DAY ONE:
We began heading toward the gulf of Mexico from Chokoloskee Island, crossing Chokoloskee Bay into Rabbit Key Pass. The winds were calm but would steadily pickup to 15-20 knot beam winds; not the best conditions for trolling so that did not last long. Did I mention it was really COLD! As we headed across the bay, I saw what looked like a white wall in the distance. As I got closer, it became clear that the wall was a flock of white pelicans gathered on a sandbar in the bay. White pelicans, unlike their brown counterparts, rest on sandbars rather than in trees. At best guess there must have been 200 of them huddled together all facing into the wind. This particular island of white pelicans is a common site this time of year.
We continued out toward the gulf. As you paddle through the islands, you’ll witness several flocks of birds flying overhead, typically ibises, terns, pelicans, egrets and cormorants. With the right lighting, the white flocks glow against a blue sky and green mangrove landscape. You’ll also see several wading birds among the mangroves and it’s not unusual to round a corner and have a blue heron fly out in front of you as you approach. Dolphins are also commonly seen as they follow the tides and feed in the shallows near the mangroves. Speaking of tides, many people come to the Everglades to kayak or canoe and believe the waters to be easygoing. True, the water is shallow in areas, but this is not always a good thing (you know that sound of fingers across a chalkboard; well, that’s the same sound your boat hull will make when it scrapes across an oyster bar). One has to be very mindful of the shoals, especially at low tide. True the water is relatively warm, compared to the north waters. But easy going? Hardly. To destroy that notion, simply head up Lostman’s River or Indian Key Pass against the tide. Imagine moving through wet cement; that should give you some idea of the intensity of this tidal area. Because paddling against a tide means nothing more than pain, we avoid it at all costs. Understanding how the tides and currents affect this area is a must in preparing an enjoyable trip! On this day, we coasted out to the gulf, riding the last of the outgoing tide and with the wind to our backs. It couldn’t have been planned any better!
As we entered the gulf, I noticed a very large head pop out of the water. My first thought was manatee, but with another appearance, it was clear that the animal was a very large loggerhead turtle. Loggerheads are the most common sea turtles in Florida and the shell can reach 40 inches and adults can weigh as much as 350 lb. I watched a graceful flock of common terns as they dive bombed the water several times. And of course there are always brown pelicans making their boisterous head dives into the water from as far up as 50 feet
The winds got worse as we were nearing Pavillion Key and we decided to take a lunch break at Duck Rock cove which offered us some peace from the persistent NW winds. As we were getting ready to land I see a lone solo canoer coming towards us, it was Andrew! I met him last year at the Watson place he was doing a fly fishing loop tour and after talking to him was encouraged to try touring from my solo canoe. And here I was, the coward in my sea kayak instead of the canoe. He had been fishing for 3 days starting at Rabbit Key and ending up at Watsons. He recounted his story at Rabbit Key pass he was casting to what he thought was a shark when it turned out to be an over 100lb tarpon and fought it for mere seconds to finally break off. Wow! Tarpon that big in the passes right now…..hmmmm…we ate lunch and bid him farewell as we headed for our first night’s camp.
We arrived at Mormon Key, our first campsite, early afternoon. Mormon Key sits near the mouth of the Chatham River and the beach area where we camp faces north. There are lot's of broken conch and clam shells at shore which can really scratch up your boat. Mormon Key apparently derived its name from a settler named Richard Hamilton who homesteaded on the island in 1895 where he lived with first and second wives simultaneously. From what I could tell of the island, I don’t think it could have been comfortably big enough for the two women! Poor Richard!
It’s our usual routine to paddle early morning and we are on the water at first light before the winds kick up predictably by 9:00 am and arrive at camp fairly early in the afternoon. After setting up camp, this allows me time to explore the area and more importantly to take cover before the no-see-ums make their evening raid. Usually we start preparing our meals by 4 pm in the early winter months when it gets dark early. We usually have everything put away and secure under kayak hatches except the desert and wine or brandy before the bugs make themselves known. While we eat dinner I boil some water to put into a thermos which get’s brought into the tent at night. At wake up call which is usually 4:30 am, I am able to make my breakfast which is usually oatmeal with tea or on long paddles a concoction of Carnation instant breakfast in vanilla or chocolate flavor with a few teaspoons of instant expresso and dry milk plus a cliff bar. This provides about 400 calories so I can get some miles in before I need to stop for a break. I can eat breakfast while packing my bags in the comfort of the tent and remain bug free. We were lucky this evening, the bugs stayed low and we were able to enjoy a fine evening on the beach, eating our dinner while watching the sunset. Early to bed, early to rise; the next day will bring us a new adventure on the water.
DAY TWO:
We are on the water by 8 am, this would be a fairly easygoing day for us, our shortest daily distance.
Depending on the tides, it is sometimes necessary to “go wide” into the gulf to avoid the shoals that surround many of the islands. But today, we don’t have that problem and we can take a more direct route to our destination, leading us behind some of the many keys such as New Turkey, Turkey and Bird Keys.
Today would be my fishing day and it was a beautiful windless day with perfect paddling conditions. The plan on these trips when fishing is basically to troll and stop here and there where there might be an opportunity to cast to a few points or interesting shoreline. But you really don’t stop moving to really work an area. The tide was perfect, a morning incoming which is the best tide to fish these islands as you can get near them with the higher water levels.
After the 2005 hurricanes, a lot of dead tree branches and trunks are scattered about the water. When the water is low enough, they provide cormorants a place to hang out while drying their feathers. They have also created some new fishing areas. As I round the point at Mormon Key I start catching small trout and then much larger trout. I was having a great time until the ranger showed up. Proving that I had a license and after showing him what a trout looked like, he left. The fishing continued to be so good I had to pinch the barb of my hook to make releasing the fish easier. I must have hooked and landed over 50 fish before I got to Turkey Key. It was a mixed bag of trout, jacks and of course lady fish. Not glamourous but a great time for someone that hasn’t been fishing in almost a month.
We approach the inside of New Turkey Key, a popular fishing and camping spot. Hurricane Wilma with her 20-ft water surge almost split this key in two. The camping port-a-johns use to sit where that surge came through; they aren’t there anymore. I get a much bigger hit on my trolled lure and started reeling the fish in to see a medium sized trout but it was missing half it’s body. Apparently something else was interested in it too.
As we continue paddling, I notice a flock of birds swirling around about 100 ft above the water. They appear to be frigate birds. I’ve only seen frigate birds in quantities of 1 or 2, never in a large flock. I’m not sure what they were, but they were glorious to watch. Sitting next to New Turkey Key is Turkey Key (not to be confused with one another). This key also experienced huge devastation from the hurricanes and I passed close by to get some casts at the mangroves no takers and the bite was off as it was now slack tide. As we get closer to Hog Key, I spot a duck-like bird about 100 feet away. It looked very much like a loon. I never would have considered it to be a loon except that 2 years ago while in the gulf paddling from Hog Key to Pavillion Key one early morning, I heard that unmistakable call. I was close enough to it that morning to see it clearly as it dipped into the water on several occasions. Today, this bird would not let me get close; but I am certain it was a loon. While I was intent on getting to the loon, a bull shark appeared, feeding in the shallows about 20 feet from my boat. I watched its tail and dorsal fins move in the water, as it busily ate its lunch was not interested in my lure that I tried to get him to eat so I paddled on.
We arrive at Hog Key around noon. This is not really a key but a peninsula that sticks out onto the gulf of mexico. Hog Key is so named because of the feral hogs that inhabit the place. Their ancestors lived on a hog farm created by Richard Hamilton in the early 1900's he farmed the hogs but their diet of oysters and crabs left them inedible. They were later changed to a diet of table scraps which made them more tolerable to eat. At night, before the hurricanes, it was not unusual to hear a hog rooting around on the beach. How well they survived the hurricane is unknown to me, but we missed the rooting that night. But, we can always count on those rascals raccoons. They are commonly spotted among the mangroves as you paddle and at low tide they come out to the oyster bars to feed. You know they are there as the tell-tale tracks are found all over the beach and all over your kayak in the morning. There is no fresh water to speak of in the 10,000 Islands and it is a hot commodity for any raccoon. Those little buggers are smart enough to figure out how to get it from you if you are not careful. Keep your water and food inside your sealed hatches at night. A cockpit cover is not enough to keep them from getting through, so don’t leave water and food in the cockpit. If you are in a canoe, use hard-sided containers with tightly sealed lids.
Our campsite is lovely, facing the west we have a beautiful Poinciana tree, a survivor of the hurricanes, near our site. Although we are not the only humans on the island, it is large enough that we don’t see the other party. A perfect, peaceful evening awaits us. But alas, our luck ran out. Right on time, the no-see-ums descend. We figured this would happen as there was no breeze to speak of. We ate dinner early and by 5 pm, I had the mosquito head net on. When camping out here, always wear long pants, long-sleeved shirts and socks. I also wear a hat and bandana; you can spray your clothing with deet and not worry about getting it directly on your skin. It’s too shallow to fish from the beach and going out on the kayak means you have to portage quite a way’s to get too water deep enough to float the kayak. As the tide slowly comes in, birds and small sharks come into the shallow area to feed. A lovely site! Eventually, the bugs win and it’s time to get in the tent by 6:30 pm. Another early evening, the next day would require a very early start. One good reason to stay here is the close proximity to the mouth of the Lostman’s River 3 miles away. It would be a great vacation to base camp here for a couple of days to do some fishing but make sure it’s when you have morning incoming tides to get the maximum benefit from your fishing vacation.
DAY THREE
My 48-yr-old muscles are feeling a bit tired today as we set out at 7 am. But the mild soreness is easily ignored, as I anticipate the opportunity to fish the mouth of the beautiful and intense Lostmans River. The river will take us out of the gulf and into the backcountry of the 10,000 Islands. As we paddle away from Hog Key to find deeper water approaching Lostmans I start catching some very large makeral it was a blast! Of course the usual trout and more makeral until in my haste to get into the channel to head up the river I accidently loose my grip on the fish and it sliced my finger open with it’s many small teeth. Well, good thing I have a bandana around my neck I tend to my finger and continue fishing while ignoring my blood stained kayak and fishing ensemble. Once inside the river I get such a hit on my rod that it literally almost rips my homemade rod holder from the bungies. I am being pulled backwards and Fred is shouting TARPON! I managed to rudder and sweep stroke enough to get my boat turned around and was able to grab the rod from the holder as the fish took off, line peeling from my reel and then it stopped, the fish was gone. I reeled in my lure to find the hook was completely straightened out! So Andrew was right, there are large tarpon in the rivers and passes this time of year. I had no idea and didn’t have the proper equipment for such a task . Anyway, I have to paddle now as we need to make it out of this river before the tide turns against us in about one hour. As the sun rises, the lighting is awesome and so was the fishing, sorry I couldn’t of stayed for more.
We left Hog Key early so that we could ride the tide up Lostmans, making our early morning paddle a joy. We come into the river (at first bay) where there is a large shoal and several birds wading. A cluster of white pelicans form a small island, great blue and a yellow-crown herons sit perched in mangroves. There is a large island that splits the river mouth into two channels. This island was the site of a horrible murder that Edgar J. Watson was also suspected in. Also, there was a ranger station on the SW corner where a tall antenna used to mark it’s location. Last years hurricane destroyed the old wooden building and antenna. Luckily I’ve had many nice lunch stops there and got to see this little piece of history before the hurricane destroyed it.
As I enjoy the beautiful mangroves and birds, a manatee shows itself about 30 feet from my boat. These guys are a bit elusive, and as I waited for it to come back up , the tide rushed me on further away. As we arrived in second bay, flocks of white pelicans flew across, sometimes forming a “V”, sometimes not, I think they were trying to spell my name; V, I, V. Once in second bay, we are now officially on the Wilderness Waterway, which means we can now follow the markers along the way, making navigation less “intellectual”.
To get to the Lostmans Five campsite, we cross Onion Key Bay, which contains Onion Key, a small mangrove island the site of over 1,000 years of occupation by the Calusa and Seminole. At one time, Onion Key was slated for development. In 1920's the headquarters of the Poinciana Company was based here and began to sell lots. Thankfully, it failed within a few years due to the hurricane of 1926 and eventually, it all became part of the national park (free from development). Our campsite was the site of the canoe landing used for bringing in prospective land buyers for the Onion Key development project. A couple years ago, the park decided to build a wooden platform in the campsite, due to the continuous state of mud that exists there. This makes for a cleaner, but cramped campsite. The park incurs a limit to campers on each designated site. Some of the larger sites, like The Watson Place, can have as many as 20 people. Lostmans Five is relatively small and has a limit of 2 parties and 10 people. Tonight there are 5 of us, all kayakers.
There are 2 kinds of campsites in the 10,000 Islands, gulf keys (beaches) and backcountry sites. Some of the backcountry sites are chickees, free standing platforms built in the water at various locations. The other backcountry sites, such as Lostmans Five, are built upon Calusa shell mounds, so are high enough to provide solid, dry ground. Before the park, people built homes on these sites and cleared hundreds of acres to grow various types of crops, like sugar cane, tomatoes and papayas. In fact, Chokoloskee is nothing more than a shell mound built by the Indians, now home to several hundred residents. Powerboaters, particularly fishermen, love to camp in the backcountry for 2 reasons: great fishing and docks at the sites. Often, we share our sites with powerboaters and while several people I know have bad stories to tell of such folks, my experience has generally been mostly a positive one. Powerboat camping is no different than car camping; it comes with 500 sq ft of tent space, a gas grill, a generator (against park rules), flood lights, radio, tables, chairs, and of course the kitchen sink. I don’t exaggerate; fortunately, most powerboating fishermen are quite nice. They in fact are quick to offer us ice, beer, use of their trash bags, and are typically respectful of kayakers and canoeist, in the campsites and on the water. At the very least, they simply leave us alone.
After setting up camp, we go back out to the water to explore a nearby river, for fishing and exploring until its time to come back to camp and prepare for dinner. The winds were now picking up again from the NW and became headwinds as we headed up the Lostman’s 5 creek. Once in the larger bay we had to struggle against it and decided to stop the exploration I went back to the more sheltered area to fish. After a few VERY SMALL snook, the bite just died. I couldn’t get a strike after casting a few miles of shoreline so decided to head back in as it was getting late and I had no idea what the bug situation would be.
Last year, I spent a night on Lostmans and witnessed a continuous traffic of bird flocks cross the sky in front of our dock as the sun set. I waited for that to happen this night, but alas, the birds did not appear as such; possibly the time of year. After a nice dinner and conversation, we are again early to bed.
DAY FOUR:
Today, we headed to The Watson Place. We leave Lostmans early and are blessed with another beautiful day. The wind gods will not be kind to us later today as we expected a front to come in; but, it stalled up north and we were spared (sorry, you northerners!). Today we paddled through several creeks including Plate and Alligator creeks. Plate creek was named by a Spanish homesteader, Gregorio Lopez who dropped a plate in the water. He then went on to Onion Key and because he ate his last onion there (without a plate), he named it Onion Key. This is one of the two stories of how the name got started. The second story is about a farmer and wife who farmed onions there. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.
The backcountry offers several open bays connected by creeks, like a string of pearls. On the creeks, we paddle through mangroves and come close to alligators already finding their sunspots early in the morning along with several wading birds feeding along the mangroves. We crossed Plate Creek Bay, where you find one of the backcountry chickees which used to be the site of the real estate office of the developer previously mentioned. I passed by the island and saw some canoeists loading up their boats. Chickee camping is fitting for canoes, but not so easy for kayakers when you are trying to get yourself and your gear in and out of the boat. We call this event “Chickee gymnastics”, not yet an Olympic sport, but definitely an exhibition. The 5 canoeists are women, paddling the entire Wilderness Waterway (99 miles between Chokoloskee and Flamingo). We see all kinds of people out here, I could write a book on that aspect alone. It’s not unusual to find lone paddlers, male or female spending days on end out here. My friend Michaleen (65 year old woman) goes out by herself for several days at a time. She brings a satellite phone to contact her husband daily. She has been my inspiration and I’ve learned much from that woman. It just goes to show, you are never too old for this stuff!
We take a small detour and explore Gopher Creek for awhile and did some fishing the snook had lock jaw but the goliath grouper were hitting the rootbeer lures, this is an interesting area where sacred Calusa shell mounds exist and where you can get out of your boat and do some hiking to explore. The area was hit hard by hurricane Andrew in 1992 and as a result, the mangroves along the creek are relatively young and short. This leaves several high standing dead trunks for birds to perch, perfect sightings for bird photos, and you’ll spot lots of them. The winds were now getting stronger as we can hear it from the protection of the creek we were in we need to get going.
From here, we head over to Darwin’s Place, another campsite, for lunch before heading across the rough waters of Chevelier Bay. Darwin’s Place, located on a creek that connects a couple bays is so named after the last private resident of this area, Arthur Darwin. The foundation of his house still exists there. At the campsite, we meet some other kayakers in an eco-tour group commonly seen out here. Several captains in Everglades City transport groups of people out to these sites, give them kayaks and camping gear and leave them there a couple of days to explore the area. This is a nice alternative for folks who don’t want to paddle long distances. If interested in doing this you won’t find a better transport than Captain Charles Wright. His boat is set up to cradle expensive composite boats so they don’t get damaged by the pounding they’ll get heading to these remote sites. Before leaving Darwin’s I caught a glimpse of an osprey swoop down toward a tree, snap off a large branch with her talons and fly off toward her nest with the branch in her grip. What a sight!
After lunch we head into the “very large” Chevelier Bay. Chevelier is named after the Frenchman who came here looking for Calusa gold treasure and spent most of his days digging around Gopher Creek where we had just come from. He was also one of the most notorious plume hunters in the area. This was about 100 years ago during the time when egrets and spoonbills were murdered by the thousands for their plumage in order to support a popular fashion for women’s hats. Hunters slaughtered the adults, leaving their babies to die unattended. Eventually, a brave woman, Mary Munroe stepped up and helped lead the way toward banning this horrific practice through education. Unfortunately, several wardens who attempted to enforce the ban were murdered along the way. Eventually, the fashion statement died and so did the hunting; but the bird populations have suffered ever since.
When you look at a marine map of the 10,000 Islands, you’ll notice several bays in the backcountry and think they are small bodies of water. In a kayak or canoe, they are not. With 20-plus knot winds, these bays are treacherous and large. Because they are relatively shallow (2-6 ft), the winds cause a continuous rolling surf action across the bay, which can be tricky if the surf is coming at you from beam. Today, we would have 20 knot winds at our backs, so we “surfed” across that Chevelier Bay, grateful for our luck. Finally my boat was a little lighter and was more responsive so I had fun catching and surfing waves to the Chatam River. At last we are led into the Chatham River where a slack tide awaits us, great planning on my part as this river is a nightmare to paddle against a spring tide.. About a mile down we come to the infamous Watson Place.
The Watson Place is the site of Ed Watson’s home and sugar cane plantation of 35 acres on an old indian shell mound. Watson is infamous in these parts; he is believed to have murdered Belle Starr (the famous woman outlaw) out west and came here to hide. He was a friendly sort and got on very well with his successful farm. He built a large 2 story home on this site for one of his wives and several children (I think he went through a few wives in his lifetime). The locals believe that Watson became wealthy because he killed his farmhands rather than pay them. Eventually, his luck ran out, the hurricane of 1910 destroyed his home and soon after, he was murdered at Ted Smallwood’s store in Chokoloskee. Apparently, the locals believed Watson to be the murderer of several people in the area after they found a couple of bodies floating in the river. Several men gathered at the Smallwood’s store waiting for Watson to appear on his boat (something he did regularly to get supplies). As he approached, the men greeted him with guns pointed in his direction. Watson pulled his gun and shot, but it misfired because it had been loaded with wet shells (compliments of the hurricane). Consequently, the men fired off several rounds and Watson was no more. For a “fictional” account of the story, the renowned author, Peter Mathieson has written 3 books; one in a third party voice, one in the voice of Watson’s son, and the other in the voice of Watson himself. The books are accurate accounts of the lifestyle of the Everglades 100 years ago, a way of life that makes chickee camping seem luxurious! I do recommend his first book “Killing Mr. Watson”.
Today, the campsite is less than an acre, it is the largest backcountry site, it still contains several of Watson’s farm equipment, a cistern and syrup kettle. I suspect there are a few ghosts that roam the area as well. You can easily see why Watson built where he did; the Chatham River is gorgeous and a beautiful sunset is captured from the dock overlooking the river. When camping on the river sites, it is common to see dolphins come by as they travel with the tide into and out of the backcountry. The tell-tale sound of the water spraying from their spouts tells you they are passing by so you can get to the water to watch these graceful animals swim by. We arrive at the campsite around 1:30 pm and we have 6 fishermen on the site with us. The bugs were kind to us this evening, so we hung out at our picnic table for some conversation and a little brandy. About 6:30, a lone canoeist, an elderly man, pulled up. He had just come from Everglades City (18 miles) and unlike my group that was going the opposite direction, he had to fight a headwind the entire way. He left at 9 am, so he paddled for over 9 hours in a 14’ Mohawk solo canoe! The poor man was exhausted. He had come to the ranger station expecting to get permits for an 8-day trip. But all that was available was the Watson Place. We felt so sorry for him, as we helped him unload his boat.
Finally, everyone retired into their respective tents by 8:30 pm. At about 12:30 pm, we were rudely awakened by a deliberate voice giving orders and the thunderous sounds of aluminum canoes banging against the ground and everything else they come into contact with. We peered out our windows and through the dark saw several people, each with a head lamp. They looked like aliens with their rain gear on. Who could it be? Oh yes, it was the notorious Outward Bound group. OK, I’m all for exposing children to the wilderness, by why make the experience as miserable for them as possible (my honest opinion from what I have witnessed on more than one occasion)? They travel by night and always arrive after everyone else is sound asleep. Although I have witnessed them in groups on the out islands working out “issues” while forming a circle or are separated to spend hours alone with only a pair of extra shoes to clutch instead of insect repellant. I don’t know what they are trying to teach these poor kids. There were 10 people, I suspect 2 group leaders and 8 kids. They have a system and in the dark they worked very efficiently to unload and get their poles and clothes line set up for their sleeping arrangement. I guess one of the rules is that they can’t talk to each other, so they worked in silence but made tons of noise. Only thing was, the headlamps were excessively bright, shining into everyone’s tents. Now, the Watson Place is huge, lots of tent space. But, where do these guys decide to set up their sleeping area? Right between my tent and the exhausted canoeist; I’m talking inches apart. They set up some poles, connected by a clothes line and then connect what look like pods to the line. The pods are nothing more than mosquito mesh (similar to the lifestyle of 100 years ago), one for each individual. At 1:30 am, they are all secured in their individual pods with no tarp over them. We try to get back to sleep, knowing very well that at 5 am sharp, those fishermen would be starting their day and so would we…revenge is sweet sometimes. Thankfully for the outward bound group, teenagers can sleep through anything!
DAY FIVE AND SIX:
Our new year’s eve paddle!
This trip will be a special one, we had a mission. Today we took a detour to explore Liquor Still Bay in search of the moonshine still built by Totch Brown’s father. We leave the pods and the lone canoeist and head up the Chatham River toward Huston Bay. Today, we would stray from the waterway and detour into the Huston River. Totch Brown lived in the 10,000 Islands practically all his life. He passed on in 1996 but managed to get his autobiography written: Totch: A life in the Everglades. Loren “Totch” Brown was born in 1920 in Chokoloskee. His parents were enterprising, hardy people, scratching out a living in the Everglades any way they could. In 1930, Totch’s father moved his family to the Huston River where they set up camp. From here, Totch’s father made a small income from gator and coon hunting and cutting boat timber. The family lived in Camp Huston, with nothing more than a lean-to for a year. In the summer of 1931, they moved on a couple miles to Liquor Still Bay.
During their stay at Camp Huston, Totch’s father had been going into Liquor Still Bay frequently with a purpose. In a remote end of the tiny bay, he built a shell mound and laid down a 50-ft dock of sorts that ran into a clearing he made in the mangroves. Totch’s father moved his family to this clearing where he had built a copper still to make moonshine (prohibition time). The family stayed on into 1932 before moving to the Watson Place, vacated years before. By the way, moonshining was but one of many illegal ventures in the 10,000 Islands. Back then rum running from the Bahamas was common and in later years, so was drug smuggling.
Our mission was to find that still. We knew the location of Liquor Still Bay. We followed a small creek that led us to Liquor Still Bay. We combed the shoreline keeping our eyes peeled for a shell mound, an opening in the mangroves. We searched along the mangroves and then, we found it! We spotted what looked like a possible opening and path in the mangroves. We got out of our kayaks and tried not to slip on the slick mud and walked back a few yards. And there it was; the old still, or at least the foundation of it. The copper still had been replaced by an aluminum replica. We figured Totch had done that and probably took people back in there for tours on occasion. We were so excited to have finally found this little bit of history in the wild Everglades. After several photos of the still, we left and moved on toward our last destination, Lopez River.
The Lopez River campsite is only 5 miles from Chokoloskee. We arrived at the site about the same time a couple kayak fishermen pulled up. This was the typical combination we often see out here; one guy who is fairly experienced and his friend who is a bit out-of-shape, has never kayaked and has never camped in the Everglades or anywhere else for that matter. They were in tiny 12’ SOT’s without rudders loaded so that the entire gear load was as high as the kayakers head right behind them in the tankwell. They had also done a very difficult paddle along the gulf and into the backcountry with the high winds. The 2 men perused the campsite and decided that they would move on. The experienced guy’s friend was over it, he wanted to get back home to his TV (his words). So they left. The other party who was to stay here that night was a no-show, so we had the place to ourselves. It seems many folks get this far and decide they’ve had enough of the Everglades and head straight back home. Not us, we stay!
This particular campsite is the former site of Gregorio Lopez’s homestead, the cistern still stands. The man picked the most beautiful location for a home in my opinion. It’s one of my favorite backcountry sites. Overlooking the Lopez River is awesome and as with the Watson Place, dolphins frequently pass by. We have a beautiful leisurely afternoon and eat an early dinner with our celebratory bottle of wine. It was a perfect ending to a perfect trip.
An early morning start, about 7:30 am to beat the incoming tide will mean that we are back in Chokoloskee before 9 am as this is an easy 5 miles if the winds and tides are not a problem. Along the way, I try to do some fishing but it’s one of those days like the last two the fish are just not interested so I don’t waste time. Eventually we are on Chokoloskee Bay and the little town is in site.
There are several shoals along the way and wading birds are many. We arrive at the take-out site about 8:45 am, where we disturb a night heron trying to catch his breakfast near the site. While the rest of the day will be spent cleaning gear and boats, we first stop into one of our favorite places to eat in Chokoloskee, the Havana Café, to get our Cuban coffee fix. BTW they make a good grouper sandwich but I prefer their grouper fillet grilled with garlic and a side of their excellent black beans and rice with salad.
Anyway, the trip is now over it was a great vacation, I wish my friend Michaleen would have been with us. For six days I did not hear a phone, read email, get stuck in traffic or hear the news. I only heard the sound of the Everglades and my paddle pulling through the water. At night the weather radio was my link to civilization and gave us the plan of action for the following day. I did not think about my business, cats, problems etc. The only thing I couldn’t get out of my mind were those annoying Burt Bacharach songs! Everyone deserves to disconnect every now and then, think of doing a trip down here it’s gorgeous
