Bubba Justice by Robert Betts

Florida Keys,
City of Marathon, Florida
in the United States,
Violators of Human Rights

Bubba Justice...

I was asked to write this by a friend who is a fellow Florida keys resident, who was trying to piece together the story from various sources. This friend asked me to write this summary about life in the Florida Keys so people could know the truth... all of it. My articles for "Time Out Magazine" contain bits and pieces but each article was limited in size so it was impossible to write the whole story. I am not going to try here for literary style, just to present the facts as I know them. An aside here is that I also have a very deep spiritual base and trust God to care for me. I would not lie ever, it is against all I believe in and I truly would go to jail first.

My name is Robert Betts, age 54. I'm 5'11" 145 lbs, rather slim. I live(d) on a sailboat in Boot Key Harbor, Marathon, Florida in the Florida Keys. In my 54 years I have never been arrested and have never had anything more serious than a traffic ticket. That is until I moved to the Florida Keys County known as Monroe but often dubbed "Moron" County.

Tourism and Law enforcement are the two major industries in the Keys. Law enforcement is named as an industry because here it is quite obviously that the object is to arrest and convict every person who inhabits or visits these islands. Yes, tourists also.

In fact there is a saying here:
Come to the Keys on vacation
Leave on probation
and be brought back in violation.

Quite frankly you are about as safe visiting the Florida Keys as you are visiting a third world country.
Jail, probation and even meals in jail are charged to the person incarcerated. There is no medical care in prison except if you pay for it. It is very lucrative and hence you will very likely be considered guilty before any trial takes place. When you are brought into court, it is with manacles, leg irons and distinctive prison garb. For felony offenses? No, A friend refused to sign a traffic ticket. He was arrested and appeared in court in the same attire described, including leg irons... for a traffic ticket.

I moved into Boot Key Harbor in Marathon, Florida about 10 years ago in 1991 or 1992, can't remember for sure and my logbook is also confused, since it usually takes me a few months to get the new year firmly implanted. I came here by boat from Bridgeport, CT singlehanding a 41' Gulfstar Sailboat which I owned. I left CT at the end of January during the gale season and had quite a few interesting (and scary) adventures along the way, but that is fodder for other stories. I have stayed simply for the climate, which is quite nice, but at what a price!

My previous background is somewhat unimportant
but I'll give a brief summary:
1964 graduated High School
1964-1967 US Navy, stationed in Spain, learned fluent Spanish
1967- 1970 Went back to Spain to court my wife and got married
1971-1974 College, Corning Community College, A.A.
State University of NY at Binghamton, B.S. Chemistry
1974 divorced from 1st wife
1975-1980 Consumer Reports, writer, product tester
1980-1984 Another marriage and worked at a printed circuit bd mfg.
1984-1986 Repaired spectrometers for a Boston Co.
1986-1991 Repaired spectrometers as my own Co. Lectro Serv

Back to the story:
I settled in the harbor aboard my boat and lived rather quietly until it was repossessed. I just couldn't make the $600/mo payments on the meager wages in Marathon. With a friend's helpful intervention, I moved to The Peace Inn and lived there for about 6 mo. Roger, the friend, sold me a 19 ft powerboat hull for $1.00 and I fixed it up. Another friend and I stretched thin plywood over it, Quonset hut-style and then dubbed it "The Clorox Bottle." We floated it and I was back in the harbor.

In July 1994 I started a business delivering water to boats anchored in the harbor. I expected it would be a reasonable success but alas that was not the case. I began to learn that many of the local live-aboards were little more than 20th century pirates and many had severe addiction problems, which crippled them. Saving money to feed their addictions, they would not buy water from me so the business provided little income in the summer.

The business itself was very low budget. I had practically no working capital so at the start I used my 8 ft dinghy and towed another 8 ft dinghy behind with one 55 gal barrel in it. During the tourist season the demand increased and I got other dinghies to tow, which were larger and capable of three barrels. Tourist season here is from about Jan 10th to mid April.

Lacking a harbormaster, I was the only fixed presence in the harbor. I took this seriously and helped countless people with emergencies and often helped the Coast Guard and Marine Patrol, who are stationed a few miles away, to find boats in the harbor. I was on the job 24 hrs a day and would get up and go out in any weather to render assistance, often to people who didn't have "Thank you" in their vocabulary.

When I had the 8 ft tow dinghy, a Canadian man named Ron DelVecchio offered to sell me a boat, which would have worked fine to tow. He wanted $150 but allowed me $75 trade for the 8 ft dinghy. He said try it out and if it worked I could pay him whenever. I asked about title since I always only do things the proper legal way. He assured me he had a clear title. Ron has had a drinking problem ever since I met him By 9:00 am he is always drunk. Someone in the harbor told me that demands had been made on Ron for moneys owed so I wasn't real surprised to see him approaching. However I was rather shocked to hear his foul mouth and accusations that I never intended to pay, since he had treated the matter so casually before. I asked to see the title and he showed it to me. Nowhere on the title did his or his wife's name appear. He offered to have his wife forge it and I told him there obviously was no deal since he misrepresented the boat. I also do not deal in forged instruments in any way. I took the boat back to his anchored boat and asked for mine. He refused. I simply let the line to his go and told him do whatever to retrieve it and that I would get mine back. I called Florida Marine Patrol, showed them my original bill of sale (from the pawn shop where I bought the 8 ft dinghy) and asked them to get it for me. They did. Ron has despised and threatened me many times since that day. His threats have included killing me and sinking my boat.

In 1995 or 1996 I had a unique spiritual experience, which convinced me that God exists and cares about each and every one of us, again this is another story but it reinforced the high level of morality, to which I aspire. Lord knows I don't always get there, but I try.

Soon after I started the water business I started a publication, which I called "Marine Life Magazine." I gave it to the cruisers and live-aboards in the harbor at my expense. It contained recipes, stories, poetry and some ads from local businesses. People liked it and I got quite a few complements. I no longer publish it in hard copy version but it is on the web as Marine Life Magazine at http://marinelifemag.com. The ideas and principles are the same, short stories, recipes, poetry and a few other things.

About four years ago, through the help and dedication of a wonderful friend, Michael Quinn, I was able to move from the Clorox bottle into the home I now have, a 32 ft sailboat, which I have named "Sailboat." Michael died three years ago and the world is a much sadder and lonelier place from this loss, but again, that is another story.

About 1998-1999 Doug Bartlett moved into the harbor. He began to use the water service but was always putting me off for pay. I obliged and let him pay whenever he could. As time went on I began to realize that his lack of means had more to do with his drug habits than any other factor. Nonetheless, I patiently awaited payments and continued to deliver to him even though he was often far behind in paying.

Valda Morton also came into the harbor at more or less the same time. She is originally Australian, moved to Canada then came to the US from there. She became a customer also and there were no payment problems. She came to my boat two, maybe three times and observing reasonable courtesy I invited her aboard for tea. She had no problem at all scrambling aboard even though my boat is rather high sided. She did however reveal that she is not quite a lady, in the particular exposing of her "goods" while boarding. I was quite embarrassed for her. I have since learned she claims disability... I saw none.

Bartlett wanted to buy Clorox and I agreed to sell. He paid in installments and I held title until it was paid in full. Meanwhile he destroyed the interior and cut holes in it to use it as a tank for tropical fish. He moved to Dockside and tied "Clorox" in the mangroves. I knew this to be illegal so I called Florida Marine Patrol and asked Lt Langley what I should do. He told me that the boat was in my name and therefore I was responsible. The Lt. implied that I should repossess and I did. Bartlett called the sheriff and they came aboard a Coast Guard Vessel toward me at Boot Key Bridge. I went to them and asked what was going on. Rodriguez and Gonzales, the deputies, threatened to arrest me for grand theft if I didn't return the boat to Bartlett. Grand theft... for "stealing" a boat titled in my name, even though they admitted it was a civil matter and wrote that on the report. (I have a copy) They promised a receipt when I took the boat to Bartlett and then refused to give me one when I asked for it.

Bartlett, who has a very distinctive voice on the radio came on many times after that and threatened to kill me and sink my boat.

As a writer I write. I am not afraid to take on law enforcement people who are obviously incompetent. I wrote about the officers in the October 1999 issue of Time Out. Coincidentally, as you will see, within a month of the article I found myself under arrest.
Ms Morton meanwhile was moving from boat to boat. I began to realize her drinking problem was at the root of her problems. She finally bought a boat for herself and I congratulated her on it.

Another gentleman Dale Hammer called me one day on the radio and asked me if I wanted a mast. I had one for "Sailboat" but it needed work and parts. I expected I could make one good one from two bad ones. What was left could be cut for a compression post for my boat. Happily I agreed. I picked up the mast from Dale at Cannon Marine where he subcontracted. Cannon had nothing to do with the matter at all. Dale told me he had sold the boat to Ms. Morton and that he made it clear to her that nothing above decks was included in the sale. In fact he showed me the pushpit, (stern railing assembly) which he had used on his own boat. I passed by Bartlett's boat on my way back to my boat and the trouble began. Bartlett saw the mast and instigated Morton to start trouble about it. When she came to me I offered to be cooperative, specifically I asked that she buy whatever parts I would have needed and acquired from the mast and then she could have it. She simply demanded "her" mast, whereupon I informed her that it was now my mast. She approached me several times about it in various states of inebriation.

An incident took place at Pancho's Fuel Dock, somewhere around mid-October of 1999. I was getting fuel and Ms Morton came at me threatening to have her boyfriend beat me up. She was drunk, or should I say reeked of alcohol. Roger Prieto, who works at Pancho's, observed the incident in its entirety. I told her that I would no longer deal with her in any way, to stay away from me and my boat, and that if she had a problem about the mast, she could leave me alone and sue the person she felt had wronged her. She got angrier and threatened me more.

By this time I had learned from several of my customers that she was working in conjunction with both Ron DelVechio and Doug Bartlett.

Despite my warnings to leave me out of it, she came to my boat anchored in the harbor on October 26th
I heard someone bang on the side of my boat...loud. It is customary to shout "ahoy" "yo" or a similar expression. Never in the time I delivered water did I ever knock on the side of anyone's boat. I was in my bunk reading; usually it's the Bible I read in my bunk so that was most likely what I was reading.

I clamored out of my bunk, no easy task, and looked to see who was there. It was a man I didn't recognize. He was calling me "Iceman" the name I used on the radio for the water business (I also delivered, ice, sunday papers and pizza). He acted as though he knew me but I had no idea who he was. I later learned his name is Karl Meinake. I came on deck then peered over the side to see Ms. Morton there. I told him I was just fine until I saw her. And then I told him to leave. I told him I felt threatened. He refused and kept on talking and holding onto my boat. I insisted many times that he leave and he refused. Ms Morton stood up and grabbed the pillars on my hard topped bimini and commenced boarding me. I screamed at her "Don't Even!" and she sat down. Again I insisted they leave. Again I told them that I felt threatened. Again they refused. I saw a clutter in their dinghy and began to wonder if they had weapons aboard. They easily could have. The man was at the front, Ms Morton in the middle and a young girl at the engine. I began to wonder if the girl had been instructed to drive around while they clamored aboard and did to me whatever they wanted.

I then jumped below decks, got my shotgun and returned... very quickly. I stood it on its butt on the cabin top pointing straight upwards, holding it by its pistol grip. I never moved it from that position. It is a single shot Stevens, old, hammer type. The hammer was down, not cocked. I never placed my finger in the trigger guard. I handled it as I have been taught... with absolute safety.

Again I insisted they leave... loudly. Again I told them I felt threatened. Again they refused. Ms. Morton giggled and said, "He's got a gun (giggle, giggle) I can't believe he's got a gun." I then realized she was either drunk or high on something and again I insisted they leave... again they refused. I withdrew inside my boat, sat on my sofa and shook in fear, afraid they would board me and I would be forced to use the gun. Finally they did leave. I immediately called Florida Marine Patrol and explained what had happened. They told me that I had handled the situation and they felt no need to send a boat.

Case closed? Anywhere but Moron County, Florida. Several customers told me she had been seen immediately after the incident at the County Marina having a discussion with Ron DelVechio. She was also seen with Doug Bartlett. Between the three of them they hatched a plan to have me jailed. After the consultations, two days after the incident Ms. Morton went to the police. The rest as they say, is history.
I asked Roger Prieto, age 24, to testify to the threats Ms Morton had made. He said he would ask his "Mommy and Daddy." Next day he told me they wouldn't let him. I told him, "No problem, I'll subpoena you." He told me, "No problem, "I'll lie." He did. Didn't see a thing.

Other witnesses? More or less the same. In the more than a year that it took to bring to trial some died, some lied, some had convenient memory lapses.

Someone later poured a bucket of fish guts over the water boat. I called the police fearing contamination of the water. The deputy grinned and said, "You take bad water to someone. We'll arrest you." Not said, but perfectly obvious from the deputy's expression was, "and we won't bother looking any further." I folded the water business as of that day and now visiting cruisers no longer have someone to deliver water to them. Thousands hurt by the malicious acts of one sick individual and a very corrupt legal system.
The police, obviously, were more than happy to arrest me which they did on November 6th of 1999. I have demanded my constitutional right to a speedy trial ever since and have been denied this. 1 year, two months and 10 days later I finally got a trial.

The original charges were assault with a firearm which carries a MANDATORY 10 years in Florida for each count and with three in the boat they charged me with three counts... for a total of 30 years. Very recently I was offered the option of accepting lesser charges, "improper display of a firearm," a bench trial and promised that it would involve no jail time. I was also informed I could still plead innocent, though little did I realize they planned on deciding my guilt before the trial. With Ms Morton's threats combined with her collusion with Bartlett and Delvechio I had little choice. To refuse would put me at risk for a minimum of 3 yrs in prison (they since told me that the 10 years was actually 3 years) which would give these people ample time to sink my boat. Hence, I was coerced into accepting a bench trial and was effectively denied my right to a trial by jury. (Bench trial means a judge alone decides guilt or innocence, and incidentally, that same judge assesses fees against the defendant IF he is found guilty... Can you think of a better reason to find an innocent man guilty.. if you get to hit his wallet?)

The trial was today... For over a year I have been effectively under House Arrest. I have to report 2x per week, cannot get into any trouble, (again remember the local sheriff deputies are looking for excuses) cannot drink even one beer, (I seldom do anyways) cannot leave the county, all in all my freedoms severely restricted.

The trial was a rediculous charade, a "dog and pony show" simply to satisfy the necessities. It seemed obvious to me that a decision had been reached before I ever got into the courtroom. Meinake, refuting his earlier statements straight out lied and said I pointed the gun at them. God will deal with him in His own time. His daughter had a convenient memory lapse and couldn't remember. Valda, remember Ms. Morton... the lady who started this conspiracy? Well she was nowhere to be seen. A videotape of her was introduced. Her drunkeness never came into question. So much for the right to face your accuser in an American Court. The fact that none of these people could remember a gun being pointed at them in their first statements was totally ignored. The prosecutor made jokes about my being threatened.

Another interesting factor about Meinake is that he admitted he had last seen me in 1995 when he was in the harbor and had bought water from me. Obviously after servicing literally thousands of people my not remembering him was normal. But he also claimed that he was a "good friend of mine" and could easily talk me into releasing the mast to Ms. Morton? Dost thou not smell a rat there? A six year old could see through that lie. He also admitted to being Ms. Morton's boyfriend. One can only imagine what "rewards" she might bestow upon him for aiding her.

An experiment: try this WITH AN EMPTY GUN. Set it on a table and go around in front of it and look. The barrel looks like a cannon! Are you scared? Think you would remember? You bet your butt you would! I know, I've been on the other side of a gun! An idiot could easily see who was lying!

May I also add here that I am perfectly willing to submit to lie detector tests, sodium pentathol or whatever other device or drug might be available to prove I am telling the truth. I'd truly enjoy seeing the reaction of my accusers were they asked to submit.

Today, another day in infamy, Judge Ruth Becker found me guilty... apparently of the crime of protecting myself. The long and short of it is that unless I could show bulletholes in my body, I had no right to defend myself. Sentencing will be on the 24th of this month. If there is any jail time, we can all be rest assured that Mr. Bartlett, Mr. DelVecchio and Ms. Morton will take a 3:00 AM cruise over to my unprotected (courtesy of Moron County) boat and it will be sunk and destroyed. It will be one of those unfortunate "accidents."

Now for the truly sad news:
Psychologically I have been damaged severely. I go to work at 11:00 pm come back to my boat at 7:00am and never have anything to do with anyone. People terrify me. My only friends are on the web. After defending the rights and freedoms we should enjoy as citizens of this country, I have been victimized by those whose very duty it is to uphold and secure those rights. For all intents and purposes the effect is the same as if the court system has been colluding with Ms. Morton and her friends. There is good however... Perhaps God allowed this to happen to me so I could truly feel the pain and terror which thousands of Americans suffer every day at the hands of corrupt or ignorant courts. Perhaps He wants me to use the talents He gave me to write about it. Not just my story but the stories of many others who also have been raped by these people...

Are you a vet? Did you have friends who died for this country? Have you ever been mistreated by the American judicial system? I encourage you to send a copy of this to a friend, a senator, a congressman. Click on the "Send this page to a friend" below... please, help bring about the radical changes we need to have a judicial system which actually works.

Don't know who your congressman is?
click here: US Senate
and here: US House of Representatives

Robert Betts
1/17/2001

Epilogue: At sentencing I was given the choice of spending yet another year on probation or if I would simply get out of "Moron" County I would be released from everything. That certainly made it clear to me that the whole idea was to get rid of me, one way or another. My guess is that George Neugent, a "Moron" County Commissioner was behind all this. Some years ago I got a judgment in the amount of $100 against him for failure to pay what he owed for advertizing. One day he was on public radio. I called in and asked "George, when are you going to pay what you owe?" His answer before thousands of listeners was "Bob, getting a judgment is one thing, getting paid on it is another." I suspect later he realized what a fool he had made of himself and swore vengence.
I have moved out of the county and relocated in Goodland, Florida where I am well accepted and liked by everyone I meet. I thank my God for getting me out of that terrible place and bringing me to a much better one. Psychologically I am far improved. Getting out and being released from the threats of life imprisonment did quite a bit to cure me.
The unfortunate truth is that the Florida Keys operates identically to any "Third World, Banana Republic"

Prose-n-Poetry.com

Bubba Justice
by Robert Betts (Age: 61)
copyright 01-17-2001

Age Rating: 18 to 127

Prose-n-Poetry.com

Bubba Justice by Robert Betts (Age: 61) copyright 01-17-2001 Age Rating: 18 to 127

Bubba Justice
by Robert Betts (Age: 61)
copyright 01-17-2001

Age Rating: 18 to 127