| The Lostmans River New Years Eve Trip, 2006 |
The yearly new year’s eve trip, Kayaking in the Everglades, 2006
Our traditional New Years celebration is kayaking the Everglades. This year, due to fewer holiday commitments, we managed a 6-day paddling trip
to bring in the new year. With renewed energy and a lower stress level, I’m going to convey by word and photo my experience in the everglades
wilderness; home away from home.
I brought two cameras for this trip, the waterproof Pentax Optio (the paddling camera) and the non-waterproof Canon Powershot S3 (the camping
camera). For the Canon, I also brought a circular polarizer filter, a teleconverter lens, a wide-angle lens and a tripod. I kept the Canon and lenses in a
pelican 1200 case along with the tripod inside my hatch. I used the little waterproof Pentax for shooting from the boat and reserved the Canon for the
campsite photos.
This is one of the busiest seasons in the park, so getting permits for camping is often difficult. Because the park only issues permits within 24 hours
prior (and only in person), we made an additional trip to the park station in Everglades City on Dec 26 to get out permits for Dec 27 through January
31. We got lucky as there were at least 20 people standing in line at the station at 7:40 am (the doors open at 8 am). Luckily, we got all the sites we
wanted and happily drove back to Miami to prepare for the trip.
The itinerary was the following:
Below is a picture of the motley crew on our last night (after 5 days of paddling and primitive camping) at the Lopez River campsite.
Our traditional New Years celebration is kayaking the Everglades. This year, due to fewer holiday commitments, we managed a 6-day paddling trip
to bring in the new year. With renewed energy and a lower stress level, I’m going to convey by word and photo my experience in the everglades
wilderness; home away from home.
I brought two cameras for this trip, the waterproof Pentax Optio (the paddling camera) and the non-waterproof Canon Powershot S3 (the camping
camera). For the Canon, I also brought a circular polarizer filter, a teleconverter lens, a wide-angle lens and a tripod. I kept the Canon and lenses in a
pelican 1200 case along with the tripod inside my hatch. I used the little waterproof Pentax for shooting from the boat and reserved the Canon for the
campsite photos.
This is one of the busiest seasons in the park, so getting permits for camping is often difficult. Because the park only issues permits within 24 hours
prior (and only in person), we made an additional trip to the park station in Everglades City on Dec 26 to get out permits for Dec 27 through January
31. We got lucky as there were at least 20 people standing in line at the station at 7:40 am (the doors open at 8 am). Luckily, we got all the sites we
wanted and happily drove back to Miami to prepare for the trip.
The itinerary was the following:
- Dec 27th - Chokoloskee to Mormon Key (14 miles)
- Dec 28th – Mormon Key to Hog Key (8.5 miles)
- Dec 29th – Hog Key to Lostmans Five (12 miles)
- Dec 30th – Lostmans Five to The Watson’s Place with a detour into Gopher Creek) (13.5 miles)
- Dec 31st – The Watson’s Place to Lopez River with a detour into Liquor Still Bay (15 miles)
- Jan 1st – Lopez River back to Chokoloskee (5 miles)
Below is a picture of the motley crew on our last night (after 5 days of paddling and primitive camping) at the Lopez River campsite.
Day 1
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 knots; not the best conditions for photographing from a boat. 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 an oyster bar in the bay. White pelicans, unlike their brown counterparts, rest on
oyster or sand bars rather than in trees. At best guess there must have been 200 of them huddled together. As my paddling companions continued toward the
pass, I detoured to get as close as I could without disturbing the birds. I managed to get some shots, though not as close as I would have liked. This particular
island of white pelicans is a common site this time of year.
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 knots; not the best conditions for photographing from a boat. 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 an oyster bar in the bay. White pelicans, unlike their brown counterparts, rest on
oyster or sand bars rather than in trees. At best guess there must have been 200 of them huddled together. As my paddling companions continued toward the
pass, I detoured to get as close as I could without disturbing the birds. I managed to get some shots, though not as close as I would have liked. 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 blueheron 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 (think of that sound fingernails make scraping a chalkboard; that’s the same
sound a boat makes when it scraps 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 easygoing? Hardly. To destroy that notion, simply head up Lostmans River or Indian Key Pass against the tide. Imagine
moving through wet cement; that should give you some idea of the intensity of the gulf tides. Because paddling against a tide means nothing more than pain, we
avoid it at all costs. On this day, we coasted out to the gulf, riding the tide and with the wind to our backs, it couldn't have been planned any better.
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 blueheron 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 (think of that sound fingernails make scraping a chalkboard; that’s the same
sound a boat makes when it scraps 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 easygoing? Hardly. To destroy that notion, simply head up Lostmans River or Indian Key Pass against the tide. Imagine
moving through wet cement; that should give you some idea of the intensity of the gulf tides. Because paddling against a tide means nothing more than pain, we
avoid it at all costs. On this day, we coasted out to the gulf, riding the 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 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. An interesting spectacle when the pelicans are feeding is the occasional gull that will hang around and when the
pelican makes a dive, the gull comes in for a landing. My curiosity was piqued by this interesting display of behavior, so with a little research, I ran across a study
that describes the pelican-gull relationship as “kleptoparasitism” (otherwise known as mooching, among us common folk). Here’s how it works, a gull identifies a
successful pelican (the one who catches the most fish) and hangs around the pelican waiting to kleptoparasitize it. When the pelican comes up with a mouthful of
fish, the gull is ready to capture the small fish that spill out of the pelican’s mouth. What an opportunist!
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 our camp faces
northwest. Mormon Key apparently derived its name from a settler named Richard Hamilton who homesteaded on the island in 1895 where he lived with his two
wives. From what I could tell of the island, I don’t think it could have been comfortably big enough for the two women!
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 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. An interesting spectacle when the pelicans are feeding is the occasional gull that will hang around and when the
pelican makes a dive, the gull comes in for a landing. My curiosity was piqued by this interesting display of behavior, so with a little research, I ran across a study
that describes the pelican-gull relationship as “kleptoparasitism” (otherwise known as mooching, among us common folk). Here’s how it works, a gull identifies a
successful pelican (the one who catches the most fish) and hangs around the pelican waiting to kleptoparasitize it. When the pelican comes up with a mouthful of
fish, the gull is ready to capture the small fish that spill out of the pelican’s mouth. What an opportunist!
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 our camp faces
northwest. Mormon Key apparently derived its name from a settler named Richard Hamilton who homesteaded on the island in 1895 where he lived with his two
wives. From what I could tell of the island, I don’t think it could have been comfortably big enough for the two women!
It’s our usual routine to paddle early morning before the winds kick up and arrive at camp fairly early in the afternoon. After setting up camp, this allows me time to
explore the area and case the joint for evening photo opportunities and more importantly to take cover before the no-see-ums make their evening raid. 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. And I was able to
capture the moments without wearing a mosquito net over my head. Early to bed, early to rise; the next day will bring us a new adventure on the water.
explore the area and case the joint for evening photo opportunities and more importantly to take cover before the no-see-ums make their evening raid. 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. And I was able to
capture the moments without wearing a mosquito net over my head. Early to bed, early to rise; the next day will bring us a new adventure on the water.
Day 2
We are in 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
while passing many New Turkey, Turkey and Bird Keys. Because we got a “late” start this day, my sunrise shots would wait another day.
We are in 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
while passing many New Turkey, Turkey and Bird Keys. Because we got a “late” start this day, my sunrise shots would wait another day.
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. I see several flocks of the birds this morning, providing me opportunity to photograph. We approach the inside of New Turkey
Key, a popular fishing and camping spot. Hurricane Wilma with her 20-ft water surge split this key in two. The camping port-a-johns use to sit where that surge
came through; they aren’t there anymore. As we pass the island, I spot a dozen vultures sitting in a dead tree. I approach carefully and get a few shots. I’ve
never noticed vultures out here before; but this year, I see lots of them.
hang out while drying their feathers. I see several flocks of the birds this morning, providing me opportunity to photograph. We approach the inside of New Turkey
Key, a popular fishing and camping spot. Hurricane Wilma with her 20-ft water surge split this key in two. The camping port-a-johns use to sit where that surge
came through; they aren’t there anymore. As we pass the island, I spot a dozen vultures sitting in a dead tree. I approach carefully and get a few shots. I’ve
never noticed vultures out here before; but this year, I see lots of them.
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 shots of the mangled mangroves
only to spot a bald eagle in one of those surviving trees. Unfortunately, due to lack of zoom capacity and a significant oyster bar between me and the bird, I was
only able to get a shot from the distance. 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 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.
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 shots of the mangled mangroves
only to spot a bald eagle in one of those surviving trees. Unfortunately, due to lack of zoom capacity and a significant oyster bar between me and the bird, I was
only able to get a shot from the distance. 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 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.
Our campsite is lovely, facing the west; perfect for sunset photography. 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
netting 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. All my photos were shot that evening with that netting over my head, a bit tricky. But I managed to get some
beautiful sunset beach camping shots with my companions going about their business. During this time, birds and sharks come into the shallow area to feed. A
lovely site! Eventually, the bugs win and the camera and tripod were promptly packed away by 6:30 pm. Another early evening, the next day would require a very
early start.
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
netting 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. All my photos were shot that evening with that netting over my head, a bit tricky. But I managed to get some
beautiful sunset beach camping shots with my companions going about their business. During this time, birds and sharks come into the shallow area to feed. A
lovely site! Eventually, the bugs win and the camera and tripod were promptly packed away by 6:30 pm. Another early evening, the next day would require a very
early start.
We arrive at Hog Key at noon. 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. At night, before the hurricanes, it was not unusual to hear a hog stomping around on the beach. How well they survived the hurricane is unknown to me,
but we missed the stomping 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. Some of the locals refer to the larger versions as boar coons. If you don't see them, 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 guys 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 cloth cover over your cockpit 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.
Hamilton. At night, before the hurricanes, it was not unusual to hear a hog stomping around on the beach. How well they survived the hurricane is unknown to me,
but we missed the stomping 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. Some of the locals refer to the larger versions as boar coons. If you don't see them, 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 guys 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 cloth cover over your cockpit 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.
Day 3
My 47-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 take the opportunity to capture the sunrise
while on the water and as we head into the beautiful and intense Lostmans River. The river will take us out of the gulf and into the backcountry of the 10,000
Islands. I capture several pictures along the way, while my fishing companion tells me that people come from all over the world to fish at the mouth of the
Lostmans. She tells me this as she hooks a huge mackerel. As usual, I am intent on capturing a sunrise in front of me and she is behind me so that I was not able
to get my 17-ft boat turned around quick enough to capture her catch. 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. As the sun rises, the lighting is awesome and with a
telephoto lens, the bird picture opportunities are great. We left Hog Key early so that we could ride the tide up Lostmans, making our early morning paddle a joy.
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 for a photo, the tide rushed me on further away.
My 47-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 take the opportunity to capture the sunrise
while on the water and as we head into the beautiful and intense Lostmans River. The river will take us out of the gulf and into the backcountry of the 10,000
Islands. I capture several pictures along the way, while my fishing companion tells me that people come from all over the world to fish at the mouth of the
Lostmans. She tells me this as she hooks a huge mackerel. As usual, I am intent on capturing a sunrise in front of me and she is behind me so that I was not able
to get my 17-ft boat turned around quick enough to capture her catch. 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. As the sun rises, the lighting is awesome and with a
telephoto lens, the bird picture opportunities are great. We left Hog Key early so that we could ride the tide up Lostmans, making our early morning paddle a joy.
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 for a photo, the tide rushed me on further away.
My fishing companion hooked a tarpon, which has the power of a 125 hp boat engine, not a casual ride for a kayak. Thankfully, it managed to get itself unhooked,
by simply straightening the hook and slipping off with its powerful “top feeder” jaws. As we arrived in Second Bay, flocks of white pelicans flew across, sometimes
forming a “V”, sometimes not. The lighting was excellent to capture their white feathers against the blue sky. We are now officially on the Wilderness Waterway,
which means we can continue our journey by following the markers, making navigation less “intellectual”.
To get to the Lostmans Five campsite, we cross Onion Key Bay, which contains Onion Key, a small mangrove island. At one time, Onion Key was slated for
development. In 1925 the Tropical Florida Development Corporation began to sell lots and construct a few buildings. 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 boat landing used for
bringing in prospective land buyers. 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.
by simply straightening the hook and slipping off with its powerful “top feeder” jaws. As we arrived in Second Bay, flocks of white pelicans flew across, sometimes
forming a “V”, sometimes not. The lighting was excellent to capture their white feathers against the blue sky. We are now officially on the Wilderness Waterway,
which means we can continue our journey by following the markers, making navigation less “intellectual”.
To get to the Lostmans Five campsite, we cross Onion Key Bay, which contains Onion Key, a small mangrove island. At one time, Onion Key was slated for
development. In 1925 the Tropical Florida Development Corporation began to sell lots and construct a few buildings. 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 boat landing used for
bringing in prospective land buyers. 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 shellmounds and 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 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 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, 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.
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 because of the time of year. After a nice dinner and conversation, we are again early to bed.
platforms built in the water at various locations. The other backcountry sites, such as Lostmans Five, are built upon Calusa shellmounds and 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 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 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, 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.
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 because of the time of year. After a nice dinner and conversation, we are again early to bed.
Day 4
Today, we headed to The Watson Place. We leave Lostmans early and are blessed with another beautiful day. The wind gods were kind to us 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. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.
Today, we headed to The Watson Place. We leave Lostmans early and are blessed with another beautiful day. The wind gods were kind to us 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. 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. I passed by the island to get some photos as 5 canoeists loaded 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 (see my Hells Bay trip story for a description). 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. A 65-yr old friend, Michaleen Stohrer, 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.
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. I passed by the island to get some photos as 5 canoeists loaded 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 (see my Hells Bay trip story for a description). 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. A 65-yr old friend, Michaleen Stohrer, 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, an interesting area where sacred Calusa shell mounds exist. 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 (see my Gopher Creek story for a detailed account). From here, we head over to Darwin’s Place,
another campsite, for lunch before heading across the rough 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. At the campsite, we meet some other kayakers from an eco-tour group commonly seen out here. Several captains
in Everglades City transport people out to these sites, give them 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 (even a day trip without kayaks), our friend Captain Charles Wright takes people to
some of the most remote spots in the park where you can photograph to your hearts content. His website is: http://www.chokoloskeecharters.com. 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!
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 (see my Gopher Creek story for a detailed account). From here, we head over to Darwin’s Place,
another campsite, for lunch before heading across the rough 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. At the campsite, we meet some other kayakers from an eco-tour group commonly seen out here. Several captains
in Everglades City transport people out to these sites, give them 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 (even a day trip without kayaks), our friend Captain Charles Wright takes people to
some of the most remote spots in the park where you can photograph to your hearts content. His website is: http://www.chokoloskeecharters.com. 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. 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. Unfortunately, several wardens (like Guy Bradley) attempted to
enforce the ban and were murdered as a result. Eventually, the fashion statement died and so did the hunting; but the bird populations have suffered ever since.
By the way, the park recently closed a large area (around Carl Ross Key) to boaters until March 15th, in order to protect two colonies of nesting spoonbills. Poetic
justice, I’d say!
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. Unfortunately, several wardens (like Guy Bradley) attempted to
enforce the ban and were murdered as a result. Eventually, the fashion statement died and so did the hunting; but the bird populations have suffered ever since.
By the way, the park recently closed a large area (around Carl Ross Key) to boaters until March 15th, in order to protect two colonies of nesting spoonbills. Poetic
justice, I’d say!
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 nasty and large. Because they are relatively shallow (2-12 ft), the winds cause a continuous surf action
across the bay, which can be tricky if the surf is coming at you from the side. Today, we would have 15-20 knots to our backs, so we “surfed” across that Chevelier
Bay, grateful for our luck. At last we are led into the Chatham River where a slack tide awaits us. About a mile down we come to the infamous Watson Place.
they are not. With 20-plus knot winds, these bays are nasty and large. Because they are relatively shallow (2-12 ft), the winds cause a continuous surf action
across the bay, which can be tricky if the surf is coming at you from the side. Today, we would have 15-20 knots to our backs, so we “surfed” across that Chevelier
Bay, grateful for our luck. At last we are led into the Chatham River where a slack tide awaits us. 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. Watson was infamous in these parts; he is believed to have murdered Belle Starr
(the famous woman outlaw) 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 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 in 1910 when he was murdered at Ted Smallwood’s store in Chokoloskee. Apparently, the locals believed
Watson to be the direct cause of a number of people’s deaths. 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 1910 hurricane). Consequently, the men fired off several rounds and Watson was no
more. For a “fictional” account of the story, the renowned author, Peter Mattheison 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!
(the famous woman outlaw) 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 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 in 1910 when he was murdered at Ted Smallwood’s store in Chokoloskee. Apparently, the locals believed
Watson to be the direct cause of a number of people’s deaths. 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 1910 hurricane). Consequently, the men fired off several rounds and Watson was no
more. For a “fictional” account of the story, the renowned author, Peter Mattheison 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!
Today, the campsite still contains several of Watson’s farm equipment and foundation of what was probably a cistern. Totch Brown’s family lived here for awhile
before the park took it over; I suspect some of the remains on the site are from the Brown’s short stint at sugar cane farming. I also suspect there are a few ghosts
that roam the area; perhaps one can be captured in the dark evening with a slow shutter speed. 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. 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! The poor man was exhausted.
That morning, he arrived at the ranger station expecting to get permits for an 8-day trip. All that was available was the Watson Place. We felt so sorry for him, as
we helped him unload his boat.
before the park took it over; I suspect some of the remains on the site are from the Brown’s short stint at sugar cane farming. I also suspect there are a few ghosts
that roam the area; perhaps one can be captured in the dark evening with a slow shutter speed. 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. 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! The poor man was exhausted.
That morning, he arrived at the ranger station expecting to get permits for an 8-day trip. 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 in contact with. We peeked out our windows and in the dark
saw several people, each with a head lamp. They looked like aliens with their wetsuits on. The group was the notorious Everglades Outward Bound. 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, so no one has actually seen these kids in daylight (except while on the
water). There were 10 people, 2 group leaders and 8 exhausted teenagers. 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. 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 string up 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. We try to get back to sleep, knowing very well that at 5 am sharp, those fishermen would be starting their
day. Thankfully for the outward bound group, the nocturnal teenagers can sleep through anything!
thunderous sounds of aluminum canoes banging against the ground and everything else they come in contact with. We peeked out our windows and in the dark
saw several people, each with a head lamp. They looked like aliens with their wetsuits on. The group was the notorious Everglades Outward Bound. 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, so no one has actually seen these kids in daylight (except while on the
water). There were 10 people, 2 group leaders and 8 exhausted teenagers. 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. 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 string up 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. We try to get back to sleep, knowing very well that at 5 am sharp, those fishermen would be starting their
day. Thankfully for the outward bound group, the nocturnal teenagers can sleep through anything!
Day 5 and 6
Our new year’s eve paddle! This trip will be a special one because 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. Totch Brown lived in
the 10,000 Islands almost his entire life. He died in 1996 but not before his autobiography was written: Totch: A life in the Everglades. Loren “Totch” Brown was
born in 1920 in Chokoloskee. His parents were 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 he made a small income from gator and coon hunting and cutting boat timber. The family lived in Camp Huston for a year with nothing
more than a lean-to for shelter. In the summer of 1931, they moved a couple miles away 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 Browns' shine was exceptional in these parts, being the only whiskey aged in the Everglades. It was stored
for 6 months in charred oak barrels before being sold (by the gallon). 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 pot smuggling.
Our new year’s eve paddle! This trip will be a special one because 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. Totch Brown lived in
the 10,000 Islands almost his entire life. He died in 1996 but not before his autobiography was written: Totch: A life in the Everglades. Loren “Totch” Brown was
born in 1920 in Chokoloskee. His parents were 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 he made a small income from gator and coon hunting and cutting boat timber. The family lived in Camp Huston for a year with nothing
more than a lean-to for shelter. In the summer of 1931, they moved a couple miles away 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 Browns' shine was exceptional in these parts, being the only whiskey aged in the Everglades. It was stored
for 6 months in charred oak barrels before being sold (by the gallon). 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 pot smuggling.
Our mission was to find that still. We knew the location of Liquor Still Bay, provided by a rudimentary map in Totch’s autobiography (you won’t find it on any park
service map). 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, and/or wooden planks. We searched along the mangroves and then, we found it! We spotted some wooden planks that led to an opening in the
mangroves. 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.
service map). 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, and/or wooden planks. We searched along the mangroves and then, we found it! We spotted some wooden planks that led to an opening in the
mangroves. 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 out-of-shape friend who has never kayaked or camped in the Everglades. 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 that was to stay here was a no-show, so we had the place to ourselves. It seems many folks get this far and decide they had enough of the
Everglades and head straight back home. Not us, we stay!
combination we often see out here; one guy who is fairly experienced and his out-of-shape friend who has never kayaked or camped in the Everglades. 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 that was to stay here was a no-show, so we had the place to ourselves. It seems many folks get this far and decide they 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 rainwater cistern he built still stands. You’ll find a wet-cement inscription that says:
child Lopes born April 20, 1892. The man picked the most beautiful location for a home in my opinion. 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.
child Lopes born April 20, 1892. The man picked the most beautiful location for a home in my opinion. 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 at 7:30 am meant arriving at Chokoloskee before 9 am. Along the way, I take several shots as the sun rises. Eventually we are on
Chokoloskee Bay and the little town is in site. There are several shoals along the way and there are many wading birds on them. We arrive at the take-out site
about 8:45 am, where we disturb a night heron trying to catch his breakfast. While the rest of the day will be spent cleaning gear and boats, we first stop into one of
our favorite places in Chokoloskee, Havana Café, to get our Cuban coffee fix. Now we are ready for the drive back to Miami.
Chokoloskee Bay and the little town is in site. There are several shoals along the way and there are many wading birds on them. We arrive at the take-out site
about 8:45 am, where we disturb a night heron trying to catch his breakfast. While the rest of the day will be spent cleaning gear and boats, we first stop into one of
our favorite places in Chokoloskee, Havana Café, to get our Cuban coffee fix. Now we are ready for the drive back to Miami.
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