Trapped in the Everglades

On the Buttonwood Canal near Flamingo.

As we approached Flamingo via the Everglades Wilderness Waterway, an unexpected low bridge came into view.  A quick look at the chart showed 10’ of clearance, roughly matching the minimum height of our boat.  I quickly handed the helm to Molly and went on the roof to lower antennas, the anchor light and the dinghy davit.  Fortunately, the persistent north winds had reduced the water levels in the Everglades, and we passed under the bridge with ease.

Just as I was counting our blessings, however, we came to Flamingo and found a dam that completely blocked our access to Florida Bay and Keys.  The charts showed a boat lift to get over the dam, but the lift has not operated since Hurricane Andrew came through in 1992.  Seemingly, we were cooked, and would have to turn around and add another two days to our trip.  And, if the wind shifted direction, we might even be trapped in Flamingo forever!

The dam at Flamingo.

As Captain and Navigator of Salty Paws, I admit that I erred in not reading the charts thoroughly enough.  If I had fully understood the roadblocks, we might not have come this route. 

Cocktail hour in the Little Shark River.

Until this point, however, our off-the-grid cruise had been magical and one of the best parts of our journey.  We left Everglades City, accompanied by dolphins, and motored off shore 40 miles or so until we could cut in and anchor in the Little Shark River, smack in the middle of the Everglades wilderness.  Our anchor was set mid-afternoon, and we spent an early and extended cocktail hour on the bow of Salty Paws in awe of our surroundings.

We saw eagles, a swirling column of over 40 hawks soaring about the River, a few pelicans in formation and hundreds of ibis flying up-river at the end of their fishing day.  An unidentified bird, perhaps an owl, hooted from the shore.  This was all topped by a manatee that swam right by Salty Paws as the waxing gibbous moon was rising and visible in the late afternoon.  

Hawks overhead.

Our camera was slow to capture the
manatee going by Salty paws.

Sunset on the Little Shark

Evening came and the sky alight with stars even with the moon and a slight glow on the eastern horizon from the greater Miami area, 60 or so miles away.  We confirmed seeing Mars using the great SkyView app.  All the other planets as well as the International Space Station and the Hubble Telescope were below the horizon.   The waters calmed, and we were engulfed in silence.

We got up long before the sunrise to see, again, what nature would present to us.  Temperatures had dropped to 55 degrees, and Venus was now visible in the clear sky.  Soon the same birds that had flown upriver were now headed out to the Gulf for another day of fishing.  A second manatee briefly came up for a breath.

Tides on the Florida west coast vary greatly in terms of
timing and height.  Some places only have one high tide
per day, some have three.

 After our first hot oatmeal breakfast in a long time, we raised anchor and headed upstream to connect with the last 25 miles of the 100-mile Everglades Wilderness Waterway.  We had been discouraged from following the Waterway because of depths, and it is mostly used by canoes, kayaks and small, open motor boats.  Fortunately, Salty Paws draws less than 2.5 feet, and maybe only 2.1 feet as our depth meter read between 2.1 and 6 feet for most all of this passage.  We were completely surrounded by wilderness, a few birds and frequently jumping fish in the muddy, shallow waters.

Kayaking up the Creek to Mud Lake.

We were now using our small 9.9 hp kicker motor, sparing our large 250 hp motor from possibly hitting bottom.  Our average speed was only 4 mph, but we picked our way through Whitewater Bay and into Coots Bay.  Now, we were only 5 miles from Flamingo, but we decided to anchor in the 3.5 feet of water, and enjoy one last afternoon and night of solitude.  We launched our tandem kayak and paddled slowly up through a tree-filled creek to Mud Lake.  Here we observed the largest confluence of heron, ibis, eagles and other birds that we have ever witnessed.

The next morning we are off to Flamingo, get under the bridge and are now stymied by the dam.  It is roughly 10 am.  Flamingo, or at least the part that we can see, only includes a Park Visitors Center and a marina store, between two sets of docks, walls, boat ramps and parking lots. 

I didn't realize that America has
crocodiles!

One side is for access to/from the Everglades, and the other side for access to/from Florida Bay and the Gulf.  In the water we observe American crocodiles and a number of manatees.

I track down some of the local charter boat captains and one of the park rangers.  They all suggest that we might be able to find someone with a trailer who could haul us out on the Everglades side and launch us on the Bay side.  Unfortunately, they also say that Park regulations prohibit their using any of their trailers.

One of the many manatees at Flamingo.

Both parking lots are filled with parked trucks, almost all pulling 1-axle trailers for small, open fishing boats.  I do find two questionable 2-axle trailers and one beautiful 3-axle trailer that could definitely hold Salty Paws.  I leave notes of our predicament in the door handle of each related truck.  Every hour or so, I walk through the parking lot.  At 3:00 pm, one of the trailers is now gone, leaving just two possibilities.  We are now resigned to the likelihood that tomorrow we will be retracing our steps and also to the possibility that stronger winds later in the week might even delay our travels further.

At 4:00 pm Molly and I are walking over to the Visitors Center, and a boat, similar in size to Salty Paws, is approaching the boat ramp for take-out.  I scan the parking lot and notice a truck pulling the 3-axle trailer is headed to us.  The boat owner must have seen our note, but it has likely been a long day of fishing, and he and his crew were ready to go home.  I approached the truck, made reference to my note and asked for his help. 

We are on our way!

An hour later, Capt. John Prahl, his brother and friend were headed back to Miami after expertly moving Salty Paws from one body of water to the other.

Once again we are blessed, but there remains one more challenge.  The next morning we depart an hour before a super low tide, and we should have left prior to dawn.  The passage between Flamingo and Florida Bay is narrow and shallow, and within a mile of Flamingo we find ourselves aground in the mud.  Our depth meter reads 1.5 feet.  We enjoy our coffee, play cards and watch the tide continuing to go out.  Now there are wide exposed flats only 20 feet away on both sides of the boat.  Finally, the tide turns, and 2 hours later, we are able to edge forward. 

Molly on the bow as we navigate shallow water.

Early morning in Flamingo.

One of the dolphins that
escorted us out of Flamingo.

Once out of the narrow channel, dolphins are on both sides of the boat.  Soon we speed up and make the 40-mile trek to the Florida Keys in two hours.  The weather forecast is now calling for 20-30 knot winds over the next several days.  We decide to stay at the Choral Bay Marina in Islamorada on Upper Matecumbe Key for the next week and check out the Conch lifestyle. 

We are quickly liking the Conch lifestyle!

We visited the World Wide Sprtsman store in Islamorada and
toured the half-sister boat to the one owned by Earnest
Hemingway.