Scharrer Residence

Behind me is the causeway, beyond the causeway is Caladesi. To my west is Honeymoon. To the North is Anclote. I am suprised by the building wind. Increasing winds make me give second thought to venturing out into the gulf. The gulf will be reached eventually. I stop on a beach to stretch my legs and as I arrive on shore a small wave splashes me. My waterproof socks minimize the bulk of the wave, but some water works its way to my toes.

As I paddle…this land is a land of osprey. Snags off in the distance remind me of earlier hikes where osprey are visible to hikers. They are plentiful here. A pair of bald eagles are currently residing on the island. An osprey hovers in place before diving down to snag a plump mullet. Another osprey lands in the water and seems to be struggling with a giant fish. The bird makes repeated attempts, but the fish is too heavy. Eventually the osprey leaves with lunch. A spoonbill flies in front of the mangroves, his pink is contrasted against dark green. Cormorants are plentiful. Birds are everywhere. Osprey continue to dive into the cold water. Herons and egrets are plentiful too. I am currently on the grass flats. The water here is deep enough for the kayak to stay afloat.

I eventually pass the white beaches and arrive in view of the gulf. There seems to be some white chop. I figure the Necky Dolphin has seen worse so I tighten the life jacket and secure my gear and head for the open sea. Out past the chop created by the shallow sand bars I feel some sort of relief.  I notice a few people walking on the beach. They are bundled up in layers as if respecting the cold. I keep my attention now to the growing swells.

A park ranger drives a truck down the beach. Seagulls flutter out of the way. I notice that the swells are making me seasick. I stop and for a moment I pretend that I am surrounded by a sea of mountains. The waves are flowing mountains, beautiful yet they are making me sick. The current is pushing me towards my destination. A dolphin surfaces a few times off the bow. Caladesi Island is now making its presence known. The swells keep rolling in. I cannot remember the last time I got seasick. I see a beach covered with seaweed and decide to cook lunch there.

The sandy beach makes an ideal picnic area. I set up my stove and drag my stuff from the kayak. Sitting here in the bright sun under a blue sky I feel like I am on quite the adventure. I notice a fisherman off in the distance. I neatly set my gear out and consider the next leg of my trip. I light the stove and wait for the water to boil. The wind has little impact on the small MSR stove. The fisherman starts towards me. He makes a greeting and I notice his German accent. He speaks fine English and is outfitted with nice gear.

We quickly strike up a conversation. He explains that he is German, but has lived Alaska for a number of years. He describes the beauty of Alaska in great detail. We have much in common. He mentions how people like us have a common language. He speaks in ecology and biodiversity.With sadness he talks about how climate change is impacting Alaska. He fears for the native people. He says the native people of all countries are in trouble. He says this of Alaska…”land falling into the sea, melting glaciers, and decreasing fish stocks.” He concludes that Alaska will be ruined in 2o years. He is on his way to Germany in a few days. He is on his way to Germany to talk with school children about Alaska nature and racism issues concerning native people. He seems to be one of those unique individuals you meet along the road of life.

We exchange stories and information pertaining to nature and the love of travel. When you meet a like-minded person you always feel as if there is so much knowledge to be shared. We say happy trails and make our separate ways.

Stuff

I paddle Caladesi’s interior canoe trail for the remainder of the day. It is silent and calming inside these mangrove tunnels. Life is good here. Towards the end I leave the kayak and head ashore to visit the ruins of the Scharrer residence. Myrtle wrote Yesteryear I lived In Paradise. Her book is a story about her life on the island.

Heading back to the truck I see Dunedin to the east. Boaters are now making their presence known. Pelicans still bob happily in the shallow waters.

“But like everything else in modern Florida, the ecological indemnity of any place can no longer be assumed, whether it is publicly protected or not. Its health will require more than a large dose of faith. Indeed, it will take a deep-hearted love of nature and a pigheaded determination to not allow others to profit from its loss.” -Bill Belleville, From Eden to Sahara

“Most streams appear to travel through a country with thoughts and plans for something beyond. But those of Florida are at home, do not appear to be traveling at all, and seem to know nothing of the sea.” -John Muir, A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf

This quote reminds me so much of Brooker Creek Preserve. We have had seasonally high rainfall for this time of year. The creek is flowing fast. Little leaf boats quickly pass by weaving through black gums and cypress. It is funny how one connects to place. In Gainesville it was Paynes’ Prairie. In Altamonte it was Wekiva. Now it is Brooker Creek. It is my new home for the moment. It is the foundation of my current set of ideals.

-Xavier Rudd

No mountains are found here, nor are there rushing streams like those I experienced recently in the Carolinas. Today I find myself wading in ankle deep tannin-stained water. In all directions it appears that the forest has converted into hydric landscape. At about a quarter mile into the trail I realize water is starting to make its way over the top of my shoes. My fancy Gore-Tex shoes at this point become buckets of water. I trudge along through water thinking to myself that I must be the only one silly enough to hike after last night’s rain.

Though it is mid afternoon the air is quiet, the sun occasionally previews a light-blue sky. At this point I am in water past my ankles. I wonder what sort of critters may be swimming in this new aquatic environment. The occasional tadpole wiggles past my feet as I slowly work through ankle deep water.

I often tell people that Brooker Creek is a refuge not just for nature but for me. I moved to Pinellas County to be with a special someone with whom I have recently parted ways. Now it is me and the preserve. A place that I have come to admire with the upmost respect. It may appear silly to someone to think that I hold a place like Brooker Creek on such a tall pedestal, but one must consider that it is an island of green surrounded by a growing sea of concrete. There is nothing unique or sacred out at sea for all that persists are generic places of consumerism found all too often across Florida.

For those of you who have questioned my respect for this land I recommend that you visit this special place for yourself. You may be surprised at the benefits you reap. Go to the creek and get its good tidings. The occasional turkey and gopher tortoise may keep you good company as you walk amongst the sandhills. The buzzing of a mosquito will remind you that you are for this brief moment another being’s snack. As your feet sink into the cool waters remember that the trail of life is just beginning.

-Albert Einstein

Howard Park...Tarpon Springs, FL