The Peaceful Canoe Trip That Wasn’t: Day 2 – Jarod's Stories and Experiments

As the sun rose, we took our sweet time as our clothes and gear dried. We ate, or rather, Weber ate and I drank my juice fast juice, and slowly yet surely we got all of our stuff organized and packed, ready to see what the day had for us up ahead. Weber took his pictures, and left after putting the remaining bulk of our wet clothes in a trash bag, not waiting any longer for them to dry. See, the wind would be behind us if we left at that time, and after the previous day we had, no way we would take a chance at missing that.

The day began and continued peacefully and relaxed. We went with the current as much as we could, and the path we were going was very thin compared to the day before, giving us a much more intimate cruise (no over thinking that).

Eventually we passed the next chickee, but not the one we were aimed at, which would be next… supposedly. We did stop, however, to take a chill break, water it up, and so I could get in a proper stretch yoga style. Weber did his photo thing and we were off again. No wind; just sun and peace.

As we started to pass many small streams to the left, we decided to start exploring. We had alot of time it seemed, and that was enough to see what we could. It was pretty cool.

At one point we had a 4 feet wide a path to move on with wildlife everywhere. We pushed far into it but realized a dead end and also that there was no way this was part of the ‘stay left’ path. We returned to the main-way.

As the day continued, nice and peaceful and easy, we entered into a weird swamp like crevice in the stream. It was obviously off course, but we wanted to see it. It stunk. It smelled like Beef Stroganoff somehow, only like dead Beef Stroganoff. It did give us some amazing viewing. But nothing prepared me for what was next…

Weber starts jerking his head around, and then his body. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but he stopped, and then did it again. I thought maybe he had tourettes and hadn’t told me. He started digging around and pulled out something. Then I heard something, some distant noises. After giving up on guessing the distraction, I looked back towards Weber, and suddenly there was a green ninja in front of me!

While I was partially startled but mostly humoured, Weber did not have Tourettes syndrome. He had in fact, been getting bitten by bugs… I think. And while I had not heard or felt any bugs and had looked away towards the strange distant noise, he had put on a camo green mosquito mask. It was quite the surprise! Weber, you green ninja, you.

We returned to the main way. Dolphins made an appearance at this point, a few of them. We had seen them at a distance previously but now they were close. Let’s chase for some pics and up and personals.

We got kind of close but not close enough to allow Weber a good shot and the current also picked up. At this point in our journey we had passed MANY branches of right turns but we stayed true to our ‘stay left’ ingenious navigation.

Dusk was slowly approaching. Had we missed our chickee destination? We had not seen it anywhere that day. But we were approaching the ocean, also known as the Gulf of Mexico.

We passed some canoes and a sail boat up ahead, saying hi. A woman in the canoe asked where we were heading, sun going down that it was. Her and the man she was with assumed we were on our way to South Joe, where we had stayed the night before, since the current goes strong straight to there.

We had realized we had passed our destination long ago without knowing it, so we figured it would be easy to get to the northern ocean camp site, again changing our ‘stay left’ plan, just to get to the only “camp” site that was not a beach or chickee on this trip.

We told her our plan, to go Graveyard Creek. They both had a blank look on their faces, suggested the ocean has trees and rocks everywhere and to be careful. Basically, they thought we were crazy and insane. So… be… it. We didn’t understand their expressions until later.

We got to open sea, with a beautiful sunset in our midst and some beautiful waves up our asses. We were immediately hit by these major waves; waves that were getting us wet and flooding inside the canoe. It looked like white water rafting or kayaking. And the sun light was going bye bye fast.

We did what we could, with the looming fact that we were once again busting ass to stay far enough away from the shore line to be safe. Of course the shore was made up of dead tree stems, trees sticking out of the water, and maybe rocks; no place to pull the canoe up. If we get pushed there, we would not only be up against a wall and other dangers, but also would have these waves crashing on us. We persisted. But suddenly it was near dark and I couldn’t see.

I told Weber we needed to figure a solution and at once because who knows how dark it would get. There was simply no light, no moon, no reflecting stars, nothing. There would be no hope to counter steer the big waves if we could not see them. He agreed without any doubt and we started to try and find a landing; anywhere we could get the canoe up on shore, if there was anywhere. We continued on.

A bit later we found a small opening to the right that seemed to go inland. We took it. As we rounded around the tree line, the winds ceased and the noise quieted. And the smell of the aforementioned swamp area had returned. So did alot more bugs, and the green ninja mask.

It was dark, we could see the sky but not our direction. Flashlight and lamp time, which equals more bugs. There were some fish that were jumping out of the water everywhere, which was neato except for the fact that how could we seriously sleep somewhere around there? Only one instance would have to happen for us to figure it out.

We found a big open piece of land. Or mud. But it was smooth. We rowed up into it to see if it would suffice. Weber stepped out and lost 15 inches at once. Quicksand’s cousin, quickmud had taken my friends leg. I didn’t know the severity of this until a bit later but basically, Weber’s foot was not coming out.

About 10 minutes later, with some careful prying and slow twisting, his foot emerged, missing his sandal. He reclaimed his sandal, completely mudified, and looked at me. We giggled.

We turned back around. Wait, we were not moving. I pushed into the mud and my paddle went in further than Weber’s foot. His the same. Ironically enough, after Weber was stuck in the mud, WE were stuck in the mud because our canoe was stuck in the mud. And there were no options to push us out. So we decided to do the butt wiggle. Might as well; our asses were numb from so much sitting anyways. Kill 2 birds with 1 stone right? Well, combined with some attempted paddle pushing into the quickmud, we managed to get out of it but not after some minimal panic.

We pushed out of there with the small realization creeping inside both our heads synonymously: we were screwed and would have to sleep in the canoe that night. And that was IF we could find a place to tie it to safely. Even if we had turned around, we had 7 miles in this same wave condition until we could reach NW Cape beach site, assuming we could even see it at this point. We continued on.

Luckily, shortly after some more land, we see a potential sloping area that goes up until it hits some trees, a good 40 feet uprise, approx 6 feet up from shore at the time. We pulled up.

With his leg being mud, Weber got out and checked the new land again. It had strange holes all over it and was very shiny, all of the way up to the trees. He didn’t sink, but he slid. I can handle that. Balance is key in slick mud, and I have that with bent knees and barefooting.

I jumped out and we pulled the canoe as high as we could. Weber tied one of his super knots to a tree and we slowly arranged the canoe to do some kind of sleeping. Both of us. In half a canoe. With colder winds than the previous night. Oh and did I add that wind off the ocean contains huge amounts of water in it? The kind of water with salt that doesn’t dry very easily?

We prepared for the worst, like a storm coming in and destroying us. We pumped the canoe dry, using my toilet paper roll to dry the remaining parts. We pushed all of our gear and stuff into the lower end of the canoe and got Weber’s tent out and tarp to cover the bottom of the canoe. Weber set up a wind sheet and I got my sleeping bag out for some attempted heat.

The full moon was behind us, towards the shore, and we knew nothing about tide except that a full moon can really do SOMETHING to it. But we were up a long stretch a good 6 feet above the tide. No way it would rise. Our feet were wet and muddy so I had Weber get in with his feet out, and used one of our water containers to wash his feet off, using toilet paper to dry. I’d have to do the same to my own following. I got into the canoe after Weber, both of us about 3 inches from each others faces, on our sides, attempting to live through the night. He fell asleep. I did briefly until something hit the canoe. At this point, I found religion. Kidding…

Yeah, that part about how the tide would not rise 6 feet, well, that was an error. Not only did it rise up to the canoe, it kept rising. Holy shit if we had stayed in that swamp, it would have been the end. Long live quickmud! We got out quickly. I jumped out and started clearing as many sticks and trees and debris as I could to clear more room. Cutting my arm, I cleared room to drag the canoe a couple feet higher as well as about 15 more feet inland. We also had a place that we could tie both ends of the canoe and also be pinned in by a small tree against a bigger dead tree.

Weber got in, but this time, I decided to stay sitting and watching, making sure at least he got some sleep (not having much the night before). I figured I wouldn’t be able to relax anyways, with no room and no warmth and the tide STILL rising. I did try and meditate in this circumstance, but it was hard. I knew being tied to both trees should be fine but who knows. Nothing really would have surprised me at this point in all honesty. Plus I was attempting to air dry my feet with the ocean breeze/wind. Not happening. It got some wetness off but I had to de-mud myself again.

I slowly crept into the canoe, getting my then dried feet under the sleeping bag in hopes it would warm up. It kind of did. I folded over my legs, with my head right above my knees, still sitting, my hoodie on, and my hat, and I endured until I was either too cold to resist anymore, or when the tide stops rising. Both happened. I jumped, or rather, slowly slid into the spot I could fit into and fell asleep.

Throughout the remaining night I awoke, since we were afloat, only stable due to the ropes being tied and the boat being pinned. Also, because even though the previous night had been the coldest night I had ever experienced outside, this one was worse. I woke up shaking so badly at one point that I actually got concerned about whatever COULD happen. Damn humans and future predictions. It seemed over dramatized, just like here, in my head at the time. I was just COLD, but I was fine altogether. It couldn’t have been THAT cold overall…

Day 2 over.

One last thing, regarding my hat: think of a big straw hat. This was a godsend. It not only blocked the sun from my neck, shoulders, and face through this and other outdoors trips, it also shielded the sideways rain and the wind. It totally rocked. To give you an idea on how hard the wind was blowing, the hat started out symmetrical, and by the end of this trip, one side of it had pushed up to resemble a bigger Crocodile Dundee hat. Oh and speaking of crocodiles, they exist in the Everglades too. And they are supposedly much more attitude prone than the alligators…

The Never Everglades Serenades
Part 1: The Alligator That Smiled At Me