|
|
 |
|
 |
Quick Links |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Support this Web Site By shopping at Amazon via the link below:
|
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|
After 119 trips and 651 miles in 2006 we start another year on the water. Trips this month: 7
1/2/07
Since I had purchased a 7-day pass to the Okefenokee Wildlife Refuge last week I decided to make my first trip of the new year back where Hope and I had such a wonderful time the previous Friday. I was able to get get going a lot earlier in the day with the hopes of being able to explore the area more extensively and was on the road at 7:30 am. About halfway there, however, I started wondering if this was going to be another day where "Plan B" would come into play as I realized that there was a national day of mourning for the late President Ford and most federal facilities were closed. I was relieved when I pulled into the entrance road of the park and found the gate wide open. I turned in just behind someone riding a scooter down the long road and when we were about half way to the parking area several deer began leaping across the road ahead of us. After four deer had crossed about two seconds apart the scooter slowed down in front of me and we both paused to see if there were any more to come across. As we reached the location where the other deer had crossed I looked to the left and could see two or three more deer waiting in the palmettos for us to leave before they continued. As I checked in at the office I realized two things - I was the first person on the water and - it was a lot colder than I had anticipated. I decided to not encumber myself with the spray skirt but I did wear my warm weather paddling gloves and I pushed off from the beach at 8:30 am.
Not long after leaving the ramp a skiff from the "Okefenokee Pastimes" passed me carrying a couple of people but for the rest of the day I saw only one tour boat and one canoe. I was fairly sure that the cold weather and overcast skies would mean that I wasn't going to see as many Gators as we had seen on Friday but I did see one or two in the water as I headed toward the canal split. The Pileated Woodpeckers were announcing themselves quite loudly as I passed and occasionally I would see one fly out in the open only to dive down to the underbrush when I tried to shoot. As I got close to the split in the canal I began shooting a very photogenic Great Blue Heron who flew from tree to tree and then entered the run to the north called "Cedar Hammock". I followed him in a ways and realized that there was definitely more water in the swamp than on Friday by a good 6 inches. I thought about trying to travel it's length to check out the platform we had been told about but decided to leave it for the trip back if I had the time and energy and so I turned around and was about to re-enter the canal.
Suddenly, the woods in the prairie behind me exploded with sound and its origins were unmistakable. I've heard it described as one of the "greatest sounds in nature" and once you have heard it you will never mistake the eerie trumpet call of the Sandhill Crane. It was echoing from east to west from the unseen birds that were hidden somewhere to the north of the canal so I turned around and began paddling in that direction. It was slow going as this path is clogged with vegetation and even with the extra water it was like paddling in liquid silt. I never felt like I was endanger of getting stuck but my kayak could never glide when I stopped paddling. I was about to give up when I spotted about a dozen gray hulking shapes at the edge of a stand of trees about 100 yards ahead. I slowly made my way toward them and was within about 50 yards when the sky overhead burst into sound and over the horizon came about two dozen cranes who at first circled above me as they seemed to consider landing. The ones on the ground began calling and soon they had joined their pals who circled a few more times before heading south. I went back to the canal and after taking the southern branch of the split I found the run that we had taken before that leads to the other areas of the swamp. I suspected that the cranes I had seen before were going to be somewhere in this prairie since they were headed this way and this was where I saw the majority of them on Friday. Not far into the trip south I spotted three who were grazing in the grass about 30 yards away. I paused to shoot them and I noticed that one of them was always on alert while the other two grazed away oblivious to my presence.
I continued on toward the place where this branch splits passing a few Gators up on the banks. As I took the branch that loops west before rejoining the canal I spotted the skiff that had passed me earlier in the morning. It's two passengers were taking picture so I mentioned to them that there were a few cranes around the corner. They nodded and said that about a quarter mile back they had passed 30 or 40 of them. I headed that way and within minutes I could see their large, gray shapes moving through the grass about 40 yards south of the channel. The additional water enabled me to leave the path and float part way across the flooded flats until I was within 30 yards of them. I sat there for about 20 minutes shooting away as I watched them move back and forth through the tall grass occasionally lifting their red crested heads to look around. The majority of the group seemed intent on poking deep into the ground as they walked along but there were several who seemed to be more concerned with me and any other potential threats that might be around. Occasionally, a pair of birds would face off briefly and trumpet as they flew up in the air disputing a particular piece of grazing space.
I had been sitting there fairly still for some time when it seemed as though the group was starting to vocalize more and more and it appeared that more of them were keeping their heads above the grass either looking at me or else something behind me. At first I thought I saw someone in a boat coming along the path but it turned out to just be some Egrets and about that time approximately 30 of the birds trumpeted loudly and began to fly off toward the north. At least a dozen of the birds kept grazing and never looked up as I carefully turned and made my way back toward the channel. I made my way to the place where the path branches off again going south to Grand Prairie and north back to the canal. I was occasionally hearing the sounds of the Cranes in the distance and ahead of me I spotted 3 or 4 at the edge of the woods. Suddenly 4 or 5 flushed noisily just a few feet ahead of me and flew up the creek. They were joined by the others and later I saw some of them grazing in a new location. For the rest of my journey on this branch I would see them walking through the grass on each side of me and their calls became a constant serenade. I had been hearing the calls of at least a pair of Red Shouldered Hawks and I could see at least one of the birds perching and flying about one of the islands of cypress trees out in the prairies. At one point I spotted one perching in a dead tree not far from the main channel but was unable to get very close to him before he flew off.
I eventually made my way back to the canal where it begins to curve back north to the intersection with the cutoff and a dead end canal called "Cedar Hammock Canal". As I paddled along shooting the occasional Gator on the bank I began to hear an odd call coming from the prairie on the other side of the trees from the canal. It was definitely not the raucous call of the Sandhill Cranes and yet it sounded familiar - a squeaky whistle like - "oooheeee!". There was one of the many breaks in the banks of the canal that allow water to flow in and out of the prairies so I entered it where I heard the call coming from. I got hung up on a cypress knee but I could peer through a stand of grass to my right and see that there was something in the water on the other side. With my binoculars I could clearly make out about a dozen Wood Ducks - both male and female swimming about in the shallow water. I realized that I had indeed heard that call before - back in April on the Suwannee when I encountered a young female Wood Duck and her two ducklings. I decided to be patient and instead of trying to free myself from the snag and enter the pool I sat behind the stand of grass and shot through it while I waited for them to come into the clear on their own.
That proved to be the right choice and I have since read a little about these birds and I now realize how fortunate I was to find them like this in the open and be able to observe them for as long as I did before they flushed. As I would find out on the rest of my trip - the preferred place for them to hang out is under the branches of the trees in the water and normally you won't be aware of them until they come flushing out with a flurry of feathers and squeaks. It was amazing to be able to sit there watching them as it was the first time I have been able to see the incredible beauty of the males close up. They are like the Painted Buntings of the Duck World - its hard to believe that one bird can have so many different colors and markings.
Finally, a few of them moved out into the open where they could see me and not long after that they rose in a squeaky commotion so I returned to the canal. As soon as I came back out into the canal I was surprised by three or four Wood Ducks who had been hiding under a bough in the water. They roared off and disappeared but that scene was repeated at least a half dozen more times throughout the rest of the day. By this time I was approximately in the location where we had seen the Otter family on Friday but of course they were no where to be found. A Green Heron teased me until I reached the intersection but I never got any shots. I decided to paddle the length of the canal to the north knowing that it would be about a mile and a half round trip. The surface of the water was thickly scummed over and there seemed to be hardly any current. I could see a couple of Gators in the water ahead of me but save a few Wood Ducks flushing and several Anhingas who flew ahead of me from tree-top to tree-top I saw little of interest and once at the end I turned back. After pausing for lunch I made my way back to the intersection and headed back to the east. Once past the split where the canal becomes wider and a little more open I began to see more Gators out on the banks sunning themselves. A tour boat and a young family in a canoe passed me going the opposite direction - the only other boaters I had seen since early that morning. I reached the ramp at 3:30 - a 7 hour, 10.5 mile trip - a great way to start the new year. See the pictures from this trip
1/7/07
I decided to vary my Sunday morning routine and paddle nearer to home. I wasn't sure if the tide was going to be right but I found there to be just barely enough water at the Cedar Point put-in on Heckscher Dr. as I set out about 25 minutes before sunrise. It was slow going in the shallow water but I rounded the first point as the sun got ready to rise over the horizon. I spotted a large bird floating nearby that I was certain was simply a common Double Crested Cormorant. He had a pure white breast, however, and his beak appeared to be pointed so I began to think that it was something different. It took off and flew across the water skimming the surface as it flew. It landed gracefully just ahead of me and then I knew that it couldn't be a Cormorant since they usually land with a crash.
Occasionally, it would lift itself up out of the water and flap its wings before settling back down and then it would swim along with it's face in the water as if it was peering beneath the surface. I still had no idea what this odd bird was until suddenly it called out in a clear loud yodel that I had heard only in movies. If you ever watched the movie "On Golden Pond" you will probably agree with me that the best part about that film was the exotic call of the Loon and there was now no mistaking that this was indeed the identity of this bird. He called out at least one more time but finally he tired of me chasing him and flew off. The pictures that I managed are not of the best quality due to the poor light but you get an idea of what he looked like. I have since identified him as a Common Loon and apparently they are common in Florida during the winter although they are usually solitary and look so much like a Cormorant from a distance that I have likely missed them. As the sun rose, I noticed that there was a thick band of sea fog racing along the coast above the horizon. Fog had been in the forecast and I was disappointed to find the skies clear when I awoke but now I could clearly see that the fog was hanging just above the coastline and the southerly breeze was pushing it quickly north.
There was a family of five Horned Grebes swimming together along the bank that I managed to shoot while the fog approached. As I watched, the bank of fog got thicker and thicker as it moved northward - it's leading edge reaching out like tendrils as it began to obscure the sky. Finally, it arrived and turned the sky a slate gray which the glassy water reflected like a mirror. I bypassed my usual stopping point of the sea daisy island at the confluence point since there were several fishermen gathered at the entrance to the northern branch of Cedar Point so I headed on up to the big sandbar.
When I reached it I paddled along the northern side of the sandbar and surprised about a dozen White Pelicans who were hanging out on the last spit of sand along with several Dowitchers. After they flushed I headed on toward the point and spotted a large bird perching in the trees there. A check with my binoculars showed that it was a Bald Eagle so I paddled toward him and shot a few pictures before he flew off. I watched him and was pretty sure he had flown just around the corner of the point to the east and when I paddled that direction he was sitting there on the branch of a dead tree. I took a few more shots and he flushed again so I headed back to main channel and continued on toward the ICW. I wondered if he had simply gone back to his original perch and just before entering the creek I turned and spotted him sitting in the first tree that I had seen him in originally. I paddled against a strong current until I reached the waterway and then headed south. When I reached the end of the first island located south of the mouth of Cedar Point Creek I beached my boat and started walking across the flats toward the White Pelicans who I could see were gathered in their pool as usual. I was surprised to find that the closest pool that is normally chocked full of shorebirds was relatively empty so I continued walking toward the Pelicans. While I approached I could see the far banks lined with Herons and Egrets including one lone Reddish and there were also several unidentified Ducks both in the water and on the shore. A group of about eight White Pelicans flew in from the west and dropped in the waiting group below burgeoning its numbers to close to 100.
Normally, when I approach these gentle Giants they will start to get nervous but react by calmly waddling into the water and swimming to the far side of the pool. This time, however, they suddenly flushed and all flew up together but instead of flying away simply settled right back down on the other side of the pool and began swimming about so decided to leave them in peace. I headed further south on the ICW until I reached the feeder streams I usually take when coming from the opposite direction. I decided to take the small stream that cuts directly west toward the confluence point. By now the breeze had kicked up from the south and blown the fog away leaving a sunny, mostly clear sky. The rest of the trip was into the brunt of the wind which made for slow going and few photo ops but it was a good day. See the pictures from this trip
1/14-15/07
Our first camping trip of the year and the first time Hope and I have been able to camp out together since last May. This being our first trip in so long a time we decided to make things as simple as possible and that determined our choice of destinations as well. We decided on our old standby - what we call "Bottle Island" on the Sisters Creek section of the ICW about 1.5 miles north of the bridge. We got in the water at the Kingfish Park at 3:30 with about two hours to go before high tide and about the same amount of time until sunset. On such a beautiful afternoon the waterway was as busy as a summer afternoon so as soon as we reached the Manatee Zone sign we cut into Hannah Mills and took the parallel streams the rest of the way up. Once we were almost even with the island where we planned to camp we headed out to the waterway and waited for a gap in the traffic. While we waited I noticed a power boat cruising along the eastern shoreline as though they were looking for a place to anchor for the night. Had they chosen our island I would have redirected us further north but after a few minutes they headed on and so we crossed. As we did, I noticed a Common Loon cruising along on the eastern shore but he was too far away for pictures so I headed on across and we unloaded our camping equipment. We found the campsite had changed somewhat since our last trip here back in November of '05. One of the large cedars that had been teetering precariously on the shell bank was now in the water and a large one in the woods near our campsite had fallen blocking off one of the paths into the woods. It also made the site much more open than it was when I first visited it eight years ago. We did some cleaning up of the small underbrush and cactuses that had grown up in the year since we had last been here making us believe that we were the last ones to use it. Once I had strung up our jungle hammocks I found our fire pit and could see the remains of the charcoal and a wine cork from one of our previous meals. I started the fire and popped the cork on our bottle of Spanish wine and we settled down to watch the sunset. The tree that had fallen in the water blocked our best view so we carried our chairs and wine down to the beach and watched a pretty nice sunset behind downtown Jacksonville. We returned to our fire and ate our steaks, drank our wine and ate our cookies while the light slowly faded in the west. While we sat there talking and feeding the fire a Great Blue Heron flew up in one of the Cedars along the shore but as soon as he realized that the campsite was occupied he flew off with a squawk. By now the traffic on the waterway was all but gone but the stillness of the night meant that every sound from all directions was carried easily down the waterway from the traffic on Heckscher Drive to the industrial sounds of Atlantic Marine and Blount Island. That would have been tolerable except as soon as it got dark we were surprised to hear the sounds of fireworks coming from the south. Sound plays tricks on you when you are on the water and at times they sounded as if they were coming from the south and at other times almost due east. We have been apprehensive about camping on this island chain for the last year since the appearance of the "barge" behind the southern most island in the chain and now I wasn't sure if this noise was coming from that location or somewhere else.
We were both nodding off by 8:30 - good food, wine and the hypnotic effect of watching a fire will do that to you so we headed for our hammocks to read and if possible sleep. The intermittent sound of the fireworks continued until well after midnight but it was replaced by an even more disturbing noise - the sound of conversation and people tending a fire. I could hear the conversation and I could hear them breaking wood for their fire. I could even here the sound of their cedar popping loudly as it burned and I would have sworn they were not more than 20 yards away on the same island. They finally quieted down about 2 am and from that point on the only disturbance we had was when a pair of barges came roaring by - one heading north and the other south. As the night went on it gradually cooled and the overcast sky became crystal clear. There was barely a sliver of moon left and it rose well after midnight so when I got up to relieve myself I could stand on the shore and see a beautiful, star filled sky above. In spite of the coolness I was able to lay on top of my sleeping bag until early in the morning and stayed quite warm. I slept as well as I ever do when camping out - i.e - fitfully. I woke up around 6:30 and decided to see if there was going to be a sunrise. I was a bit leery as I ventured out along the beach toward the opening between the islands where I could reach the mudflats behind us since I was sure I would stumble into the campsite of our "neighbors". I couldn't see any boats anchored in sight and I couldn't smell a fire or see any other signs of people on our island so I walked back to the flats and watched the sun rise into the thick clouds in the east. As I headed back along the waterway a Dolphin surfaced close by heading south and later I saw another pair heading north. I came back to our campsite and stirred up the fire and started the coffee. Once Hope got up we ate our breakfast and had a leisurely morning sitting around the campfire while the holiday traffic on the waterway heated up. We were a bit surprised that there was as much activity on the ICW as there was but it was a beautiful day and it was a holiday. At one point I happened to see some people walking along the shore line of the island located on the west side of the waterway at the intersection with Shad Creek. After watching them load their canoe I realized that these were the campers we had heard the night before. It's nearly a half mile away on the opposite side of the channel but the way the sound travels on the water they sounded as if they were next door.
We finally decided we should pack up and catch the outgoing tide back to the park and we departed around 11. As soon as we got in the channel the Loon that we had seen crossing back and forth in front of our campsite all morning reappeared with something in his mouth. He was plunging his head under the water and then dropping the object in front of him where he would violently stab at it over and over again. He was so preoccupied with this that we were able to drift close to him and at one point he surfaced about five feet from my boat. We couldn't tell what it was he had in his mouth but it appeared white on one side and dark on the other. Once I got to look at my pictures I realized that it was a small flounder that was far to large for him to swallow so his intent must have been to attempt to break it apart. He was still working on it when we left him and continued south. Due to the water level we had to stay in the channel but we didn't encounter any large yachts with huge wakes so the trip back was uneventful. When we reached the basin the water was all the way out and another kayaker was getting out. He had brought along waders and was able to slog through the mud to drag his boat up. We beached just north of the basin on a shell beach and found good footing along the grass up to the place where I could pull my truck and had no problem loading up. See the pictures from this trip
1/16/07
On the last day of my five day holiday weekend I really wanted to do something a little bit different but the tides weren't right for me to explore a new place so when I woke up a little after six I finally decided to head toward Simpsons Creek. As I passed over the bridge across Myrtle Creek I started thinking about how many years it had been since I had traveled the length of that stream (six) and a thought began churning in the back of my mind. I was pleased to find that some intrepid boaters have finally taken matters into their own hands and removed a section of the concrete rubble that the DOT had placed across the path to the water making it now possible to drag a boat from the road to the water without having to load, unload, carry across the unstable rubble and then reload. Of course they have also been driving along the step embankment eroding it even worse than before so I'm afraid that what may result is a permanent "fix" that no one will like.
I was in the water as the sun came over the trees on Long Island and began drifting with the current toward the sound. I stopped myself and decided that if I wanted to do something "different" today then a circumnavigation of Long Island might be in order. The high water levels meant that my trip down was probably going to be devoid of bird life but the question was whether I could make the trip from the Simpsons Bridge to the Myrtle Creek Bridge and still have enough water to get past the shallow midpoint of Myrtle. I decided to give a try and turned around and began paddling against the current toward the junction of the two streams. The tide had turned about an hour earlier so the flow wasn't too bad but I didn't allow myself much time to dally. I had only traveled this stretch of Simpsons twice before and the last time was seven years ago when I accompanied the Hetchkas on a trip in order to write an article about paddling in this area. There were a lot of interesting side streams that would have been fun to explore but I pressed on passing the camping island at the junction and then turning to the east. I passed the Little Talbot campground thinking how long it had been since we had last camped there and how much more we enjoy the freedom of kayak camping.
In less than 45 minutes I reached the bridge over Myrtle Creek and made my way toward the sound. The current, by now, had really picked up and I could tell by the water line on the grass that I wasn't going to be allowed to tarry too long before reaching the midpoint. The stream meanders wildly as it makes its way to the sound - going from the Long Island side to the Little Talbot side constantly and at one point it takes off in the opposite direction away from the sound before returning to its northeasterly direction. I reached an area where it was hard to determine which path to take and the stream suddenly got quite shallow. I could see to the right that the current was starting to head in the opposite direction and I realized that I had reached the midpoint where the current splits off with part of it being influenced by Simpsons Creek and the rest by the Nassau Sound.
I made it over the shallow area with inches to spare and let the current carry me toward the end of the creek. I was starting to flush up huge flocks of Hooded Mergansers who because of the tight turns allowed me to get quite close before they saw me but I was too slow to shoot every time and ultimately gave up. There were a couple of empty Osprey nests on the Talbot side that I will have to keep in mind this spring but for the most part I didn't see to much aside from the Mergansers. As I got close to the end I could see a dark vertical shape in the top of a dead pine on Little Talbot Island that I knew was a Bald Eagle. I cruised up as close as I could and shot a few pictures of the Eagle but when I tried to look at him through my binoculars he began swinging his head back and forth and then he flew off. It may have been that the intense morning sun was reflecting off my binoculars because I have never seen an Eagle react that way. I passed the camp site at the end of Long Island but by now the tide was pretty low and it would have required some effort to get out so I headed on out into the sound and began paddling toward Black Rock. As I got close to the end of the sand bar that extends out from the end of Little Talbot Island I saw that it was crowded with the usual assortment of Cormorants and Terns. I paid no mind to them or to the two white lumps nestled in their midst but as I passed by I realized that those lumps were a pair of White Pelicans snoozing away in the sun. I let the current carry me past them which caused one of them to stand up in alert but he soon hunkered back down with his partner.
The Cormorants, as usual, were getting skittish and eventually flushed revealing a lone Reddish Egret who was hanging out with them. He seemed more perturbed by their takeoff attempts than by my presence but finally he flew off and landed on a sandbar on the Big Talbot side. The White Pelicans finally decided I was causing too much trouble amongst their neighbors and waddled away and then flew to the ocean side of the beach. I turned my attention to the Reddish who was sitting on a sandbar at the entrance to one of the creeks I like to explore so I spent some time shooting him. He was unusually calm as I sat there watching him and even came walking toward me whenever the current would break my hold on the sandbar and push me further away. I finally decided to paddle past him into the creek and he simply glared at me as I passed less than five feet away. After I had paddled a short distance up the creek I saw that he had moved on out into the shallow water of the sound and was now doing his typical comedy dance routine. I drifted back to where I had beached my boat earlier and slid out onto the beach and began shooting him as did his thing.
At one point he came twirling and jumping just a few feet away, far too involved in what he was doing to pay me any mind. He headed up into the creek and I managed a couple of decent videos. As I sat there eating my breakfast he flew out from the creek directly over my head not more that five feet above me and landed several yards away from me down the sound. After eating and stretching my legs I decided to take a leisurely trip back up Simpsons Creek. The tide had just turned in so it was shallow and not much current to help me against a fairly stiff breeze out of the NW. As I approached Half Moon Bluff a pair of Horned Grebes surfaced and for some reason I was able to drift along with them at close proximity for quite a while. They seemed almost curious about me as they swam together around my boat, their weird red eyes giving them an almost demonic look. They are such small delicate looking birds and those red eyes seem to belie their passive natures. They finally flew off and I paddled on.
I passed under an Osprey eating a fish at the bluff and the rest of my trip consisted of several good photo ops with some Tri-Colored Herons one of whom was a little annoyed that I forced him to walk around my boat so that he could continue his stalking of prey in the water. Of course, by the time I reached the ramp the water was about a foot below the mucky end of the put-in so the take out was a mess. It was nice to be able to drag my muddy boat all the way to my truck, however. See the pictures from this trip
1/21/07
I decided to head to Pumpkin Hill Creek for my usual Sunday morning paddle. High tides were close to noon so as I got in the water at 7:30 the tide had just turned and my plan was to paddle out to the point against an easy current and then return on the last of the incoming tide.
I had rounded the first bend and was headed toward the second one near the trails when I noticed something swimming along the grass bank near the point. A whiskered head rose up out of the water and huffed at me before disappearing. The next time the Otter appeared he was closer to the opposite shore and as I paddled toward him he progressively swam closer and closer to that bank - huffing each time he raised his head up to look at me. He began swimming directly under the large clay "boulders" near the final trailhead and I was sure that he was about to hop up on the bank there or else disappear into the grass bank nearby. As I waited for him to re-appear there was a loud splash about five feet from my boat followed a second later by a whiskered face that surfaced about ten feet away. He disappeared quickly and I waited for quite a while to see where he had gone to but I soon realized that he had led me over here so that he could double back and continue his exploration of the grassy bank where I had first seen him - sneaky guy! That wasn't my last Otter encounter, however, and a few minutes later as I approached the next bend I spotted a trail of bubbles coming toward me along the shoreline. A tiny whiskered face surfaced and a young otter - not more than two feet long from head to tail - scampered up on the clay bank and ran toward the grass. I was sure that he would quickly disappear before I could shoot but his natural Otter curiosity overcame his fear and he turned to stare at me for several seconds before slipping into the tall grass.
I headed into one of the nearby streams that cuts into the marsh thinking that I might see him again but I saw nothing but flocks of Mergansers and one Tri-Colored Heron. I let the current carry me deep into the marsh before it finally petered out close to Black Hammock. I came back out into the main channel and rounded the bend near my shrimpin' hole where I entered the stream that cuts toward Black Hammock. With the tide now at mid-levels I wanted to see if I could access the new campsite I had found on my last trip at less than high tide. I was able to get close enough to find a hard surface to walk on without much trouble and I set up my hammock so I could take a break. I did a little more exploring and found the first evidence that the area has been surveyed which more or less confirms my suspicions that it is part of the controversial development on the island. After a brief break, I headed back to the creek and was surprised to find the channel heading toward the point full of whitecaps. An easterly breeze of 10-15 mph had kicked up - much earlier and much stronger than forecast. I paddled against the current with the wind to my back and reached the point which I found empty of birdlife. I explored the flats behind it but finding it devoid of life as well I decided to head back to the put-in. Once I reached the small point I cut in but was unable to get any shots of what birds had gathered there so I stayed in the stream that hugs the shore and then cut across the flats that were now flooded with the higher than normal tide. I came out into the main channel just shy of the trailhead where I had seen the adult Otter and was cruising along the shore there when a slender dark shape scurrying along the beach caught my eye. It was soon apparent that I was seeing another Otter youngster of approximately the same size as the one I had seen previously. He scurried through the grass as I tried to follow him and them plopped into the water with a splash. He emerged a few feet further down and the last sight I got of him was him disappearing into the woods. He may have been the same Otter as before but he was about a quarter mile upstream on the opposite bank. I will have to do some research to see when the Otter pups become independent. I cut across the flooded grass of the last bend and emerged just down from the put-in. The windy conditions had at least kept the bank fishermen safely at home which is a good thing since they have now dragged one of the picnic tables close to the water's edge partially blocking the access. Somehow I'm not surprised to see this considering what I have seen them do other places in this area. See the pictures from this trip
1/29/07
Brrrrrr! After over a week of not being able to get on the water due to scheduling and weather I wasn't going to let a little freezing temperatures or gusty winds stop me. Actually, the forecast had called for temps around 30 overnight but when I got up it had only reached 35 although they were saying that the wind chill was in the mid-20's. Either way - it was damn cold! Hope and I had planned to go paddling on Friday but we had to drop our "babies" off at the vets and because it was a blustery day we decided to head down to Princess Place to check it out without the boats. We had a great time and since I had to drop by the Mayo Clinic for a test I made plans to come back today and paddle regardless of the weather. After I was done at the Clinic, I headed down A1A and after verifying that Guana was still closed I got back on US-1 and headed south.
I began to worry about a sign we had seen on Friday saying that the Preserve was closed Mondays and Tuesdays but since I knew that I could always put in across the creek at Faver Dykes State Park I proceeded on until I reached the turnoff on Old Kings Road. There was another sign on US-1 saying that the Preserve was open Weds-Sun but as soon as I turned down Princess Place Road I saw a sign saying that the Preserve was open daily and I found the gate wide open so I'm not sure what to believe. I headed to the ramp and was in the water by 10 snug under my spray skirt with several layers of clothing and some chemical hand warmers in the front pouch of my fleece. I headed down the canal that they have dug to the ramp and then took another canal that turned to the east and headed out to open water. The tide was low but still heading out so the area was very shallow but still with plenty of water to paddle in. I was amazed at the clarity of the water which this area has due to the fact that it is not influenced by the tannins of the St. Johns River. The bottom was uniformly firm throughout and felt as though I could easily get out and walk across it.
I followed the channel I was in to the south as it ran along the shoreline of the Preserve and I could see several of the campsites that we had read about. I had brought along a Terraserver photo and I could see that I could eventually make my way out to the Intracoastal to the east. I followed the one of the streams as it wound its way through the Mangroves out to the waterway. As windy and cold as it was I really didn't expect to see much birdlife but I scared up a few Great Blues, Little Blues and Tri-Colors as well as a large flock of Red Breasted Mergansers. I also spotted a couple of Bald Eagles - one flying toward the campsites and the other toward the eastern shore of the ICW. I found the waterway rough but manageable and so I decided to head north until I reached the next break between the islands that separate it from Pellicer Flats. About 20 yards up from the stream I had just left I spotted a sailboat coming my way and a short distance behind him was a 40 ft motor yacht who was roaring down the channel throwing up an enormous wake. The area I was in was very shallow and not wanting a repeat of my recent near swamping I turned tail and paddled furiously back to the creek I had come from. Just as I found a place that I felt would offer me some shelter he powered down but I think that was more in consideration for the sail boat he was passing than for me. After they passed I headed back north and just as I was about to enter the next creek a power boat manned by the St. Johns Water Management district cut in front of me and entered the area where I was headed. I followed them and wondered why they were having so much trouble getting anchored to take their samples. I soon found out as I was confronted by an enormous outflow of water that was pouring out of the flats. I had heard that the current in Pellicer Flats could be tricky and now I could see why. It was hard to see how so much water could be coming out of an area so shallow but it was if someone was "tipping the cup" to get the last little bit out.
I found enough water to make my way through the Mangroves and back out into the flats. By now, the water was only a few inches deep - just barely enough to paddle in. There were large oyster beds along the backsides of the islands that line the ICW and there were a pair of Ospreys sitting on them eating their catch. I watched as a Vulture swooped down on one of them but the Osprey warned him off and the Vulture headed on. I made my way north toward the Faver Dykes side of the creek as the choppy water hit me broadside. Just as I reached the area of the flats where it opens up near the Matanzas Inlet at Marineland I was hit by a gust of icy wind. I was a bit concerned that wind coming from NE would make crossing this area impossible - especially since it was so shallow and the waves could really pile up. I soon reached deeper water and as I got closer to trees in the state park the I was sheltered from most of the wind. I skirted the shore of the park shooting some herons and flushing some Ospreys from the huge pine trees and soon found myself around the point from the old lodge and opposite the entrance to Styles Creek which intersects the park. I paddled up it and past the Dock Campsites located there. I reached the bridge where the main entrance road crosses and found that at least at low tide it was passable. I wasn't sure about continuing past the bridge but I caught just a glimpse of what looked like an Otter head next to the shoreline. I passed under the bridge and saw a small flock of Mergansers there but my batteries died at that moment so I pulled over to change them. Of course the Mergansers flew off while I worked on my camera but from behind me I know heard a familiar "huff" and turned to see that whiskered face that I have come to love so much peering at me as it swam back and forth across the stream. His appearance was far too brief so I continued on up the stream toward a large, modern house called "the Island House" which is located on a small hill overlooking the marsh. No one seems to know what the Island House is but I determined the source of its name - a small stream that acts like a moat encircling the island it sits on. The whole thing, including the island, seems to be man-made but it is nicely situated.
I paddled on until I reached the second bridge where the road up to house crosses the creek. I could have made it under but just barely and according to my photo it turns into a maze of man-made canals that were obviously dug out to drain the marshy area. The creek exits back out into the Matanzas River further south so at one time the whole Princess Place Preserve was an island separated from the mainland by a marshy area created by Styles Creek. I headed back out into Pellicer Creek and made my way around the point to the channel leading up to the ramp. It was close to dead low tide by now and when I reached the ramp I found the only mushy ground I had seen all day - at the very end of the ramp. It wasn't too bad and I was able to load up without too much trouble. Before leaving, I decided to check out a road that said it led to some more of the primitive campsites. As I drove through a beautiful grove of giant oak trees I saw a doe calmly walking through the woods grazing as she went and I stopped to shoot some pictures. I drove on down to the what is called the Moody Sites where there are three or four beautifully situated campsites along the water's edge - each with access to a nice beach. These were the campsites I had seen earlier when I had first set out that morning. They are obviously the prime spots to camp and I am looking forward doing it in future. See the pictures from this trip
1/31/07
This was my first after work paddle in some time but with the sun going down around 6 I knew I could get at least an hour and a half of water time in so I headed to Clapboard Creek and launched from a deserted ramp. It had warmed up considerably from earlier in the week but there was a strong NE breeze and I set out into the teeth of a pretty frigid wind. The water in Clapboard was kicking up some pretty good waves so I cut into the first little stream past the dredge spoil pile and began paddling parallel to the main channel. I decided to stay here the rest of the evening and just enjoy the quiet solitude of a marsh empty of other boaters. There was a nearly full moon rising over the marsh grass turned a warm gold by the setting sun. The contrast of the dark blue sky, golden grass and deep blue water made for a serene evening. I passed little in the way of birdlife - a few Dowitchers, Great Blues and Great Egrets but the skies overhead were rapidly filling up with Ibis and small herons on their usual evening migration toward the setting sun. I headed back as the sun turned orange and began to set behind Blount Island. I headed out into the main channel of the branch that leads to the confluence point but although the wind had died down the tide was still rolling in making for a rough ride so I took refuge back in the marsh and made my way back to the ramp as the evening grew darker. See the pictures from this trip
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
Sponsors :
The Timucuan Paddle Page - In Affiliation with GearPro.com