We technically had more than a day left at this point, but we were leaving so early the next "day" that Saturday was really the last day we had to enjoy Florida. Instead of focusing on city life in Miami (as I mentioned before), we chose to explore a true gem of this southern-most state: the Everglades (aka the river of grass)!
Day Four: The Magic of the Everglades
We started the morning off by eating a quick continental breakfast and saying goodbye to the beautiful Key Largo area (you will be missed!). We started the drive up to the Everglades (about 1.5 - 2 hours) and to find some packable lunch, considering there wouldn't be much to eat at the Everglades. I'm glad for that, because it means less litter in the preserve. We stopped by Florida International Universioty to find food, discovered it was closed, saw some girl lock herself out of her car (we felt really bad but couldn't really help), got some tasty wraps from a restaurant near campus, and decided on taking the 15-mile National Park tour loop on the official tram rather than a commercial tour.
There are some tours Mike and I want to go on later, though, like Tour the Glades, which is a private eco-tour led by a man named Todd. You can kayak through the mangrove swamps, hike in the glades, camp out there, or do a combination of tour-styles but it starts really early in the morning. Or there are these neat kayaking/boating tours also with Everglade Area Tours which include some salt-water kayaking also. Both sound neat!
Some people call the Everglades a swamp, but really it's a slow-moving river originating in Lake Okeechobee, fed by the Kissimmee River, and flowing south about .25 miles a day into Florida Bay. Isn't that wild?! Shallow waters, of less then 1.8 m (6 ft) are invaded by mangrove trees. Their roots decrease the speed of the waves and retain the sediments, helping the formation of new land. A hectare of mangroves produces annually 7.5 tonnes of leaves, which depose at the bottom of the water, and represent the base of a food chain
The waters of Shark River Slough flow ever so gently to the southwest, into places with intriguing names such as Rookery Branch, Otter Creek, and Tarpon Bay. Ultimately, these waters give rise to the Shark River and to the Harney River, both of which empty into the Gulf of Mexico.
Everglades National Park was founded in 1947 in southern Florida to protect the fauna and flora of a territory of 600,000 hectares (6,000 square klometers or 2,400 square miles) of an unique but fragile beauty, one of the ecologically most menaced American territories. n 1976, Everglades was declared Reservation of the Biosphere.
Something else interesting about the Everglades is that it's the only place in the world where alligators and crocodiles exist side by side. And you can tell an American alligator from an American crcodile in three ways: 1) the gator has a broad snout while the croc has a narrow snout; 2) the adult gator generally has blackish coloration while the crocs have olive brown coloration, and 3) only the teeth of the upper jaws are visible on a gator when its jaws are closed but teeth from both jaws are visible on a croc when its jaws are closed. Also, the Everglades is the only place in America where you can find crocodiles. Neat, huh?
This is the tram. I realized I didn't actually take a photo, but I thought it'd be nice to include something to remember what it looked like. We were lucky because Diana rushed to the front to grab a seat after the fourth row or so was taken by other like-minded tourists. The front seat turned out to be the best because we stopped the longest by the animals we spotted before they ran off, sunk deeper into the water, or even just stayed there (to ensure we got good photos).
Anyway, another cool thing I learned was that the Everglades hosts over 350 bird species and over 1,000 plant species, including 120 tree species! The landscape varies from estuaries and sedge fields to mangrove islands and pine forests. So that means there is a lot of variety here!
And dispersed throughout the Everglades are large tree islands (some are pictured below) called "tropical hardwood hammocks" and smaller shrubby islands known as "bayheads." The hammocks exist on limestone ridges rising a few feet above the seasonally wet sawgrass prairie. These higher elevation areas provide a flood-free environment with a thin layer of soil that can support a multitude of tropical and temperate zone vegetation. Bayhead communities also exist on ridges, but since the elevation change is less than that of a hammock environment, these ridges are periodically inundated by water. This results in an equally varied but different assemblage of plants. The hammocks have uses for gators, where they dig ditches where the water during the wet season will collect so that there is a pond for the gator to wade in when the dry season sets in. Deer and other animals also come here to rest during the hot, sun-baked dry season. Native indigenous peoples used to come and move from island to island as well during the wet season, where these higher ridges provided docks for them to cultivate food or store resources. Interesting, no?
Many adult gators create and expand on over a period of years. An alligator uses its mouth and claws to uproot vegetation to clear out a space; then, shoving with its body and slashing with its powerful tail, it wallows out the depression. Especially during droughts, gator holes provide vital water for fish, insects, crustaceans, snakes, turtles, birds, and other animals in addition to the alligator itself. Sometimes, the alligator may expand its gator hole by digging beneath an overhanging bank to create a hidden den. After tunneling as far as 20 feet (6 m), it enlarges the den, making a chamber with a ceiling high enough above water level to permit breathing. This is not the alligator's nest but merely a way for the reptile to survive the dry season and winters.
Note: you'll see the gators in these little well-like things. Those function as gator holes on the side of the road where the gators can escape the heat. Sometimes you'll see babies on both sides, which makes it hard for the moms to take care of them and protect them from the many predators who loves to eat baby gators (like the blue heron). I can't imagine how hot it is must be for these poor animals, huddled in increasingly shallowed puddles with their backs showing, with many of them trying to care for their careless babies wandering around. Tough life!
As we hoped, we saw a ton of gators ! I don't know where we really saw any crocodiles though... I guess I just don't have a trained eye. But look at all the babies we saw too! Actually, despite common beliefs, apparently gator mothers are very dedicated parents and care for their young for several years after birth. I love the young ones' bright stripes and adorable light eyes. And the giant gators trundling around or hunkering in their makeship gator holes are just amazing. I caught some really good detail in terms of their pebbly skin. They definitely remind me of how I imagine dinosaurs to look...
The further point on the trip is the observation platform where you can get a 360-degree view of the glades. It was pretty cool, with turkey vultures (or maybe black vultures?) looping and fighting on the rooftop. It was stunning having them fly right up next to the platform, because you could feel their wingbeats. Sometimes it felt like they were going to swoop at us, but they would bank up at the last minute and land somewhere on the roof. Amazing.
We also saw all these gators swimming about from the platform in a deeper pond area. They are very sneaky and terrifying in a primordial sense. They just float up slowly and sometimes you don't notice until they're RIGHT next to you. It's hard to get clear photos of them when they're covered in foliage, but it was such a neat experience to peer down at them. I took an HD video of one swimming lazily through the water. They are actually very elegant and graceful when cutting through the still waters like that in an snake (or maybe shark) like movement. It reminds me a little of a more powerful and intimidating Barley, who uses his tail like an otter to steer in the water.
On the way back, Diana asked if we could trade spots on the tram so that Chris could get an even tan...and sadly they ended up having way more cool stuff to look at on their side. But I guess we saw a lot on the way there, so oh well. I did get to see a gator cross the road from my side to their side, though. (Note: when I was sitting on the other side on the way to the observation platform, this locust hit my leg, which I was propping up behind the driver's seat, with such force! Then it popped back out and observed me before turning off and flying away again. I had some mosquito reppellant on me though. I hope I didn't harm it.)
When we left, we realized that we actually saw the highest concentration of life by the entrance of the park. This was true on the way in as well as the way out. Birds in particular were plentiful. I got to see some baby chicks, a blue heron really up close, some turtlres, a purple gallinule (the first bird pictured on the left below), some anhinga (a.k.a. snake birds), egrets, coromorants, some gar lurking under the water (I took some photos but they're hard to make out the gar so I didn't post them) and others. It was awesome.
I thought that we saw the last of the gators so far out and so late in the afternoon, but there were two gators who were super ridiculously close to the road just hanging out. The first one looked like the first one we saw when we entered the park, and maybe it just moved closer to the shade or something because it was almost in the same location. A heron was keeping it company. And there was another gator swimming around in the water in front of the heron.
The second gator was on the other side of the same pond, across the street. He was just sitting out there, with his sharp teeth on display. I think I read somewhere that a gator that is baring his teeth in this way is taking an aggressive stance. A little note on aggression:
Back in 1967, when it was formally listed, trapping for meat and hides had reduced the alligator population in Florida to no more than 300,000. Now there are 1 million to 2 million. At the same time, the state's human population has exploded. As a result, development is pushing into wetlands that were once pure, alligator-friendly wilderness, and agriculture is draining huge swaths of alligator habitat. The Everglades National Park is just one-seventh the size of the historic Everglades swampland, so the downsizing forces the animals to share territory that humans consider their own (even though, technically, I'd say we're the invaders).
It's a pretty familiar story, isn't it? Like, in the American West, mountain lions are getting squeezed, and lethal attacks by the big cats have become more frequent. In the Northeast, it is black bears, foraging in suburban backyards. And now here in Florida, it's gators. And unlike cougars and bears, which are rarely spotted, alligators are everywhere and are almost always docile. Like we saw along the path just inside the Shark Valley entrance, gators loll along the bank of the adjacent canal, as uninterested in the people as they are in the bugs that swirl overhead. Yet park employees have seen tourists run over alligators with bikes and wheelchairs, throw rocks at them and stab them with sticks. People even put kids on the backs of the creatures for a gator photo op. "The alligator isn't the problem. It's humans," says park naturalist Maria Thomson. "We're pushing them to the limit."
And every so often, they push back. Whenever an alligator kills a human, the state sends out trappers to catch and kill it.
But it's not as if those particular alligators were more dangerous than most, and destroying them won't prevent future attacks. Officials say the best ways to avoid becoming dinner for an alligator are not to feed the animals, which can lead them to lose their natural wariness; to stay away from the water's edge at dusk and dawn, when the creatures tend to hunt; and to be generally wary in and around the water. I thin the best policy is to treat them with respect and to protect their natural living space. Any more encroachment and we'll only see more unfortunate clashes between humans and these fascinating animals. As you can see, we tried to take our photos from a respectful distance.
Anyway, I really just fell in love with the Everglades on this trip. I wish we could come during wet season too, in order to see the difference. Then instead of dry grassland, we'd see miles and miles of sawgrass and foliage covered in the clear water of the river. Life would flourish more abundantly than it is now. How amazing would that be? I'd definitely want to kayak through in a grove of cypresses and mangroves.
Trekking through the glades made Chris hungry (plus, the heat was pretty draining I suppose), so Chris pulled out his trusty rice and beans (Chris: "Yum, they're still warm!" Diana: "Ew.") We asked the Miccosukee Indian Village if they were still doing airboar tours, but they were closed at 5 (that means boats docked by five o'clock), and it was already 4:45 PM or so.
Then we drove down toward Miami, and Mike called one of the local airboat tour companies we drove past on the way to the park and... voila! We found a place open until six, with tours every twenty minutes or so! Good job Mike. And Coopertown got decent reviews, without having anything obviously negative (some tour companies feed the alligators! thereby conditioning them to come up close, which is horrible; some places "wrestle" the gators, which I also think is horrible and cruel because it forces gators to do really annoying things even if they aren't hurt).
But it was kind of sad because there were these baby gators and turtles that were taken from their mother (who, like I said before, is very protective and dedicated) and tossed in a tank for display. I asked if the babies were rotated so they could be with their mother and the guy at the counter assured me they were treated well. Still, I couldn't help but wonder. Plus, this place serves gator nuggets, so I have a feeling some of the gators there are fed to tourists. And I was really struck by the stark juxtaposition of the trapped gators, locked up behind fences, against the free and wild Everglades was rather sad. One young juvenile gator kept clawing at the sheer walls of his cage and he kept flopping over and trying again. It must have been so tiring. (He's pictured below, the one that is look at the concrete wall to his right.) And the giant gators look so listless, just sadly soaking in tiny man-made pools. Sigh. It was very depressing and heartbreaking.
Nonetheless, we enjoyed the airboat trip (which makes me feel slightly guilty). It was almost as informative as the national park tour, and the airboat itself was a more exciting way to travel. Plus, it wasn't as hot traveling across the water as it was traveling across the dusty, dry plains.
The Everglades, while looking so empty as it stretches so far and vast, is actually teaming with life. We didn't see that many gators but the tour guide estimated that on their route, there are something like 50 different gators that frequent that area. Also, I think they're more active in the morning than late at night. Either way, we still saw a few among the many birds. The first gator we saw was this lovely lady sunning herself in the last rays of light before nightfall. The tour guide (in another difference from the "no disturbing the wildlife" policy of the national parks) rolled up a piece of sawgrass and tossed it into the water before her to lure her into investigate, thereby getting closer to us. It worked, but I felt kind of strange to be annoying an animal in its oan backyard.
Later on, we were stalked by a curious girl who kept floating downstream toward us, disappearing, and then reappearing closer and closer to the airboat. It was literally within touching distance of Chris where the water was so shallow she was walking rather than swimming (their body movements are different when they walk in comparison to swimming) toward us. Then she disappeared one last time, and we felt her bumping along underneath the hull. Diana was a just a little freaked out because it had gotten so close. She stood up and backed away, but Chris (in her opinion) may have felt the need to act "manly" so he leaned in a bit closer, but we could tell he was a little nervous too!
Of the two tours, I enjoyed the national park tour more (it was more informational, and I trusted the information more, whereas this one was more of a ride). But both were enjoyable and now Mike can say he's been on an airboat. Plus, we saw some great things and I got one of the best shots of the day! See the two storks, one of which is taking off? And the blue heron? I love this picture... I also have one below that looks like the heron is eating a dark donut or something, but that's actually a fish it caught and ate. But the fish was fighting back and my camera shutter was too slow to catch it. So instead the flipping motion made the fish look like a donut. Oh well.
Finally, one thing that was unique to this trip was that we also got to see some endangered animals like the apple-snail kite. It flies slowly with its head facing downwards, looking for its main food, the large apple snails. For this reason, it is considered a molluscivore (a carnivorous animal which eats mainly molluscs - I know, I didn't know there was a specific name for this!). To be fair, snail kits are only locally endangered in Florida, with a population of less than 400 breeding pairs. Research has demonstrated that water-level control in the Everglades is depleting the population of apple snails. Sadness. these birds are very lovely and they're a necessary part of the delicate balance of life in the Everglades...
The ride was only 45 minutes long, but it was definitely a nice little trip to close out our time in the Everglades. I love that the water looked clear but was still murky because of all the undergrowth. Who knows what could have been lurking underneath? When we finally landed, we were offered free pictures with a baby gator, but Diana and I felt so bad for it that we didn't want to do it. Poor Mike wanted to touch the little guy, but he felt too guilty so we passed on. Now I kind of wish we did it because it was such an adorable baby (only 2 years old). But I think it's a good idea that we passed on something that is rather traumatic and cruel.
This little forray into the Everglades alone (not counting snorkeling, which was also great) was worth all the hassle to fly to Florida, I think. Something that really stuck with me, from what the tour guide at the National Park said, was that even just a small group of people who were passionate about conserving this treasure were able to save it. It's pretty inspiring, if you think about it.
So as you gaze out to the horizon during your own visit, remember "There are no other Everglades..." There really is no place else like this in the entire world.
~~~
Well, we made it back to Miami and checked into our hotel to washed up before dinner. We decided to eat at Versailles, whch is this authentic (with rave reviews, but not necessarily from Yelp)) Cuban restaurant favored by Cuban ex-pats (if you can read Spanish, I took a picture of the plaque explaining this below). The line was HUGE, as you can tell from one of the pictures below. While we waited, I remembered to get some Café Cubanos (a.k.a. cafecitos) for Mike to try. Basically, the term "cafecito" refers to an espresso shot which is sweetened with demerara sugar as it is being brewed but it also covers other drinks that uses cuban espresso as its base. It was, as you can imagine, delicious and strong (that's why it's served in those tiny cups). I also got some meringues as a little "as we wait" treat: two for me and Mike, two for Diana and Chris.
Chris was obviously very excited to eat traditional Cuban food, as was Diana, which resulted in lots of hugging (above). Who can blame them? Once I tried the food, I realized I should have been giddily hugging Mike as well. I forgot to take pictures of the truly amazing empanadas (probably my favorite part of the meal) and the tasty by (really, truly) exceedingly strong pitcher of freshly made mojito garnished with fresh sugar cane.
As our last little hurrah, we went to walk around Calle Ocho for some dessert: ice cream from the highly recommended Azúcar. Verdict? Delicious, creamy, and rich. A good way to end the night.
The next morning, we had to get up around 4:00 AM (sound familiar? we chose the cheapest flights, which resulted in our supreme discomfort) to make our flight at 6:00 AM or something of the sort, but first we had to return our epic SUV. Anyway, Chris slept in a little longer after we left, but I don't feel jealous because we were annoying and loud in the morning. The worst part? There were bugs or something in our room so that I woke up with something like 22 bug bites that showed up slowly over the course of the next two days, making me (terrified, disgusted) scared that I had gotten fleas or bed bugs. It turns out maybe I just respond slowly to mosquitos. Either way, I felt them biting me all night so that was miserable. Ugh. Despite that, the trip was a success and I don't really have any complaints.
So, here is a (sad) cheers, I suppose, to making it back to Ithaca only to start a very busy week. Sigh. Florida, I miss you already!
