Alligators At Last!

I think there's no quote today.

--Mitch

I finally saw some real alligators!  Yesterday I went on an Airboat tour through a swampy, mangrove area in the Everglades.  The ride was on a bright yellow aluminum boat that had a flat bottom and an oversized fan on the back of it.  There were 10 of us total on the boat:  7 kids from New York, a couple from Georgia, and myself.  The captain looked and sounded just like you’d expect someone who would drive an airboat to look and sound like.  His name was Jim and he was probably about fifty years old and had long gray hair tucked up into a baseball cap.  His skin was weathered and wrinkled from what must have been years in the sun, and he had a belly that looked like it was built on beer and fried food and which protruded over the top of his faded jean shorts.  But you could tell he genuinely loved being out on the swamps.  He had a hearty laugh and spoke with a thick country drawl and relished in telling stories about ‘gators and fishin’ and huntin’. 

Yeee-Haw that was fun!

As everyone got in the boat, he gave a brief safety talk. It was about thirty seconds long and went something like this:  “Now this right here’s about a six hundred horse power motor.  It’s goin’ be loud and we’ll be movin’ fast so y’all don’t stand up when we’s movin’.  An’ when we sees ‘gators, y’all can wriggle your toes in the water if ya like, but I ain’t advisin’ it.  Y’all good?”  We all laughed, and he climbed in and started up the motor.  The boat started gliding over the surface of the water away from the dock and we went through a narrow channel of grass out into the swamp.  Jim then hit the throttle and the fan roared to about twice the volume and three times the speed and the little boat felt like it became an airplane as it flew over the top of the water.  He made a few zig-zag maneuvers and we skimmed across wet grass and mud.  It was incredible because at several points I thought we’d hit bits of land that were sticking up out of the water, but the boat just skipped right over them.   Jim led us through several narrow channels in the mangroves and then spun the boat to a halt.  “Y’all look over there and you’ll see a small female ‘gator. 

Meet Martha

We call her Muddy Martha.”  About 15 feet away there was indeed an alligator about 7 feet long lying in the mud.  At first I thought it was a fake one because she didn’t move at all, but then after several minutes I saw her eye blink and her head swished across the surface of the mud as if she were shaking off a fly.  Jim told us that it was the end of the mating season so most of the alligators had holed up somewhere and wouldn’t be so active at this time of year.  “The lady ones is all tired and the men ones is all out braggin’ to their buddies,” is how he explained it.  After a few minutes of admiring Martha, Jim told us he was going to take us to a swimming hole.  The engine of the boat roared to life and we skimmed our way through several small channels until we came to a large open pond area that was surrounded by tall grass growing out of black mud.  Jim cut the motor and the boat glided to the middle of the area.  A large dark shape started swimming towards us, eyes sticking out of the water in front and spiny ridges poking up along the back.  It was an alligator that looked to be about twelve feet long.  “A’igh, now if any of y’all wanna dip in and cool off here, I’ll keep an eye on Fred there and tell you when he gets too close,” Jim told us.  Fred approached the boat, swam around it a bit, and then slowly disappeared into the dark, muddy water.

Wanna come swimming?

We headed back to the dock and the ride was over.  I was happy I got to see my alligators, but it felt a little bit contrived. Jim seemed to know exactly where they would be, and I guessed that they must occasionally feed the alligators to keep them in the area and to encourage them to come near the boats.  After all, that’s what people like me were paying for—it just made business sense.   But even if they were somewhat “planted” alligators, it still counted as a valid sighting.

This morning, I left Naples and made my way to Bahia Honda State Park, which is in the Florida Keys and is about 30 miles away from Key West.  My route took me along Highway 41 through the Everglades National Park, and I actually got to see one more alligator on my way. Unfortunately, though, this one was road kill.  I actually saw an alligator that was about 8 feet long and had a tire mark across its back, dead on the side of the highway. 

Driving on the Overseas Highway

It was a bit shocking, but I suppose that they do occasionally try to cross the road and are unlucky with it at times just like any other animal.   I eventually made it to US Route 1 (not the one in California), also called the Overseas Highway, which leads from the edge of Miami and down through the keys off the southern tip of Florida.  As I drove through Key Largo and several of the other small islands, I noticed the blue-green water, the tropical sun, and the brilliant white sand that is typical of Caribbean islands that I’ve been to on cruises before. It felt somewhat magical to consider that I had just driven here from California.  In my mind I’ve always associated this type of environment with long flights and passages on boats, but here I was arriving in a van.  It gave my journey a little bit of vacation feel to it.

Tonight I’m staying in Bahia Honda, and tomorrow I’m planning to drive to Key West.  At that point, I’ll run out of road to travel on so I’ll have to turn around and begin my journey home.  There is a little bit of sadness in my mind when I think of that--that this adventure is half-way done—but it also means there is still a lot of new adventures to look forward to on the roads ahead.

Bahia Honda State Park...feels like vacation!