Day 3: Wiggins Pass to Everglades City, 51 miles
We woke up at 3:30 AM, and I cooked while Lauren packed up. At 5:20 AM we rode the still outgoing tidal current out of the pass and into the dark Gulf, while trying not to crash into the channel markers.We saw the white stern light of a kayaker, and figuring it could only be a watertriber, we paddled hard to catch up. "What's your name?", I asked into the darkness. No response. Eventually, a Romanian accent replied, "AlexO", a name we recognized from the internet discussion. It took a little work, but we roused him from his trance and engaged in some small talk. He had been paddling through the night on the Gulf.
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A nice east wind was coming off the land. With our bigger sail, we gradually pulled away from AlexO as the sun rose over the condos of Naples. We took turns paddling and eating breakfast with mocha from the thermos.
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The wind shifted to the south, as forecast, but with the help of the east wind in the morning, we were only an hour away from Big Marco River when we had to take down the sail. The headwind increased and we paddled hard to make Big Marco Pass.
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Lauren was steering, and kept asking if we were going the right way. I said to just go around the corner. Finally, when I took a closer look I realized we were being sucked into the wrong channel by a strong tidal current. It took ten minutes of all-out paddling to make way against the current around the corner to the correct channel.
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We rode the current to the Marco Island bridge. It was getting hot, and we were again running low on water. We saw fishermen, sunbathers, and a trash can at the south end of the bridge, so we pulled off to get rid of some trash. We interviewed the locals regarding whether we could obtain water nearby. It was difficult for them to relate to our situation. There were rumors of a filling station down the road or a boat launch that may or may not have restrooms. Ultimately, we decided that we would make do with the gallon or so that we had left rather than hunting around on a possible wild goose chase.
After the bridge, wind and tide turned against us. It was hard work in the heat of the afternoon. A kayak pulled out of a creek just as we were passing. It was SpiritWalker. We paddled with him for a while. As we passed Goodland, a pod of dolphins swam and played very close to us.
We were encouraged by the prospect of good sailing on the south wind once we turned the corner at the mouth of the Big Marco River, so we continued to paddle hard against the wind and tidal current. Finally, we turned the corner at Coon Key and made a line for Camp LuLu key, nine miles distant across Gullivan Bay.
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We laid back, quit paddling, and did some welcome eating, drinking, and resting. The sun was low in the sky as we approached Camp LuLu key, the last legal campsite outside the national park boundary. Permits are required to camp within the park.
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Camp LuLu key is a beautiful spot. It was our first time to arrive at a campsite before dark. Two kayakers pulled in just as we arrived. They said there was a watertriber camped at a beach around the corner, and had heard about the race from him. We followed a trail in that direction, but did not find him. On the one hand, I thought it is often advantageous to group up with other Watertribers and benefit from their experience, but on the other hand, we were tired and ready to lay down, and he was probably already asleep.
We had heard of the tidal currents in Indian Key Pass, and after seeing very strong currents at Wiggins Pass and Big Marco, we decided that we should time our entrance with the tide. Low tide was around 9:30 PM, so we figured that if we left camp around ten, we would come in with the tide, given that it was about 8 miles to Everglades City. We made a quick camp by setting up the tent with no fly to keep the bugs away, and crawled in with our wet paddling clothes on. It was warm with a pleasant breeze, and we were soon asleep.
We got up with the alarm at ten, and walked out with our headlamps. Of course, being paranoid, we had dragged the heavy canoe well above the high water mark on the steep beach. At the base of the steep beach, where the water used to be, was hard sand and shells with some puddles on it. We walked out over the exposed sea bed looking for the water. We walked and walked and walked, and found no water. Someone had pulled the plug on the ocean! We would have to drag the canoe at least 1/4 mile to get to water that would float it. Upon reviewing the chart, I saw that I could have foreseen this situation. Around the corner where the other watertriber was camped, the water is deep up to the beach; oh well, you live and learn.
My thought was to man-up and start dragging the canoe, but Lauren suggested that we just lay down for another hour and let the water rise. Upon reflection, her idea sounded better, so we went back to bed.
When we got up at eleven, I could hear waves lapping in the distance, which was a good sign. However, there was still a lot of exposed sea bed. We started packing up, figuring that there would be enough water to float us by the time we were ready to go.
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It was a beautiful night on the Gulf. The sky was dark and full of stars. Orion was high overhead. The water was calm. Choruses of insects sang from the mangrove islands as we paddled toward the green flashing light at Indian Key Pass.
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As we came in through the pass, we startled something really big out from under our boat. Later, we could hear the blowholes of dolphins breathing on either side of us. There was only about two miles in which the current was significant, but it was really ripping there. We rode the current in, being careful not to crash into channel markers with whitewater rushing around them.
It was about 2 AM when we arrived at Chokoloskee bay. We decided to sleep in the boat to avoid violating any Park rules by sleeping on land, and we did not want to tie up to a mangrove island because some of them are protected for wildlife. We drifted around for a while hoping to find something to tie up to in the bay, but there was nothing other than channel markers. We wished we had brought a small anchor so that we could be away from the mosquitoes. We also considered going to Checkpoint 2, where there was supposedly a hotel room. But, we imagined it would be crowded and busy, and did not like the idea of adding on miles by paddling back and forth the three miles between the park office and Checkpoint 2.
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Ultimately, we pulled up to the causeway to Chokoloskee Island and tied up to a mangrove. We pulled on our headnets and crawled into our SOL bivvy sacks. We were already wet and salty, and crawling into a plastic bag only made us wetter, but it was warm. I put in some earplugs to reduce the whining noise from mosquitoes, and the occasional car on the causeway. I crawled down into the boat and stretched out under the spray cover. I could soon hear Lauren snoring away.
Mosquitoes bit my face every minute or so, just as I was drifting off. As I was drifting off, I would be suddenly gripped by fear of suffocation with the spray cover right over my face, and start awake. Similarly, when a motor boat passed, I would start awake with fear of a giant wake crashing us into the rocks. After a while I crawled out on top of the seat and spray cover, and was much better off having my head out in the open.
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