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April after digging for crabs
Alice digging for crabs
Photos by Beatriz Socorro
The W.D.Franklin lock has camping facilities as well as boat docks. My dogs and I camped out at the lock for about three days. During that time, I met a boat captain who had just come from Miami to Ft. Myers with a salvaged sailboat, via the Okeechobee Waterway and the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway - the same route I was planning to follow but in reverse. Almost everyone I had spoken to had told me that I was crazy and that I would never make it in the canoe with my two dogs because of the alligators and because I was going on this trip on very limited funds and would, therefore, need to camp out as much as possible (not an easy thing to do when everything along the shore is private property and most campgrounds do not allow pets). He said to me that, in his opinion, I could do it. He said I would find enough clearings and spoil islands where I would be able to camp overnight throughout the whole route. The spoil islands were created with the spoils that resulted from the dredging of the waterways. They are Federal Government property. Today these islands are covered with vegetation and are home to wildlife.
He also informed me that on the eastern end of Lake Okeechobee there lives a fourteen-foot alligator. He told me that he had come across it on his way here and that this gator was sooooo big and bold that he moved out of its way, even thought he was on a 25 ft. sailboat. He asked me if I had a flare gun and I said no. He gave me a flare gun and told me that if I ran into that gator and it became a threat to my dogs or me to shoot it between the eyes. He also gave me charts for the entire Okeechobee waterway as well as for the entire state of Florida. Needless to say, the dreadful thought of a big, bold, fourteen-foot gator waiting for us at Pt. Mayaca never left my mind.

Next day Cherie came to see us. Cherie is one of those rare Florida residents who was actually born here and has lived here all of her life. She is also into kayaking, hiking and camping.

I said to her, �A boat captain told me yesterday that he saw a fourteen-footer on the lake near Port Mayaca.�
�I believe it,� she said. �There�s a fourteen-footer right here at Hickey�s creek. One time, I was kayaking and I ran into it while it was laying on the bank.�
�Oh, man�and what did you do?� I asked.
�I hauled ass outta there!� she answered.
The staff at the lock informed me upon arrival that there were a couple of large alligators (about 9 ft) at the lock. So far, I had only seen a cocky little three-footer. He had been constantly swimming around checking on the dogs. After a couple of days, I threw a piece of wood at him and the little beast lunged at me with such viciousness that it startled me. I jumped back and fell on the ground. I did learn from the experience that if I were to ever encounter any big gators, it would not be wise to try to shoo them away by throwing something at them.

One day, as I was watching the manatees swimming at the lock, I got to see one of the nine-foot gators. He was close to the bank among the cattails, the lily pads and under the branches of a small tree. I noticed that on the branches there were two snowy egrets that were probably guarding their nest.  It dawned on me that by nesting right over the gator�s hole, they were actually protecting their young. Any predator trying to reach their nest would first have to confront the alligator. These Egrets are not only smart but also tricky. I had to make sure my dogs didn�t go chasing after birds.

On the day of our departure from the lock, the current and the wind were against us. There I was: a 52-year-old, menopausal woman, 5�1� tall, 43 lbs. overweight and with a musculature on the verge of atrophy, paddling a 700 lb., 15 ft. canoe up the Caloosahatchee River. It turned out to be a bigger struggle than what I had anticipated.
The plan for that day was to travel three miles to a small island in Alva and overnight there. I hadn�t even paddled a mile when I was so exhausted that I had to stop somewhere. Along the riverside, I saw a house with a couple of horses in the yard and a small beach. I pulled over and dragged myself to the house and asked the owner if my dogs and I could use her beach to rest because I was too tired to even take another stroke. She said yes and I passed out on her beach.

Half an hour later, we were on our way again. I was pooped! I really did not think I would make it to the island. I had called  Cherie to let her know that we were leaving Franklin lock that morning. At approximately 3 pm I saw her standing at a dead end street along the riverbank waiting for me. I paddled over to her and crawled out of the canoe to meet her. I could barely move even though I had only paddled three miles in 5 hours. And there I was: planning to go from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic and then to the Keys in a canoe. Would I have the strength to make it? Only God knew.
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Beatriz Socorro
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