Thoughts on Terry Tomalin

In January of 1992 I was a sophomore in high school when Terry Tomalin, the local outdoor writer for the St. Petersburg Times wrote a series on paddling the Everglades. That series was the impetus for Jamie and I to do the Everglades Wilderness Waterway this last February. Prior to that series I had no idea the Wilderness Waterway even existed. Back then there were two things I read in the newspaper religiously. The first was Terry Tomalin’s articles. He was an idol of mine. If he wrote it, I read it. The second was always Calvin and Hobbes. Who doesn’t laugh at Calvin and Hobbes? Anything I read beyond that was a bonus and I often read the whole paper every day, but always started with those two things.

I cut out and kept those Everglades articles for the last thirty years. Today I reread the yellowed, faded words of Terry Tomalin for the first time in many, many years as I am working on an Everglades book of my own. It is funny how the mind can change a memory. I remembered he and his wife had paddled a canoe, but as Jamie and I paddled the waters of the Everglades I could not fathom how they crossed the big, open bays like Whitewater Bay and Hells Bay that we were crossing paddling sea kayaks in 3 foot waves against 25 mile an hour winds. It left me thinking Terry Tomalin and his wife must be way bigger badasses than I ever imagined.

Upon reading the articles again, I got my answer. They didn’t. I don’t know where or how my mind altered the memory of the articles, but somewhere along the way I built up in my mind their paddling trip was so much more epic. Not to take away from their experience, but I am glad I thought it was a major expedition because that false memory spurred us to accomplish so much more than I think we would have otherwise. The two of them did a much shorter northern loop starting and ending in Everglades City over six days. Jamie and I did 140 miles from Flamingo to Everglades City in 12 days.

Random After Thoughts of Kayaking The Wilderness Waterway of the Everglades

*I brought too many clothes. I had not considered I could wash clothes along the way. My camp shower bag doubled as a washing machine with some dawn dish soap which came in handy for washing the few long-sleeved shirts I brought along.

*I should not have packed any short-sleeved shirts. I didn’t wear them as the long sleeve shirts were necessary for sun and insect protection. Leave the short sleeve shirts at home. Bring long sleeve quick dry shirts.

*Bring a couple of balaclavas and a wide brimmed hat to cover your face, ears, and head. You will need to stay out of the sun. Wear gloves too. You will need them to protect your hands from blisters and sunburn.

*I should only have packed one, maybe two pairs of shorts. I paddled the whole trip in my underwear. Quick dry underwear kept me drier and cooler under the kayak skirt. I didn’t put the shorts on until we got closer to Chokoloskee Island where we would be running into people.

*I brought along a large 20,000 mah jump start battery and two DeWalt drill batteries with a usb adaptor to keep my electronics charged. The jump start battery was more than sufficient to keep everything powered. I am glad I did not fool around with solar panels. Next time it will only be the jump start battery. I still had 55% left on the battery at the end.

*I brought too much bug spray. As a matter of fact, I gave away two cans to Fred and Mike on our last night. Bug spray is woefully inadequate. I should have left the Thermacell and mosquito coils at home too. The bug jacket worked just fine. I need to add bug pants to my equipment next time.

*I will be looking to see if there is a warranty on the Exped Synmat 9 air mattress. I should have stayed with my old Thermarest mats. I have never had a problem nor heard of a problem with their products.

*I brought too much food, but that doesn’t upset me. A bad storm could have holed us up an extra day or two and I would have needed it.

*I needed more water than I brought. Thank goodness Jamie had extra. The water filter was a peace of mind even if it never got used.

*The rest of the gear was pretty much on point. No major regrets for what I brought or didn’t bring.

*I could have left my DSLR Nikon D5300 at home with its tripod. I had expectations of doing some light painting photography at night. The mosquitoes made that impossible. I used my Galaxy S21 Ultra cell phone and a waterproof Olympus TG-6 for 95% of the images I took.

*I packed my clothes in a dry bag and strapped it aft to the top of the kayak. It didn’t seem like much, but it acted like a big wind sail and caused me to battle the wind as it blew the stern sideways. I learned the hard way it is best if everything is below deck.

*Jamie and I have been well matched paddlers since we were teenagers. That hasn’t changed. It was great doing this trip with him both as a kayaking partner and as one of my best friends.

*Don’t take advice from anyone who hasn’t done this trip. If they haven’t actually paddled this route, they have no clue what they are talking about.

*Ignore people who say it can’t be done. We have had complete strangers tell us we couldn’t make it. I’m looking at you Flamingo kayak rental vendor employees. They did not know us, our skill level, our experience, our safety precautions, our preparations, nor our routes.

*I have seen many videos and blogs talking about how the Wilderness Waterway can be navigated just by following the markers. It can’t. If it could at one time, it can’t be done now. Get the NOAA charts and know how to use them. We navigated this entire trip without GPS solely relying on those charts. The markers we did come across would just help us confirm we were in the right place.

*While we did not use GPS for navigation, I did have a Delorme Inreach satellite locator beacon and communicator device. We used it to track our trip. It is how I was able to accurately record how many miles we covered every day. It does have the capability when paired with the cell phone to map and navigate. We did not use that feature, instead we relied on the NOAA charts and a compass. I texted my wife every night with it to let her know we arrived at our destination safely. She was our safety line should we need help. There is no cell signal from the time you enter Everglades National Park until you reach Everglades City. It was peace of mind if we ran into trouble. It has an emergency broadcast on it to summon help from the Coast Guard, Law Enforcement, etc. It is my fervent goal to never have to press that button.

*The chickees were not accurately marked on the charts. They were close. I am guessing the marked chickees got destroyed in hurricanes and the new ones are built in new locations. I don’t know that for a fact though.

*A deck mounted compass was invaluable. The P&H Cetus comes with a high quality compass built in. If your kayak doesn’t have one, mount an aftermarket compass to it.

*All the warnings about alligators, crocodiles, and pythons are way overstated. Yes those animals are here. Don’t stress about them. Don’t bother them and they won’t bother you.

*Whatever you heard about mosquitoes here, they are worse than you have ever experienced. They laugh at DEET. They don’t care about Thermacells. Burning mosquito coils was a waste of money and time. Wear a mesh bug jacket. The only reliable way for them to leave has been a strong wind.

*No-see-ums/sandflies. We never had any warnings about no-see-ums. Holy hell! Those things would make Satan cry. Make sure your mesh is fine enough to keep them out. They will end up in your tent no matter what you do. We found wet wipes would make them stick to the wipe when we scraped the tent wall with the wipe. We then tucked the wipe through a tiny opening in the zipper of the tent door to get rid of them.

*Urinals. Get a medical grade plastic urinal. You will be sitting in a kayak for up to ten hours. Ya gotta pee sometime and there is nowhere to get out along the way. A urinal allows you to pee while paddling.

*Arrive at your site early. Don’t get there as the sun is setting. Arriving after sunset is suicidal. You need to have eaten dinner, set up your tent, and done all your daily chores well before dark. The insects will own you. The one time we got away with arriving after dark at Lee Bay Chickee was because the wind was relentless. It worked in our favor.

*That urinal? Bring it in the tent. You won’t be leaving the tent until the next morning well after the sun is up and the wind resumes.

*We used our tent time to journal the day, edit pictures and also to plan out the next day’s route to make sure we still understood the route we chose beforehand. A few times during those sessions we changed our route.

*Kayak over canoe. I have no idea how people in canoes navigate the bays and the rough waves. I have read stories where canoers are stuck on a chickee for two to three days waiting on the weather to change enough for them to be able to cross the bays. I saw one YouTube video where they cut the trip short and had to beeline for Everglades City due to incoming weather. A sea kayak just makes a lot more sense to me in these waters, but the disclaimer is this is just my personal opinion.

*Practice getting in and out at a dock with a ladder before going on the Wilderness Waterway. Our first experience was at Johnson Key with high winds and tall waves. I am amazed we pulled that off.

*Check the prevailing winds and plan your trip with those winds at your back. Our original plan was to go north to south. The guide we hired to shuttle us suggested we do the opposite direction as the prevailing wind would be south to north. I half-jokingly told Jamie he wanted to shuttle us at the beginning instead of the end so he didn’t have to haul a couple of smelly, grungy kayakers. It turned out our Transporter’s advice was spot on. It would have been miserable paddling into the wind, current, and waves for the whole trip. We cannot thank our Transporter enough for advising us to go south to north with the winds. I cannot imagine how different the trip would have been if we had gone with our original plan fighting the wind most of the trip instead of having it assist us most of the way.

*Give serious consideration to using a guide service to meet you halfway and resupply you. We opted not to use that service so I can’t advise on the costs, but lighter kayaks would have made a huge difference.

*Tides rise and fall within each bay at very different times. Tide charts are not always accurate within the Wilderness Waterway. Make your best guess and go. Adapt along the way.

*Bring a well outfitted first aid kit. Fortunately, we didn’t need much out of it, but Jamie’s accident proved it was necessary gear.

*This wilderness trip was very healing for PTSD, my mind and my soul. It was beneficial to disconnect and disappear. Jamie found some healing from the very recent loss of his mother a few months ago from cancer.

*The trip was worth every paddle stroke, every sore muscle, every mosquito bite, and every patch of sunburn.

*I said it before and I’ll say it again, we highly recommend Captain Bob of Naples Fishing Adventures (239-293-7743). He provided outstanding service to us. He also gave us advice and took time to explain some things to us long before we committed to hiring him.

*We set out to intentionally do more than the 99 miles. Neither of us have any regrets spending more time or paddling more miles. As a matter of fact we both wished we had more time to spend paddling the Everglades. Unfortunately, we both have responsibilities back in the real world.

*We should have mastered rolling a loaded kayak before we started this trip. Having that skill would have taken a lot of the fear out of traversing the rough bays.

*I need to read up more on the history of killing Mr. Watson. I also need to read up more about the history of the Smallwood General Store and the Seminole Tribe of the Everglades.

*A downwind kayak sail would have been a nice addition to save a lot of paddling effort. I need to get another one.

Everglades Day 13

Day 13

Friday February 25th, 2022

Fort Myers to Everglades City to Tamiami Trail

Miles- Who cares? We are driving now!

We both slept in… or so I thought. I finally got up trying not to wake Jamie and slipped into the bathroom only to find Jamie in there talking on the phone trying not to wake me up. When Jamie got up he had pushed all the pillows to one side under the blankets. From my viewpoint in my own bed, it looked like he was still sleeping in his bed.

The continental breakfast was decent, but nothing to write home about. We both ate and then packed our belongings to drive back south on I-75 to Everglades City. Our first objective was finding suitable Everglade’s stickers for the kayaks.

We hit up every store in town. We found a few stickers, but not quite what we had in mind. We wanted a simple waterproof sticker with an alligator that simply said “Everglades” to apply to our kayaks. All the stickers we were finding had the name of an outfitter or store on them. We bought a few that were close in fear we wouldn’t find anything at all. We did spend time talking with the clerks and store owners just being social. A common theme we learned was hurricane Irma was a life changing event for each and every one of them. They all had something else in common, every single person we talked with was extremely friendly and as helpful as they could be. I love that about small towns.

Having failed to find what we wanted we headed back out to the Tamiami Trail. The first stop was the Ochopee post office. Mailing something? Nope. This post office is the smallest post office in the United States. You have to stop to get your picture in front of it. Jamie was shocked to see it was open with a postal clerk manning it. I just laughed.

In 1953 a fire burned down the previous post office. A local tomato farm donated a former irrigation pipe storage shed as a temporary solution. Nearly 70 years later it isn’t so temporary anymore. It quickly became a tourist attraction, so it remained.

Postmaster Don is the guy who runs it. He is a very outgoing and friendly fellow. It seems half his job is mail handling, and the other half is to talk to tourists. (We crossed from adventurers to tourists today) He seems well suited to the task as he was more than willing to chat. Don told us he has been there three and a half years. He worked in Naples before this. When he saw the position come open, he applied for it and got it. The postal service wanted him wearing a suit and tie. That doesn’t work in 100⁰+ temps. The little shed has a window shaker air conditioner, but the front door stays open for customers. Don says he has ten more years to retire but was evasive if those ten years would be here in this shed or back at a traditional post office. He says for now he is happy.

He did tell us years ago it became a regular senior prank for high school kids to paint the building pink. They would show up to work and the building would be bright pink. It was often left that color for long periods of time before they got around to restoring it to its official white color.

We also chatted about the other attraction Ochopee is known for, The Skunk Ape Research Center Headquarters just a couple miles down the road. Don’t know what a Skunk Ape is? It is south Florida’s version of Big Foot. Don grew up in Bonita Springs and says when he was a kid, he saw a five foot tall chimpanzee looking creature “just getting it” running into the woods. This was of course long before the area turned into housing developments and golf courses.

The whole Skunk Ape story and cryptozoology has always fascinated me. I have been to our next stop, the Skunk Ape Headquarters many times. I buy a black Skunk Ape T-shirt from there and a few stickers every time. Today I did so again.

I’ll link a Smithsonian Magazine story at the bottom. It is long, but very interesting.

David Shealy is the man who claims to have seen Skunk Apes. He is an interesting character who wears blue jeans tucked into snake proof boots and a loose long sleeve shirt with a wide brimmed hat. He is south Florida’s version of Crocodile Dundee. Talk to him for any length of time and he will convince you Skunk Apes exist. He is very charismatic.

I spent time in past trips down here talking to locals and even had the chance encounter with one of the park biologists for the Everglades National Park. Whenever I ask their opinion on Skunk Apes they all had the same response including the biologist. They answered my question with a question. “Are you a journalist?”. As soon as I answered no they all snorted and laughed saying David Shealy is full of it. Apparently if you are a journalist, they give evasive answers how the Everglades is the largest wilderness area east of the Mississippi and there is a lot to be learned about the Everglades. Skunk Ape stories bring in tourists and tourists bring in money.

The Smithsonian Magazine sent a journalist down to do a story and came to the same conclusion, the Skunk Ape is a made-up myth. Except there is a wild twist in the story. The Smithsonian journalist did more research and discovered there are primate research centers in the area. A lot of them. Some of them are owned by pharmaceutical companies and some are owned and operated by the U.S. government. Not a single research center would allow them on the property, nor would they answer questions. That opens a new possibility. Did David Shealy see an escaped primate? Did he see one that had been experimented on? If so, was he desperate to make people believe him when he claimed to have seen something so strange it defied explanation? Read the article and decide for yourself. Either way, I highly recommend visiting his place. He also operates a nice campground out back for tents, RV’s or screened in chickees. Attached to the store front is a small zoo complete with a parrot that will hop on your shoulder and ride around chatting away while you look at all the animal exhibits. There are also the eco-tours he leads.

Jamie and I had passed a metal shack just before the Skunk Ape headquarters with a sign indicating it was a restaurant. Restaurants are in short supply in this area so we asked an employee of the Skunk Ape Headquarters if the food was any good. She told us it was great food. We left the parking lot back tracking to Joanie’s Blue Crab Cafe. We were not lied to. The food was great. The parking lot was packed. This is one of those unique places with history, character, and a unique atmosphere. The building was originally an oil depot which explains its… um… derelict shack appearance. The abandoned gas station next door was Collier County’s first cinder block building. The staff is as unique as the building. Our waitress was one of a kind. The woman who rang us out married into the family who owns the restaurant and used to be known as the alligator lady. She raised live alligators to sell at her house. Inside you will see post cards from all over the world. People who eat there will send Joanie’s a post card from where they live when they get back home. Joanie’s then hangs it up. The bathrooms… well I’ll leave those as a surprise for when you visit. I’ll close out Joanie’s by saying make sure you get their key lime pie too. It was delicious.

With full bellies we left to go to Clyde Butcher’s Gallery. Clyde Butcher is an idol and inspiration of mine. His photography is exquisite. So are the price tags for his work. His work can cost you in the high five figures. Clyde Butcher is known as the Ansel Adams of the Everglades. Similar to Ansel Adams, he shoots using an antique large format camera and prints large black and white images on silver gelatin. His largest images can be nine feet across. He does this to cause the viewer to be immersed in the image. You have to step back and actively scan the scene depicted to take it all in. Unlike Ansel Adams, Clyde Butcher fills his images with open space. Ansel Adams filled his with mountainous subjects. The vast openness of the Everglades is what Clyde Butcher often conveys.

The large format camera he uses is one of those antique wooden boxes with a lens mounted like an accordion all sitting on a huge tripod. The photographer has a light blocking cape he goes under to look through his viewfinder. He carries this seventy-five-pound contraption deep into the swamps where he can wait for days to get the right lighting he desires. The images he composes through the viewfinder are upside down and backwards. It takes a keen eye and good spacial awareness to use such a camera. After he exposes his image, Clyde Butcher then processes his own images in a custom-built darkroom he has in Venice, Florida.

If you want to fall down a rabbit hole, go look him up on YouTube. He is another Florida icon. He has been bitten twice by water moccasins and a few years ago suffered a debilitating stroke. None of that has stopped him. He simply adapted and kept on working. The man is tough and passionate.

We met some very friendly people at his gallery as well where we spent considerable time talking. It seems to be a common theme on this trip that the people we meet are very interesting and friendly folks. An older couple recognized us from one of the visitor centers where they overheard us talking about our paddling trip. They had lots of questions. We ended up in the parking lot showing them our kayaks and some of our gear.

Since we had not found our stickers yet, we proceeded down to Shark Valley visitor center. They didn’t have them either and they were our last hope. We again chatted up the employees working there. Paula was a seasonal employee working the gift shop for the park service. She and the Interpretive Ranger were asking us about our trip and where we were from. In conversing we discovered it just so happened Paula was Jamie’s neighbor from Charlotte, North Carolina. They had never met before, but she literally lived a block from him on the same street before moving to South Florida with her husband for this job. She also has friends in Washington state in the town of Republic near Omak where I am headed in a few weeks. She gave me their info for the brewery they own. The brewery is an old fire house they converted which is right up my alley. Micro brews, a firehouse, and history… yeah, that will be one of the first places we visit when we settle in. It truly is a small world.

Leaving the visitor center we backtracked to Loop Road. It starts out paved and then turns to a dirt road. There are lots of ditches and low bridges on this road. The reason to go down this road is to see a lot of alligators and birds. None of the gators are especially large, but there are plenty of them. We saw more gators in the first ditch than we saw in 140 miles of paddling the Wilderness Waterway. These alligators are used to people and don’t disappear when approached. It makes it easy to get some good pictures of alligators.

We worked our way back to Tamiami Trail and continued back west. It was getting late in the day, and I wanted to show Jamie Jane’s Scenic Drive in Fakahatchee Strand. It is another dirt road but goes much deeper into the wilderness than Loop Road which means way more wildlife to be seen.

Just before the dirt road starts on the left near the ranger station and fire tower is a stone quarry that is now a lake. I am sure everyone reading this has seen river stones stacked up making intricate towers delicately balanced. The original owner of the rock quarry did the same thing, but with huge limestone boulders. I have always gotten pictures of the people I am with in front of the monolithic tower. Jamie climbed to the top for some photos. While on the back of the tower taking pictures near the lake, I happened to find an electrical outlet cover on a post. That was out of place, so I opened it. It was a geocache. I signed it and closed it all back up.

It turns out there is now a gate to Jane’s Scenic Drive that was never there before. The sign on the gate said it closed at 6:30. We decided to take our chances and entered at 6:10. We didn’t make it very far before park employees driving the other way stopped us to tell us the gate was closing. What a disappointment. It is really spectacular back there.

At this point we were tired. The emotional high of finishing the Wilderness Waterway and spending today sightseeing was wearing off. With daylight quickly drawing to a close it was time to point the truck north on I-75 to cover some miles.

Jamie and I began discussing where we wanted to stop tonight and get a hotel. We started adding up the time and miles and figured we wanted to stop somewhere near Sarasota. Well duh! Luke lives in Bradenton! If you remember back to the first post about this trip, Luke is one of the four of our brotherhood. He is a very busy family man and it was getting late, but we were hoping he might at least be able to meet up with us for an hour. I called him and he answered on the first ring. As it turned out he was having a late day himself. He and his family would be eating a late dinner at Beef O’Brady’s about the time we would arrive.

Luke is the American success story. He has built a large successful business from scratch and created a loving and well-adjusted family. When we arrived at the restaurant it wasn’t just Luke and his family. It was a whole entourage including friends of his and his wife’s as well as his daughters’ friends. We sat down next to Luke. He had already ordered for us and then the conniving bastard paid for our dinner before we could. He happens to know the owner, so we never stood a chance with him. It is always great to see Luke and his family.

He wouldn’t hear of us going to a hotel. We were invited to spend the night at his house where we stayed up way too late talking and catching up. We slept soundly that night when we finally turned in.

Saturday morning, we woke up to his wife, Ginger, making us breakfast. She had to leave early to open her store. A quick hug from Ginger to say goodbye and then the three of us spent much longer sitting out by the pool in the cool morning air talking and spending time together. I don’t see Luke anywhere near as much as I would like. He is one of those friends where time doesn’t matter. We pick up where we left off last time, we saw each other.

Eventually we did need to get back on the road. Jamie still had a very long drive ahead of him back to North Carolina. He dropped me off in Bushnell where my wife drove my truck out to meet us saving him some drive time from having to get off the interstate to go to Brooksville.

I ended the day by taking my wife out for a nice Italian dinner at Pappa Joe’s. Poor Jamie unfortunately ended his day arriving at his home in Mooresville, North Carolina around 3 a.m. Sunday morning due to multiple traffic backups.

With both of us safely home the Everglades adventure story comes to an end. Thank you for following along on our Everglades Wilderness Waterway adventure, but rest assured there will be many more in the near future. I welcome friend requests on Facebook as I like to interact with others who share a love of the outdoors. You can also find a lot of my photography on my personal page as well as my professional photography page on Facebook at Chris Harbig Photography LLC.

Everglades Day 12

Day 12

Thursday February 24th, 2022

Crooked River Chickee to Chokoloskee Smallwood General Store to Everglades City

Miles-9.5

Total-137

There is what must be the biggest, loudest woodpecker in the world across the river from us. His drilling sounds like a 50-caliber machine gun going off.

I slept well last night, but I am sure that had a lot to do with the Benadryl I took for all my bug bites. The sun gently rose this morning to a very cool, almost cold morning. The temperature hasn’t slowed the mosquitoes or no-see-ums though. They are trying to get into the tent at us. We have learned the hard way to place something between our bare skin and the tent wall. I have taken to placing my sleeping bag between me and the mesh wall when I am not in it or to make sure my arms are all the way inside the sleeping bag. My right elbow and right knee have been decimated by mosquitoes. They may not be able to get inside, but they can bite through the mesh.

The early morning fishermen are running their flats boats hard down the river. Their powerful motors are the only thing to break the tranquility. The prevalence of boats also tells us we are close to the end of the trip.

Our newfound friends were up just before us cooking eggs and bacon and making coffee. Those guys are on a whole other level than us with our oatmeal and freeze-dried food. Granted, they have a shorter trip and have the ability to carry a cooler with ice where we cannot, but we are still jealous.

We picked up our conversations with Fred and Mike where we left off last night. While chatting, we slowly worked on packing up and securing our gear. Before we launched, we got pictures together and swapped contact info. We made some new friends. Jamie and I have become experts in launching kayaks off the tall chickees. We passed on some friendly advice on the best way to accomplish the task.

Fred and Mike are heading further into the Everglades with a respectable destination of Hog Key, about twenty miles of paddling for them. Jamie and I have an easier day of about ten miles. We parted ways. They paddled south while we paddled north for the final leg of our trip.

In some ways it was a nice reintroduction to society and civilized life having Fred and Mike join us. It has mostly just been Jamie and I with the birds, dolphins, and a few alligators for the last ten days.

We meandered to Chokoloskee Island coming into the island from the east. The closer we got, the more boats we saw. At one point we passed a fishing boat with a guy up top casting a line while a photographer laid on his back in the bottom of the boat to get an angled shot. As we paddled up, the guy with the fishing pole instructed the photographer to get pictures of Jamie and I as we paddled past. The photographer rolled on his belly at the bow of the boat and dutifully snapped shots through his lens. We tried to straighten up and look like we knew what we were doing. If you see pictures of a couple of dorks in a newspaper or magazine paddling the Everglades near Chokoloskee, that’s us.

We broke into a wide spot in the river where the horizon was the buildings and marina of Chokoloskee. It was jarring to see square shapes of houses after spending so much time in the wilderness. This was it. The adventure is pretty much over at this point. We are back in civilization.

We made one last push against the wind and waves to cross the open water and make our way around the south side of the island. We could have slid up the east side of Chokoloskee and under the causeway bridge for a more direct route to Everglades City, but we wanted to visit the Smallwood General Store by kayak. We wanted to land the way the Seminole Indians did when the store was functional, and they traded there. We wanted to see where Ed Watson was shot and killed.

The Smallwood General Store is still the original building standing on stilts although now days it is a museum and tourist attraction. There was a food vendor selling food out of a trailer. We ate some cliff bars and trail mix instead. We already knew where our next meal was coming from, and it wasn’t going to be from a trailer.

Jamie and I went up the stairs and paid the nominal entry fee then spent the next hour or so looking at all the historical artifacts. I bought an ice cold orange Fanta pulling it from the antique Coca-Cola cooler. A cold drink was a luxury. I’ve been to this place several times before on my motorcycle trips. It was special to me to be able to paddle here this time. I have stood on the back deck in years past to envision what it would be like to paddle up to the Smallwood General Store. Today it was a reality.

The Seminoles would pole their dugout canoes for days to get here to buy and trade goods. Once they arrived, they often stayed for a few days in a room reserved for them in the side of the store before making the strenuous journey back to their villages. A few years ago, we met a young woman running the counter who was a member of the Smallwood family. She told us stories and pulled out a scrapbook showing us pictures of her family with the leadership of the modern Seminole Tribe. Her family is still very friendly with the Seminoles because of their long, mutual history trading at that store.

On that same previous trip on motorcycles, my friend Ed and I went to the Ah-Tah-Thi-Ki Museum (say that five times fast!) in the Seminole Indian Reservation and learned some very interesting things. One of which is that while the men would propel the dugout canoe with a pole, the Seminole women did not get a free ride. Singer sewing machines, yes, the Singer brand you are familiar with, manufactured a sewing machine specifically for Seminole Indian women. It was not powered by pumping foot pedals as a standard sewing machine of the era was, but the ones made for Seminole women was more compact and powered by spinning a weighted fly wheel on the end of the machine. The sewing machine could rest on the floor of the canoe while they worked. The women would spend their days in the dugout sewing clothes as the canoe was traveling the wilderness of the Everglades along the same waters Jamie and I had just paddled in modern, state of the art kayaks. All I can say is they were a much tougher people than we are today. I have gained a deeper respect for them.

We left Chokoloskee Island paddling the last three miles to Everglades City. It was an easy paddle. We were in no rush. On the west side of the island and causeway we had minimal wind and waves. Jamie and I chatted about some of the highlights of the trip as it wound down. As the two-story Everglades City National Park Service building came into view we set our course for it. The kayak launch ramp is located just behind it.

The ending of one hundred forty miles of paddling over eleven days and ten nights was rather anticlimactic. There was nobody to greet us. No celebration. We landed amongst other kayakers who were out day paddling. Nobody took note of us. Inside our minds was a different story. The emotions of contentment and happiness at accomplishing our goal needed no fanfare.

We left the kayaks beached and walked up to fire up the truck and back it down to the kayaks. Bob, the guide who transported us at the beginning of the trip left a note on the windshield asking us to call him to let us know we were off the water. He noted the time he wrote it. We missed him by an hour, but true to his word, he was watching out for us. We called him a few hours later to thank him for all his advice. We got loads of bad advice from people prior to the trip. Not so from Bob. He was spot on with everything he told us. We highly recommend Captain Bob.

We also went over to the ranger station to check out. Just like they told us when we started the trip, checking out wasn’t necessary. The park service wasn’t keeping track of us. Seems to me a Wilderness Permit is just another useless tax. Maybe someone can explain why we had to file it and why we had to pay for it. We also asked if they had any stickers. I like to sticker up my motorcycle panniers of places I have been on the bikes as it makes for good memories and also will often spark conversations with strangers when they recognize somewhere they have been too. We wanted to do the same with the kayaks. The park service didn’t have any stickers, but recommended we visit some of the local shops. Our growling stomachs said we would have to do that tomorrow.

We walked back across the parking lot and the groups ahead of us had cleared out from the kayak launch. A gentleman from Sweden asked us for help loading his kayak. Jamie and I put it on top of his car for him. We spent some time talking to him and his wife. He expressed interest in camping overnight from his kayak. We gave him some advice and answered questions for him. When he left, we were the only ones at the kayak launch. The other groups had cleared out. After backing the truck as close as we could, we unpacked the kayaks and loaded the truck with our gear. The kayaks came out of the water for the last time and went back in their cradles in the bed of the truck.

We drove away elated having completed a dream from twenty-five years ago. We also drove away very, very hungry. We skipped lunch on purpose. We had a hot meal waiting for us at Cracklin’ Jack’s back in Naples.

That meal did not disappoint. The waitress, however, had us howling with laughter. We told her we just paddled 140 miles through the Everglades and were hungry. Her immediate response she blurted out and I quote precisely, “what the fuck is wrong with…”, at which point her brain caught up to her mouth as she understood the words she said out loud that she was thinking and gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth before she said anything more. Her eyes got big as it occurred to her what she just said to the restaurant’s customers. We weren’t mad. That was freaking hilarious.

Jamie travels a tremendous amount for work, so he has hotel points. We called the hotel we stayed at the night before we started the trip only to find they were completely booked for the night. No big deal. We called a few more. Same answer. I looked on google maps for a room and saw rooms going for $1500 a night. Lower end motels were going for $400 a night. We will pull out the tent and sleep in a field somewhere before we pay those prices. We just spent 10 nights in a tent. One more night wasn’t going to hurt us. We had our hot meal. A hotel was just a bonus at this point. Jamie contacted customer service for his rewards program and they found us a room in a nice hotel in Fort Myers an hour away. We took it. None of the hotel clerks or the customer service representative were able to tell us what was going on that every single room in Naples was booked even at those outrageous prices, on a Thursday night no less. I got my scalding hot shower and a real bed to sleep comfortably on for the night.

Tomorrow the plan is to head back to Everglades City to get those stickers and then to several places I want to show Jamie. The Everglades is rich with history and unique things to see. We won’t have time for everything, but we can get in a few items on my list. The paddling part may be done, but the trip isn’t quite over just yet.

Everglades Day 11

Day 11

Wednesday February 23rd, 2022

Sweetwater Chickee to Watson’s Place to Crooked River

Miles-12.5

Total-127.5

I woke up to see Jamie already awake sitting up deep in thought looking over the bay. He didn’t notice I was awake as I just open my eyes in the morning and don’t move around first. I grabbed him snarling at the same time and scared the poo out of him. Gotta keep my friends on their toes.

The bay was very active all night and it never stopped this morning. It is a rather noisy place with all the fish jumping and swimming near the surface. A large shark circled the bay a few times and disappeared. Not long after, a pod of dolphins entered the bay. They didn’t stay long either. Our friendly alligator from yesterday glided in riding the current to reclaim his mud bank perch. The tide was still up, but as it receded, he slowly settled into his spot floating gently into place. Alligators are the masters of energy conservation. He was soon joined by another alligator who did the same little maneuver at the next open spot down the bank.

We broke camp, packed the kayaks and headed for Watson’s Place. Leaving Sweetwater, on the backside of the island next to the chickee was another fishing guide and his client. We greeted them as we passed. They asked about the mosquitoes last night.

Our kayaks are significantly lighter than at the start of this trip losing about ten pounds a day in water and food weight, but we are also growing more sore every day. Our pace remains consistently around 3 mph.

We were fortunate to see another pod of five dolphins pushing fish up the bank. They work as a team churning up the water. At irregular intervals they surface for a loud breath. They are fun to watch, almost impossible to get pictures of them.

It wasn’t long before we landed at Watson’s Place. We watched a Carolina Skiff come in moments before us taking up the whole landing forcing us to squeeze our kayaks into a small opening behind the dock. I swear this guide’s two clients looked like the Howells taking a three-hour tour on the SS Minnow. The woman had two groomed Corgis dogs with her. The guide assisted them out of the boat and gave a short history of the place while waving a small machete he had pulled from its sheath pointing with the blade for effect. The whole thing was rather comical.

I asked the guide if there were trails and more to see on the island. He replied that there was a trail with an old Ford Model T, but he wasn’t taking his clients down it as there was fresh panther scat in the trail. Not sure how he knew that as he never went near the trail entrance. He then emphasized there were rattlesnakes on that trail and to be very careful. We think he said all that because the mosquitoes on that trail were horrendous and he just didn’t want to go in the thick brush with his clients. I don’t doubt the presence of rattlesnakes and panthers on the island, but I don’t stay out of places based on the mere possibility a dangerous animal is there. In fact, I have my camera ready hoping to see animals like those. A picture of a wild panther would be the capstone to this adventure.

I also asked him what years the island plantation operated mostly to see if he would start talking and fill in some details I hadn’t read about yet. He replied with a very southern accent, “My great granddaddy dun shot Waaatson waay baaack in nineteeeen ten”. That was another statement for the benefit of his clients. I already knew more than half the town at the time shot Mr. Watson. The coroner pulled over a pound of lead out of his body. Even the town’s kids went down to the Smallwood General Store to put a bullet in the body so they too could say they shot Mr. Watson. The guide simply omitted his “great granddaddy” wasn’t the only one by far to shoot the man so hated by the residents of Chokoloskee.

The guide quickly loaded The Millionaire and his wife, Thurston Howell III and Lovey Howell with her pampered pets back in the SS Minnow leaving Jamie and I set aground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle to explore. Apparently, we needed to be on the three-hour tour aboard the SS Minnow to ask questions.

Jamie and I looked around the clearing at the water cistern, the sugar vat, the remains of machinery, and a few building foundations. I knew this cistern was here and it is why I brought along a Katydyn water filter. The Wilderness Waterway is known for raccoons breaking into people’s water supplies and stealing their fresh water. If we needed more water, I intended to use this cistern to resupply us. The truth is the water is likely safe to drink without filtering. The water is crystal clear with huge tadpoles swimming around. Back when cisterns were the most common way to have water in Florida, frogs would be placed in the cistern to be the proverbial canary in the coal mine. If the frogs and tadpoles were dead, then you knew the water wasn’t safe to drink. As it turned out, our water was never raided, and we still had plenty with us.

We next headed into the scary jungle down the trail. We never saw rattlesnakes, or the panther scat the guide was so worried about, but we did see some older footprints in the mud that may have been panther. (Check out the pictures and let me know your opinion) Watson’s Place is a remote, 35 to 40 acre island. The trails The Skipper described as going way back on the island didn’t. Those supposed long trails ended just a few hundred feet back. We are sure there are so many more artifacts left on the island, but all we found was the remains of the model T and the remains of what was possibly a tractor. Check out the attached pictures and give me your ideas what it might have been.

I am going to give a very abbreviated story of Mr. Watson. There are books and movies made about the serial killer of the Everglades. At the bottom of this post are links to more details of the story. The story of Mr. Watson is quite interesting even if more than a little macabre. Also bear in mind as with most stories like this that have grown into legend there is substantial variation in the details of the tale of Mr. Ed Watson.

Mr. Watson came from South Carolina and started a successful sugar plantation just south of the town of Chokoloskee in the Everglades wilderness. That was strike one against him. People who had lived their whole lives there had difficulty growing crops. There was considerable jealousy for his success.

It took a while, but the townspeople of Chokoloskee began to notice Mr. Watson’s hired help were disappearing. It turned out Mr. Watson was not paying his help. At that time, it was not uncommon for the plantation workers to be paid at the end of the season when the crops were sold. Mr. Watson would hire drifters nobody knew as a practice and then kill them instead of paying them. Eventually the town had enough of this serial killer and confronted him when law enforcement proved unable to deal with him. An argument ensued at the Smallwood General Store where he was confronted about the murders. It culminated in Mr. Watson raising his shotgun at the crowd and pulling the triggers of his double barrels. Unfortunately for him his paper shotgun shells were wet from the recent hurricane and the gun misfired. The folks of Chokoloskee didn’t have that problem and returned fire with about twenty people shooting Mr. Watson nearly simultaneously before Mr. Watson could reach for the revolver he always carried.

After news spread of what happened many others in town came to pay their respects by putting a piece of lead in the body of Mr. Watson. The murders ceased after his death. The details of course vary, but that is the gist of the story.

Jamie and I cast off and headed towards our destination of Crooked River for our last night in the water. We savored our last full day of paddling. The plan was to take it slow. I got off to day dreaming again and my pace became fast and steady without my realizing it. Jamie eventually caught up to me wondering what the hell that was all about. I don’t know either. I just went on autopilot.

Crooked River Chickee isn’t on the chart. It took us a little while to find it tucked down a side river behind an island. It isn’t actually on the river it is named for either.

We unloaded and took a short rest. We have been taking a near daily swim in the water to clean up. Jump in, get out and soap up, then jump back in to rinse off. I cannonballed a large gar who wasn’t impressed at all with my water entry technique. He never left his spot near the bank.

I no sooner had gotten out, dried off and dressed when two kayakers came around the island from the other direction. This was our last night in the Everglades and the first time we shared a chickee. We weren’t happy sharing as we are more fond of the solitude, but as it turned out we had a lot in common with Fred from Indian Rocks Beach and his friend, Mike, from Minneapolis who joined us. They were a couple of very friendly guys who we spent the evening with swapping stories. Mike told us about a bicycle trip he recently did following the length of the Mississippi River. Fred builds sailboats for a living and of course is an accomplished sailor. He and Jamie had a lot to talk about. They offered up some cold beer and we returned the favor with some of our whiskey.

Like clockwork the sun set, the wind died, and out came the insects forcing us to retreat to the tent.

I have a lot of emotions running through my head this last night out here. I am so thrilled to have finally gotten to do this trip after 25 years of talking about it. I am also looking forward to another hot meal at Cracklin’ Jack’s. A scalding hot shower and a comfortable bed will be nice too.

Literally, the only thing I have to complain about is the failure of my air mattress. I paid too much money for what I thought was a high-quality piece of equipment to accept this failure. First world problems meaning something like this really isn’t a problem.

Every other piece of equipment performed flawlessly. The trip has been great. The solitude and peace was healing. Everything about the Wilderness Waterway has been better than hoped for.

The last day tomorrow will be bittersweet. We end the trip but will have a memory to last a lifetime.

https://www.coastalbreezenews.com/opinion/columnists/the-story-of-edgar-j-watson-the-infamous-businessman-serial-killer/article_e53a5f09-ff02-5b4f-9273-a0753cfbf46e.html

https://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/fl-xpm-1998-05-10-9805080291-story.html

Everglades Day 10

Day 10

Tuesday February 22nd, 2022

Plate Creek Chickee to Sweetwater Chickee

Miles-10.5

Total-115

What a beautiful morning! Woke up to an orange glowing sunrise sky with a large flock of flamingos flying past. A few early fishermen sped by in their boats soon after. I got up out of the tent to pee off the side of the dock. Water was especially cold this morning. Jamie said it was deep on his side where he was peeing off the dock.

Today’s destination is Sweetwater River so named due to the fresh water running out of the Everglades. Historically it was one of the few places to resupply with fresh water within the ten thousand islands. Seminole Indians used it as well as early settlers.

I needed this trip badly. It has been healing to be in the wilderness with nothing but open water, mangroves, and wildlife. When I get back home it will be a frantic push to pack and prepare for the next big adventure. We are heading across the country to Washington state for Christa’s next travel nurse contract. We will enjoy that too I am sure but in a different way.

My P&H Cetus kayak got named this morning. Last night I pulled out a fresh shirt from my bag and when I unfolded it out dropped a pair of Christa’s pink leopard print panties that got caught in my shirt in the dryer at home. What to do with a pair of pink leopard print panties in the wilderness? Make a flag out of them for the kayak of course! We tossed around names like” The Bloomer Boomer” and “The SS Thong”, but finally settled on a less risqué name. The kayak will now be known as “The Pink Leopard”.

We pushed off from Plate Creek Chickee shortly after 10 am. The first order of business was to retrieve a plastic zip loc bag that had blown in the water. It is crazy how fast you can lose items in the wind out here. We have lost more than we would like to admit, but have been able to retrieve everything we lost except an empty Gatorade bottle in the rough waters of Florida Bay at Johnson Key. Everything else has floated into the nearby mangroves where we could get it back. Jamie’s shirt sunk straight to the bottom about twenty feet off the dock back at Lee Bay Chickee. We retrieved that with a paddle while floating over it.

I like these lazy days. It kind of feels like a Huckleberry Finn adventure. We sit on the chickees and watch the birds and fish. This morning was the first morning we didn’t wake up to find dolphins nearby. Later in the day we saw a pod of five chasing fish and playing in Chevelle Bay. Often in the distance we will see a plume of water where one is swimming at high-speed throwing up a trail of water. It is also nice to just relax under the sun and feel the cool breeze in the serene remoteness of the ten thousand islands of the Everglades.

Halfway through the day we crossed paths with the Shit Sucker Boat. The park service provides porta-potties at each chickee. They aren’t photogenic, but they sure are nice to have when nature calls. The Shit Sucker Boat goes out to clean them periodically. On the south side of our trip the boat was just coming back to Flamingo as we left the dock. That meant we had freshly cleaned toilets for the first few nights. We eventually moved towards the north ones and ran into two that were a little ripe. We should be back to clean toilets tonight and tomorrow night. It is the little things in life you appreciate.

We took a leisurely pace today mostly side by side chatting as we dipped our paddles. We crossed paths with a few more fishing boats. Leaving Flamingo, we saw boats in the canal and now as we get closer to Everglades City we are once again seeing more boats. In between we went two days without seeing another human being. The rest of the time people and their watercraft have been sparse.

Just before we entered Sweetwater River in the bay, we paddled past the only other kayakers we have seen this entire trip. Three older couples said they just left Sweetwater and were heading to Watson’s Place. Two of the paddlers were in single kayaks. The remaining two couples were in some of the largest tandem kayaks I have ever seen. The kayaks and paddles were identical, so I must wonder if they were rented. These folks greeted us but weren’t interested in conversation so other than learning where they were coming from and where they were headed to, that was the end of the conversation.

Arriving at the Sweetwater River Chickee we found a fishing guide and his client behind the chickee on a very nice flats boat. Nearby lay a five-foot alligator on the bank sunning himself. This is only the second alligator we have seen this trip. Supposedly Sweetwater is known for lots of alligators. That one was all we saw. He eventually swam away when the tide overtook his perch in the mud.

The guide moved on giving us space. An hour or so later he came back down river and idled in the current with his trolling motor to chat with us. He is from Naples. His client is from New York City. We had a pleasant conversation and they moved on down the river.

Buzzards circled us overhead while we laid on the chickee deck. Jamie hollered out to them “we might smell dead, but we are not!!!”. We try to keep clean with daily swims in the water. At this site with an alligator present and being known for alligator activity, a swim probably isn’t very safe. A wet wipe bath is all we are going to manage tonight.

We spent the evening watching the immense aquatic activity. The guide wisely fishes here for a reason. We also saw small sharks circling the water in front of our chickee. Pelicans would occasionally drop from the sky to grab their meal. As I write this the water is perpetually popping with fish jumping and hitting the surface. This is hands down the most active aquatic place we have been yet.

While the sharks and birds ate their meals, Jamie and I ate our own meals. Since this is near the end of the trip with no need to conserve food anymore, I had my fill making extra tuna wraps as well as eating my hot chili. I also treated myself to a hot chocolate drink. Our intention was to wait a little while to digest dinner and then make some dessert. Not tonight. The mosquitoes had other plans chasing us into the tent earlier than we planned to be there.

Tomorrow will be a paddle to Watson’s Place then north to Crooked River. I had two requests of Jamie when he planned the route. I wanted to do at least one night of beach camping, and I wanted to stop at Watson’s Place. I’ll expound on the history there tomorrow. For now, I’ll just tell you it is rather grim and tragic.

Everglades Day 9

Day 9

Monday February 21st, 2022

Highland Beach to Plate Creek Chickee

Miles-10.5

Total-104.5

The no-see-ums are an ever-present demon to fight every morning. It is nucking futs how many and how persistent they are. It takes strong, sustained winds to blow them away and we aren’t getting that yet.

We donned our bug net jackets and headed out of the tent. Our bladders dictated we had to leave the tent. Afterwards, a walk down the beach to look at the low tide found us flipping over horseshoe crabs stranded upside down along the beach. If the waves flip them over on the beach and another wave doesn’t rescue them then they will be left for the birds to pick at their underside and for the sun to desiccate them. The several we found and returned to the water won the lottery today.

We waited until noon to launch. The tide receded out last night leaving a huge expanse of sand, mud, and shells to get to the water. We also want to ride the incoming tide to our next destination. Neither of us minded the wait. Hanging out on the shoreline of a remote beach in the Gulf of Mexico watching the waves, birds, dolphins, and sharks isn’t exactly a bad thing. I took a short nap lying on a piece of driftwood standing above the sand in the shade of a tall tree. It was a pleasant feeling with the cool wind blowing over my body while listening to the waves lap gently at the shore. We also found two horseshoe crabs jammed under a root ball that were still alive. We dug them out and returned them to the water to join the ones we rescued from the beach earlier.

We hauled the kayaks out across the beach to the water and loaded them, finally paddling away right at noon. Our plan of riding the tide upstream didn’t quite work. The current still flowed against us. At least it wasn’t as fast a current as it could have been. Along the way three dolphins took interest in the kayaks poking their heads up out of the water to take a good look at us. I can’t get enough of watching dolphins out here.

We paddled through several different bays and narrow necks of water finding our way to Plate Creek Chickee. Today’s paddle was truly peaceful and uneventful. We took it easy with only 10 miles to cover today. We had a mild current against us and an easy headwind. Neither slowed us down much. The kayaks are steadily getting lighter as we consume the water and food. We are also getting into a nice paddling rhythm. Several times on this trip I have told Jamie we are just going to take an easy paddle. Before I know it I am lost in thought or daydreaming not paying attention and my pace will quicken. I do that on my mountain bike and while hiking too. Jamie will have to holler out to me to break the spell and slow me down.

We made it to Plate Creek Chickee with plenty of daylight left. It is getting a little bit easier to dismount from the kayaks and board the platforms, but not by much. It is an acquired skill for sure. There is nothing graceful about the process. I am learning to slide up on the aft deck and then reach out for the ladder as I stand up working my legs free of the cockpit. I am better at it, but still a hippo trying to ice skate. I am still getting water inside more often than not.

We unloaded our gear leaning down over the edge. My back objects to this method of unloading every time, but we don’t have any other way to get the gear out. Once unloaded, we pulled the kayaks up on the dock. The first order of business was getting cleaned up with a saltwater swim. That was refreshing and felt great to be clean and in fresh clothing. The trick is to towel off the saltwater before it dries on you. A few wet wipes also aid in cleaning any missed salt off.

Dinner was next. I chose a lasagna dinner and added a cheese wheel to it. I buy those cheese wheels dipped in wax that come in the little nets by the dozen at the grocery store. They keep very well without refrigeration. Twenty years ago backpacker meals were bland and not very good. They have come a long way. A hot, cheesy lasagna hit the spot. Usually on a trip like this we are talking about all the good food we want to eat when we get back to civilization. Not so on this trip. We are eating quite well and not missing out on any good food that fills us up. As a matter of fact, we need to consume a lot more over the next three days if we are going to use it all up before we finish the Wilderness Waterway on Thursday. We brought plenty of food along.

Speaking of plenty… Jamie and I took inventory of our water. I had just shy of three gallons before cooking dinner. Jamie has been consuming less than me and also started with eleven gallons to my ten. There is more than enough with no need to ration the remaining water. I’ll transfer a gallon to my stock from his in the morning.

We cleaned up dinner and prepped for bed. We were in the tent by 7 pm. As soon as the sun disappeared the wind said “peace out!” and left us to the angry hordes of mosquitoes. No matter how quick we are at getting in the tent, the mosquitoes follow us. It is an evening ritual to kill off the ones that made it inside. Most of the bastards get us before we get them so when they get squished there is a blood smear across the ceiling and walls. It looks like someone got shot in here from all the blood. Every night their buzzing is loud. We of course can hear the ones right outside our tent, but there is a second chorus coming from the mangrove islands around us. There must be billions of them.

My air mattress has delaminated even more making it about useless. Jamie is getting some entertainment out of watching me try to get just the right pressure in it and then try to roll over without rolling off. It is like trying to sleep on an inflatable log. I will be looking for a replacement from the manufacturer when I get home. I am highly disappointed with the failure of a crucial piece of gear. I paid a lot of money for it specifically so something like this wouldn’t happen. It is an Exped Synmat 9 LW in case you were wondering. It lasted less than 4 years. My Thermarest from 30 years ago is still going strong. I should have brought that one instead.

Right now, as I write this there is something large splashing around under our chickee. I would love to shine a light to see what it is. Whatever it is has been in the same spot making a lot of noise for at least 30 minutes straight. (Update: make that well over an hour)

The stars have again filled the night sky and are visible through the mesh tent walls. It would be great to be outside enjoying them, but the mosquitoes would ensure it would be near instant death from blood loss if I did.

I truly needed this trip. It has been healing to my soul. I spent too much of last year depressed and grieving the loss of my health, my career, and my identity. I need to get back to doing these adventures regularly.

Most folks who know me know I was a firefighter/paramedic for just over 20 years. At some point the doctors say I inhaled toxins from a structure fire or more likely several and it damaged my lungs which in turn damaged my heart. I could no longer pass the medical requirements to be a firefighter per NFPA 1582 standards. A letter from the department doctor ended my career. I was medically discharged from the fire department I had devoted my life to on February 10th, 2021. I spent much of last year in a tailspin. My PTSD also got much worse during that time resulting in me going to 53 days of an inpatient treatment facility in Maryland specifically for firefighters last October and November. This Everglades trip has helped my mental health in many ways to heal me. I need to do a lot more of these long wilderness trips. Jamie and I are already discussing doing the Boundary Waters or Algonquin Provincial Park in Canada next.

______________________

After yesterday’s post about Rodger’s Chickee I was chatting with Walt Greer, a member of Kayak Junkies, via Facebook messenger who sent me the following story:

“Some friends of mine were plugging the bank behind Rodgers River Chickee and saw a head poking out of the water following them. They turned off the trolling motor and waited and a python came right up to the boat. They shot it and stretched it out on their 18′ flats boat along the gunnel. The head was on the stem and the tail almost touched the stern. It measured over 9″ in diameter, and they estimated the weight at 200 pounds.”

Jamie and I never saw any pythons on our paddle and just assumed they stuck further inland. I forwarded Walt’s message to Jamie and told him I was glad we didn’t have that experience. Jamie sent back a single word, “Liar!”. He knows me well.

Everglades Day 8

Day 8

Sunday February 20th, 2022

Rodgers Chickee to Highland Beach

Miles-13

Total-94

We took a risk last night leaving everything out to dry. The risk paid off. Total opposite of the night before. There was no dew anywhere on the chickee. We had to have everything as dry as possible as tonight’s destination is a sand beach. We don’t want to have any moisture in our gear attracting sand. It will be hard enough keeping the sand out as it is.

Yesterday also marked our halfway point time wise. We have fewer days ahead of us than behind us. We have about 40 miles of paddling left to do once we reach Highland Beach. Our goal was never to rush this trip. We could have paddled 25 miles a day for 4 days and never stopped to explore anything and said we did the 99 mile Wilderness Waterway. Our goal was to experience the Everglades and spend time enjoying the outdoors. We have taken a very circuitous route covering way more than the route laid out by the National Park Service… or as Lamar Gibson would say, a route of great sinuosity.

We have been extremely lucky this trip. So far the tides and currents have been in our favor the majority of the time. Jamie tried to say luck is just opportunity meeting preparation, but in a true Jamie-ism it came out “luck is preparedness meeting preparation”. Some things never change with my friend. He has a lot in common with Yogi Berra.

Today’s route originally was supposed to take us through more wide-open bays. We have had enough of getting beaten around by the waves though. After studying the charts, we found another route and opted to go through the narrow Tom’s River leading out to the Gulf. It took a lot more chart and map work going between small islands, inlets, and down narrow rivers. Jamie didn’t miss a turn. We only had two bay crossings today. The first one wasn’t bad, the second one had opposing currents that tried to spin our kayaks violently. Fun times! The wind driven waves were carrying us out to the Gulf, the tidal current was moving upstream. If one were to close their eyes the sound of the water falling down the standing waves was the same as water in a stream tumbling over rocks in the stream bed. It was relaxing sounding but belied a conflicting water movement making paddling challenging.

Today’s paddle was mostly peaceful and uneventful. I had a second shark this trip swim under my kayak. This one was much bigger than the first one that hit me in Florida Bay. This one saw my kayak. It didn’t hit me but dove under then resurfaced directly behind me. Jamie estimated it to be about a five-footer. We saw plenty of our daily dolphins and a few more fishing boats today. So far, we have only seen a grand total of eight boats since we left Flamingo Marina.

We entered the Gulf of Mexico then paddled north looking for a place to camp on Highland Beach. Highland Beach is a misnomer. It isn’t as much a sand beach as it is trees along the water’s edge with some space between them the National Park Service expects paddlers to camp among. No freaking way were we going to camp somewhere that blocks any wind. The wind is our only way to leave in the mornings. Without any wind we are trapped in the tent by the mosquitoes and no-see-ums waiting to exsanguinate us. As it is, there are plenty that make it inside the tent with us. The tent currently looks like a murder scene with all the blood splattered on the ceiling and walls where we have been killing mosquitoes. We have also learned to take wet wipes and wipe down the ceiling and walls. The wipes collect up the no-see-ums.

We made landfall on the next island north of Highland Beach near a very out of place radio antenna where we found a small, mostly level campsite. (Manmade objects out here are rare to find.) Most importantly the site is exposed so the wind can do its job in the morning. There was no time wasted setting up the tent as we knew this site would be brutal with the insects. Once the sun set, our prediction was accurate.

When we landed Jamie exclaimed, “Terra Firma!!”. I had to correct him this is “Terra Softa” as we landed on soft sand. We haven’t touched land since we left Flamingo a few days ago.

I guess this is the point I need to note Jamie managed to stab himself with his knife. I saw he was cutting on an old piece of rope tangled in driftwood on the beach, but I walked further on taking pictures when he called out to me he needed the first aid kit. He was hunched over. I asked if he could walk to the boats a hundred yards away. He told me he could not. I quickly returned with the first aid kit and he showed me where he managed to place a deep puncture in his leg. He couldn’t walk because he was holding pressure on the wound site. We wrapped it up, dressing and bandaging it for him. When we get back to the truck he is getting a corner cut off his Totin’ Chit Card. (Those who know… know). He got his damn weather worn rope though. He intends to use it for a decorative project back home. I reminded him we weren’t actually supposed to need the first aid kits, they were just for show.

Before the sun set, we ate dinner on the beach as the tide receded while taking pictures of the sunset.

This is far from the first time Jamie and I have island camped together. We grew up near each other. I lived in Clearwater a block from the water on Stevenson’s Creek. For those who know Clearwater the famous lawn bowling and shuffleboard courts on Fort Harrison were just down the street from me. Stevenson’s Creek was an estuary with direct access under the bridge to Clearwater Pass. It was not uncommon to get a phone call late Friday night from Jamie or his brother, Jesse, asking if I wanted to go island camping. An hour later we would be paddling a canoe across Clearwater Pass in the dark to the nearest spoil island. Back then we most often just took a tarp and a sleeping bag to camp with. I also remember us taking cans of soup to cook over an open fire for our meals. We would shoot pellet guns all day at the glass bottles littering the island. There was never a shortage of targets. In the evening we would talk about life and solve the world’s problems. While we have our pistols with us on this trip, we aren’t target shooting. We are, however, still talking about life and solving the world’s problems. The food is a lot better than what we had back then.

A miscommunication came to light today. Jamie told me this trip was going to be ten days from February 14th to February 24th. I heard the words “ten days” and never looked at a calendar or thought it through. When I packed my water, the rule is one gallon per day. I packed ten gallons. The problem is that those dates actually mean we will be paddling eleven days and ten nights. Jamie is calculating a full 24-hour day. I did not. It is my fault for not paying attention. I am going to be short on water and it doesn’t help I am consuming it faster than a gallon a day. Jamie has some extra and I brought the water purifier. I am hoping this won’t be an issue. There is a possibility of fresh water at Watson’s Place where we intend to stop in two days. The original water cistern still exists on the island. As for food, I packed a little extra and we have skipped some meals trying to beat the insects and paddling to make time. I have plenty of food and other supplies. Gotta have water though. It has been hotter out here than the weatherman predicted before we left.

As I write this, I am laying on my back in the tent just a few yards from the water’s edge listening to the lapping of the waves on the shells. There is no rainfly, so the sky is visible with a clear sky of millions of sparkling stars. The moon will rise shortly casting a bright light. The insects sound like angry 2 stroke dirt bikes or chainsaws buzzing all around us and in the woods. I wanted to do some night photography which is specifically why we chose to camp here when we planned this trip. The bugs put stop to that idea. My DSLR camera, lenses, and tripod are just dead weight on this trip.

It is our hope since we are somewhere people don’t camp that the racoons on this island are slow to figure out, we are here and don’t go after our water and food. We have been warned in videos we have watched, material we have read, by our Outfitter Guide and by the Park Rangers the raccoons in the Everglades are highly aggressive in going after Paddler’s fresh water and food. They will chew through containers to get to the fresh water. We have even been warned they will chew through my rubber hatches on the kayak. We can’t afford to lose any water, and have it as secured as we can make it at the moment.

Tomorrow will be a respite from the longer miles provided we catch the incoming tide. We should only have about eight miles to paddle to Plate Creek Chickee.

Everglades Day 7

Day 7

February 19th, 2022

Harney River Chickee to Rodgers Bay Chickee

Miles-20

Total-81

Last night was crazy. I woke up to water running into the tent at my feet. I realized too that everything in our tent was soaked. We left the tent tarp off because it was so hot. Sometime in the night a pea soup fog rolled in drenching everything in water. The running water I felt was from pressing my foot against my socks in the tent pocket. Those socks had absorbed enough water to be squeezed out with just a little pressure.

The air was dead still, but cooler this morning than last night. Without any wind the mosquitoes and no-see-ums swarmed so badly we could hear a low roar.

We have a very long day ahead of about twenty miles. Our goal is to leave earlier than we typically have been so we can arrive before nightfall at Rodger’s Chickee.

We rapidly packed up, skipping breakfast and were paddling by 7:40 a.m. The fog was still thick. We got very lucky in that the tide was flowing out of Harney River carrying us along at a nice pace. Eventually we made it to our right turn where it quickly became a tight maze of mangrove roots, fallen trees and a tunnel through the mangrove forest. We picked our way slowly through the obstacles of trees and branches. Sometimes a tree branch would stick up out of the water like a punji stick punching through my deck lines capturing me. Many times the kayaks slid over downed trees with the slimmest of clearance. A few times we had to scoot over the dead, submerged trees. Successfully navigating required skill and perseverance. Ironically, it was enjoyable.

The putrid mud clung to everything in that tunnel. Grabbing a branch to help guide the kayak resulted in sticky mud slathered all over our gloves. It ended up all over the kayak and our gear. We spent considerable time later in the evening cleaning it off everything.

It was very quiet and peaceful passing through the mangrove tunnels. The only sound other than kayaks scraping branches every so often was the frequent short waterfalls we passed along the way. The mangrove forests sheet water off into naturally formed drainage ditches. When the tide is extremely low as it was in our crossing, those ditches drop water into the tunnel. It is only two feet or so, but it is indeed falling water replete with the pleasing sound of a small waterfall.

A few miles later the tunnel opened up to a wide channel where the low tide revealed mud walls on either side of us for another mile or so. Clearing that we entered another, wider river and continued on the outbound tide to the Gulf of Mexico.

On our right was the entrance to the infamous tunnel known as “The Nightmare”. We would have liked to traverse it, but it is only navigable at extreme high tide and you need to move fast to make it through. As we passed by the mud flat blocking the entrance it was at least two feet and maybe three above the water we were floating on. First, it would be a while until the tide returned allowing us to cross. Second, the park ranger we spoke to in Flamingo warned there were large trees that had fallen into the tunnel making passage impossible. Given we had twenty miles to cover we opted not to wait on the tide to attempt it.

So why is it called The Nightmare? Aside from the many obstacles to overcome in paddling through, it ultimately gets its name from the short window of time a paddler has to get through it. If you get stuck in the middle when the tide goes out, the mud is too soft to get out to pull your vessel through leaving you stranded and exposed to thousands upon thousands of mosquitoes and no-see-ums to make life utterly miserable until the tide returns.

When we arrived at the mouth of the river to the Gulf of Mexico there were two dolphins driving fish along the shoreline. They successfully kept their distance from us so I was unable to get any great shots of them breaching the water. We both enjoyed watching the dolphins run the fish, but we needed to make some time so we dipped our paddles and left the mouth of the river entering the glass smooth waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

We learned our lesson in Florida Bay about taking short cuts. Our chart showed the route we needed to take going way out and around the islands and points of land. We didn’t even try to cut across the shallows. We just paddled out well offshore before turning north to find the entrance to Broad River two miles away. It was partly luck, but also partly being aware of the tides and intentionally leaving early this morning, but we exited the river and paddled north during slack tide. Paddling up Broad River was so much easier as the incoming tide created a fast current to ride back towards the interior.

We passed the north entrance to The Nightmare which when passable is a shortcut. The next landmark was the ground site just a little further on. A few boats were tied up at the dock and the fishermen greeted Jamie and I as our kayaks glided by.

We paddled for several miles more when our luck ran out. The current shifted against us. It wasn’t long until the wind did too. We had already spent a lot of energy in the unnamed tunnel and paddling seventeen miles when we came to two bays we had to cross. The head wind picked up creating large waves. The wind, waves, and current all fought us the last three miles. We also anticipated seeing our destination Chickee before the last bay. Instead, it was across that bay. I know my heart sunk when I realized we had another rough, open bay to cross. Once a rough bay is entered there is no stopping and no breaks. You must paddle until you reach the calm waters of the other side, and I was already spent. It doesn’t matter. You have to dig deep to get the energy to make that last push.

We finally arrived at Rodgers Bay Chickee after twenty miles and nine hours of paddling. The kayaks got unloaded and pulled up on the deck. Jamie brought out the bourbon to mark finishing the day’s paddle. We took a well-earned rest.

There are signs here warning of alligator encounters. Whatever. We needed to bathe off the smelly mud and sweat from today. A quick jump in the bay to wet down, climb back on the deck to soap up, and another jump in the bay to rinse off had us feeling quite refreshed.

Dinner was next followed by setting up the tent. We also hung out clothing and gear to dry from last night’s drenching fog. The muddy gear got rinsed in the waters below the chickee.

Like clockwork, the sun no sooner set behind the horizon and the air filled with hungry mosquitoes. The stars tonight are brilliant. We are also far away from any light pollution. There is no way to enjoy the night sky tonight as we are trapped in the tent yet again. I brought along my DLSR Nikon camera and tripod in hopes of getting some good long exposure images. So far, the mosquitoes have prevented me from doing any night time photography. Perhaps the winds will be favorable tomorrow night at our next destination, Highlands Beach. Wish us luck for tomorrow.

Everglades Day 6

Day 6

Friday February 18th, 2022

Shark River Chickee to Harney River Chickee

Miles-10

Total-61

Come on wind!!! I gotta pee really badly!! We are trapped in our tent by no-see-ums and mosquitoes. There are visible clouds of no-see-ums encircling the tent. They are caked on the mesh walls just daring us to come out. We cannot leave our shelter until they blow away.

…or until a dolphin began swimming around our chickee. A picture of the dolphin was worth braving the no-see-ums and mosquitoes. Unfortunately, by the time I was out with a camera in hand the dolphin was long gone. The voracious insects on the other hand stayed put to have us for breakfast. Even lighting off four mosquito smoke coils, the Thermacell, and spraying bug repellent everywhere didn’t make much difference. I swung my towel around trying to create a little wind breaking up the swarm of insects. All of that helped only a very little. The little sons of bitches still stuck around making our life miserable. We made our breakfast learning to keep moving in the small space we have. Just as we thought we had them dissipated we disturbed the kayak cockpits to find there were more swarms hiding in there. It is becoming our experience Deet products are not effective, smoke coils don’t work, and they laugh at the Thermacell. These bastards are a different breed down here in the Everglades. In case you couldn’t tell, my frustration level with these mosquitoes and no-see-ums is rising.

For my morning meal, I made another breakfast burrito, but this time anticipating it would be messy I leaned out over the water to eat it. I saw a crab dart away. That surprised me as I figured it would move in to eat what was falling off my burrito. Another, much larger crab quickly moved into view to grab breakfast which explained the smaller one rushing to safety.

I find blue crabs to be a funny looking creature. They look like some bizarre alien from a horror movie. This little beast grabbed pieces of my burrito with each claw as the remnants drifted down from the water’s surface and began stuffing his oddly shaped face. Small fish moved in to eat his scraps.

Apparently, it doesn’t take much to entertain Jamie and me. We watched him dance around eating scraps for quite a while. Eventually he had his fill and moved back under the shadows of the chickee. I managed to get a few decent pictures of him before he made his departure.

We finished the morning ritual of packing the kayaks and launched. We have reached the stage of the trip where we have a rhythm down. Jamie and I don’t need to say anything about it being time to pack or if we are going to stay longer. We just know.

Today’s paddle continued up Shark River against the current. Today also marks the first alligator we have seen. It was small at about five or six feet. It could have also been a crocodile. We didn’t get the best look at it before it dove in the water at our approach and then submerged completely when we got even closer. Despite all the media frenzy about alligators extolling how dangerous they are, alligators really do not like interacting with people. It is my experience they only get aggressive when it is mating season, they are protecting their young, or some idiot has been feeding them. In all the years of paddling and in all our encounters neither of us has ever had a problem.

Jamie and I even had an unusual alligator experience on a remote branch of the Auscilla River when we were seventeen or eighteen years old. Our friend Luke’s stepdad owned property in North Florida and gave us free run of it. His property fronted the river, so we always made sure to bring a canoe with us. One weekend we were paddling and exploring off the sides of the river when we found ourselves in a cove so full of alligators, we were pushing against their bodies with the paddles to propel the canoe forward. They were hitting the bottom of the aluminum canoe trying to get out of our way, but their numbers were so dense there was nowhere for them to go. If we were going to ever have a problem with alligators getting aggressive and trying to hurt us, that would have been the time.

If you will bear with me for one more alligator story, when I was twenty years old, I was still involved in Troop 3 leading a high adventure crew. Phil, one of the scout’s fathers and I were in the lead canoe paddling down the Withlacoochee River on a four-day trip. We had gotten well ahead of the rest of the boys so stopped to wait on them to catch up. While waiting, we happened to notice a ten-foot alligator on the far bank. We waited about 30 minutes for the boys and in that time the alligator never moved. We also noticed he had a ferociously bad smell like he was dead and decaying. Even as we moved closer, he never moved. About 20 feet away I noticed he had what looked like a bullet wound to the side of his head with dried blood caked down behind his eye. I am sure you see where this is going. I was there and too stupid to leave well enough alone.

The two of us became convinced this gator had been shot and was dead. I also knew the boys in the next canoe coming around the bend had a camera. A brilliantly bad idea popped into my head. I wanted a picture of me on top of this ten-foot alligator. Through the camera, no one would know it was dead. Phil thought it was a great idea too. I hollered out to Tim I wanted a picture of me on the gator. I was in the stern position and backed the canoe up to the dead gator. Tim took the first picture at that moment. I poked the gator with my paddle and to my sheer horror and surprise that gator wasn’t dead. He hissed as he lunged towards me. I learned some valuable lessons in that moment. The first was if that alligator wanted to hurt me it could have easily done so as his speed was faster than anything I could have reacted to. The second is that alligators are powerful animals. When he lunged he was aiming for the water. He hit the back of the canoe and slipped underneath, but there wasn’t enough water for the both of us. He picked up the canoe on his back as his powerful tail pushed side to side carrying us with him. At that moment, Phil and I both regained our ability to act and dug in with our paddles. We paddled for all we were worth while the alligator did the same. I think we set a new speed record for paddling a canoe. The third lesson I learned that day is I have friends who laugh at my stupidity. Tim printed an enlarged copy of that picture and gave it to me at my wedding the next year making sure everybody knew the story. He has never let me forget what happened that day. I certainly respect these prehistoric lizards, but neither am I unrealistically afraid of them.

Alright, back to the Wilderness Waterway…

We also saw plenty of dolphins chasing fish this morning. They too kept their distance. I would love to get a picture of a dolphin breaching next to Jamie’s kayak. They will surface and I will try to track them with the camera only to have them pop up on the other side of me. Lining up my kayak with Jamie’s kayak and a dolphin randomly surfacing is proving to be too difficult. So far it doesn’t look like it will happen.

A few hours of paddling later we arrived at Harney River where it was just our luck the tide had turned so we were continuing to push against the current on the new river we had just entered. Our average speed dropped significantly making today the slowest moving day yet. We covered just over ten miles all against the current. Temperatures today were hot in the low 80’s with no wind. Our only relief from the sun was some intermittent cloud cover and the few mangrove trees growing out over the water we could hide under to take breaks. The problem with the mangroves is that is also where the mosquitoes are hiding. It seems when the first one finds us it goes to tell all its friends. Resting under the shade of the mangroves has a short time limit.

Did you know there are waterfalls in the Everglades? They are only a couple of feet high, but it is water and it is falling. As we paddle up to them they sound like a North Carolina rocky creek. When the tide falls, water rushes out from the mangrove islands along channels carved into the hard soil. These channels lead to the narrow passages we are paddling on where the water flows over the edge into the river. These channels of water with their falling water are spaced out just frequently enough so at low tide the soft sounds leave a peaceful feeling in the air.

It was a good day today. We were following a route that was super easy to navigate and we did not have the wind or waves to contend with. We paddled at a steady, but leisurely pace against the tidal current and I got to spend time catching up with my friend. Jamie leads a very unorthodox life. A life I find very interesting. I love hearing him talk about his latest projects and plans.

We arrived at the Harney River Chickee to discover it was already occupied by a fearless pelican. He staked out his claim on the one side of the chickee and refused to move. Once our kayaks were unloaded and pulled up on the platform, Mr. Pelican decided our kayaks belonged to him now. He walked up and down both of them inspecting them to his satisfaction. He was our evening entertainment. Even as I crossed to his side of the chickee for pictures, he would keep his distance, but refused to cede the chickee to us. He eventually settled onto the end of my kayak hanging over the water nestling his large beak down to his body all the while watching us. Soon after we finished dinner he must of had enough of us deciding we didn’t have any fish to throw his way so he finally flew away. We are sure someone has been feeding him as he was entirely too bold.

The day started with battling the Everglades insects and it ended the same way. It was like someone called all of them to descend on us at once. One moment it was peaceful and pleasant, the next the biting insects were so thick it was unbearable.

We finished the day killing the mosquitoes and no-see-ums that had made their way inside the tent with us. As Jamie said, “I like nature, I just want it to stay out there!”. The ceiling of the tent looks like a murder scene. Blood is splattered all over the fabric.

A good portion of today’s journal has been about the mosquitoes and no-see-ums. They are something we have to contend with, but don’t get me wrong, we are still having a great time out here.

The bright moon rose on time bathing the river with a soft white light as we laid down. The fish became active under the moonlight splashing all around the chickee. It is peaceful here. Even the low roar of billions of mosquitoes is a white noise lulling us to sleep.