Everglades National Park is 7800 square miles. It’s big! I
practically takes up the entire southern end of Florida. I definitely felt the
vastness of its size when it took an hour to get from the main visitor center
to the campground, but that was only at the southern tip, near the swamplands
and mangrove trees. The northern part is just as diverse with pinelands,
freshwater sloughs, hardwood hammock areas, cypress trees and scattered swamp
lands. A canoe or kayak is required to access the other miles and miles within
the park along guided waterways, at your own risk of course.
The landscape of the park is very diverse, which is formed
by slow moving water coursing its way through changes in elevations that are
measured in inches, not miles. Slight changes in elevation make all the difference
in how much water collects in certain locations, in turn, affecting the density
and diversity of vegetation and animal life. This diversity includes animals such as alligators, crocodiles, pythons, panthers, manatees, turtles, otters, deer,
pelicans, great egret, roseate spoonbill and many more birds. Unfortunately, this “diversity” also includes
a plethora of mosquitos…..and my least favorite, no-see-ums.
The first night in the park, the weather was a warm and
muggy 80 degrees. Tolerable. The sun would
go down in about an hour and I decided to use that time to set-up my camp chair
and read for bit. These little bitty
microscopic flies kept landing on me and I swatted at a few of them, but they
didn’t seem to be doing any harm, so after a while I just let them alone if
they landed on me. I really wish someone
would have warned me about these evil little flies, which I’d later find out
are called no-see-ums. Little did I know that damage they could/would do.
I spent the night sleeping in my car, which I quickly ascertained
was a mistake when its 80 degrees and the temperature doesn’t really drop at
night and the humidity is almost unbearable. Sleeping in my car-camper had
worked fabulously when the weather was cooler in the other states I’d visited,
but another hot sweaty night was not going to work. Thankfully, I had brought
my small mesh tent and slept in that until the end of my stay.
When I woke up (if you can say that after a night of no
sleep) I had little red dots all over my body that itched 10x worse than any mosquito
bite. I ended up counting 126 bites in total. Fifty on my left arm alone, a few
on my lower legs and right arm, but the majority of the bites were on my butt
and outer thighs. How the hell did those
little perverted bugs find their way through my shorts and underwear to my
skin??!! Or maybe I should take it as a compliment that my cellulite must be
the crème de la crème and they had to work that much harder to get to it. But
seriously, how did they get there? I was miserable. Some of the bites felt like
they were on fire and I couldn’t resist the temptation to itch. I was grateful
that I had packed some cortisone cream and I slathered that stuff all over. It
still took over 2 weeks for those bites to go away. The park had the most
beautiful sunrises and sunsets, but I felt restricted on how early or late I
could stay out for fear of getting eaten alive. Bug spray seemed to have little
effect on those evil little flies.
After that rude awakening to Florida bug life, I decided to
explore the park and see what other animal life I could find that could
potentially cause me harm and kill me. I headed to the visitor center to get
some tips on good hikes and sightseeing. The seasoned volunteer at the front
desk pulled out a large map and made several recommendations and became very
giddy about a main attraction where I was sure to see alligators. In fact, he
said he had been to that particular site early this morning and he pulled out
his cell phone to show me pictures.
“See?” The man pointed to a selfie he had taken standing
about 4ft from an alligator. He continued excitedly in his heavy Maine accent, “The
gators are out sunbathing early in the morning so you get a good look at ‘em.”
I raised my eyebrows, looked at him skeptically and asked, “You’re
not afraid to be that close to a full size alligator?”
“No, no, not at all. They size you up and see that you’re
bigger than they are and they leave you alone. As long as you stay about 15ft
away from them at all times, for safety, then even if they do decide to attack
you, you have some space to run.”
He’s not making feel very comfortable about visiting this site. I checked him on his ‘safety’ rule, “But you’re only about 4ft
away from the alligator in your picture.”
“Yeah, but that’s ok. I’m still here aren’t I? He didn’t get me!” and then he laughed.
My forehead was beginning to ache from my raised skeptical
eyebrows. He then proceeded to tell me about another great hike, tromping
around through the swamp to a cypress grove. “But aren’t there alligators in the
swamp?!” I asked with serious concern.
He responded casually, “Yeah, of course there are but they’ll
leave you alone.”
“How do you know they’ll leave you alone?” I need facts now.
I’m not trusting this guy.
“They just will.”
“How many reported fatalities are reported every year from
alligator or wildlife encounters?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s very many.”
This guy was killing me. His radar for detecting fear in
tourists was obviously broken and he wasn’t doing much to instill a desire to
see wildlife up close and personal. I’m
used to being told to definitely stay away from wildlife…..because they could
kill you!! I’ve seen plenty of National Geographic documentaries of alligators
or crocodiles (whichever) pulling freakin’ Wildebeests into the water and this
guy wants me to feel comfortable tromping around in the swamp with alligators
and pythons??!! Nope. Nope. Nope.
The decision was made. I would visit every place he did NOT
recommend, for my own safety of course. I was in the park for about a week. The
first few days I did ‘safe’ activities. I visited the freshwater bay that
merges with the ocean and was gifted the opportunity to see Manatees frolicking
in the water. That is, until an alligator popped its head up right under where
I was standing and made eye contact with me. (Definitely not interpreting that
as a spirit animal moment, but more as a “that red-head looks juicy. Can I take
her down and eat her for lunch” moment).
I went bird watching, walked through a pine forest, and
spent plenty of time relaxing. On the
last 2 days I decided it would be an absolute waste if I came to the Everglades
and didn’t see any alligators. So I headed down to the popular tourist site,
the Anhinga Trail (not in the morning, when the gators are out and sunbathing
next to the path) and decided to take a stroll. It was a busy afternoon full of
tourists on the 4ft wide paved trailed that ran parallel to a
river and looped around a pond. The water was surprisingly clear and consisted
of a very active ecosystem. I could see largemouth bass and Florida gar
actively swimming underneath blooming lily pads. Birds were dive bombing into
the water and then swimming underneath to go fishing. Alligators were nestled
back in the shade with
turtles swimming comfortable around them. It really was a magical little eco
system and I’m glad I took the opportunity to witness it.
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| Florida Gar |
My confidence increased a bit and on my last day I decided
to sign up for a ranger-guided canoe trip through the mangroves. There were
about 7 or 8 canoes in our group and I was paired up with a retiree named Bob.
We made a good pair and navigated successfully in tight spots. Canoeing through
the tunnels of mangroves almost seemed surreal. The water was shallow and
clear, and the intertwined and curvy roots could easily be seen going down
under the soil. The branches rose only 3 or 4ft above the water, creating
narrow tunnel like structures. It was quiet and peaceful. One could very easily get lost if there weren’t
markers along the way. Oh, but wait…..we got paired with a brand new ranger and
we did get lost….multiple times. But that’s all part of the adventure, right?
At one point in our canoe trip, I became a little
apprehensive when we got stuck behind an older couple that was struggling to
make a turn down another mangrove tunnel and we heard the low bellow of an
alligator. My heart started to pound. The low bellow meant we were in the
alligator’s territory and he wasn’t happy about it. The couple in front of us
stopped paddling altogether and had started full-on yelling at each other. My
imagination started to reel up stories of National Geographic documentaries
that I had seen. I’m going to die because this couple from New York won’t stop
arguing about whose fault it is that they’re stuck. I may have had a moment
where I imagined whacking one, or both of them, with my paddle just to get them
to shut up and move. Finally, the wife shouted to her husband, “Fine!! If I’m
the problem then I’m just not going to paddle at all!! Thank you God. The husband successfully
navigated through the narrow waterway and we could move away from the bellowing
gator. (BTW, the wife started paddling again a few minutes later…and the
arguing continued, sigh).
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| The arguing couple |
As we finished our canoeing expedition and were paddling
through a large pond toward the shoreline, our guide yelled out to us, “So if
you all look over there you can see Croczilla, the largest crocodile in the
park.”
Good thing we were on the other side of the large pond/small
lake. Two ladies in the canoe next to ours, twin sisters from Minnesota with
wide brim hats covering their fair skin, squealed with delight and exclaimed “Oh
boy! Let’s go over and take a closer look.”
What?! Are they crazy? Whatever, it’s their life. If they want to die,
it’s their choice.
Then there was Bob… “Natalie, let’s head over and take a
closer look.”
“I’m good Bob. I’ve got a great zoom on my camera. I can
take pictures from here.”
Either Bob was deaf, or he didn’t hear the slight fear in my
voice. He started paddling over toward Croczilla. No way was I going to help
Bob paddle. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Then I heard a downhearted “aww” from the group. Croczilla
had swum away. I was not disheartened at all, in fact, I was very relieved and
very much ready to paddle toward the shore.
The great thing about national parks is that there is always
a little adventure in store, always something new to learn, to discover, to
smile about. I had no idea that I was so scared of alligators, with no thanks
to the man at the visitor’s center, but I’m glad I confronted that fear and had
the small little adventures that I did.
