A surreal overnight paddle to Picnic Key
February 14th, 2009
It was a mild 61 degrees when we arrived at the Everglades City rangers station at 7:30 am.  The humidity had been very high for several days prior, topping at 100%.  During our early
morning drive from Miami, we encountered light fog, but nothing as thick as I have seen before.  By the time we pulled into the launch site, the sky was a clear blue and there was very
little wind.  This gave Chokoloskee Bay a glass-like appearance as birds flew low over the water, casting brilliant reflections offered by the morning sun.  It felt good for a change to not
wear a jacket as we loaded our canoes.  The warm temperatures and calm water was very inviting as we anticipated a casual morning of fishing and photographing, riding the easy tide
out toward the gulf.

We began our crossing toward Indian Key pass identified about 1 1/2 miles away by the green and red channel markers.  The moon was about 75%, so the tide current would not be so
fast.  We could take our time and hang out around the oyster beds situated on the south side of the pass entrance. The photo below shows the bay as we began our crossing.  This is a
westerly view about 500 feet from the main shoreline where we had launched.










This was going to be a very easy paddle and since we were only paddling about 7 miles to Picnic Key, we would spend some time hanging out on the water for most of the day.  Picnic
Key is my favorite campsite in the Everglades National Park.  The beach is long and roomy with plenty of spaces for wind protection if needed.  After the hurricanes of 2005, much of the
shoreline was pushed back and many of the mangrove tree casualties were  buried in the sand leaving several trunks sticking out along the newly formed beach.  It's a beautiful scene and
one of my favorite campsites to photograph.  I looked forward to a clear sky sunset this evening and brought my tripod for the occasion. But as it turned out, this trip changed dramatically
and from a fishing point of view, not in a good way.  But from a photography point of view, the scenes captured throughout this trip were priceless.  This trip turned into a study of clouds
and interesting weather patterns. It was surreal at times and altered the mood of the trip.  It was one of the strangest weather patterns I have experienced in all the years I've been exploring
the Everglades.

Seconds after the above photo was taken, I began to notice a long veil of gray clouds formed above the distant mangroves that lined the southwest side of Chokoloskee Bay.  I figured that
these were fog clouds burning off as the sun rose intensely.  This were not particularly unusual, quite often the humidity creates these low lying clouds over the water out here.  Here's a
shot of the clouds.










Within minutes, the entire bay changed before my eyes.  The cloud banner that is shown above in the photo traveled toward the bay in a northerly direction.  Soon, the clouds thickened
and completely covered the south and east skies, leaving a thick film over the sun.  The water turned metallic in appearance and the mangroves became black and shadowy.  Visibility did
not change, so this was not your typical fog covering.  The photos below illustrate what I mean.  None of these photos was converted to grayscale, each one is as it was seen.











The mangroves shown in the top right photo above surround the oyster beds and a small lagoon just at the south base of Indian Key pass entrance.  Vivian fished around this area for
awhile as I watched and photographed the changing sky.  Within 30 minutes, the clouds passed over and were leaving behind the bright blue sky that prevailed earlier in the morning.  
Here's how that unfolded over the Indian Key pass channel (looking north).  











We had our blue sky back and the winds had not really increased to any significant amount.  We headed into the pass and slowly paddled toward the gulf.   I watched an osprey with a
fresh catch in a tree at about eye level along the way.  Other osprey and a hawk or two could be seen flying above.  Ibises, egrets and herons speckled the shoreline here and there.  
Soon, we were out in the more open area of the pass, near marker 7.  From this point, you get a clear view of the gulf as the channel passes on either side of Indian Key.  We crossed the
calm open waters in a westerly direction heading toward a tiny opening into a small lagoon.  From there, we take the creek  (we call it
The Le Mans) that eventually rides into Gaskin Bay.  
Once out into the bay, we headed in a southwest direction passing the eastern side of the very large Picnic Key. There is an island east of Picnic Key where I spotted a very large group of
cormorants swimming near the shoreline.  I figured there were about 50 of them.  I have seen cormorants in large groups like this before, but only on Biscayne Bay and only in the
summer.  They don't seem to be fishing, they are all facing the same direction, like a movie audience.  They must have spotted the two approaching canoes because soon, one by one
they flew off to a further point not too far away and scattered out more.

Vivian continued to fish, without any luck.  It seems the water was still a bit cold from the fronts that had been passing over south Florida in the past month.  The high-end fish (redfish,
snook) were probably all in the back country trying to stay warm.  We continued on toward Picnic Key and rounded the south point and headed toward our beach destination on the
southwest side.  It was low tide, but the beach area where we usually camp did not seem to low.  We could easily pull up our boats close enough to make unloading relatively easy.  There
were a couple fishermen loading their Carolina Skiff and apparently they had no luck with fishing the past couple days.  We took over their previous campsite and set up our tent.  After
lunch and short break sitting in the shade, we headed back out on the water for a short afternoon paddle.  By now it was about noon.  We were glad to get  set up early.  We knew that a
party of 16 boy scouts would be staying here as well and we wanted to make sure we got a good spot with a comfortable distance from the boys.  We got our wish.

Vivian and I paddled over to Tiger Key, I got out and checked out some of the south end beach area for potential camping sites.  In a strong wind, the area would serve as good protection,
but otherwise, I would not stay there.  In the low tide shallow water around Tiger Key I could see large sheepshead fish darting around.  Vivian was adamant about catching one but only
managed to hook a trout.  By now, the temperature was in the low 80s and with no wind and clouds to speak of, it was quite hot.  I decided to continue around Tiger Key and then head
back to the campsite.  I wanted to build a fire that evening, so while Vivian stayed on the water chasing fish, I could gather firewood.  Below is a shot near the north point of Tiger Key.  The
beach on the right is the popular camp site on this key, quite beautiful and easily accessible for powerboats.   Notice the boisterous cumulus clouds in the south horizon.  This was a sign of
things to come.









While walking up and down the beach gathering wood, I noticed what looked like smoke coming over the island.  It appeared as if it was coming from the north end of the island and there
also appeared to be darker smoke coming up over the mangroves.  I immediately thought it was a campfire gone awry.  But there was no smell.  I continued on with some camp chores
and kept noticing that the sky was becoming hazier by the second.  Within a few minutes, the entire sky was cloaked in a heavy fog.  It had actually come in from the south, apparently all
the way from Key West which had experienced heavy fog the evening prior.  Vivian was now fishing along Picnic Key's shore and I could barely see her.  At times, the visibility could not
have exceeded 500 feet.  Tiger Key, which is about 1/4 mile away from our campsite was entirely invisible.  Everything took on a gray silky look and it was quite beautiful.

Vivian came in from the water and by now, I had my camera out to photograph the scene.  Here are a few shots taken some time between 2-3 pm.  The one on the left shows the fog as it
rolled in, with blue skies still evident toward the northwest.  










The fog never left.  It oscillated in thickness because on occasion I could make out Tiger Key, but other times I could not.  Around 4 pm we prepared dinner and made a little fire.  Some of
the boy scouts went out into the water for a little paddling in front of Picnic Key.  They appeared ghost like on the water.  Later, the sun was setting, but you could not tell.  It was strange in
that it never seemed to get darker until the sun was completely set.  I continued to take photos and walk the beach before dark. The air was completely saturated with water and I had a
difficult time keeping my camera lens clear.   Here are some shots taken later in the evening as the sun began to set.  The bottom two photos were shot around 5:30 pm.





















We enjoyed our fire into the evening.  The temperature had dropped some, but with a light jacket and long sleeve shirt, it was quite comfortable.   It would be a pleasant night in the tent for
sleeping.  By 8:30 pm or so, we were in our sleeping bags reading and enjoying the peacefulness of the out going tide.

The next morning greeted us with the same heavy fog.  There was no reason to rush out of here.  We had an out going tide all morning, and with the low visibility, we decided to sleep in
and take our time.  Our usual go-time is 7 am, but this morning we decided to wait until 9 am or so.  We did not awake until 7 am and proceeded with our usual morning routine of eating
breakfast in the tent and then packing our stuff.  As we loaded our boats, the fog continued to lay heavily.  We weren't too worried about paddling into Indian Key pass, we can navigate that
familiar route easily with no visibility.  But, we did want to take another route back.  It's a route we had only done once before and were much less familiar with.  Instead of passing into the
creek we call the Le Mans, we headed into a tributary leading north into some small bays near Russell Key.  From there we followed the passage along the west side of Russell Key into
West Pass Bay and head to Lane Cove and Chokoloskee Bay.  We got on the water about 9:30 am and decided to take our time around Picnic Key for some fishing.  I was enjoying the
photo opportunities and wanted to spend as much time on the water as possible.  Here are 2 photos near Picnic Key before we headed around the south point toward Gaskin Bay.  On the
left is a shot of Tiger Key in the distance.  The right photo shows our campsite on Picnic Key in the background behind Vivian.











The visibility became worse as we paddled along the shoreline of Picnic Key.  We took our time before heading toward Russell Key, hoping to see the fog lift before we navigated through
our new route.  There are a couple of lone mangrove trees in the shoal sticking out of the south end of Picnic Key and in the heavy fog, they offered a surreal scene.  Several red breasted
mergansers were swimming around the area so I began paddling toward the trees to set up for some shots.  These would be front-lit shots, but the sun was so well cloaked in fog you
couldn't tell.  On my right toward the open gulf Vivian continued to fish.  All of a sudden I had two great scenes to photograph, Vivian in her canoe completely surrounded by gray and the
ghostly mangrove trees in front of me.  Here's a few shots of the scene.





















By the time we headed around the point of Picnic Key and began toward Gaskin Bay, some of the sky was beginning to clear.  The end of the fog would come soon, but for awhile, the
lighting was amazing.   By now, the morning sun was uncovered and casting a warm glow while the more northwesterly sky was still fogged over.  As Vivian passed in her boat, the
lighting and the reflections in the water were brilliant.  Here's an example.










Soon, the fog was a distance away, and the sky appeared as two types, one filled with gray fog and the other with complete blue.  Here are a couple shots of this transition from fog to clear
skies.










It was starting to feel very hot as the sun began to dominate the sky.  The entire sky was back to its normal winter self; a cumulus cloud here, a cumulus cloud there.  At this point, we were
in Gaskin Bay and Vivian was catching trout as I photographed.  Once out in West Pass Bay and Lane Cove, you can see a lot of wildlife activity going on.  Brown pelicans and royal terns
busily diving for a catch, dolphins feeding in the shallows and osprey flying above. So this would be a beautiful paddle, much more appealing than Indian Key pass that is busy with fast
moving powerboats.  Here are a couple shots of the area.














We were on Chokoloskee Bay by 11 am and by then, it was very hot.  The winds never stirred and it is on these clear days that you wish they would.  While passing into Lane Cove I
enjoyed the spectacle of the diving birds and the dolphins feeding close by.  Something very large in the water was spooked by my boat as I approached it within a few feet.  I watched the
heavy wake move away and wondered what the creature was that I scared away.  A few minutes earlier I had seen something dark come out of the water and disappear again.  I figured
it was a cormorant diving.  Several minutes later, I spotted a manatee's nose popping out of the water several hundred feet away.  I have heard stories of kayakers or canoiests being
capsized by a startled manatee that happened to be right where the boat passed over unexpectedly.  And I've had some precarious close encounters with these gentle giants myself,
including this one.  Here's a shot as we headed toward the more open bays.










We were back at the launch site by 12:30pm.  This trip began and ended under hot and sunny conditions, but it was heavy fog in between.  The fog rolled in around 3 pm on Saturday and
didn't leave until about 10 am the next morning.  I have never seen anything like it out here before.  And for the entire trip, the winds never reached 10 knots. The Everglades may look
monotonous to some, but it offers something new every time I come here.   
Click on photos below to view larger version.
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Copyright Constance Mier, 2009-10
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