3/17/08 (Monday) - Butler Island. Camping is beneath mature cedars, live oaks and palms near huge shell middens left by early Native Americans. The coontie palm, a protected species, is present, but beware of poison ivy.
The story today would be tide and wind. We were ready to go fairly early, but couldn’t get out of Sink Creek. It was low tide and there was no passageway through to the Gulf. We waited and watched as the tide began to build, but the direction and strength of the wind was holding the incoming tide off shore. At about 10:45, we decided to give it a try. By moving carefully (and getting stuck frequently), we were able to make our way out to the Gulf.
The wind was blowing at a steady 12 to 15 mph, and gusting higher. It was predicted to be out of the NW, which would have given us a push. Instead it was out of the SW, right on our noses. We paddled for ninety minutes, then took a break at Stewart Point for water and a snack. Stewart Point would be out last landfall for over six miles on open water. This was beginning to feel routine, but, because of the wind, it was also a grind. We worked hard to eek out three miles per hour. The wind again felt relentless. We made one brief stop on the water to rest and hydrate. Then it was off again. Stopping in this kind of wind only sets you back. It’s ground you’ll have to paddle twice. To pass the time, I counted strokes and estimated totals in my head, fifty strokes to the minute, 750 to the quarter hour, 3,000 to the hour, about 1,000 to the mile, and so on, stroke after stroke.
Eventually our off shore route brought us closer to shore as the land rounded out to meet us. We made a short landfall at Horseshoe Beach, where we replenished our water supply and dumped our trash. The area we visited is an RV camping area right on the Gulf, mainly set up for fishermen. Each site is not only set up to accommodate an RV, it also has a covered pavilion and a place to park a boat and trailer.
Back on the water, we have another 2.5 miles of paddling to reach Butler Island. The approach to the Butler Island campsite looks very civilized, with many buildings seen on the shore. However, in the last half-mile, the shore swings sharply to the east and signs of civilization disappear. All we see is wilderness. We approach around and through low grassy islands in very shallow water. Will we have a problem getting out again in the morning? Could be.
The site looks southeast over a vast salt marsh. It is pleasant and open as the promotional information suggests. However, today the wind is blowing very hard through the site. From this direction there is very little cover from it. The blessing is that there should be no problem with bugs tonight!
John and I set our tents toward the rear of the cleared camping area, as much out of the wind as we can get. I manage to set up my new tent properly so that I can leave the vestibules to the interior doors (one on each side) open without catching and channeling the strong wind through the tent. I notice poison ivy around one of the doors. I am not particularly affected by poison ivy. Even so, I switch from my shorts to long pants and socks, and make a mental note to use the other door and avoid this one.
There is a pair of discarded plastic chairs on the site. I set them up facing the salt marsh, and put my Crazy Creek chair in one of them. John and I took a short walk west, then east along the short beaches at each side of the site. Then I explored through the woods at the back of the site, where I found dead calm over more salt marsh. These salt marshes have a particular beauty that grows on you over time. They are vast, wild and essentially uninhabitable, except by the thousands of birds and reptiles who dwell there.
Back in by improvised easy chair, I enjoy a hearty dinner. It’s such a treat to sit upright in a chair for a meal, even though I have greatly appreciated the luxury of the Crazy Creek chair on the ground for all of these many days. The sunset is beautiful through the trees behind us. Again, I walk to the back of the island and watch the sun drop into the sea beyond the marsh. I stay until the mosquitoes drive me back.
Soon the setting sun and the wind begin to chill us. After clean up, we all head for our tents. Out of the wind, the air is warm and pleasant. For the first time, I am able to leave my vestibule door open. The wind, the moon shining through the trees, the waves against the shore and the night sounds of crickets sing me to sleep.
