owners Mary and Larry Threlkeld acquired Javier and then Corona, who was named for the Mexican beer. Not long ago, puppy Madison joined the Strike Zone dog pack.

"Superdog" Javier is ready to tackle any job.

Though tiny in stature, all four dogs display larger-than-life personalities. And despite being spoiled, they have regular “jobs” — such as welcoming customers who stop by the shop and supervising when divers, snorkelers and water enthusiasts depart on one of Strike Zone’s catamarans.

“In the afternoon our VHS radio goes off, and I can be on the phone and all of a sudden I hear this barking, because they can recognize our captains’ voices on the radio,” said Tippett. “You open the door and they run out and greet the passengers.”

Occasionally one of the Chihuahuas might ride along on a catamaran under the watchful eye of a Strike Zone captain — or even attend the quirky Underwater Music Festival held annually in Lower Keys waters. Like other passengers, the dogs have their own “shades” and life jackets (the latter with little handles so captain and crew members can pick them up easily).

Three of Strike Zone's cool canines wait for customers. (Note the collar featuring an authentic Spanish treasure coin.)

Unusual as their boating garb is, it’s the canine quartet’s collars that spark the greatest number of comments.

“A friend of ours was one of the discoverers of the El Cazador Spanish ship,” said Tippett, referring to a centuries-old shipwreck found off Louisiana loaded with silver coins. “All of our dogs have gold chains with El Cazador coins, which seems to attract people’s attention.”

Clearly, Needa is needy no more. She and her Chihuahua cohorts have become Strike Zone’s tail-wagging ambassadors, delighting customers who arrive to dive and snorkel the Lower Keys’ underwater wonders and living coral reef.

“Strike Zone is well known for being the home of the Chihuahuas,” said Tippett. “We’re even having a T-shirt made with their pictures on it.”

Topics: Animal Ambassadors, Big Pine Key & Lower Keys, Highlights, Keys Quirks, Local Color, On the Water