A Morning on the Wakulla River

Friday morning I woke up at sunrise to the sound of vaguely familiar bird calls--what kind of birds were these? Eventually it dawned on me, they were cardinals, but with a southern accent! It was hard to get out of bed and dress with the chilly temperature in our room. Looking out the window over the guest parking lot, I saw only one car besides our own--there was frost on them--it must have been below freezing last night. They did say these months were their slow season, and it was great to have the place nearly to ourselves.

After breakfast we went down to the dock to arrange for a morning boat tour. We were told they rarely ran the glass-bottom boats these days, and only when the water was clear enough to permit viewing. Out of a fleet of about six tour boats operated by the park service, we boarded the aptly-named named Alligator. Our group consisted of six avid bird photographers equipped with incredibly large telephoto lenses, and us.

Looking down the Wakulla Springs basin

The hour-long tour cruises down the Wakulla River below the springs for about a mile and circles back up along the opposite shore. There were lots of birds to be seen this morning: coot, moorhen, ducks, herons, white ibis, and many anhingas.

Coots

Moorhen

Anhinga perching on cypress knees

The anhinga is among the few birds that lack oil glands, so its feathers cannot repel water. It's also called the "snake-bird" because it hunts for fish underwater. After a dip, the anhinga must dry its wings before it can take flight, accounting for its classic posture perched with spread wings.

Another anhinga near the Cypress trees on the Wakulla River

Ancient cypress trees draped in Spanish moss formed islets in the shallows, giving the river a marvelous atmosphere. We pass by a blue heron, the feathery plumes on its breast showing hints of its mating plumage. 

Blue heron

White Ibis on the Wakulla River

The birders on board were as knowledgeable as our captain--one of them actually spotted a limpkin! The captain said limpkins had become a rare sighting since the mysterious disappearance of its main food, the apple snail, about a decade ago.

Limpkin

Anhinga

A pair of Hooded Mergansers

Further on, they pointed out a pair of Hooded Mergansers swimming near our boat--Herb and I had never seen this unusual duck before. Once the boat reached a certain point, it began to turn around to cross the river towards the northern shore, passing islands of vegetation where birds fed, and alligators and other reptiles basked.

Alligator on the Wakulla River

Turtles basking on a log

Along the other shore the water was a bit clearer, indicating the flow of another spring into the spring basin. A few islands with large trees shelter the mouth of a creek that flows from Sally Ward Spring. The captain told us that this was where the old horror classic "The Creature from the Black Lagoon" was filmed back in the 1950's, adding another note of fame to the springs.

The Black Lagoon

The fossilized bones of mastodons and other prehistoric creatures have been found in the depths of Wakulla Springs since before the Civil War. These are mostly in museums now, though they keep one original and a few reproductions on display for the public here.

Black Vulture

I got this amazingly close shot of a black vulture here before we wound back towards the spring basin--don't think I've seen this sinister creature so close before. Our boat circled by the main spring on its way back to the dock. Despite the murky water, we saw a pod of manatees there; they probably stay right over the springs to keep warm on frigid winter days.

Manatee surfaces in Wakulla Springs

Our tour was over much too soon (I was tempted to get on the next boat to take the tour again); we'd have to figure out what to do in the afternoon. For more photos of Wakulla Springs see my Flickr album here: Wakulla Springs.

All that Chazz!

Chassahowitzka Spring.

The morning after our arrival was quite chilly and breezy, but sunny. After breakfast we packed some sandwiches for lunch and walked down to the boathouse to rent a canoe for the day. On our previous trip we had explored Baird Creek all the way up to its source at the Crack. We asked the attendant for suggestions about new creeks to explore and tide information. He told us that any of the other creeks downstream were worthwhile, and that the winds had been so brisk that there was very little perceptible tide, as the wind pushed the tides out. "Be sure to check out Snapper Hole, where the manatees hang out," he said.

We paddled across the basin of the main spring towards the Seven Sisters. A fallen tree trunk had created a new archway entrance to the springs there--I've been wanting to take a dip in the deep blue vent there, but it was too cold for swimming today.

Herb entering the Seven Sisters.

The Seven Sisters Springs.

The area seemed shallower than we remembered, and it was impossible to navigate around the other end into the canal, so we turned around and continued downstream.We explored a short creek on our right with three lovely homes with boathouses, any one of which I'd love to call home--what a setting! Swamp lilies bloomed along the edges of this creek.

Homes on a creek.

It took some effort to paddle downstream, because the flow seemed to be against us, indicating an incoming tide (despite what the guy at the boat rental had said). We found several other people on kayaks at Snapper Hole, with a small pod of manatees. There were two youngsters who were very curious. One of them hammed it up for us, turning belly-up with fins and mouth in the air, making sucking sounds. He repeated this performance every few minutes, to the delight of all onlookers.

Playful manatee.

Baby manatee sneaks up on Herb.

One of the baby manatees came over to check out our canoe, and seemed delighted when Herb leaned down to pet him. He went under the canoe and then swam back to check me, and I didn't miss the opportunity to also pet him. Ahh, such bliss--that's one for our bucket list!

We played with the manatees and took photos for a long time before continuing down the river. We paddled past Baird Creek, seeing many birds: cormorants, pelicans, herons and little blue herons. The Chass widens as one approaches the tidal zone, and now the wind was picking up.

Cormorant

Little Blue Heron.

A bit farther down we put into a creek on our right to tie up the canoe and have lunch. Three kayakers were leaving, and we asked them if they knew where we were. "Potter's Creek," they replied and told us they had seen some sea otters upstream. We finished our lunch and decided to go up Potter's Creek a bit.

Lunch on Potter's Creek.

We paddled across a wide basin with strong current (probably another large spring there) and were entering a sheltered forest, but Herb's hands were starting to develop blisters, so it seemed wiser to  head back at this point. It was getting late and it would be hard paddling getting back.

Upstream on Potter's Creek.

As we were coming back across the wide basin, we spotted a tiny head near some reeds--a sea otter! We'd never seen one before, never even knew they were here on the Chass.

As we observed, another otter surfaced several yards away, diving and surfacing repeatedly, seemingly playful. Herb surmised that perhaps the tiny head we'd seen first was a baby and its parent or parents (there might have been two otters, it was hard to tell) were making this elaborate display to lead us away from their young.

Getting back to the main river after leaving Potter's Creek, the force of the wind hit us like a hammer. We struggled to move forward against the current and wind, trying to hug one shore and then the other while avoiding the motor boats and their wakes. It was quite a workout, interrupted by short breaks for photos. We made it back to the boathouse around three-thirty, exhausted--we'd feel it in our muscles tomorrow.  But what an extraordinary day--all this wildlife on the Chazz!

The Four Amigos (pelicans).

For more photos of our day on the Chazz, see my flicker album here: The Chazz Two.

Manatee Luv

I'd never seen manatees in the wild before this trip to Florida's Nature Coast. Yesterday, while I was looking at some riverfront property, the realtor pointed out to me a baby manatee and its mother swimming along the bank (first photo). A closer look revealed a yearling calf and two others, one a pregnant female, for a total of five manatees swimming up the Weeki Wachee River.

Today it was cloudy and chilly, so we decided to drive up to Homosassa and visit a wildlife park on the river. They had an amazing variety of mostly native animals, some which I'd never seen: red wolves (once native, now bred in captivity), all kinds of birds such as ibises, flamingos, wood storks, roseate spoonbills, sand-hill cranes, white herons and pelicans, hawks and owls, foxes, a Florida panther and two bobcats, black bears and even a hippopotamus that was donated to the park after being used in a film. All the animals that are able to survive in the wild are free to come and go as they please; only those that can't make it on their own are kept in captivity.

The highlight of our visit was the manatee feeding. A park volunteer gets in the 72-degree water of the Homosassa Spring and hand-feeds sweet potatoes to six captive manatees. Other volunteers drop heads of lettuce and cabbage leaves in the feeding area. There is an underwater viewing house where visitors can see the manatees feeding underwater along with thousands of native fish such as large-mouth bass and tarpon.

Just outside the captive area one can see many other wild manatees on the river. Looking from an observation deck I counted about seven or eight, and one baby swimming by. They winter in these warmer spring-fed rivers because they cannot survive in the colder temperature of the Gulf water. These manatees have so much "awww..." quotient--everyone loves them!

On the Weeki Wachee River

We arrived in Weeki Wachee on Saturday afternoon and after a bit of confusion and backtracking (I'd brought the wrong set of Google Map directions), we found our rental house at the end of an unpaved road, just as we'd been told. The house is charming and the location--well, see for yourselves. This is a photo of our back deck overlooking the Weeki Wachee River. There were lots of kayakers on the river on this balmy day, and the spring-fed water is crystal-clear at 72 degrees. The current propels one downstream at 6 MPH, making it difficult to swim upstream, as we found out. Herb and I went in for a dip and found ourselves drifting downstream at such a rapid rate that we finally latched onto one of our neighbors' docks a few houses down and had to walk across their yard and onto the road to get back to our house.

I've been painting and sketching every day, though I haven't come up with anything I like so far. The water is such a startling blue-green color, and the eddies bubble and sparkle in the sunlight, it's hard to mix the right colors for a convincing effect.

Yesterday, we finally got out the two kayaks that were in the garage and paddled upstream through the wildlife preserve for about two hours as the river meanders towards its source from the incredible Weeki Wachee Spring. We estimated we covered about four to five miles or so, and it was quite a workout, but the scenery was worth the effort. We encountered a manatee along the way, lazily browsing along the bank, and numerous birds: herons and a hawk perched on a branch overhead. The afternoon was magic--better than any Disney jungle safari. On the way back we drifted downstream at such a speed it was hard to control our kayaks. It took only about a thirty-five to forty minutes to cover the ground we'd paddled upstream so laboriously.