Home » Adventures » Ten Thousand Islands » Turkey Key
Route I paddled this day
I work up near first light and the wind was dead still, despite the prediction for bad weather. I took advantage of the lull to hopefully get to my campsite at Turkey Key before anything bad blew in. While getting ready to launch, the Outward Bound group informed me an afternoon gale warning had been posted, with up to sixty knot winds. My plan still was to reach my campsite before anything bad arrived and hold out there.
While paddling the Chatham River, I passed a small island in the middle of the water with many brown pelicans perched upon its branches. Seeing so many birds confined to one tree was neat. Of course, birds were all over in the Everglades. Going anywhere without seeing them flying, sitting in trees, on the shore, or kamikaze dive bombing into the water to retrieve a fish was impossible. This was especially true in winter with many birds migrated south for the season.
5 of the many pelicans in the tree
As I exited the river into the gulf I encountered a slight breeze. Currently it was nothing bad, just a slight hindrance that caused little chop. I hoped it was not an omen of things to come. I still tried to stay on the lee side of islands to avoid the breeze. On the protected side of Crab Key though, I found myself stuck in a quagmire. The water became too shallow, and I bottomed out on mud. Instead of turning around I tried to push with my paddle or butt scoot forward for a while, but I eventually conceded dragging my boat. I did not realize the mud would be like quicksand, and I sunk to my shins in the messy concoction with each step. Postholing through the mud finally led to deeper water where I could crawl back in my boat. Behind me though was a long trail of footsteps through the mud.
The water remained a little choppy as I crossed the bays to Turkey Key. The waves were under a foot but still enough to be mindful of, as I could not zone out while paddling. I also had to be careful navigating amongst the islands. If I checked my map, looked carefully around, thought about where I was, and then double checked everything, I could identify the surrounding islands and my position correctly. If I misplaced myself though, determining my location solely by looking at the nearby islands and shoreline would be nearly impossible.
As I approached the shore at Turkey Key low tide reigned supreme, leaving a rocky and shell covered beach exposed. I did not want the waves pushed my boat up against these, so I jumped out in foot deep water to walk my boat in. I almost pulled off my dismount, but as I evacuated the cockpit my toes caught the edge which caused me to stumble through the water until I eventually fell forward, soaking me up to my chest. This exit was not the most graceful, but since the water was not cold and neither was the air, I avoided a calamity.
The endless mangrove trees
When I stepped onto dry ground I walked mostly over shells and rocks, with very little sand on the beach. Few campsites were available that were not exposed to weather or waves during high tide, especially if the gale warning came to fruition. I found a little area to nestle among the small trees though and bunkered down.
With my early start trying to avoid the weather I was done traveling for the day well before noon. My island was not that big, and dense canopy prevented me from going anywhere other than the beach. The breeze kept the day cool, so I found a sheltered spot on the beach, but still in the sun, to relax. I took a nap there while letting the day pass by. The beach site had significantly less mosquitoes than the inland ones, which made the day more enjoyable.
As afternoon progressed the weather report proved wrong. Instead of a gale, the wind lessened. The wind was completely calm, even less than that morning. As a result the water was dead still too, with just the smallest of waves lapping against the shore. As the afternoon sun sank towards darkness the air noticeably cooled. Florida’s fabled warmth left for the night as it plunged into the mid 30s. I had to wear all my clothes (although I did not bring that many to begin with) to stay warm. The chill convinced me to crawl inside my sleeping bag shortly after darkness, missing any star displays that night.
