Shark River Slough crossing, Nov. 9, 2008 (day one)
The put-in was at the junction of the L-67 canal and the Tamiami Trail, about 5.75 east of the Shark Valley Park entrance. This is the point where the "new" section of the Tamiami Trail east of Forty Mile Bend comes to an end, and jogs a bit south to join the original road. There is a pull-in here where you can park and unload your boat at the entrance to the levee foot path. Tell your ride, if you are being dropped off, to be very careful pulling back out onto the Trail - it's hard to see the traffic coming east around the bend.
The boat I was using for this trip is one that I built myself: a traditional Glades skiff built from the plans in the back of Glen Simmons' book, Gladesmen.The skiff was propelled with a pole that was about 12' long and was carved from a cypress sapling. At about 10:30 AM I finished loading the skiff and said goodbye to my son, and pushed off from the bank of the canal and headed south.
Once in the canal, it was just a matter of finding a open spot on the west side to break out into the Slough. I found this spot about .67 mile from the put-in at N25 45.076 W80 40.427, but you can go farther south if you want. Once out of the canal I found water to be about 4 feet high, even deeper than I expected. I came into a short section of high sawgrass that I had to push through before getting to the patches of spike rush that mix with the sawgrass along the length of the Slough. Spike rush is the shorter, round grass that is a deeper green and has golden tips. It is easy to tell apart from the sawgrass, and the skiff passes through it without much resistance, unlike sawgrass, which can get so thick that its just about impossible to get through. It doesn't take long to learn to spot the patches of spike rush from a distance, especially if you have the advantage of a poling platform to stand on, as I did. Being able to "read" the grasses of the Slough makes the pushing along much easier.
I set a southwest heading, poling the skiff through the interconnecting lanes of spike rush and avoiding sawgrass wherever possible. Water was high, ranging from 2 to 4 feet in depth. Terry had mentioned that the grass was much heavier west of Vulture Hammock, and I kept this in mind as I got closer to the hammock, which is one of the larger tree islands that you pass on your way southwest through the Slough.
At about 2:30 I reached the eastern end of Vulture Hammock. I had hoped to get a chance to get near enough to this hammock and others like it to make a landing, but it was not to be. The sawgrass grows high and thick all around the margins of the bigger tree islands in the Slough, and getting near or into them means getting out of the boat and walking in, and walking alone through unknown sawgrass bogs was not something I was comfortable with.
After a short break I headed back on my way, and soon I could see the Shark Valley observation tower on the horizon to the east. It was getting on to about 3:30 PM, and I started to think about stopping for the night. At about 4:15 I found an open area about 2.35 miles ENE of the Shark Valley tower at N25 39.921 W80 43.780, where I dropped the anchor and began setting up my "camp" for the night. Total mileage for the day was about 8.5 miles.
Setting up camp consisted of rolling out my sleeping pad and bag inside the boat, and deploying the skeeter bar that I had made for the skiff. The bar is made of aluminum tubing bent into long hoops that fit into holes drilled into the inwales, and covered with no-see-um netting that attached to the inside of the skiff with snaps. The breeze kept bugs to a minimum, and I saw no mosquitoes that night, but there were still enough flies, gnats, and other flying critters to justify setting up the bar. The skiff seat/poling platform was just inside the bar toward the bow, and this is where I cooked my dinner before settling back to enjoy the sunset, and watch a nearly full moon rise in the east.
The boat I was using for this trip is one that I built myself: a traditional Glades skiff built from the plans in the back of Glen Simmons' book, Gladesmen.The skiff was propelled with a pole that was about 12' long and was carved from a cypress sapling. At about 10:30 AM I finished loading the skiff and said goodbye to my son, and pushed off from the bank of the canal and headed south.
Once in the canal, it was just a matter of finding a open spot on the west side to break out into the Slough. I found this spot about .67 mile from the put-in at N25 45.076 W80 40.427, but you can go farther south if you want. Once out of the canal I found water to be about 4 feet high, even deeper than I expected. I came into a short section of high sawgrass that I had to push through before getting to the patches of spike rush that mix with the sawgrass along the length of the Slough. Spike rush is the shorter, round grass that is a deeper green and has golden tips. It is easy to tell apart from the sawgrass, and the skiff passes through it without much resistance, unlike sawgrass, which can get so thick that its just about impossible to get through. It doesn't take long to learn to spot the patches of spike rush from a distance, especially if you have the advantage of a poling platform to stand on, as I did. Being able to "read" the grasses of the Slough makes the pushing along much easier.
I set a southwest heading, poling the skiff through the interconnecting lanes of spike rush and avoiding sawgrass wherever possible. Water was high, ranging from 2 to 4 feet in depth. Terry had mentioned that the grass was much heavier west of Vulture Hammock, and I kept this in mind as I got closer to the hammock, which is one of the larger tree islands that you pass on your way southwest through the Slough.
At about 2:30 I reached the eastern end of Vulture Hammock. I had hoped to get a chance to get near enough to this hammock and others like it to make a landing, but it was not to be. The sawgrass grows high and thick all around the margins of the bigger tree islands in the Slough, and getting near or into them means getting out of the boat and walking in, and walking alone through unknown sawgrass bogs was not something I was comfortable with.
After a short break I headed back on my way, and soon I could see the Shark Valley observation tower on the horizon to the east. It was getting on to about 3:30 PM, and I started to think about stopping for the night. At about 4:15 I found an open area about 2.35 miles ENE of the Shark Valley tower at N25 39.921 W80 43.780, where I dropped the anchor and began setting up my "camp" for the night. Total mileage for the day was about 8.5 miles.
Setting up camp consisted of rolling out my sleeping pad and bag inside the boat, and deploying the skeeter bar that I had made for the skiff. The bar is made of aluminum tubing bent into long hoops that fit into holes drilled into the inwales, and covered with no-see-um netting that attached to the inside of the skiff with snaps. The breeze kept bugs to a minimum, and I saw no mosquitoes that night, but there were still enough flies, gnats, and other flying critters to justify setting up the bar. The skiff seat/poling platform was just inside the bar toward the bow, and this is where I cooked my dinner before settling back to enjoy the sunset, and watch a nearly full moon rise in the east.
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