Some days are better than others: Dollar Bay

Town day. Logistics day. Work day.

One of Roger's cameras has jammed. That is a tough blow, since Roger is never more than two feet from a camera.

We trudge a couple of miles to the Post Office and ship off several other pounds of stuff. We are finally parting with the dry suits that were so wonderful in the north. Our boats are getting lighter and there is a little free space showing up, which we will need for the eleven days of food and water in the Everglades. The walk is long and muggy, and we carry bags each direction. We watch for but see no busses. The chore takes three hours, and Fran and Pat are unable to get a late departure from the motel so they empty the room and sit outside waiting.
Next comes the long slog carrying four boats and tonnage back down the street and across the beach to the water. It is tiring and we are grumpy. We just want to be back on the water. Too much work.

When we finally hit the water we face a head wind and choppy water.  By 5 pm we had only paddled three miles and would not reach the ten miles to the designated KOA until hours after sunset. We talk it over and need to start exploring options. We started looking for passable campsites, to bail out early. We looked at every possible clearing including some very lousy ones, until we found one that would suit our needs. We started setting up camp right at sunset and ate with bug nets after dark.

Camp was a test of our group's ability to make decisions and work through changing expectations. The plan was that we would be at a campsite with water. Pat and Roger only brought the water that they needed for the short paddle. Part of the decision then became - do we have enough water to last us if we choose to camp here without being able to replenish water? We inventoried all four boats and decided that we would collectively have enough to last through lunch the next day. Then we had to all agree that we should pull out early rather than go on. Fran, after facing a similar situation with no campsite long after dark as we approached Sarasota, decided that she wanted to stop early. Later we agreed that it was good to set up camp before dark. Our resiliency had been stretched to the limit with the earlier events of the day, and this stretch of Rookery Bay is too pretty to paddle through at night.

Did I say this campsite was buggy? We started a small campfire to deter the no-seeums, something that none of us regularly do. However that attracted the attention of a helicopter, which circled closely overhead. We quickly put out the fire and wondered if we would get a visit from a boat patrol in the night. The helicopter moved on but then came back for a second look. Are we law-breakers? Are we camped illegally? Or was the fire illegal?