Humor & Everyday Life
Four Miles Offshore
After nineteen tracks of people trying to manage Florida’s iguanas, one reported Key West-area reptile was found swimming roughly four miles offshore — and suddenly I was rooting for the damn iguana.
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Four miles offshore Where the blue meets the blue Nothing but water And an afternoon view Sun on the Gulf Salt in the air Nothing much moving But the wind out there Then something ahead Where it shouldn't have been What the hell is that Looks like a palm frond Wait It's swimming Is that a fucking iguana Little head above the water Tail stretched out behind Four little legs Working overtime No tree to climb No seawall near Nothing but open water In every direction from here No branch No dock No mangrove shore Just one stubborn dinosaur Four miles offshore Four miles offshore Where you going, my friend Nothing out ahead of you But more blue without end Four miles offshore You got nothing to prove But that little green dinosaur Just continued to move Stroke after stroke Through the shimmering blue Four miles offshore What the hell happened to you Buddy Where did you come from Nothing Where are you going Nothing Do you have a plan Still swimming Okay That's fair Neither does Florida Maybe an outgoing tide Carried him away Maybe he got swept out Earlier in the day Maybe there's an answer Somebody smarter would know But from where I was sitting He had somewhere to go We've seen 'em in the treetops We've seen 'em by the pool We've watched one little reptile Make a grown homeowner lose her cool We've watched Florida chase 'em We've watched Florida feast But way out past the shoreline Was one determined beast No fighting No falling No headlines anymore Just one little green dinosaur Four miles offshore Four miles offshore Where you going, my friend You've been swimming so long And the water doesn't end Four miles offshore Under that Florida sun Whatever you thought You were doing out here You've done enough, son Ease up beside him Let the motor fall low Don't crowd him Don't scare him Just see where he'll go Then he turns toward the boat One stroke Then two Oh You're coming over here Aren't you Come on, buddy Give him a chance Let him make the call Claws find the boat And he climbs aboard Up on the cooler Wet Tired Alive Well I guess you're riding Motor humming easy Open water rolling by One fisherman up front One dinosaur catching a ride No bounty No battle Nobody keeping score Just getting one tired bastard A little closer to shore Doing okay back there Yeah Me too Mangroves in the distance Green replacing blue A shoreline finally looking Like somewhere he might get to Maybe he saw those branches Maybe something looked right Because suddenly that passenger Was getting ready to go Hey Wait Back into the water But this time close to land Swimming for the mangroves Like somehow he understood the plan Up through the shallows Out of the blue Back where a little green dinosaur Might know what to do And after four miles swimming After everything before There he was Back near the trees Not four miles offshore After five thousand One hundred ninety-five Here's one Just one Out there trying to survive And after spending Twenty songs Keeping score I gotta give it to you, buddy Four fucking miles offshore Four miles offshore Where you going, my friend Maybe you knew Maybe you didn't Maybe it didn't matter In the end Four miles offshore Under endless blue For the first damn time On this whole crazy record I'm rooting for you Keep swimming Keep swimming Almost there Almost there Little dinosaur Almost there You know I've got absolutely no idea How you got four miles out there But I respect the commitment Come on Let's get you closer to shore Don't you jump back in
Behind the story
Why This Song Exists
“Four Miles Offshore” surprised me because it is the moment this album stops fighting the iguanas for a minute. A reported Key West-area account describes a boater encountering an iguana swimming roughly four miles from land. At first, the shape in the water looked like debris. Then it started swimming. The iguana approached the craft, climbed aboard and caught a ride back toward shore. Near land and mangroves, it returned to the water and continued on its way. How it ended up that far offshore is not something the story proves. An outgoing current or tide may have played a role, but I am not turning somebody’s reasonable theory into a fact just because it would make a cleaner story. What we do know is strange enough. Four miles is a long damn way to swim when you are an iguana. And after nineteen tracks of invasive reptiles eating landscaping, occupying pools, knocking out power, falling from trees, waking up in cars, getting hunted and winding up on menus, this one landed differently for me. There was no battle here. No homeowner yelling. No government count. No pizza shop telephone ringing itself to death. Just one animal in an enormous amount of blue water, still moving because the only available plan was to keep going. So the music gets quieter. The jokes soften. For a few minutes, the “enemy” becomes the underdog. It is still Florida. It is still funny. But somewhere roughly four miles offshore, I stopped rooting against the iguana. I wanted the stubborn little bastard to make it home.
Why This Sound
After the album spends nineteen tracks escalating, this story needs air. Intimate acoustic island folk creates the first real breathing room on the record and lets one determined iguana become unexpectedly sympathetic before the final reprise brings the whole album back together.
- Collection
- Chicken of the Trees
- Sound
- Island Folk · Acoustic
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