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February 4, 2007, Sunday: An easy flight from Albany, through Philadelphia and on to Fort Myers. Arrived at 2:45, thirty minutes late. John was waiting for me when I arrived. We collected my bags and headed for Collier-Seminole State Park in the mini-van John had rented. We were to meet Scott, our guide for the week, at the park, where we would spend the night so that we could get an early start in the morning.
We arrived at the park around 5 PM and made our way to campsite 18 where we met Scott for the first time. Scott is a compact, strong and handsome man. It was hard to guess his age from his appearance, as he had a solid but youthful carriage. (As the days passed, we pieced together enough information to place his age at about 40 years.)
As it was raining and the site was muddy, John and I elected to sleep in the van rather than set up our tents and start tomorrow with everything wet. It rained heavily through the night, but began to taper off to an occasional shower toward morning. Sleeping was sporadic and uncomfortable, as I seemed to have a slow leak in my mattress, which required refilling every few hours, and John snored like a buzz-saw.

February 5, 2007, Monday: The day dawned cold, wet and gray. John and I grabbed a bagel and cream cheese, along with warm coffee at the Collier-Seminole Volunteer Center, then went with Scott to off-load the boats and pack for our trip. I soon found myself frustrated and angry, as several important items seemed to be missing from my bags. I was sure that my bags had been pilfered and my GPS unit taken, along with several smaller items that included my prescription sunglasses. I later found these items packed with the “civilian” clothes I had brought for a visit with friends after the kayaking trip. I was glad I eventually found them, but at the beginning of the trip their absence, along with the leaking mattress made for an ominous start.

John and I are experienced kayak campers, so we packed the boats quickly, a record according to Scott. We were on the water, headed down the Blackwater River to the Gulf of Mexico and the 10,000 Islands shortly after 9:45 AM. We had the help of the tide, as it was falling as we left, and we made good time. We reached the mouth of the Blackwater just before noon, so we stopped for lunch on a mud flat before venturing out into the Gulf of Mexico. We had covered about eight miles.
When we reached the Gulf, the wind was blowing steadily at 15 mph, with occasionally stronger gusts. The waves were not big, sometimes two feet, usually less. However, because the water was so shallow, the period between crests was only ten to twelve feet. Taking the waves on our beam, we were constantly wet. We reached our campsite on White Horse Key in mid-afternoon and immediately set up camp. We had covered another six miles, plus or minus.
John and I gathered firewood, while Scott prepared dinner. Scott loves to cook and he is good at it. Using two camp stoves, he prepared a South Carolina Low Country Boil (Potatoes, onions, sausage and shrimp, boiled in Old Bay shrimp boil seasonings) and fresh baked corn bread. What a feast! Just what we needed to end this cold, wet day. Everyone turned in early, hoping for better weather tomorrow, while I prepared to rouse myself every two or three hours to re-inflate my mattress.

February 6, 2007, Tuesday: It rained again. All night. I was cold. Inside my summer weight sleeping bag I was wearing long john bottoms, a long sleeved shirt, socks and a knit cap. And still I was cold. The dampness and the cold breeze that blew through my lightweight tent thoroughly chilled me. I covered my sleeping bag with my rain jacket to no avail. How I hated crawling out of that bag to re-inflate my mattress! I came to Florida for sunshine and warmth, and I was not getting it!
Thankfully, the rain tapered off toward morning and stopped around 7:30 AM. It was still gray and cold, but it was not raining. Scott made coffee right away and my spirits began to lift. There is nothing better than a good cup of coffee to start the day! Scott worked his cooking magic again and produced a delicious ham, egg and cheese omelet for breakfast.
We took our time waking up and packed at a leisurely pace, allowing our gear to dry out some before getting into our boats for the paddle to Lulu Key, our second camping spot.
The weather improved steadily. The paddle to Lulu Key campsite was short and easy. We arrived around 12:45 and immediately set up our kitchen and had lunch. Tents were in place shortly after that. John and I wanted to circumnavigate the island. We discussed it with Scott who had no problem with sending us off alone for a short time (He had a pretty good idea of our paddling skills by that time). We were to look for a cut through the mangroves that would bring us around the island and back to camp. Both John and I had good charts and I had a deck compass, so we figured we could always retrace our steps if things didn’t work out as expected.
As it turned out, that’s exactly what we had to do. We reached what looked like a mangrove tunnel very quickly. I poked the bow of my kayak into this opening and saw that it was very narrow and blocked by blow-downs. The tide was pushing through this opening pretty rapidly, which suggested that it might go through to the other side. But there was no way to get through, so I backed out before the current could push me into the strainers blocking the way.
As we paddled on, John and I debated whether that had been the cut Scott had told us about. I thought we had come upon it too soon. John wasn’t so sure. As we continued on with no cut appearing, it became apparent that he was right. The chart showed no way through the mangroves. They would dead end miles ahead. The only way back to camp was the way we had come.
Along the way, we saw lots of wildlife, mostly birds, which is one of the reasons for coming to this part of the country. While Osprey are common here, we were excited to see an enormous Bald Eagle that held its perch for a long time. We were able to watch it as we passed, until it lifted regally into the air and flew out of sight.
Back at camp, Scott had been at work preparing diner – pizza and fresh baked brownies! After dinner, as we gathered firewood, eight canoes appeared in the distance. They passed close by shore to our right and disappeared around the point. An Outward Bound group was Scott’s guess. Soon, two canoes reappeared and headed our way. They passed our location and came ashore down the beach to our left. A young woman leader appeared out of the growing darkness and sweetly asked if we objected to the group camping down the beach from us. Scott said that would be no problem, but that there was a better spot around the point, just beyond the spot where they had beached. This was in fact true. It was also Scott’s way of trying to move the group out of sight and earshot. After the leader had left, Scott noted that they always send the cutest and sweetest female to make such a request. Makes it harder for a bunch of guys to say no.
We had a quiet campfire despite our company. Everyone turned in to read or write at about 8 PM.

February 7, 2007, Wednesday: The night was warmer till about 5:30 AM. Then the temperature reached its lowest point of the night. A cold, damp, breeze was flowing through the no-see’ um netting under my rain fly. It cut into my light weight sleeping bag and through the layers I was sleeping in .
At 6:45 I opened one eye to see that there was going to be a glorious sunrise. I got up, pulled on polartec from head to toe and stepped out into the dawn with the better of the two digital cameras I had brought. I stood there watching the sun rise, shooting pictures, moving from time to time to find a better frame for the splendor that was unfolding before me.
Soon, Scott was making coffee and John was returning after answering “nature’s call”. After coffee and a pancake breakfast, it began to warm up. The sky continued to clear as we made plans and packed for a trip to Facahatchie Key. This would be a day trip, as we planned to stay at Lulu Key for a second night.
We left for Facahatchie at 10:45. The route, confusing to both John and me, wound back and forth between the mangrove islands, which all looked the same to us. Eventually we began to get our bearings and were able to relate features on our charts with the physical features we were seeing. We explored several “lakes”, which were relatively large open bodies of water within some of the mangrove islands, accessible only through narrow inlets, nearly invisible from any distance.
Along the way, we again saw lots of wildlife – Kingfishers, many Osprey, Brown Pelicans, Ibis, so elegant to look at but with a quack like a duck! We saw Heron, great and small, we saw Great Egrets. I even spotted a raccoon feeding near the water’s edge. Our most interesting sighting though was of a dolphin feeding very close to the mangrove roots. It would thrash back and forth, turning quickly and throwing up great splashes of water, beating the surface into a froth. I don’t know how it maneuvered so close to those roots, but it did. It put on quite a show!
When we reached Facahatchie Key we decided to stay out on an oyster bar for lunch, as the campsite at Facahatchie was in a woods with no beach, in the lea of the wind. That meant bugs! Scott had prepared humus, tomato, avocado, cheese and tortillas to assemble into wraps as we pleased, with orange slices and left over brownies for dessert. The sun was warm. The sky was blue. The spot was beautiful. Heaven!
We paddled back to camp, retracing our earlier path against an incoming tide, which provided a good workout. I sprinted back to the beach, like an old horse heading for the barn at the end of the day. When I arrived, I saw Outward Bound kids scattered singly about the beach. This really looked odd. They were sitting alone within hearing and often viewing range of each other, not saying a word or moving from their posts. The boy to the left of our campsite was lying down, clothed head to toe, with something covering his face. The girl to the right of our campsite was much the opposite. Dressed in a sports bra and short-shorts, she was stretched out, obviously trying to soak up all of the sun she could.
Scott said that this was probably some sort of “solo” experience, a common practice in Outward Bound programs. We wondered if the kids would be there all night. When the no-see‘ems descended as the sun and breeze dropped, we wondered how these kids, especially that lightly clad girl to our right, were going to survive. Soon an Outward Bound leader appeared and collected all of the kids.
The no-see ’ums were fierce that night. Bug spray didn’t seem to help. Only long sleeved shirts, long pants and socks offered some relief. We slapped our way through a great dinner. Scott called it “Burrito Supreme” – mashed beans, rice, onion, garlic and chicken, wrapped in a flour tortilla. Hearty and delicious!
After sunset we lit a campfire and the no-see ’ums went away. It was a beautiful night on the beach. There were millions of stars, water lapping quietly on the shore as the tide continued to rise, and what seemed like a miracle, the sound of crickets in the heart of a February winter! We all lingered for quite a while before turning in.

February 8, 2007, Thursday: It was a warmer night. I wasn’t cold at all. Even slept with my arms out of the bag at times. Still, I slept poorly because of the leaking sleeping pad. I was up every two or three hours to re-inflate the thing. It would deflate until my hip and shoulder were pressing into the hard sand. The pain at the pressure points would eventually wake me. I would shift around trying to get comfortable until finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d crawl out of my sleeping bag, find the valve and blow till the mattress was firm again. Then back into the bag until the discomfort drove me out once more.
I was up before 7 AM to once more experience the sunrise, which was just as glorious this morning as it was yesterday. And again, I shot lots of photos – you tend to do that with a digital camera because it costs you nothing. Scott made the usual good cup of coffee. He uses a stainless steel French press and coffee he ground just before the trip. It makes for unusually good camp coffee. Breakfast this morning was a scramble of potatoes, onions and eggs, served with hot sauce for those who wanted it. Very hearty and very good!
Our destination today was to be Panther Key and a new campsite. If Panther was undesirable for some reason, we had the option of camping on near-by Hog Key, or returning to White Horse Key as we made our way back toward the Blackwater River and the end of our sojourn tomorrow. The paddle to Panther was short, so we again broke camp at a leisurely pace and left for Panther at mid-morning.
The weather was beautiful, with bright blue skies, white clouds and abundant sunshine. There was just enough breeze to make paddling effortless and comfortable. This was the best and most relaxed paddling day so far!
We reached Panther Key just before noon and spotted a crowd on a point of land. As we rounded the point we saw many tents lined up parallel to the beach: another Outward Bound group! We paddled along the beach for some distance before electing to move on to Hog Key, a short paddle to the northwest. We had no particular animosity toward these Outward Bound groups. It’s just that we came on this trip hoping for as much of a wilderness experience as we could get in this very popular part of the world. Having this or any group as neighbors would not contribute to that experience.
We reached the southeast side of Hog Key and paddled west along the shore until we rounded a point and found our campsite. We had the island completely to ourselves. We set-up camp and made lunch. John and I pulled our chairs into the shade, he to write in his journal, I to read. We planned to relax this way for about an hour, then do a circumnavigation of a near-by unnamed mangrove island.
Hog is such an in-elegant name for such a beautiful key! This was arguably the prettiest and most comfortable campsite of our trip. White sand beaches, ringed intermittently with mangroves that sometimes touched the water, but were just as often set back. And the mangroves away from the beach were of a different variety. They did not produce the usual tangle of roots and branches seen surrounding the mangrove islands we passed. They were tall, even stately, and scattered through the interior of the key, leaving open spaces like a mature northern forest. There were white and purple morning glories and a strange vine-like cactus, something I had never seen before. The key was big and open enough to invite exploring by foot. I found all kinds of shells, Horse Shoe Crab shells, even a rib bone from a sea turtle!
About 2 PM, John and I launched the boats for our circumnavigation. Scott elected to stay behind and fish for our dinner meal. He said he would be coming to look for us if we didn’t return within two hours. We headed northwest through a pass between mangrove islands, and were soon making our way along the un-named island we hoped to circumnavigate, keeping the shore to our right. The island was large with a very irregular outline. John and I poked in and out of every nook and cranny we could find. We were looking for a passage between this island and Hog, as was shown on our charts. Eventually we found a passage. We paddled some distance through the passage, only to find that it was blocked by a high sandbar, a gift from a recent hurricane! We retraced our steps and chose the only reasonable route that would get us back to camp quickly. This was a circumnavigation of Hog Key as well. We picked up the pace, as we knew Scott would be concerned if we were significantly late. We didn’t want him heading off in the direction we had gone when we would be coming from behind him.
We arrived back at camp at 4 PM. Scott lifted a stringer to show us three large Sea Trout he had caught for our evening meal. Firewood was cut and neatly stacked just below the high water mark where Scott would build a fire and prepare a bed of coals to cook our feast.
While Scott began dinner preparations, John pulled up his chair and I wandered off with my camera to explore more of Hog Key and take pictures. When I returned, dinner preparations were well underway. The fish had been filleted, seasoned, wrapped in foil and were now baking on the hot coals. I could smell something delicious baking in the camp oven, while water boiled on a second burner. This was going to be some meal!
While I had the chance, I took a quick sea bath and shaved. Scott said he’d never had anybody shave on one of these trips before, but my beard grows thick and fast. After three days I find it hot and uncomfortable, so I always bring a razor along. It just helps me feel clean.
Dinner was everything we expected, and more. Along with the fresh fish, Scott produced seasoned couscous and homemade cheddar cheese biscuits, hot from the oven! Everything was delicious. As this was our last dinner of the trip, Scott went all out. He presented each of us with a fresh baked banana, drizzled with chocolate syrup for dessert. What a treat!
After dinner was cleaned up we sat near the fire and talked for a long time. The stars were beautiful as ever. The crickets sang. The sea lapped at the shore. A light breeze drifted over us. This was the magic we had come for. The cold, the rain, the heavy winds, the bugs and the leaking sleeping pad, these were the dues we paid for moments like this one, with good food, good company and the calm peace and solitude that only a place like Hog Key can provide.

February 9, 2007, Friday: Our last day. Spent a warm, pleasant night punctuated by the usual mattress re-inflation activity. Slept past 7 AM for the first time. The morning was cool and overcast, but by 8:30, the sun was out and we needed to shed our sweaters and long pants. We had the usual good coffee and a great oatmeal breakfast – oatmeal, granola, raisins and brown sugar, all mixed together. Very tasty!
We took our time breaking camp, and after policing the place several times were ready to head back to the Blackwater River and the end of our adventure. The distance today would be 15 miles or more. The tide was still falling, so we would travel back on the Gulf side of the islands to avoid currents that might be running against us. There was a light breeze from the north, our direction of travel. It was just enough to keep us comfortable. We alternated steady paddling with breaks to take in our surroundings to be sure we would remember just how beautiful our surroundings were on this day.
We landed on what would be a tiny mangrove island at high tide. At the approaching low tide however, it provided a long and beautiful white sand beach on which to rest and eat our lunch. This unnamed bit of land was due west and several miles from the mouth of the Blackwater River. We had covered a distance of some six miles in two hours with little effort.
The island’s beach was long and narrow, surrounded by water on two sides as it trailed off to the east. The western end was rimmed by mangroves, shorter varieties on the shore, with a small stand of taller, more mature trees at its center. Scott gathered up our lunch, while I grabbed my camera and Crazy Creek chair, and the three of us headed for the shade of the trees. These trees and a small ring of sand is all that would be above water at high tide. A quick examination of the wooded area led me to believe that the whole island would be wave washed in a storm. This was not a place to camp, but it was a beautiful place to stop for lunch on a calm and sunny day as we approached low tide.
Lunch was some version of humus and pita bread, with orange slices and all of the leftover brownies, cookies and trail mix we could eat. We sat and talked for a while and just stared at the water. At 12:45, Scott asked if we were in a hurry to get back? The tide would turn in another 45 minutes and we would get a good push up the river once that happened. We were in no hurry either to leave this beautiful spot or end the trip, so I read and shot pictures when not simply enjoying the surroundings, while John wrote in his journal and Scott went fishing. At 1:30 we got back in our boats for the final 9-mile push through the Gulf islands, into and up the Blackwater River to our take-out point at Collier Seminole State Park.
We paddled steadily but easily through the islands and into the mouth of the river, stopping occasionally to let the tide push us along. The further into the river we paddled, the clearer it became that the name Blackwater was very descriptive, as the river’s coloration turned from milk chocolate to the color of dark tea and finally, black. The change from the Gulf to our take-out point was striking. As we approached our destination, the river narrowed, shaded by mangroves on both sides and began to snake back and forth, folding back on itself before again advancing eastward.
John asked if I was going to sprint to the finish again, which I took as a challenge. I said sure and took off paddling hard and covering the final distance quickly. I reached the take-out and the end of this wonderful trip at 4 PM. The old goats (John and I) had covered the 9 miles from island to take-out in 2.5 hours, thanks to the assist from the rising tide.

Trip Information:
Length: 5 days
Type: Self-contained, semi expedition
Outfitter: Scott Locorini of Adirondack Exposure
Contact: http://www.AdirondackExposure.com/

This was our camp on LuLu Key in the 10,000 Islands. LuLu Key is in the state owned part of the 10,000 islands, just north of the Everglades National Park controlled islands. There are advantages to staying in the state controlled islands. The greatest advantage is the flexibility you have in choosing the island you wish to camp on and your camping location on that island. The federally controlled sites are all specified with no flexibility to allow for weather conditions. We stayed here for two nights.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Paddling in Florida’s 10.000 Islands