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Around 2 p.m., after gathering firewood and palm fronds, we went inside the tent. I took out a copybook I had brought to keep a diary. I had barely started writing when a thunderstorm approached. The wind picked up to at least 35 knots with high gusts. The tent was bending almost flat to the ground, flapping with such fury that I was sure the nylon was going to rip apart. The thought of being left without a tent and, therefore, without protection from mosquitoes, scorpions, black widows, recluse spiders, snakes, alligators and roaming bulls was not appealing. I stood up with legs outstretched and held the poles upright as best as I could. I stayed in that position for over an hour while the wind blew, the rain poured down, the thunder roared and the lightning struck all around.  Water began to sip into the tent.

I loudly whined, "This sucks!! This sucks! This sucks! This is not my idea of fun! I've had it! I've had enough! Please, no more! No more!"

By the time the storm was over, everything was soaked.  I took everything out of the tent and set it out to dry. The lightweight, nylon tents that are so popular in the department stores are NOT waterproof. Take my word for it! I had even given my tent an extra coat of waterproofing before starting out.
I gathered the driest palmetto palm fronds I could find.  I got some typing paper that had survived the downpour inside the canoe and with it started a fire and made coffee. I learned that I needed to keep a dry stash. In other words: I needed to keep dry leaves and twigs inside a plastic bag to ensure that, after heavy rains, I would have enough kindling.

We did not sleep well that night . By sunset, the clothing and sheets were still damp. The copybook was soaked. It was the first and last time I would try to keep a diary.
La Belle

The following day, we resumed our trip hoping to arrive at La Belle before dusk. We left behind the partial wilderness provided by farms and cattle ranches and entered the town's populated outskirts. Houses flanked the riverbank on both sides. There was no available place to set up camp.

Again I prayed. Again I received the same answer: All is well�

Around 6 p.m. I came upon a house with a boat ramp. I walked up to the house and rang the bell. A man, named Henry, came out.  I explained that my dogs and I were traveling by canoe and needed a place to camp before sunset.

"Could we possibly set up camp on your property just for one night?" I asked.
He came out, checked out the canoe and my dogs and said, "Yes, you can."
He then pointed to a spot next to the ramp and some orange trees, where I could put up the tent.
Next morning, I went to Henry's house to thank him but he wasn't home. One of his neighbors was in the yard. I introduced myself and we talked. During the conversation I mentioned that, if all went well and I made it to the Florida Keys, I might continue on to the Bahamas.

"In the canoe?" he asked.
"Yes, unless by the time I get to the keys someone is giving away a free sailboat".

In Florida, sometimes people do give away sailboats either because it needs some work or because they can no longer afford to pay the dockage fees.

"I am a commercial pilot," he said. "I fly over the Gulf Stream and have also crossed it by boat several times. I know it well. You will not be able to cross the Gulf Stream in a canoe. The current is too strong."

Not only didn't I know anything about sailing but I knew even less about currents, tides and navigation. At the time, I did not fully grasp what he was trying to tell me.

He told me that past the bridge there was a marina where I might be able to spend the night.
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Beatriz Socorro
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