September 4, 2017 9:45 AM
High in the hills of New Hampshire
Delving back into this story about Captain Rob, The Myakka River, gators, friends. I can smell the small outboard engine again, thick blue smoke engulfing us as Rob worked the choke. I can smell the river – dank, humid, black water. I can smell the kitchen at Snook Haven – fried fish and barbecue drifting through the cabbage palm and live oak forest.
But now, sitting here at 2000 ft. – high in the hills of New Hampshire – I am far from that reality.
A large cup of morning coffee is steaming away beside me, jazz playing in the background. A gentle breeze is making its way through our home, as I gaze out to the rolling hills west of us – The Green Mountains of Vermont.
Far removed from the Gulf Coast of Florida – and from Captain Rob too.
We try to see each other once a year at least. We try for more – or aspire to more – but life always has its curves . . . like the Myakka River, winding its way through the West Florida landscape.
~ ~ ~
“Sleepy alligator in the noonday sun, sleepin’ by the river just like he usually done”
– Grateful Dead “Alligator”
April 26, 2016
East Venice, Florida: on the Myakka River
My wife Kath, and I, had really let the “Key life” seep into us this time visiting Florida’s Gulf Coast. We relaxed, slowed down, took it as it comes, enjoying the whole journey.
We had not made any big plans for this trip – simply content to let it happen – as we were both recovering from recent physical hardships, and uncertain about our ability to physically do anything at all. We were however, soaking up the West Florida sun, and loving it. We watched osprey fishing 50 feet in front of us – occasionally wheeling right over our heads, maybe just by 10 feet or so. I have always loved watching big birds. To see large birds – predatory birds – that close, that unfettered by you, carrying on with their lives – fishing, diving, catching, and casually shaking the salty ocean water off – like a dog – emerging from the surf with a 25 inch Amberjack or King Mackerel on the talon is beyond words. And that is everyday all throughout the Keys and Glades of Florida’s West Coast.
We had seen a pod of dolphins earlier in the week in the Inland Waterway – a family group – both adults and youths. The young ones were quite small, only 4 or 5 feet long. The whole family was swimming together, dorsal fins arching out of the water as they surfaced. The young ones splashed around in the shallows like our own children do. So different . . . so much the same. Our friend Rob had been the one to point out the young ones.
Rob is an old hippie friend. A lover of Florida’s Gulf Keys; the plants, the fish, the rivers, the salt water . . . the salt life.
He is one of the truest people I know. We met Rob through a Facebook group involving the Grateful Dead – those of us who followed and toured with the Dead throughout the eighties. When we learned a few years ago he lived very near our travels in the Gulf Keys, we decided we should meet up. We were soon taken by the friendliness and generosity of Rob, and his partner Yianni.
We had already “adventured” with Rob back when we first met a few years earlier – a magical trip by a small Boston Whaler across Port Charlotte harbor and through its little keys and islands: Matlacha, Cabbage, Black, Coon, North Captiva and Cayo Costa to name a few. Cayo Costa being the site of the near sinking of the aforementioned Boston Whaler (and Captain Rob) and stranding of myself, Kathy, and Yianni on the remote island. . . but that’s another story.
This trip, he offered to take us on calmer waters, up the Myakka River, looking for amongst other things – the South Florida gator.
We met Rob just off I-75 – exit 191, River Rd – at a place called Snook Haven.
Snook Haven is like something out of a time warp, or alternate reality. Off the beaten path, down a dusty Florida dirt road, through a dense jungle like understory of cabbage palms, palmetto, and live oak, with philodendron vine climbing high into the canopy. Snook Haven is part encampment, part boat launch, part restaurant, part backwoods juke joint. Though we did not sample . . . Snook Haven has an extensive menu of smokehouse pork, chicken, ribs, and fish and a large – really surprisingly large micro brew menu for a place in the woods, 30 offerings. Lots of local Florida micros too. We’ll be back to check that one out in the future.
But today was for the river.
We all climbed into the infamous Boston Whaler, and after some “choking and smoking”, the engine achieved a consistent cadence. The hot Florida sun hit us as soon as we motored out onto the black muddy Myakka river. As we turned heading upstream, the tannic water, the heat, the palms hanging out over the river, the massive ferns, the smell of the 2 cycle engine – everything hit me at once.
It was like something out of Apocalypse Now or Heart of Darkness – the little boat heading up the dark river, surrounded by dense jungle like forest, slowly moving closer, engine puffing smoke, farther up river.
But we weren’t after Kurtz.
No, our quarry was a simpler one, but equally elusive – The South Florida Gator.
The American Alligator, Alligator Mississippiensis, is a large, primarily riverine reptile. Adult males can reach upwards of 15 ft. and 500 lbs. The gators range from Texas to North Carolina in the US, though, Florida has the lion’s share. Florida also has a small community of American Crocodiles, sometimes mistakenly referred to as Caiman. Florida’s gators are famous for their antics; sauntering across highways, lounging beside waterways; both thrilling and scaring tourists.
As we moved farther up stream, we cracked open a few beers and settled into the boat. Captain Rob – I was instructed to refer to him as this – guided us through many small backwaters of the river proper, through branches of live oak, and leaves of cabbage palms – brushing the sides of the boat. Flowers were blooming en masse in the heat and humidity of the Myakka River Basin – wild hibiscus, ascepelis, and more. Swamp fern and giant leather fern grew in masses on the shore and in the forest.
Then there were the bromeliads. A variety of bromeliads grow in the Myakka River Basin that grow in few other parts of the state, due to its unique micro-climate. We saw whole live oaks – magnificent broad trees, branches completely adorned with different species of bromeliads: large, small, differing colors. One bromeliad species we encountered had a flower stalk that had to have reached five feet tall, looking more like a yucca. Amazing.
I believe I saw the first gator.
We were in a backwater, heading back to the main river when I saw the eyes of a gator just breaking the surface of the water, for a brief moment, the gator disappeared ‘neath the black water. Elusive and often shy creatures. We kept our eyes to the sunny shores, as gators enjoy a good bit of sunbathing and soon saw several on a sandy bank – though they were quick to the shelter of the river, and to submerge.
We pushed up stream, past old Florida. Old homes, and camps from another era. Old groves of bamboo gone feral, standing at least 40 or 50 feet tall – and wider still. We passed more ancient variegated philodendron covering live oaks with their large, broad, shiny leaves.
There were gator signs everywhere. You could see their prized sunning and hunting spots worn free of vegetation on the river’s edges. We were able to spy a few more gators before returning to shallower waters and back to Snook Haven, as time was running thin. Kath and I had other plans for the day as well – a little bit of beach hunting. Searching for some quiet, lonely sand.
It was on the way back to Snook Haven we saw the big one.
It was 10, maybe 12 ft. long. There were a couple relaxing together. The smaller of the two – half the size of the other – quickly disappeared into the tan and muddy water. The big guy, chose to swim just ahead of the Boston Whaler slowly – tail casually whipping back and forth in the water, till we got close enough for his liking – and like a ghost – just disappeared into the shadowy Myakka.
We returned; Captain Rob, the Boston Whaler, Kathy, myself – back to the world of Snook Haven, said our farewells and thank you’s, drove back out under the palmetto canopy, and pointed ourselves towards the Gulf of Mexico and Manasota Key.
What a day. A real “red letter” day.
Yes, a “red letter” day: the days you want to mark on your calendar, carve into your mind and never forget.
The wilds of Florida will do that for you, and have yet to cease to amaze me.
We have to search to find these days, these places – the off the beaten track places. But it pays off when you hit the gold. Having a good captain can pay off too.Yes, sometimes putting your journey – even if only for a too quickly fleeting time – in the hands of a fellow traveller, friend, artist, captain . . . sometimes that – is absolute magic.
Here’s to Captain Rob, and the magic of the Myakka River.
– William J Mullen
William J Mullen 