Seminole Soil and Water Conservation District meeting schedule

With our trip behind us, it's back to work. Please visit the Seminole Soil and Water Conservation District's new FaceBook site for information about upcoming meetings and events:

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=53763106353#/group.php?gid=35604503821

Additional information is available on our website: www.conserveseminole.org.

Happy Holidays,
Steve

Water stories worth reading

http://www.news-journalonline.com/special/water

River Trip Day 13: Hontoon Island to Sanford

After a very cold night spent making friends with some very warm people who had gathered in anticipation of the forthcoming boat parade, we set sail for home.

It was a gorgeous day, again with following winds that allowed us to motorsail with the engine throttle set to "turtle."

We approached Lake Monroe with mixed feelings; we were glad to be on our way home to family and friends, but also sad that our journey was coming to an end.

We learned a lot during our voyage and made some great new friends. But more than anything, we gained a new appreciation for this magical, slow-moving river and are committed more than ever to its protection. Our generation has the opportunity to preserve this amazing river for future generations. We also have the choice of leaving to our children a river despoiled. It is time now for us to choose. I know where my heart lies and I hope you will all join in the fight to protect this amazing river so that our children and grandchildren will have to opportunity to know and love this river as we do.

River Trip Day 12, Fri. Dec. 12 Georgetown to Hontoon Island

The day dawned clear and blustery.

After surviving a rocky night at Georgetown Marina, we set off across Lake George in 20+ knot winds out of the northwest. The waves were about two feet and a little confused because the wind had been blowing out of the south for the past few days. Still, with the wind at our back, River Rat performed well, reaching her top ever speed of 7.6 knots as we surfed down the small waves. We tried raising sail, but with the pitching, Vicki was barely able to hang on to the mast and we ended up motoring across with the engine set at just above idle speed and the wind and waves pushing us across.

Approaching the Volusia Bar, we were glad we hadn't attempted to cross at night prior to the front. In the dark, with the wind blowing hard, this approach should only be attempted by those who know the local waters well.

After crossing the lake, the river winds through a very narrow, twisting section which ironically gave us the opportunity to sail. It was challenging, but helped us hone our skills at short-gybing.

This beautiful section of the river is wild and natural for the most part and we saw a small deer swimming across the river as well as otters and other wildlife.

As we passed through the SR 44 bridge at DeLand, we found ourselves running low on supplies (read nicotine delivery systems). With the marina stores closed, we were fortunate to find a kind couple sitting on a bench in front of the Shady Oak Marina. The woman ran to her car, grabbed a pack of smokes, and ran back to the dock as we lined up for a touch and go. As we skimmed past the dock, she tossed the smokes aboard. Unfortunately, the bimini had obscured my view of the small oak tree from which the marina derives its name. I discovered my navigational error only when small twigs and leaves began decorating the deck. Fortunately no damage was done and I was spared having to explain to my insurance agent how I managed to take out a tree while sailing.

The great thing about the experience was the simple kindness of the lady who shared with us, total strangers. It was the same up and down the river. People we didn't know embraced us and we made many new friends. I think it must be the river itself - and the feelings it breeds - that bring out such kindness. "If you go down to the river..."

River Trip Day 11Thursday, Dec. 11 Georgetown Marina

Thursday, Dec. 11:

We are hunkered down. A squall line associated with the approaching cold front is expected to bring sustained winds of 30-35 mph with possible gusts of 50 + mph. We are backed into the slip with our bow pointed toward Lake George and as I write this the storm is here! Suddenly all hell is breaking loose. Our tiny boat is tied securely with extra lines and covered with tarps to keep the rain off the leaky foredeck over the v-berth sleeping area.

At the slip to our south, a large (70 foot) yacht provides a windbreak, which is why I chose this berth last night. But closer inspection shows that the windward side of the yacht is not securely tied and the boat is resting hard on the shared dock between us. If the wind gets strong enough, the boat could crush the dock and us, pinning us against the next set of pilings. While unlikely (I hope) the result would be a loss of our tiny ship. There would be nothing we could do but get out quickly and hope for the best. As I write, I can hear the groan of fiberglass on the dock and hope that the newish-looking pilings can withstand that kind of weight. It is too late to move the boat now. Winds are gusting to 30 mph and my tiny outboard engine would be overwhelmed if I were to pull out into the open water and attempt to relocate.

10:32 A.M.: Looking out the window of our doghouse – built just for this trip - the waters that had been calm this a.m. are now a frothy mess of waves with no real direction, just a sea of confusion. Water is coming in the hatch and I must now stow the laptop to keep it dry and recheck the lines.

1:45 p.m.: The storm has passed and River Rat has escaped unscathed. What had been forecast to bring tremendous wind and possible tornadoes moved through quickly, bringing a hard rain and heavy winds that moved through the area in the space of about 30 minutes, leaving calm winds and cold air in its wake. Leaking hatches in the foredeck threatened to drench our sleeping quarters, but I was able to stow our bedding in waterproof boxes in time to avoid a night of discomfort. Despite the rain and cold air, our tiny electric heater has kept our cozy cabin warm and comfortable. With luck, we should be able to cross Lake George in the morning with a following breeze of about 15 miles per hour. Depending on weather conditions, we will either shoot directly across the lake and continue south or make a short side trip to Silver Glenn, which we had to bi-pass on the way north. I have travelled to the spring by car, but want very much to visit it by boat. The entrance is shallow and tricky, but with an early start we will have plenty of time to navigate it and still be south of the lake before dark.

We are a little behind schedule and I have begun to worry about upcoming appointments and commitments. This is no way to cruise! I highly recommend that anyone planning such a voyage allow at least 50 percent more time than they think they will need. While we have been blessed to have two weeks for this journey, three would have been better and four ideal. With such time, we could have done much more exploring and spent shorter days traveling.
The skies have cleared and the sun is shining through our windows. The v-berth is dry again and despite a strong wind that will likely blow against what had been prevailing conditions, I am looking forward to crossing Lake George in the morning.

River Trip Day 10: Wed. Dec. 10 East Palatka to Lake George

Day 10: Wednesday, Dec. 10:

Arrived at the north end of Lake George around 2:30 and toyed with the idea of crossing. But with another cold front forecast to bring 35 mph + winds and the knowledge that it would be dark before we reached the Volusia Bar on the South side of the lake, we decided to hunker down at Georgetown Marina, just north of the mouth of the lake.

This is the second time during the trip that we have been delayed by poor weather – both times just before a planned crossing of Lake George. Prudence on my part – or perhaps just paranoia fueled by horror stories of six-foot waves on George – has cost us time but also allowed us to meet new people and explore new areas. Georgetown Marina is a particularly friendly place and the locals have welcomed us warmly. A traditional Florida setting steeped in the fishing tradition, good solid docks, clean restrooms, laundry facilities, reasonable rates and Wi-Fi make this an ideal stop. The owners care about protecting the river and the marina is DEP certified as a “Clean Marina.” A small grocery store is located about a mile from the marina.

River Trip Day 9: Orange Park to East Palakta

Day 9: Tuesday, Dec. 9 Orange Park to East Palatka:

Engine seems to be fine. What I took for smoke may well have been steam. Unfortunately, the time spent investigating the “problem” put an end to our hopes for an early start and means a longer day on the water. To be on the safe side, we motored at low speeds most of the day and into the night. This stretch of river is wide, but less developed than the area around Jacksonville and we were able to relax and enjoy the scenery.

Wanting to put some miles behind us, we continued past Palatka and arrived at Corky Bell’s seafood restaurant about two hours after dark – and about 10 minutes after the kitchen closed! Drats, I was looking forward to a delicious seafood dinner. Instead, we were forced to walk across the street to Burger King. We spent the night at the dock behind Corky Bell’s, not realizing that overnight dockage was not allowed. The large motor yacht on the dock in front of us hid the sign! In any case, Corky Bell owner Betty Bell was gracious and even filled our ice chest for free! Bell and her family have close ties to the river and I am sure we will be in contact in the future.

Day 8, Monday Dec. 8: Jax to Orange Park

Day 7 (Monday, Dec. 08) Safe Harbor, Jacksonville to Whitney Marine, Orange Park

After arriving in Jacksonville Friday, we visited with my dear friends Doug and Robin Smith who run Safe Harbor Boys Home. Boys at the home live on boats donated by caring supporters and learn all things nautical as well as attending a special school on campus. While we were there, the boys were building their own hydroplane boats and racing them around the harbor. These boats are really cool: about eight feet long and four feet wide, they skim across the top of the water propelled by 15 hp outboards. Top speeds are more than 20 miles per hours, which is fast in a tiny boat.

In addition to their traditional academic curriculum, the teens also learn to work on marine engines, work with fiberglass and build all things mechanical. They also get to do a lot of boating: over the weekend, some of the boys took a cigarette boat south to another marina to take part in the lighting of the harbor event. Others went deep sea fishing and brought home shark and Cobia, which they cooked up for dinner – yum!

The Smiths also lent us a car for the weekend and we drove home to visit with family for the weekend, leaving River Rat in their care. It was so strange after six days of following the slowly-winding river to traverse the same distance in two-and-a-half hours. Such a disconnect between the beauty of that naturally winding, slow-moving dark water and the dark, straight, utilitarian highway that replaced it as the preferred method of travel.

Just over a hundred years ago there was little choice. It was travel by river or trudge through swamp and forest on foot or by horse. The St. Johns was truly Florida’s first highway: Steamships from Jacksonville would bring goods and people upstream as far as Sanford and prosperous towns like Palatka sprung up along the way.

But with the coming of the railroads, and later, the highways, many of those towns suffered economically when railways and highways bypassed them. Such is the case in Palatka where stately historic buildings are home to just a few stores and plenty of empty spaces. One bright spot was Angel’s Diner, which we visited on our trip north. Billed as Florida’s oldest diner, the greasy spoon is housed in an authentic rail car just a short walk from the marina. Colorful employees and customers, as well as the sense of history, make this a must-visit spot.

Sunday evening, we returned to Safe Harbor by car, had a great meal and turned in early. This morning, Monday, we set out on our first home-bound leg around 9:30 a.m. Coming through the Dames Point bridge I was especially cautious (or paranoid) as I thought back on our near collision with a cargo ship on our northbound track last week. Fortunately, we had no issues and after passing through Downtown Jacksonville we were able to shut down the engine and had a near-perfect downwind sail – the first really long period of the trip during which we have not run the engine. A 12 knot wind on the port quarter and an incoming tide made for a great, relaxing sail.

The conditions came at just the right time as we noticed earlier in the day that the engine was smoking a bit and the cooling water discharge seemed weaker than normal. We made it in to Whitney Marine just before sunset and tomorrow I will have a look at the motor to see what’s up.

Whitney’s is just across the river from Mandarin Holiday Marina, where we stayed on the north-bound leg. While more expensive by 50 percent ($1.50 per foot vs. $1 per foot) Whitney’s is a nicer facility and offers free Wi-Fi and free ice. It is also a DEP certified “Clean Marina.” (Mandarin may be as well, but I forgot to ask.)

After settling in, we had a camp-style dinner of sausage and potatos (Thanks, Dan, now I can never remember which way is correct) cooked up on our two-burner propane stove. It's a gorgeous night and our slip faces the river. The slight swell causes the boat to rise and fall gently, a motion that always gives me a great night's sleep. Tomorrow we will make for Murphy's Creek campground which we passed on the way up. Looks like an awesome spot.

River Trip Day 7 Manderin/S. Jax to Safe Harbor, Jacksonville

This huge ship nearly ran us down as we approached the Dames Point bridge in Jacksonville. It was coming through the bridge on a collision course with us (we were far outside the channel). Fortunately, the captain was able to make the sharp right turn to remain in the channel and we were spared. But for a few minutes that seemed like a lifetime, I thought for sure we were going to die. After our close call, we made it safely to Safe Harbor Boys Home where we visited with very dear friends Doug and Robin Smith. The Smiths have helped hundreds of teen boys (including yours truly more than 20 years ago) get their lives back on track. If you are looking for a charity to support this holiday season, I encourage you to consider providing gifts for the 11 boys currently living at this water-based facility. Details on their needs can be found at www.boyshome.com. For the record, I would not be the man I am today if not for their guidance during those formative teen years. Thanks guys!

River Trip Day 6 Palatka to Manderin/S. Jacksonville

coming soon

River Trip Day 5 Satsuma/Welaka to Palatka

River Rat docked at Murphy Creek, an incredibly beautiful primitive campground run by the St. Johns River Water Management District. The site features a handful of campsites situated around fire pits. We stopped for a short hike on our way to Palatka and plan to stop for the night on our way home. During our stop, we had the place to ourselves. There is no cost to stay at the campsites and the sites may be occupied for up to a week. Facilities are limited: no potable water and only compost toilets. Still, the beauty of this place makes it a must-see.

River Trip, Day 4: Astor to Satsuma/Welaka

Day 4 (Monday, Dec. 1) Astor to Satsuma

This marks the first day I did not write in my paper journal at the end of the day’s leg. I was simply too tired. The day began at Astor Bridge Marina where SR 40 crosses the river. Though we had lost a day to forecast high winds that never really materialized, I am growing philosophical about the timing of the trip. This was never about meeting schedules so much as exploring this amazing river, meeting the people who love it and educating others about the need to protect it.
The day started clear and cool and we pulled out and passed under the draw bridge just before noon. (Even though I always wake early when sleeping aboard, I never seem able to cast off the lines as early as I would like.)
After making our way north along the winding river, we passed through the Volusia Bar, which marks the entrance to Lake George, which has a reputation for steep choppy waves during high winds. We were lucky and faced only a tiny swell. The lake stretches 14 miles from south to north, with channel markers set at just about the right distance apart to been seen with the naked eye on a clear day. In rain or fog, one could easily become lost without good navigational skills or a reliable GPS.
Our plan had been to cut across the lake and spend a night at anchor at Silver Glen Springs. But due to the cold, we decided to bypass this gem and hope for warmer weather on the way home. To keep on schedule, we motored into the wind along the rhumb line rather than tack back and forth across the lake. The latter would have been more fun, but would have cost us a couple of hours we didn’t have to spare. Oh, the human penchant for measuring time and how it costs us the simple joys of living! Damn the inventor of the clock!
Around mid-lake, we spied a pair of stately Bald Eagles sitting atop a channel marker. This is unusual because the birds prefer higher perches, but perhaps the size of the lake limited their options. They flew off as we approached, giving us a perfect view of their majesty in flight.
After the lake, the wind direction became more favorable and we motor-sailed downstream, toward Welaka, a small community situated across the river from the mouth of the Ocklawaha. My soul wanted badly to cruise up that dark beautiful river, but a shallow entrance and overhanging branches persuaded my mind otherwise. Having canoed, kayaked and camped along the middle section of that stream near the confluence with the Silver River, I yearned to return to a place that is in many ways unchanged from the days when Native Americans fished and hunted along its shores. On a winter canoe camping trip with only my dog Winston (God rest his soul), I spent more than a full day on the river without any sign of human activity – no boats, no fishermen, no buildings or bridges – the cries of monkeys introduced for the filming of Tarzan films the only proof that man had touched or seen these shores.
With the sun beginning to dip behind the hardwood swamp that borders the river and fades into pine and scrub oak as the land rises to sandy hills within the Ocala National Forest on the west bank, we began looking for a place to stop for the night. Three days without Internet service put that at the top of the list and we found our sweet spot at Acosta Creek Harbor Marina. A small marina and boatyard set at the foot of a sloping bank on which sits a restored 19th Century river house, the marina was a welcome stop. Laundry facilities, restrooms with showers and other amenities we take for granted in our land-bound lives were welcome treats for us.
In the early evening hours, a small group of live-aboard cruisers who call themselves the Liars Club, gathered ‘round a pair of picnic tables set beneath a canopy of oak trees near the bank to swap tall tales and small gossip.
Overnight, there was a light rain and the weather turned cooler, but we slept well despite the propensity of my bunk to sometimes collapse without warning due to an engineering mistake on my part. (I am determined to make the small fix required this evening, the time required for the job less than what is required to reset the bunk after each collapse.)
This morning we will set sail for a destination as yet undetermined. We had thought of Palatka, home of the SJRWMD, but the distance is so short as to make it almost unworthy the effort. Perhaps we will continue on to whatever port presents itself at sunset and stop at Palatka on the journey home.

River Trip, Day 3: Astor to Astor

Day 3 (Sunday, Nov. 30) 10:15 – 10:30 a.m. Astor to Astor
This surely is the shortest voyage ever undertaken. Plans had us crossing Lake George, but mother nature had other plans and a forecast for high winds and possible tornadoes had us taking refuge at the protected harbor of Astor Bridge Marina, directly across the river from the Blackwater Inn.
The weather turned nasty and my brother Jeff drove up to pick up the girls who have school Monday and to deliver Vicki, who was now free of work responsibilities.

River Trip Day 2: Hontoon to Astor

Day 2 (Saturday, Nov. 29) Hontoon Island to Astor (10:30 a.m. – 3 p.m.; about 20 miles)
Weather again perfect, with light following breeze and temps in the mid-70’s. This stretch of the river is particularly beautiful, with few homes and vast expanses of hardwood swamp along both shores. Several elbows in the river would be ideal for overnight anchorage.
Life aboard a small vessel like River Rat is austere and difficult by modern American standards. We have no running water, no television and I constantly bang my head on the low cabin ceiling. Despite these and other hardships, I find myself loving this experience as much as I did living aboard a larger vessel years ago. The semi-nomadic lifestyle of long-term cruising is perhaps as close as one may come in modern times to frontier life. Much of the safety and convenience we have come to expect as a birthright in modern times becomes much more dependent on individual responsibility. Do a poor job of anchoring or navigating and the result could be the loss of the ship. Fail to stock enough propane and dinner is likely to be cold. By the same token, people who live on the water are the most generous I have ever known. In a storm, total strangers will put themselves at risk to help protect another cruiser’s boat. A man we met at Hontoon, a cruiser from New England planning to winter in Sanford, asked another new acquaintance for two slices of bread to go with his evening meal. The answer was “sure” and said with a smile. I have known my shore-side neighbor for four years, and while she is a wonderful friend who would deny me nothing, I would feel weird asking her for food. On the water, it just isn’t a big deal.
Today is special for another reason. In a few days, my youngest daughter, Jessica, will turn 16. We had a small celebration at the dock before Vicki left to cover the later-aborted Shuttle landing, but I wanted to surprise her with a special dinner. We docked at the Blackwater Inn, just south of the drawbridge at SR 40 and enjoyed a feast of shrimp, fish and other goodies from the sea before retiring to the cabin for a restful night’s sleep. The sounds of cars crossing the metal grating of the bridge, muffled by the fiberglass walls of the boat, seemed almost peaceful despite the contrast with the otherwise peaceful night.

River Trip Day 1: Sanford to Hontoon Island

Day 1 (Friday, Nov. 28 – the day after Thanksgiving)
Sanford to Hontoon Island State Park 12:30 - 4:30 p.m. (roughly 20 miles)
We left Sanford late after spending two hours adding what seemed like hundreds of pounds of unnecessary provisions. The day was one of those perfect fall afternoons that make me love Florida so much. The temperature hovered around 75 degrees and a light, southwest wind pushing us gently along from astern. On this first leg, I was joined by my daughters, Amanda, 17, and Jessica, 15, giving us a rare opportunity to spend time together without the distractions of TV, computers and other family members. The girls slept for much of the day, having shopped all night for sales during the aptly-named Black Friday – the magical day on which retailers supposedly break even and begin to make a profit and on which supposedly normal people forego sleep, fight huge crowds and stand in enormous lines to save a few dollars. The time alone at the wheel allowed me to clear out some of the cobwebs and focus on this journey, so long in the back of my mind and finally becoming a reality. I have billed this trip as a way to build relationships along the river for the purpose of protecting a resource that is under growing threat. It is that, but also, for me, so much more. This voyage is one of discovery – discovery of more of this river that I love so much and discovery of my relationship to it and to the society in which we live.
We averted our first disaster at sea just after crossing Lake Monroe by narrowly avoiding a huge submerged log being towed behind a motor boat crossing in front of us. The rest of the day was uneventful, with the river unfolding her beauty for us in her own time. (Like boats, I always think of bodies of water as female, perhaps because of the life they give and our dependence upon them and our often casual disregard for their welfare.
Passing Blue Spring State Park, we saw several kayakers, a few manatees and a large gator. On the west side of the river there is an elbow – which I believe was once the main river channel – where Vicki and I had once anchored for a night. A near-perfect spot with good protection from the wind and large-boat traffic, the bend is frequented by manatees, the breathy exhalations of which can be heard from inside the boat in the stillness of the night.
This area is perfect for kayaking as it is rich with wildlife, protected by no-wake rules and easy to access via Blue Spring State Park, which rents canoes and kayaks, or via a small dirt road just north of the park.
Arriving at Hontoon Island State Park, we were greeted with the sight of its docks nearly full thanks to a gathering by members of the Central Florida Cruising Club. Another group, organized that night, chose a name I am loath to print, but proved to be just as friendly and welcoming. Members of both groups committed to working with us to protect the river and I am encouraged by the reception we received.