Everett Whorton was many things. A building contractor, caretaker, air traffic controller, U. S. Coast Guardsman, harbormaster, Chappy Ferry captain, sailor, ramp rat at the MV airport, lighthouse keeper. That is by no means a complete list. Add in there shellfish connoisseur, El Camino owner, snow bird. Steinhatchee, Florida was his second home. The way he described life in Steinhatchee, I was wondering why he came back here for the summer. He said that there were nice folks in both places.

I inherited him as a Chappy Ferry driver from Roy Hayes. Everett was happy to disabuse people of their sense of Chappy entitlement. He subscribed to John Willoughby’s summer evening mode of operation. If it was a nice night, he would let a full load of riders congregate on the ferry before making a trip. As John would say, “This is the nicest spot in town. What’s your hurry to leave?”

He trained for the MV airport ramp job and kept up his caretaking and contracting work long after most people would be long retired.

He had a sloop named SALTHEART. His family maintains that saltwater ran through his veins. Everett was very resourceful at finding places for his sailboat to spend the off-season ashore. His final new career was as Gay Head lighthouse keeper. He looked very sharp in his uniform.

He was also a jokester. After 911, the Coast Guard began requiring waterborne personnel to have a Transportation Worker Identification Card (TWIC). We all got them. When going through the TSA security at a big Midwest airport, he handed over his TWIC card when asked for identification. He was told it was no good for getting through security. He pointed out that everybody working there had a TWIC card on a lanyard around their necks. Apparently, they didn’t see the irony as clearly as Everett did. He finally relented by producing his driver’s license but couldn’t resist saying that he was going to need to see their driver’s licenses as well. He said they didn’t see the humor in that as clearly as he did.

He volunteered to drive many extra shifts on the Chappy Ferry during a summer when we had a ferry captain shortage. I worked sometimes half a dozen shifts per week. It was pretty hard on my 65-year-old legs. Everett would work half of my six-hour shift to give me a break. And he did it on 75-year-old legs.

He was getting a little shaky and wobbly these last couple of years. But it didn’t stop him from tackling a project. He had recently lost two front teeth in what he called a car wrenching episode. That only made his smile all the more friendly. He was in the process of getting those teeth replaced. He planned to live long time. I was comforted to learn that he died at home in his sleep with his head on his pillow.