Planting Seeds
(Our Adventure Through Big Cypress National Preserve and the Everglades)

By Patti Powers
(as first published by Airboating Magazine May/June 2018 issue)


Yaya, why did you bring me here?” My grandson, John Roy, JR for short, was clearly annoyed with me as we walked across the boardwalk at Jiggs Landing, a fishing camp and park near our home in Manatee County, on the west coast of Florida. “I brought you here so that I could share the things that I love with you; the earth, the outdoors and nature.” Satisfied with my response, he perked up, regained my hand and we walked quietly back to the truck.
My love of the outdoors started at an early age and was nurtured in high school by one of my science teachers. Motivated now by this sweet little boy, I decided it was time to do what grandparents do best; plant seeds for the future. Instead of another toy truck for Christmas, our gift to JR was going to be a learning adventure. What better place to have an adventure than Big Cypress National Preserve and the Everglades!
The trip from home to the campground was arduous, due in part to the high winds pushing the Jeep from side to side, the hasty drivers, and the conversation with my four-year old passenger which was a string of the repetitive question, “Why?” As we passed the tiny post office in Ochopee, I relaxed knowing that relief was only a few miles ahead.
We arrived around noon at Trail Lakes Campground, headquarters of the Skunk Ape Research Center, in Big Cypress. Welcomed as usual by the Shealy family, we settled into our site, fed and watered our dog, Buddy, and unhooked the airboat. Marked by a giant statute of the mythical Skunk Ape, Trail Lakes Campground is hard to miss. Along with RV sites, tent sites and small cabins, if you want to experience the outside on the inside, screened chickees are available. Trail Lakes has been our favorite place to stay when in the area.
After a short rest, we got back into the Jeep and headed east on U.S. 41 (Tamiami Trail) to the Oasis Visitor’s Center in Big Cypress Preserve. The narrow two-lane road had not changed much over the years. Anhingas, wings spread out to dry perched on the top of tall cypress keep watch over the travelers. The rocky canal bank seemed comfy to the numerous alligators taking in the sun.
We arrived at the Center to find it crowded with visitors. JR was eager to see everything. His appetite for knowledge surprised me when he asked me to read each of the informational signs posted along the boardwalk. With water levels returning to normal after Florida’s hurricane season and encounter with Hurricane Irma, alligators lined the banks of the canal below the walk, displaying themselves to the awe-struck tourists. The clear canal waters below the walk were teeming with fish. We watched as a slow-moving gator swam across the canal to snatch up a bite.
As dusk was not too far off we decided to head back to camp. On the way back, we stopped at Kirby S. Starter Park. We had passed the Park many times but had no idea that a one-mile round trip boardwalk through a magnificent cypress strand was just beyond its parking lot. We encouraged JR to walk quietly so that we could enjoy the surroundings and possibly see some wildlife. But that was just too much to ask. Ready to investigate, he was unable to control his enthusiasm and he set out ahead of us. Cypress trees in all sizes and in various stages of color surrounded the boardwalk. We became part of the strand as we walked further into the forest-like setting. Mosquitoes kept us from completing the walk and we decided to come back another day.
Back at camp we applied generous amounts of repellent so that we could stay outside and watch the gorgeous glades sunset. We were not disappointed. Kicking rocks down the gravel road to where the campground’s boundary meshes with wet prairie, JR and I shared a rare and quiet moment as the sky came alive with color behind the tall pines.
The following day the winds kicked up again. With our airboat Instigator in tow, we were back on the Trail traveling east toward the Miami-Dade County line. We met up with the Noble families at Tippy’s Outpost, launched the boats and headed out into Francis S. Taylor Conservation Area 3A. The ramp here had been closed for several weeks prior to and following Hurricane Irma. Not long after Irma inundated the area with rain, we passed Tippy’s and found the water covering the parking area.
Surrounded by the largeness of the sky and marsh, one complementing the other, the birds seemed to disappear into their surroundings. Sweeping views of the river of grass were intermittently interrupted by communities of large cypress domes. Stopping every so often to address a fuel problem on one of the boats, the ride to the camp was uneventful.
The wind beat the orange flag back and forth until the airboat came to a rest at the old dock at the Sarasota Camp. The camp has existed since at least the 1970s when it was called the Tin Camp. According to my husband Bob, who was a member of the Tin Camp in the 1970s, the camp consisted of a small shelter and was used primarily as a hunting camp.
Today, the camp has a comfortable cabin with bunk beds, a functional kitchen and a bathroom. The heart of the camp is the screened front porch which runs the length of the cabin. Here, friends share meals and tales of their airboating adventures in the glades. The camp’s most notable feature is the signature on the wall of Troy Landry of the History Channel’s program, “Swamp People.” While filming for a show in Florida, Troy joined our friend, Rick Noble, for an airboat ride in the glades.
The screen door opened and then shut. As we finished our lunch, JR and Rick’s grandson, Brody, ran outside to scour around in the dirt for beads. We cleaned up, loaded the boats, and headed out to ride. A few minutes from the Sarasota Camp, and across from another well-known camp, the Hilton, is a small cypress island. On a prior trip to the area, I photographed airboaters resting on one end while on the other end memorials erected in remembrance of past airboaters stood. It seemed fitting to call the photograph “Resting Place.”
There are many camps throughout this area. Some are rather elaborate and appear to be secure, keeping unwanted visitors away. Other camps are open providing shelter to those in need and in return, they ask only that their property be respected.
Over the next few days, we explored side roads off the Trail. Armed with a pair of binoculars, JR became adept at spotting birds and alligators. Our conversations, though mostly inconsequential, touched on the intra-dependence of the plant and animal life in the swamp and the importance of protecting the environment for future generations. JR picked up a feather and held it up to the light. I watched as he ran his fingers up and down, sensing its softness. Then, much to my surprise, he carefully placed the feather back on the ground and walked away. The seeds had been planted.
The old twisted wood of the mature cypress spreads across the ground. From its water-stained trunk, roots protrude downward in the limestone bedrock. Nearby, new growth springs to life from seeds carelessly dropped on the swamp floor. Small feeders meander around in the wet earth seeking nourishment and support. The cypress communities will continue to flourish, one seed at a time.