Currents, Newsletter of the Friends of the 
Wekiva River

Fall 1996


Editors: Bill Belleville and John Parker

Contents


Following the Little Wekiva
is a Real Eye Opener

by Connie Kira

In early September, I joined other FOWR board members to trace the course of the Little Wekiva to see some of its problems firsthand. I had been briefed about what to expect, but no one can fully prepare you to witness man's destruction of a river.

We began our journey in Seminole County at Merrill Park, which we reached by walking down a shady path. At first, it seemed like there were no problems. However, other members quickly pointed out to me the majestic trees on the banks had most of their root masses exposed due to erosion. Time and the flowing of the river will soon end their majesty. It was easier for me to understand the flooding problems in The Springs when I saw the extent of the erosion along these peaceful river banks.

As we continued upstream, I stood with my back to SR 436 and saw two gigantic pipes used when the level of water in Crane's Roost must be lowered by discharging it into the Little Wekiva. Although the river was still winding and picturesque upstream, the character of the river on the north side of SR 436 was already changing.

The next stop was the Oranole Bridge at Lake Lotus. Here, it was easy to see the path stormwater takes as it carries sand into the river from the unpaved roadway. As I stood on the bridge, I was shocked to see clumps of soapsuds floating downstream.

One of the most chilling sites was the Lockhart area where a large pipe carries the river totally underground around Riverside Acres.

Farther upstream, the river goes through the Rosemont section, an area of manicured golf courses and upscale condos and apartments fronting Lake Orlando. Here, the river has been reduced to a channel of water spilling over a weir. There is no resemblance to the wild-looking, lush river I saw in Seminole County.

The worst moment of the trip for me was when we pulled into the parking lot for the Orange County Library Branch on Edgewater Drive. I have spent many lunch hours reading here.

Imagine my shock and disgust when I realized the drainage ditch behind the library was actually the Little Wekiva River!

I hope you have the chance to see some of these sites for yourself. For me, this tour was graphic evidence that, to protect the Big Wekiva, we must do what we can for the Little Wekiva.


The "Mystery" of Alligator Eyes

You're on the river, well after dark, carefully negotiating oxbow turns by the light of the moon. Someone in your party turns on a bright flashlight, moving its beam slowly along the shore. And, suddenly, there they are, glowing like bright orange marbles at the water's edge.

They are gator eyes, reflecting the light back to you. As they do, the river reveals all the well-camouflaged reptiles you completely missed in the light of day. This vicarious "gator hunting" is part of the fun of night canoe trips on the Wekiva. If you're a careful paddler, you can approach the smaller gators from a few yards and watch them hanging there in the clear water.

Gator hunting by flashlight raises an interesting question: Why do the glowing eyes so often appear to be stacked vertically, rather than horizonally--as one might expect from a normal set of animal eyes?

Interestingly, the "verticle" eyes are seen only when the gator's head is sideways, revealing only one real eye to your light. It is that eye that reflects the light just below it onto the water. Hence, the lower of the two verticle "eyes" is in fact not an eye at all--but the reflection of one.


Thinking About Kayaking?

by Bill Belleville

I stuck my kayak into the back of my jeep the other day and headed for the River. I live only ten minutes away from its banks, so when the whim to be on the water strikes, the gratification is almost immediate. At Katie's Landing, I pulled up to the edge of the water and within minutes, off-loaded the kayak right there at its edge. It is midweek, early fall, not yet dark but past the time when rental canoes are due to be returned. There is a man and his young son fishing at the bulkhead nearby, and a few campers wandering about. Otherwise, all is quite--the perfect time to launch a craft that, by its very nature, is inherently quiet.

Kayaks are configured in a variety of shapes and sizes nowadays, meant to do much more than run frothing whitewater. Unlike the narrow, extremely sensitive cigar-shaped fast-water boats, mine is stable and, with its padded seat and stirrups to brace my feet, actually quite comfortable. At nine-feet in length and 40 pounds, it is also highly manageable and easy to load. Unlike my older, much heavier 17-foot fiberglass canoe, it doesn't require an act of faith to hoist it up atop the car or truck. As a result, it gets used much more, gets me in it and on the water much more--which is the whole idea.

In the six months I've been its proud owner, I've had my kayak on the Wekiva, as well as on creeks and river tributaries of the St. Johns--like the St. Francis Dead River, Tocoi Creek, and the Oklawaha. On calm days, I've put it in on the broad Misquito Lagoon of the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, paddling out to mangrove island rookeries and for miles along the undeveloped shore. This evening, I am underway in the Wekiva once more, pushing upstream against the strong current that has been re-channeled and funneled into odd places by the ever-growing bars of sediment. Inside the kayak, I am a good couple heads deeper than I usually am in a canoe--down so far, in fact, that my entire perspective of the river changes. It is the difference between looking down to talk to a small child, and squatting so you are eye-level with them. The result is an experience that seems more intimate, somehow more connected.

Although it tracks well enough to keep me on course, my river kayak is far more suited for shorter trips and overnights than marathon paddles--like, say, the 120-mile canoe trip I once made through the Everglades. For trips like that, I would have selected a longer version that tracks even better, adding another couple hundred dollars to the bill. But, I am happy with my flat water kayak. This evening, I paddle up river, sneaking through the bulrushes and cattails, taking the backwater routes, past the sulfur spring at the tree island with the rope swing, almost to the bridge. From there, I turn and drift back with the swift current, mainly using my double-bladed paddle to guide, rather than to push or pull me along. The canopy of shoreline cypress is now crisply backlit by the setting sun, and limpkins are squawking at me from somewhere at the edge of the forest. Drifting as unobtrusively as a large leaf on a spring rill, I come to within feet of a great blue heron, who is hunting in the shallows at mid-river. In other trips, I have come this close to red-bellied turtles and gators, ibis and snowy egrets, hunkered down here close to the waterÑmore like a piece of natural flotsam than anything human.

As you might imagine, the quiet kayaks are excellent vehicles for nature photography--as well as for fishing. If you think kayaking might be for you, try one of the rental versions at Katie's, or stop by Travel Country Outdoors on SR 436 in Altamonte Springs. There, you can sign up to test-run a number of different models on Lake Virginia in Winter Park by Dinky Dock every Saturday morning at no obligation.

If you've ever been in a canoe, you'll find the mechanics of kayaking aren't difficult to master. You do, of course, use a single, double-bladed paddle. And when you stroke with it, you use a kayak variation of a sweep stroke--planting the paddle in the water and moving it alongside to the gunwale, alternating sides with each stroke. Perhaps the main difference in technique is kayak strokes are much quicker and shorter in duration, since longer strokes tend to actually make you turn. Otherwise, everything else you do with a canoe paddle, you can do with a kayak paddle. Like canoeing, you can take lessons and learn a dozen or more strokes and more classic methodology--or, you can get a brief instruction from salesman, read a short how-to book, and then learn by practice. (Don't worry about fancy stuff like "Eskimo Rolls" on flat water. If you do flip, you simply drag the unsinkable kayak to the side of the river, dump the water out, and climb back in.)

Durable as well as stable, today's kayaks are usually made from Kevlar, fiberglass, and polyethylene. Kevlar is much lighter and more expensive; fiberglass is fiberglass; and polyethylene has the added advantage of a "memory"--if you dent it, you can leave in direct sunlight and it will return to its original shape. My two "Rascal" brands, made by Wilderness Systems, are polyethylene. Expect to spend from $400 to $600 on a new single model; more for one that holds two paddlers. (I choose to buy two singles, as I enjoy sharing the experience with friends.) Paddles start at $35, but I opted for one closer to $100 because it was much lighter and more aerodynamic--crucial factors when you're on the water for more than an hour or so.

Finally, if you have any questions, call me at 322-8825and I'll try to answer your questions.


Thanks for Your Thoughtfulness

by Eleanor Fisher

It is with much gratitude and appreciation that my family and I extend thanks to all who so generously contributed to the Friends of the Wekiva River in memory of my husband Russ Fisher.

Your gifts were most appropriate as the beauty and preservation of the Wekiva Basin were always dear to Russ's heart and will help continue the fight to protect the river.


Friends of the Wekiva Paddles Into Cyberspace

The FOWR now has its own website on the internet!

This means, theoretically, any of the 30-million plus users of the net worldwide can sign on to our site and learn more about us and the river.

The site, designed by board member Brandt Magic, is available to anyone who has a computer, a modem, and a connection to the internet. The exact location is: http://spotnet.com/wekiva. [There is no period at the end.] To find us, enter that "address" into your finder or location window on your web browser.

For those new to the ever-expanding world of cyberspace, a website is a rudimentary electronic magazine. In the case of our "home page", we have an introductory "page" or screen, which welcomes you to the site with our logo and a brief statement of our purpose. From here, you have a short table of contents, all of which are highlighted in color. To find out more about each item on the list, you simply put your cursor on the item and click. These are called "hypertext links."

Our contents, or hypertext links, include: Who We Are; Membership Info; Currents; Upcoming Field Trips; Events and Speakers; Picture Gallery. Since our homepage has just been established, the information in each link is rudimentary, and so far, we only have one color photo in the Gallery. But, as the site grows, we will have more information to post Also, we hope to soon have an email address to invite feedback and contributions from users of the site, as well as to encourage immediate membership applications. Finally, as we progress, we will be added to the various "web search engines" that help users find a site simply by indexing a subject, rather than the exact location name of the site. (This is much like a giant card catalogue at a library that cross-references by subject.). Potential search engines we might be referenced by include: Yahoo, Alta Vista, Magellan, and others. Once this last stage is complete, a user of the internet--whether they're in Australia or Astabula--can enter a subject description like "Florida rivers" and find our home page

The purpose of the site is to not only to make information available about the FOWR and to solicit new members, but to help educate people state-wide and worldwide to our conservation concerns, and to network with others to communicate tested solutions.


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