The Everglades in the morning
On the water at dawn, before the sun peeks over the thin mangrove line of an island (one of many in these gulf
waters), I cannot think of a better time of day to be on the water in the Everglades. I decided to not bring my GPS for
this trip and so I followed Vivian's silhouette, leading us from Pavilion to the south side of Crate Key on a very calm
Sunday morning. Fred, Judy and Alex were the only 3 of our group that had the nerve to get up early enough to join us
for our paddle back to Chokoloskee Island. We left many friends back on Pavilion at 6:30 am, most of them still
sleeping or barely stirring in their tents. "Why?" they ask, "Why do you get up so early?". They carry on conversations
concerning our early morning regimen (which has been compared to a military exercise) that begins in the wee hours
of the dark morning. They shake and scratch their heads, dumbfounded as we bid them goodnight and retire to our
tent the evening before departure.
But I am going to tell you that without any doubt, sunrise is the best time to be on the water in the Everglades. To
watch the Everglades awaken is a peaceful experience. When you are on an island, you learn that the Everglades
sleeps soundly like a baby. Just before sunrise, the Everglades barely begins to stir, slowly awakens and gradually
begins its daily rhythm. The sun will soon burn through the day as animals fight for a living before the heat forces them
to rest and wait for dusk. The bright sun washes everything out, making photography a challenge. But in the early
morning as the Everglades stretches and yawns, the winds do not yet disturb, and the light is warm and soft. The
blackness begins to turn blue and then orange. Mangrove shorelines become more distinguishable. The rustling
water disturbed by your boat reflects the blue, orange, and yellow patterns of the sky and they dance around your boat
as you cut gently through them. The only sound is your paddle stirring up the water. Eventually, the sky brightens
enough that silhouettes of bird flocks interrupt the sky. Ibis and snowy egret make their journey to some feeding place.
Occasionally, a lone great white egret passes by. Outlines of osprey and hawk are noticeable in the tree tops,
perhaps they are waiting for more daylight to begin their hunt for food. Bait fish jump as the world below your boat
begins to stir. This is a joyous time to be alive in the Everglades. At last, the sun peeks over the horizon and it rises
so quickly. You have to be there from the start to see the fullness of an Everglades dawn as it grows vibrant with
colors.
The gulf waters
We left Chokoloskee Island by 8:30 am on Saturday. The waters were calm but we expected strong southerly winds
as the day progressed. Heading out Rabbit Key pass, we caught the outgoing tide. In this area, we observed many
fledged osprey practicing their flight skills. On Turtle Key where we stopped for a short break, we watched two young
eagles resting in the high tree tops. I pulled over along the shell-lined shore to capture a few photos with the telephoto.
Fred, Judy and Vivian were casually paddling along, Vivian trolling her line. A powerboat ran by, way to close for my
comfort. I braced for the surf that would come from the wake of the boat. Absentmindedly, I had left my pelican case
open with one camera inside. The surf created by the boat's wake crashed broadside into my boat as I braced with
one foot on the ground. The surf was strong enough to send a liter or more of water over the gunwales where the open
pelican case sat. For the first time, salt water entered the inside of my pelican case. After cursing a blue streak, I
assessed the damage and thankfully, only a few sprays contacted the foam, none contacted the camera and lens. A
close call, I'll never make that mistake again, not following my own advice which is to never leave the pelican case
unlocked and open.
With the incoming tide all morning, we decided to pass the east side of Rabbit Key, thinking there would be enough
water to get over the shoal. The sand bar that runs out of Rabbit Key has changed over the years. It has grown in
height and now has a lot of square footage even at high tide. The exposed sandbar came all the way to the edge of
the adjacent island barely leaving enough water for our small boats to pass over. The beach area on the southeast
side of Rabbit where the port-o-let is located appears to be getting smaller as the point gets larger.
From there, we headed out to the open gulf. A strange kind of haze appeared over the water, coming in from the
west. A couple years ago, we had seen a dense fog overtake the gulf when camping on Picnic Key. The fog was so
thick you could not see Tiger Key, only a few hundred feet away. Here are some photos from that trip. This time, the
haze did not get as thick, but it was enough to make the sky and water appear as one. I love this effect when
photographing, especially when capturing colorful boats floating through the abyss. Today was especially beautiful
with the sun behind, illuminating the shiny boats.
We were on our way to Pavilion Key, barely a 3-hour paddle. We arrived early to set up camp and then proceeded
back out on the water for some more paddling. As we approached Pavilion, we passed Little Pavilion Key. The
outgoing tide was low enough that much of the tiny key was revealed and covered with shorebirds intermingled
among small groups of cormorants. The sun lit up the sand and the large dark cormorants added some contrast. It
was a beautiful scene as the sliver of sandy bar interrupted the blue sky and water. Vivian had the tent in her boat and
she generously offered to set it up while I stayed on Little Pavilion Key. Most of the shorebirds were royal terns but
there was a good size flock of oystercatchers. The oystercatchers have thick red beaks, easily distinguished from the
other birds. Plus, they make a high pitched tweeting sound as they fly. The royal terns were noisy in a way I had never
heard them. Difficult to describe but they had a loud, "mooing" sound. There were lots of interactions among them. I
staked out and tried to capture some shots from the boat. The birds, however moved away, like water from oil. I got
out of the boat and attempted to get closer but most of them flew off to a space no less than a couple hundred feet
away. That's the problem (for photographing) out here, the birds have so much space, there is no need for them to
stick around. I noticed an odd scene, two cattle egret standing among the smaller shorebirds. What were cattle egret
doing out here? I imagined them wondering to themselves, "Where are the cows?" Maybe the terns were attracting
them. Cattle egrets are known to nest on mangrove islands, but they feed on bugs, not marine animals. These two
were just standing around, not attempting to eat anything. Go figure.
Pavilion Key
It was about noon, not the best light for photographing white birds. Any flight shot I attempted at the tern island
included low flying birds in a banking position. Otherwise, not even worth the trouble. I headed to Pavilion, excited
about seeing so many friends who would be meeting us there. Michaleen and Erika had set up camp the day before
and were out paddling when we arrived. Toby and Kathy, two experienced Watertribe paddlers had just arrived,
coming from Turkey Key; Kathy (dolphingal) in her Kayakpro Nemo and Toby(Whitecaps) in his new Kruger
Dreamcatcher. Our friend Alex (AlexO), who attempted his first Everglades Challenge race this year, had also come
from Turkey Key but was still paddling with Erika on the water. When I arrived, Fred and Judy were setting up their
tent. We camped on the large point that would receive the most wind, hopefully enough to keep the bugs away. The
disadvantage is that there is no shade. Thankfully, Toby had rigged a tarp (Cooke's tundra tarp) that offered enough
shade for all of us to comfortably sit in our camp chairs in the shaded area.
After a break and some lunch, I left the group and headed out to circumnavigate Pavilion. The south winds were
strong now, probably 15 knots or so. I passed the southern point where I had camped 5 years earlier with Michaleen.
It was hard to believe that it had been that long since being on Pavilion Key, probably the most popular campsite in
the Ten Thousand Islands. It's a love-hate relationship with Pavilion. It is loved for the beautiful beach located in one of
the most beautiful areas of the park. The gulf paddle between Picnic and Mormon Keys is beautiful with so much bird
and fish activity to see along the way. And Pavilion is right in the middle of it. But, Pavilion is notorious for being
overrun by aggressive raccoons, relentless in their quest for food and water. More recently, it was the rats that took
center stage. When hurricane Wilma blew through in 2005, it knocked down quite a bit of shade. And so for years we
had no great desire to go out there, having Rabbit and Mormon Keys available. But, nostalgia wins out and eventually
it was time to revisit Pavilion. We had a large group with us this time, so we needed the camp space anyway.
I returned around 3:30 pm, having paddled for about an hour or so around the island. The winds were coming in from
the southwest quite hard, but it was good to know that we would have breezes at our campsite. As the afternoon sun
wore on, we hung out and chatted (I photographed the shore birds), always something interesting to talk about with
this group. Everyone has a story to tell and the diversity of this group makes the conversation go just about anywhere.
It's an unusual mix of people; backgrounds that include Germany and Cuba. We got the real live Florida cracker
enjoying the company of an interior designer from Miami, a rock climber turned kayaker from Romania, a retired
marine biologist from New Jersey and world travelers that recently returned from several weeks in Bangledesh. The
diversity of this group is shadowed by a common interest (passion for most), which is paddling in the Everglades.
That's what brought us all here and that's what brings new friends into our lives.
Later, Forrest and his friend Rebecca arrived with Rebecca's Sea Pearl sail boat, in time to join us for dinner.
Suddenly, the average age of the group decreased 10 years with this youthful pair. As we continued talking, we
watched the sun set over the western horizon, darkness came and offered us a comfortable night on Pavilion. We
said goodnight knowing that we would not see most of our friends in the morning as they would leave the island at a
more respectable time. And so we end another camping season in the Everglades. Ending our season with good
company makes the anticipation for next season even greater. Until then, sunrises on Biscayne Bay will fill the
summer months.
On the water at dawn, before the sun peeks over the thin mangrove line of an island (one of many in these gulf
waters), I cannot think of a better time of day to be on the water in the Everglades. I decided to not bring my GPS for
this trip and so I followed Vivian's silhouette, leading us from Pavilion to the south side of Crate Key on a very calm
Sunday morning. Fred, Judy and Alex were the only 3 of our group that had the nerve to get up early enough to join us
for our paddle back to Chokoloskee Island. We left many friends back on Pavilion at 6:30 am, most of them still
sleeping or barely stirring in their tents. "Why?" they ask, "Why do you get up so early?". They carry on conversations
concerning our early morning regimen (which has been compared to a military exercise) that begins in the wee hours
of the dark morning. They shake and scratch their heads, dumbfounded as we bid them goodnight and retire to our
tent the evening before departure.
But I am going to tell you that without any doubt, sunrise is the best time to be on the water in the Everglades. To
watch the Everglades awaken is a peaceful experience. When you are on an island, you learn that the Everglades
sleeps soundly like a baby. Just before sunrise, the Everglades barely begins to stir, slowly awakens and gradually
begins its daily rhythm. The sun will soon burn through the day as animals fight for a living before the heat forces them
to rest and wait for dusk. The bright sun washes everything out, making photography a challenge. But in the early
morning as the Everglades stretches and yawns, the winds do not yet disturb, and the light is warm and soft. The
blackness begins to turn blue and then orange. Mangrove shorelines become more distinguishable. The rustling
water disturbed by your boat reflects the blue, orange, and yellow patterns of the sky and they dance around your boat
as you cut gently through them. The only sound is your paddle stirring up the water. Eventually, the sky brightens
enough that silhouettes of bird flocks interrupt the sky. Ibis and snowy egret make their journey to some feeding place.
Occasionally, a lone great white egret passes by. Outlines of osprey and hawk are noticeable in the tree tops,
perhaps they are waiting for more daylight to begin their hunt for food. Bait fish jump as the world below your boat
begins to stir. This is a joyous time to be alive in the Everglades. At last, the sun peeks over the horizon and it rises
so quickly. You have to be there from the start to see the fullness of an Everglades dawn as it grows vibrant with
colors.
The gulf waters
We left Chokoloskee Island by 8:30 am on Saturday. The waters were calm but we expected strong southerly winds
as the day progressed. Heading out Rabbit Key pass, we caught the outgoing tide. In this area, we observed many
fledged osprey practicing their flight skills. On Turtle Key where we stopped for a short break, we watched two young
eagles resting in the high tree tops. I pulled over along the shell-lined shore to capture a few photos with the telephoto.
Fred, Judy and Vivian were casually paddling along, Vivian trolling her line. A powerboat ran by, way to close for my
comfort. I braced for the surf that would come from the wake of the boat. Absentmindedly, I had left my pelican case
open with one camera inside. The surf created by the boat's wake crashed broadside into my boat as I braced with
one foot on the ground. The surf was strong enough to send a liter or more of water over the gunwales where the open
pelican case sat. For the first time, salt water entered the inside of my pelican case. After cursing a blue streak, I
assessed the damage and thankfully, only a few sprays contacted the foam, none contacted the camera and lens. A
close call, I'll never make that mistake again, not following my own advice which is to never leave the pelican case
unlocked and open.
With the incoming tide all morning, we decided to pass the east side of Rabbit Key, thinking there would be enough
water to get over the shoal. The sand bar that runs out of Rabbit Key has changed over the years. It has grown in
height and now has a lot of square footage even at high tide. The exposed sandbar came all the way to the edge of
the adjacent island barely leaving enough water for our small boats to pass over. The beach area on the southeast
side of Rabbit where the port-o-let is located appears to be getting smaller as the point gets larger.
From there, we headed out to the open gulf. A strange kind of haze appeared over the water, coming in from the
west. A couple years ago, we had seen a dense fog overtake the gulf when camping on Picnic Key. The fog was so
thick you could not see Tiger Key, only a few hundred feet away. Here are some photos from that trip. This time, the
haze did not get as thick, but it was enough to make the sky and water appear as one. I love this effect when
photographing, especially when capturing colorful boats floating through the abyss. Today was especially beautiful
with the sun behind, illuminating the shiny boats.
We were on our way to Pavilion Key, barely a 3-hour paddle. We arrived early to set up camp and then proceeded
back out on the water for some more paddling. As we approached Pavilion, we passed Little Pavilion Key. The
outgoing tide was low enough that much of the tiny key was revealed and covered with shorebirds intermingled
among small groups of cormorants. The sun lit up the sand and the large dark cormorants added some contrast. It
was a beautiful scene as the sliver of sandy bar interrupted the blue sky and water. Vivian had the tent in her boat and
she generously offered to set it up while I stayed on Little Pavilion Key. Most of the shorebirds were royal terns but
there was a good size flock of oystercatchers. The oystercatchers have thick red beaks, easily distinguished from the
other birds. Plus, they make a high pitched tweeting sound as they fly. The royal terns were noisy in a way I had never
heard them. Difficult to describe but they had a loud, "mooing" sound. There were lots of interactions among them. I
staked out and tried to capture some shots from the boat. The birds, however moved away, like water from oil. I got
out of the boat and attempted to get closer but most of them flew off to a space no less than a couple hundred feet
away. That's the problem (for photographing) out here, the birds have so much space, there is no need for them to
stick around. I noticed an odd scene, two cattle egret standing among the smaller shorebirds. What were cattle egret
doing out here? I imagined them wondering to themselves, "Where are the cows?" Maybe the terns were attracting
them. Cattle egrets are known to nest on mangrove islands, but they feed on bugs, not marine animals. These two
were just standing around, not attempting to eat anything. Go figure.
Pavilion Key
It was about noon, not the best light for photographing white birds. Any flight shot I attempted at the tern island
included low flying birds in a banking position. Otherwise, not even worth the trouble. I headed to Pavilion, excited
about seeing so many friends who would be meeting us there. Michaleen and Erika had set up camp the day before
and were out paddling when we arrived. Toby and Kathy, two experienced Watertribe paddlers had just arrived,
coming from Turkey Key; Kathy (dolphingal) in her Kayakpro Nemo and Toby(Whitecaps) in his new Kruger
Dreamcatcher. Our friend Alex (AlexO), who attempted his first Everglades Challenge race this year, had also come
from Turkey Key but was still paddling with Erika on the water. When I arrived, Fred and Judy were setting up their
tent. We camped on the large point that would receive the most wind, hopefully enough to keep the bugs away. The
disadvantage is that there is no shade. Thankfully, Toby had rigged a tarp (Cooke's tundra tarp) that offered enough
shade for all of us to comfortably sit in our camp chairs in the shaded area.
After a break and some lunch, I left the group and headed out to circumnavigate Pavilion. The south winds were
strong now, probably 15 knots or so. I passed the southern point where I had camped 5 years earlier with Michaleen.
It was hard to believe that it had been that long since being on Pavilion Key, probably the most popular campsite in
the Ten Thousand Islands. It's a love-hate relationship with Pavilion. It is loved for the beautiful beach located in one of
the most beautiful areas of the park. The gulf paddle between Picnic and Mormon Keys is beautiful with so much bird
and fish activity to see along the way. And Pavilion is right in the middle of it. But, Pavilion is notorious for being
overrun by aggressive raccoons, relentless in their quest for food and water. More recently, it was the rats that took
center stage. When hurricane Wilma blew through in 2005, it knocked down quite a bit of shade. And so for years we
had no great desire to go out there, having Rabbit and Mormon Keys available. But, nostalgia wins out and eventually
it was time to revisit Pavilion. We had a large group with us this time, so we needed the camp space anyway.
I returned around 3:30 pm, having paddled for about an hour or so around the island. The winds were coming in from
the southwest quite hard, but it was good to know that we would have breezes at our campsite. As the afternoon sun
wore on, we hung out and chatted (I photographed the shore birds), always something interesting to talk about with
this group. Everyone has a story to tell and the diversity of this group makes the conversation go just about anywhere.
It's an unusual mix of people; backgrounds that include Germany and Cuba. We got the real live Florida cracker
enjoying the company of an interior designer from Miami, a rock climber turned kayaker from Romania, a retired
marine biologist from New Jersey and world travelers that recently returned from several weeks in Bangledesh. The
diversity of this group is shadowed by a common interest (passion for most), which is paddling in the Everglades.
That's what brought us all here and that's what brings new friends into our lives.
Later, Forrest and his friend Rebecca arrived with Rebecca's Sea Pearl sail boat, in time to join us for dinner.
Suddenly, the average age of the group decreased 10 years with this youthful pair. As we continued talking, we
watched the sun set over the western horizon, darkness came and offered us a comfortable night on Pavilion. We
said goodnight knowing that we would not see most of our friends in the morning as they would leave the island at a
more respectable time. And so we end another camping season in the Everglades. Ending our season with good
company makes the anticipation for next season even greater. Until then, sunrises on Biscayne Bay will fill the
summer months.
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| All Rights Reserved. Copyright Constance Mier, 2007-2012 |
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