Sitting in my office at 11:30 am on New years eve and trying to decide which bar or party was going to be this years choice for the "try to stay up till midnight and be excited enough to kiss everyone at your table/bar/booth/etc even though you woke up at 5:30 to go to work and had nothing to do till noon" new year's blast.
I ran a route on one of the professional mileage programs we use at work and discovered that my house to Marco Island was only 2 hours and 20 minutes. Marco is on the northern edge of the Ten Thousand Islands area of South West Florida. I put in my trusty Delorme CD and had a look at the area. Marco looked interesting but there was a little patch of civilization even closer, actually bordering on, Ten Thousand Islands. The area was called Goodland. I looked it up on the internet and discovered a few motels and guest houses. After making a few calls to ascertain that the place wasn't totally sold out, I announced to the family that the usual new years celebrations were on hold and we were all going to Goodland to go paddling.
I knew there was trouble brewing when I asked my wife if everyone was excited (The everyone being the 12 year old son and 11 year old daughter). Robin, my son has been decidedly unenthusiastic about paddling since our last trip which ran 14 miles, about 10 miles more then he expected. My daughter has just started paddling and while she enjoys it, she's still new to the sport and hasn't reached the point where she's really comfortable.
When I arrived home at 1pm, the mood was black. The boy had been invited for a newyears party and his sister had absolutely no intention of spending new years eve in a tent. My wifes only comment was "You don't know how to camp". This is not entirely true. We haven't been camping in the living memory of the kids, unless drinking beer at a bluegrass festival in North Carolina and passing out in a Sears "Edmund Hillary" tent counts. BUT, I have been secretly amassing a hoard of camping equipment under the guise of hurricane preparedness, including a Kelty Tent, MSR Stove, water filters, sleeping pads, and all the goodies I used to own before the kids arrived and stole all my money.
I lost the first battle...no camping. I started feeling like I had been dropped into a National Lampoon movie. I did mention that in the event we didn't find a place to stay in Goodland, we would be able to find accommodation at the Marco Island Raddison resort with the heated swimming pool, the hot tub, tennis courts and a new years party with free silly hats. I didn't say anything to indicate the likelihood that we would actually stay at the Raddison, just that the option was available.
We strapped on Nordkapp and one Falcon 16 on the roof and a K-Light in the back. The kids' walkman and game boys were out before we left the neighborhood. I overheard scrap of conversation relating to Jacuzzis, Swimming pools and cable TV. The drive was a little longer then planned and we left a little later then expected. We cruised through Marco Island in the dark, a well developed resort/retirement area that sports a Hilton and Marriott in addition to numerous beach clubs and multi million dollar condos. At the East end of the island, the least developed area, there's a bridge that leads back to the mainland and a spur with a hand-painted sign that said: Goodland-->. We followed a two lane unlit road for a few miles and arrived at a small settlement. The first motel on the road had a no vacancy sign so we continued on the Margood "Resort, Marina and RV Park". After attempting to follow the signs to the trailer that housed the office, I found a person who seemed to work at the resort. I finally found the office which was in the living room of one of the trailers. Tom, the owner lived there and the first question was did we have a reservation. When I answered that we didn't, he looked at his book and managed to find an unreserved "cottage". It has two single beds and a fold out couch and the price was $70 a night.
Compared to the $270 the Raddison was going to cost, this sounded pretty good. The owners wife showed me the cottage, and the correct euphemism is "Olde Florida Style". The building hadn't been opened for a while and was pretty musty, but I was too tired to drive back to Marco, and we would be out enjoying the thousands of islands.... I'm not sure if the expression on the children's faces was just shock, or if there was an element of terror as well. The immediate realization that there would be no hot tub, heated pool, tennis courts, room service and any of the other desirable trappings of the ideal pre-teen vacation brought a mixture of tears and screams. One child flatly refused to enter the cottage, complaining about the odor and accusing me of child abuse. The girl was a bit more rational and her tears were abated by the discovery that there was a color TV which had cable service. She clearly preferred the "cottage" to spending New Year's Eve in a tent. My wifes only comments were that all the roaches appeared to be dead and the large one on the ceiling turned out to be a small hole in the ceiling tiles.
After the three of us unpacked the van, we convinced Robin, who was sitting on his knapsack in the front yard, refusing to set foot in the place, to leave his pack in the house, so we could walk over to the "Little Bar", the local bar/restaurant, so we could have some dinner. In order to rationalize the hot tub I promised them anything on the menu, since we saved so much by staying at Margood.
The Little Bar was packed. When I asked for a table for four I was asked if we had reservations. Expecting a "This is New Years Eve and we don't have tables for tourists" type of response, I was pleasantly surprised to hear the host say that they'd squeeze us in. Maybe it was the look of utter misery on the kid's faces...but we soon found ourselves at a table looking at a delicious menu. We ordered Conch Chowder, Conch Fritters, Grouper Balls, Florida Lobster Tails, Stone Crab, and some of the best peel and eat shrimp I've had in a long time. I figured with the $200 savings I could buy a lot of good will...sort of a seafood diplomacy.
Spirits soon lifted and we met the couple next to us. They were refugees from Milwaukee. The standard opening question was "Where are you from?" which led into a "Aren't you glad you're not there now because it's so cold." Well, our part of Florida is a bit warmer so the banter never seemed to function properly.
The kids ate their fill and bailed out to test the color TV. My wife and I decided to check out the open air bar at the Margood. I noticed an SUV had arrived with a Dagger Kayak and a canoe on the roof near our cottage and felt some what reassured that we were in the right place.
The bar was definitely "Olde Florida". I ordered a Merlot which arrived in a full plastic cup with a few ice cubes. There were a few fishing types at the bar and a couple in LL Bean Polartechs were sitting at a table. We sat next to them and the whole bar was engrossed in South Park. I asked the couple if they owned the Dagger and canoe and they responded in the affirmative. They were from Tampa and were waiting for some friends to join them on New Years Day for a few days camping on one of the Ten Thousand Islands.
We joined the kids just prior to midnight who were having a ball watching MTV's version of Guy Lombardo. Shortly after midnight we shut of the TV an prepared for an early morning paddle. Amy suddenly realized that she would be forced to share a bed with her 13 year old brother and was horrified! I suddenly realized that her aversion to tents was because that tent would contain her brother! We went to bed and to the kids to work out their own sleeping arrangements.
We all slept well, except Amy, who spent the night in a chair. Amy, my 11 year old, and I decided we would head out first. After a hearty home cooked meal served in a hall like building that had once served as the town's movie theater, We carried our boats 50 yards or so from the cottage to a floating dock in the marina. The ex-movie theater and marina was used in the movie Captiva Island and was partially decorated with memorabilia from the movie.
The winds were light and warm, around 82F but the water was cold, probably close to 68F. A short paddle through a canal left us at the opening to a large bay lined with mangroves and dotted with mangrove islands. There were very few boats and those on the water were slowly cruising looking for a likely fishing spot. We paddled east heading for the Gulf of Mexico, but due to a minor navigation error in locating our point of departure, we ended up in an interesting area deep within the mangroves. We turned a corner expecting to find an opening but instead, encountered a cul de sac littered with dead boats. There were a dozen or so old wooden fishing and recreation boats and an abandoned house boat in various states of decay. Amy, who comfortably paddled 9 miles on her second ever paddle was dragging a bit, possibly due to her night in the chair. As we approached the entrance to the canal with 3 miles of paddling under our belts, Amy seemed to have found her second wind and suggested we do some more exploring. She was about 10 yards behind me when I heard her scream "SharkShark!". I doubt we were in more then 4 feet of water and I suspected she had seen a jack or something similar. She insisted it had been a shark, but every time she claimed to see it, I was looking the other way. Finally it appeared as I was looking behind us, and it was indeed a shark and from the hight of the dorsal fin above the chop, I'd guess it was an 8 or 10 foot bull shark. I only saw the fin for a second or two, but it was definitely not "Flipper". Amy had decided she'd had more then enough and wanted to be off the water, so we made a hasty retreat back to the canal and ended the paddle uneventfully.
Later that evening, after the Japanese meal from Hell on Marco Island, we ended up back at the Little Bar. There was a very talented local musician who played fiddle and guitar. After a few glasses of Merlot, I ended up on stage with my Irish penny whistle playing Jigs and Reels, along with another local, well into his 70s, who arrived with a string bass. After the Irish tunes we lapsed into a bluegrass jam session and closed the place at 1am. The locals are all water folks so they go to bed early.
Back at the cottage the kids were watching MTV. Amy again slept on the chair.
Saturday morning was perfect! There wasn't a cloud in the sky, not a breeze blowing and the tide was at full ebb as my wife and I put the boats in the water off the floating dock. We paddled out to the Gulf, about a 3 mile paddle. The Gulf was like a lake and there were large areas of mud flats visible. The whole area was full of Herons, Ospreys, Ibis, Cormorants and various other mangrove species. We saw many raccoons loping along the shoreline which due to the Spring Tide, was exposed. We paddle in and around many small islands and then let the incoming tide and rising winds take us back to Goodland. There was one area where we were fighting both tide and current for 10 or 15 minutes, but the rest of the 6 mile excursion was relaxing, easy paddling.
By the time we entered the canal, the winds had picked up to 15 to 20 knots and a 1 foot wind chop was kicking up, but it was time to pack up and head home.
On the way back we stopped at Everglades City, a popular launch site for Ten Thousand Islands. There were Kayakers and canoeists coming and going and dozens of parked vehicles with Kayak racks on the roof. We checked out the ranger station and picked up their guide to paddling and camping in the area and then headed back to Palm Beach County.
We got the boats back in the garage just as the rain started, and I just heard on the VHF that the whole area is currently being nailed by severe thunderstorms and possible tornadoes. As I write this, I can hear the storms approaching from the South West, and have been watching the Doppler on the Palm Beach Post web site. Lake Ochechobee just disappeared under a nasty patch of blue, green yellow and red and I'll send this before we get nailed here.
I've decided the spend as many future New Years with a paddle in my hand. I've also learned that the kids may have spent too much time with kids from Boca Raton, and not enough learning about the values that we, on this list, all seem to share to a lesser or greater degree.
Thanks to Jackie and each and every one of you for a most enjoyable, informative and entertaining Paddlewise.
Bob Denton
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