For the past several weeks, reports have filtered out of South Florida that a somewhat unusual bird, the
Smooth-billed Ani, was hanging out in
Jonathan Dickinson State Park, near
Jupiter, FL. And by "several weeks," I mean that the first report was posted on Sept 19, and subsequent reports followed almost daily. It was the definition of "reliable".
However, two days before we arrived in town, the first good rainstorm of the Fall dropped 1-2" of rain in a couple of days. This turned the Ani's favorite haunt, a large grassy bowl right next to the camping area, into a large swimming pool. And since Anis like to forage on the ground, this was, as they say, "no bueno".
So when we arrived at the park, the Ani had not been seen for several days. And despite our best efforts, it still has not been found. She could still be there, but the park is HUGE and nobody has re-located her yet. DRAT!
Next target:
American Flamingo. While "American" is in the name, only a few of them show up in America each year, mostly in the shallow bays just offshore of Everglades National Park. Turns out, a pair of them showed up recently near Flamingo Visitor Center, in an infamous bay named
Snake Bight. I call it infamous because anybody who has tried to hike the eponymous trail knows that this is one of the worst places EVER for mosquitoes. As one reviewer on TripAdvisor wrote, "
As well as other reviewers, I only walked one minute, before running back to the car, due to mosquitoes". Our experience a few years ago was similar.
So, you can see the Flamingoes in one of two ways: you can hike the mosquito-infested trail and hope they happen to be standing in the relatively small viewing area from the end of the trail, or paddle a canoe from the Visitor Center about three miles and have 360 degree views of the entire bay. Obviously, the canoe is the way to go.
After our strikeout with the Ani and a three hour drive, we ended up at the Visitor Center. The sky was dark, and rain had fallen almost the entire drive. The canoe rental guy was very skeptical about letting us have a canoe:
"You can try if you want," he said, "But you only have an hour until low tide, which means you have to go the long way around. The sun sets in two hours, so unless you want to canoe in the dark, you're going to have to paddle like hell to make it."
Unfortunately, the forecast for the following day was for thunderstorms and strong winds, although mostly in the afternoon. His advice was to come back at dawn and make our journey as quick as possible.
Discretion vs. valor and all that, we took his advice. But given the concerns about tomorrow's weather, we decided to attempt the 1.5 mile Snake Bight trail just in case the Flamingoes were there.
So, although the temperature was around 80F with 95% humidity, we geared up: long pants, gloves (winter gloves, the only ones we had), and raincoat with hood up, all of it spritzed with 100% DEET. And it's a good thing we did, because not 25 feet down the trail, this is what The Wife's back looked like:
And, of course, after a sweaty 3.6 mile Death March, constantly swatting skeeters off the tiny patch of exposed skin on our faces, there were no Flamingoes.
So, time to find a hotel for the night. Driving out of the park to Florida City, however, we noticed amazingly heavy traffic, with orange cones blocking the left-hand turn we wanted to make and police directing traffic. Pulling over to do research, we discovered that a major NASCAR race was being held this weekend at the track in Homestead, with 50,000 fans expected in the area. And, it turns out, those fans need hotel rooms, because literally every room within an hour's drive was booked. DOUBLE DRAT! We considered just sleeping in the car, but really needed showers after the hike, so off we went, back up to Fort Lauderdale.
The next morning, leaving at 5AM, we drove through a tremendous downpour, the kind where the windshield wipers on Extra Fast can't keep up, and you have to slow to 30 mph to have any idea where the road is. We considered bailing, but knowing that Florida weather changes quickly, we drove on.
Fortunately, by the time we arrived at the Visitor's Center, the skies were blue, winds were calm, and the sun was shining brightly. It was a beautiful day for a canoe trip! Or so it seemed...
We are fairly novice Paddlers, but familiar enough with the techniques to make our way in a reasonably straight line out of the harbor. As we rounded the first sand bar, we noticed that the wind was a little breezy, as we were paddling on our left about three or four strokes for every one on the right for our "straight" line. But, we were making good time so thought nothing of it.
About an hour later, we had reached the bay and were scanning the hundreds of egrets, pelicans, and other usual birds for our quarry. A couple of Roseate Spoonbills got us excited briefly, but after about 15 minutes of paddling around, success! Here's a picture of the two flamingos feeding:
[Actually, there is no picture, because I was pretty sure the canoe was going to capsize at some point and didn't want to ruin my camera, so I didn't bring it. But, you know what a flamingo looks like...]
We turned the ship around and began the trek back to the harbor, this time taking the short route because the tide had risen enough to cover the mud flats. The paddle across the bay was smooth, as we were getting into a good rhythm, and then we rounded the corner for our straight shot to port. And were smacked in the face by the wind.
If you've ever been in a canoe, you'll know that canoes are great sails: their sides are fairly high and straight, so they present a nice handle for the wind to grab. When we were facing directly into the wind, we made some slow progress forward, but if the tip of the canoe veered slightly to one side, the gusts would literally spin us 180 degrees or push us into the mangrove trees.
Pulling the paddles with all our strength, and taking a few rest breaks when we got stuck in the mangroves, we managed to inch our way back to the harbor.
Upon arriving at the dock, the Canoe Guy was happy to see us.
"Oh, good, you made it back!" he exclaimed, "We were wondering if we were going to have to send a boat out for you. These winds really picked up earlier than usual, and they're strong enough now we're not letting anybody else out."
And that is how we narrowly avoided being killed by flamingoes.
Thanks to the wonders of GPS technology, you can actually see the route we took. The more red the color, the faster we went, and the more blue, the slower:
|
We're missing the first part of the trip because we forgot to turn on the GPS. I guess technology can't solve all problems yet. |
What's next? How about New England for Thanksgiving? We're headed to Provincetown, MA, on the far tip of Cape Cod, to see how the Pilgrims lived and to pick up a few winter birds. The weather looks good, so our fingers and toes are crossed that it stays that way!
I really hope that's the last boat of this year,
Me