Great New River Kayak Adventure
Introduction
Everglades
Marjory Stoneman Douglas relates in her classic book, “River of Grass,” the
commissioning by Henry Flagler of his chief engineer in 1892 to cross the
Everglades in quest of a possible railroad path. After making his way east
through most of what we call Big Cypress, he stood on the edge of the expanse
of sawgrass that separated him from Miami.
Asking an Indian woman how long it would take to get to Miami, the woman
laughingly replied “Indian, 2 days.
White man, 15.” To this day,
the Everglades presents itself to many as an inhospitable, impenetrable
mystery, curtained behind the alligator laden, thickly treed canals that border
the few roads that venture through her.
It is somewhat ironic that this
barrier is all that most see as they whiz through the Everglades, believing
this forbidding line of reptilian sentinels and thick underbrush to be the
whole picture. Ironic, for just beyond
this barrier are plains and prairies, fields, islands, creeks and rivers, yet
it was the construction of the very road which facilitates transit that broke
up the openness, leaving the overwhelming impression that the Everglades are
choked and choking with dense growth and dangerous alligators -
untraversable. Though there are places
in the glades that are quite forbidding, there are acres - hundreds, thousands of acres -
that, with preparation, yield to the responsible explorer.
It was late fall of 1999. My
friends and I had just completed the scenic paddle down the Turner River from
Tamiami Trail to Chokoloskee. The river
meanders through miles of narrow mangrove tunnels, often with just enough room
to get a kayak through, sometimes if only by hand-over-hand pulling. Along the way, we were reveling in our awesome,
solitary paddle so close to the hub-bub of Miami. Our revelry was cut short an hour into our paddle when we found
it necessary to move to one side to allow a tour group to paddle on upstream to
their waiting shuttle. This was
repeated again within the next hour. We
realized our solitude wasn’t quite as pure as we’d wished. Upon our arrival at the Chokoloskee boat
ramp, a friendly park ranger approached and began asking us about our
trip. Hearing our dislike for
encountering so many other travelers, the ranger began describing his own
paddling adventure that he had just completed.
I sat spellbound as the ranger described a group of paddlers who decided
to travel from Tamiami Trail to Flamingo via sail-equipped canoes. I was thunderstruck! Going into the Everglades, where there were
no trails, no boardwalks, no dotted line on a map? But what better way to find the challenge and solitude I’d
wanted. The wheels began to turn and
soon I was studying my own satellite images and topographical maps. I identified several possible alternatives
to Turner River that might be traversable.
My first attempt off one of the tributaries of Turner River with my
zip-locked copy of a topo map and compass made me realize that a little more
preparation was needed. The creeks and
tributaries were not like those that I’d explored in Central Florida - few
exhibited telltale currents to gauge whether a branch went somewhere, there
were often many indistinguishable paths where a topo map showed only one,
seasonal vegetation either hid paths shown on the satellite maps or hid paths
on the maps that were now visible from the field. I resigned myself to the idea that for me, a cross ‘glades trek
was going to take three necessary resources.
Time was the first of the three things I found I needed to complete my
first trek. Beyond the time that it took to familiarize myself with the task of
navigating and learning mile after mile of clearly mapped bays, bayous, and
rivers , I spent days that first winter fruitlessly hunting through mangrove
coves and inlets off Sunday Bay for a little creek called “New River”that was
to be the next route. I determined that
something better than the available topo maps was needed. My hunt led me to the second resource that
has become invaluable in the cross ‘glades treks - an internet website known as Terraserver (www.terraserver.com). With Terraserver, I zoomed in and studied 1
meter resolution pictures of the terrain.
Using the actual pictures of the terrain, I was able to avoid copy errors
which I have found on topo maps (even the direct sat to topo pix). Studying the images allowed me to identify
creek entrances and terrain changes that would become potential routes. I
obtained latitude and longitude data to the hundredth of minute (within 50
feet) by pulling up the image information hotlink on the 1 m resolution
pictures. This data was then fed into
my 3rd invaluable resource, a handheld GPS unit. This past winter, armed with the data, my GPS/compass, and my go
everywhere ocean kayak, I was able to paddle right to the mouth of the New
River.
Historical Precedents
Harney
Turner
1893 guy did shark valley?
The idea
John Kalafarski
Planning/Preparation
Terraserver
GPS
Topo maps
Foray/sorties
Trailer
Ivey House/Everglades City Canoe Outpost
The Adventure
Day 1
Trailer Failure
Delays
Repacking of food
Hard dragging!
Setting up Camp
fireplace - groundwater
hammocks
Dinner
Steaks/cook the meat
potatoes
corn on the cob
Tea - a tactical error
Nighthike
Day 2
Breakfast
Off the beaten track
Rain
Muck
Taller Sawgrass
Relay Pulling
Lunch/Looking for Alt Creek
Exhaustion/rejuvenation
Final half mile of hell
The creek
Camp
Salt intrusion
Cooking with Saltwater
Bedding down
Day 3
Dawn/Breakfast
Last Quarter mile of pulling
Fog rolls in
Water at last
Stilt Ruins.
Paddling through Mangrove Tunnels
Lunch at Sunday Bay
Lack of Escort Stretches Lopez River
Last corner of Lopez is longest look at Chokoloskee
The best way to end a Thousand Islands Adventure
Stone crab claws, cold beer, smoked mullet
Lessons Learned
Water
Food
Equity - slowest puller day 1 & 2 over short grass took lead over long
grass and on water
Short grass speed avg. 1 mph, long grass avg. 1/3 mph
Topo Trash for more than ideas
Future Plans
Loop road to Lostman’s River Slough
Shark Valley Sail
Side Bars
Leanne
Scott
Poem