March 20th: Homosassa Springs

The campsite here is altogether different. Plenty of space, and pitches carved out of the forest. However, the jungle is on your doorstep, and the security man warned us to be careful if we went on a particular circular path cut through the undergrowth because it was infested with rattlesnakes. Too late! We’d just walked it, birdwatching, fortunately without incident. This is the lots of space.

We are only a couple of miles from the Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park. It used to be a zoo until 1984 when the State took it over and now they only keep animals native to Florida, many of which are endangered species. The big attraction is the manatee where they treat injured specimens and return them to the wild later if possible. Manatees are aquatic vegetarian mammals whose nearest relatives are elephants. So they’re large, weighing up to a ton. These are gentle, sociable creatures, as the next photo shows.

They are injured most frequently by motorboat propellers, often fatally, but you can see one of the luckier ones with the healed prop scars on his back.

Manatees need warm water, above 20°C (70°F), and Homosassa River Springs provides it when the ocean winter temperatures don’t. The Park only encloses a small portion of the river and wild manatees use the main river to access the same warm water. It’s more difficult to photograph them in the main river, but this one came up to the surface at just the right time. It looks like a WW22 barrage balloon.

Can’t say we’re big fans of zoos as such, but here the same natural habitat applies to both wild and captive manatees that will be released anyway if possible. Other species held in the Park provided some good photo shots and seemed happy enough but perhaps held with less justification than the manatees.

Barred owls. Ideal as bookends.

Florida Puma. Melts into the background even on a sunny day.

Florida Black Bear. Cuddly looking, but powerful. Nowhere near as dangerous as the grizzly. Wouldn’t like to check that out.

The Park runs a boat up this creek to connect with their main visitor centre and car park. We didn’t have time to take it but it’s very picturesque and junglified. Watch out for those rattlesnakes! 

We spent a most enjoyable two days here, and now it’s time to move on to New Orleans. This will take us two days drive to cover the 600 miles. Many campers we’ve met here say we ought to stay overnight whilst in transit in a Walmart supermarket car park. Lots do, and Walmart is camper friendly. Also they have 24 hour security patrols, so it’s safe. We’re going to give it a try for our en route night, and we’ll let you know how we get on.

March 16th: Pine Island

Pine Island sounds like paradise, and the photo above looks the biz. Jane is beachcombing on white sands lapped by the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

 However, all is not as it seems. Pine Island is 12 miles by 2, and has no beaches. It’s encased in the dreaded mangrove swamps. The campsite runs a weekly bus to the beautiful beach above, but it’s a two hour ride (two hours there and two hours back). The site itself was large and anonymous: it was ok, but we weren’t enthused.
We did a couple of pleasant walks, and next is a photo from one where we reached a viewing balcony overlooking a sea inlet. An unusual feature, just visible in the photo, was that every piece of wood on the balcony was carved with a person’s name. This had been done professionally all in the same lettering, so presumably these were benefactors of the small wildlife preserve leading up to the balcony.

I used the US word “preserve” for what we would call a nature “reserve”. In the UK, we use the expression “preserve” to describe best quality jam! Jam here, by the way, is called jelly. And jelly’s called jello. This could go on forever, so I need to get to the pic before you forget what it was about!

On the way was a field of cows with a much bigger flock of cattle egrets. These feed on insects attracted by the cows and happily co-exist with their bulkier benefactors.

We strolled past this quirky boy-toy with a for “sale sign” in the window. It looks great fun.  Imagine off-roading through marshy scrub and boggy tracks. But how safe would it be on the highway. In an emergency stop, would the wheels part stop dead and the passenger part just carry on?

So we left a few days earlier than planned as we had heard of a wildlife park where manatees were fairly common, at Homosassa Springs, 200 miles north. Here’s Jane driving on the Sunshine Skyway that crosses Tampa Bay, an impressive road with an even more impressive bridge. See y’all at Homosassa.

Park Ranger-led Events

This is a summary of some of the programme that we attended, available to all park visitors. Apologies if even the edited version is a bit long-winded.

1.      The Mosquito talk.  43 species of mosquito in the Park. Only the female bites. 13 out of the 43 bite humans. If I don’t use repellent, all 13 will bite me. It’s the low season now, but in summer, in ideal condition, one square metre of shallow water can produce one million mosquitos. The Park reduces to a skeleton crew after the end of March because of the increasingly immense numbers and extreme irritation of these insects.

       There are other biting insects my can of repellent claims to deter, like “chiggers” and “no-see-ums”, whatever they are, and obviously you won’t spot them to find out!

2.    Manatee Talk. A large aquatic mammal (approx.1 ton weight). Gentle sea  grass        feeder. Nearest relative: the elephant. We didn’t see it.

3.    Dawn Bird Walk. The ranger pointed out some interesting birds in the dawn bird walk. Some, like the osprey, are rare in the UK but common here. This one’s caught a fish and is eating it on a dead tree. My picture was taken through the ranger’s bird scope, hence the wedding-photo halo.

Vultures are common throughout Florida: the turkey vulture and the black vulture. They do a grand job of clearing up any dead creatures or holidaymakers. However, you do wonder how the fallen manage to support such large numbers often seen wheeling in the sky.

 It won’t be of general interest to detail the many smaller birds we saw, but here’s a couple of quite nice photos. First one’s a black-necked stilt, then a cardinal.

5.   Different Habitat Areas. Another ranger took us to several locations some miles apart where various micro habitats existed. The most unusual was called a hammock, a kind of small island rising only about a foot above the swamp, but high enough to support a mini forest of tropical hardwood. This is the raised walkway to Mahogany Hammock that shows the hammock’s slight elevation.

 

Inside the hammock it’s a tropical jungle. But no monkeys. That’s Jane in the red trousers.

The hammock contains the largest mahogany tree in America. It’s big, but a more interesting tree is the gumbo-limbo tree, or the tourist tree as it is known locally because the bark is red and peeling.

The name gumbo-limbo comes from its Caribbean origins and refers to the locals’ ancient practice of using the sticky sap to catch birds. It has some medicinal properties: the bark is anti-inflammatory and antiseptic. So you could presumably use it if you fell foul of the manchineel tree.

A more sinister tree is the strangler fig. It slowly engulfs its host, which then dies and rots away, leaving just the strangler fig.

The Everglades was a magical place. All wildlife is sacred, apart from mosquitos. Now to Pine Island, 250 miles north on the Gulf of Mexico.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boat on the Everglades

We took a boat trip, the only activity here that isn’t free. It’s operated as a franchise owned by the Mayor of Florida City. Clearly a man with useful connections.

Here we are, gliding through the Buttonwood canal constructed in 1922 to provide access into the central lakes of the Everglades from the sea. The opening of the canal promptly wrecked the delicate ecosystem, by allowing salt water into the freshwater environment. Although the damaging effects were apparent after a few years, it took until 1984 for a small dam to be completed to seal the end of the canal from the sea.

We look out for exotic and dangerous creatures in the mangrove jungle, being safe on the boat. The first item the guide points out is a manchineel tree. It’s very ordinary looking, just growing on the bank. Here’s the Wikipedia entry.

Manchineel is one of the most poisonous trees in the world. Its milky white sap contains phorbol and other skin irritants, producing strong allergic dermatitis. Standing beneath the tree during rain will cause blistering of the skin from mere contact with this liquid (even a small drop of rain with the milky substance in it will cause the skin to blister). Burning the tree may cause blindness if the smoke reaches the eyes. The Caribs used the sap of this tree to poison their arrows and would tie captives to the trunk of the tree, ensuring a slow and painful death.

The underlined words are in the Wikipedia script and have no significance in this context.

 

So, it’s the plants as much as the animals to beware of! One wonders if the many canoeists that use this canal are all aware of the manchineel.  

We’re on a plant theme at the moment as next we glide past some bromeliads or air plants. Lots of them. Worth coming back later with a bag and a window reach like we used to use in the shop as these are expensive in the UK!

The 3 mile canal arrives at the inland waters of Whitewater Bay, 100 square miles of it, with numerous mangrove-covered islands, and creeks. It is easy to get lost and canoeists who travel the long distance water trails (longest 99 miles, taking 8 to 10 days) need a permit. It’s impossible for the canoeists to tie up and camp anywhere because all land areas are covered by mangrove, so the Park have provided small raised wooden platforms in the water for that purpose. I wonder if occupied platforms repel boarders if another lot of canoeists arrive.

We see some dolphins, and then full throttle across the open water of a small part of Whitewater Bay. Then back to the Visitor Center via the canal, having done our bit to save the Mayor of Floriday City from life on the breadline.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 11 to 15th: Into the The Everglades

The Everglades National Park covers an area of over 300 square miles. In most people’s minds, it conjures up a picture of vast swamps covered in sawgrass. That really is some part of it, as in the next photo.

The whole Everglades Park is just above sea level. How ‘just above’ is demonstrated by a road sign halfway along the 40 mile long entrance road. It read “Rocky Creek Pass, Elevation 3 Feet”. 

On the face of it, this doesn’t look such an amazing area to visit- a flat ocean of grass. But the bigger picture is of a diverse freshwater and saltwater eco-system that supports a huge range of plants and creatures. And also a small number of Park Rangers, day visitors and campers.

It’s a 70 mile journey for us to the Everglades campsite that is located at the end of the 40 mile road and as far south as it is possible to go on the US mainland.

These are the most spacious pitches we’ve ever had anywhere, with electric hook-up. The downside is that the showers are cold. But the air temperature’s about 80 degrees (27ºC) most days, so it’s bearable.  

We’re on the coast of Florida Bay, where the Caribbean, Gulf of Mexico and Atlantic all meet. However, no sandy beaches. The Bay is shallow, 3 to 6 feet deep, and covers hundreds of square miles with hundreds of small islands. The shores and islands are all covered in dense mangrove thickets.

The Everglades environment supports an enormous variety of species. Starting with the biggest, it’s the only place in the world where crocodiles and alligators exist together.

They’re equal top-dogs in the eco chain and actually keep out of each other’s way. They’re not bothered about keeping out of human’s way and here’s a 6 foot croc to prove it on the marina slipway.

We’re told incidents are rare and always down to human stupidity, like the guy who decided to go for a midnight swim a few years ago and lost his arm. It might look like an inflatable toy and tempting to poke with a stick, but look at this chap’s teeth close up!

The young are cute, but it’s a hazardous road to the safety of adulthood. Predators include birds of prey and their own adults. Not us, this time, the Visitor Center café wasn’t offering croc n’ chips, though we’ve seen alligator tails on some restaurant menus sourced from farmed alligators.

The Visitor Center (US spelling), as expected, contained lots of info and many ranger-lead activities, all of which were free – not expected. The next episode will report on some of these.