Editor: Deborah Green
Associate Editor: Deede Sharpe - Mailing: John Parker/Deede Sharpe/Barbara Howell
This Issue with Pictures and Columns (requires Acrobat Reader)
By Jim Lee, FOWR President
Those of us who visit rivers, springs and lakes can see the drop in water levels. Unfortunately the majority of the 1.5 million residents of the greater Orlando area are still oblivious to the seriousness of our current drought (despite wide media coverage). In the year 2000, total rainfall for Orlando was only 28.78 inches, 19.39 inches below normal. Sanford’s total rainfall was 30.45 inches, 18.44 inches below normal. Despite 3 inches of rain in Sanford on March 19, winter and the rest of spring have been dry, and summer rains are unlikely to begin before May. On January 10, the St. Johns River Water Management District Governing Board mandated 2-day a week watering restrictions in seven central Florida counties, including Lake, Orange, and Seminole. What signs of drought can we document in the Wekiva River Basin? Is there a measurable decline in spring and river flow? If so, how much can be attributed to natural causes (several years of record low rainfall) and how much to increased pumpage of groundwater for an increasing population?
Discharge from Wekiwa Springs was measured 60 times between 1932 and 1975 by US Geological Survey (USGS). Wekiwa Springs responds to rainfall with relatively small increases in discharge, according to spring flow data. Between l932 and l975, the average discharge from the main spring was 47.95 million gallons per day (74.2 cubic feet per second or cfs). Spring flow measurements were as high as 59.46 million gallons per day (92 cfs) on October 17, 1960 (possibly correlated with rainfall from Hurricane Donna which hit the Tampa Bay area on September 4, 1960). The lowest recorded spring flow during l932-1975 was 40.07 million gallons per day (62 cfs) on April 27, 1956. Spring flow is measured every two months by USGS. On April 3, 2001 discharge was 34.8 mgd (55 cfs) million gallons per day, down 30% from the l932-1975 average. The St. Johns River Water Management District, in its December 2000 Spring Discharge Report (http://sjr.state.fl.us/technical/rm/hds/report/index.html), presents graphs of spring flow. An examination of these graphs shows steepest decline in flow in Sanlando, Palm, and Starbuck, which feed the Little Wekiva River.
In addition to measuring outflow from springs, USGS takes stream flow measurements, including 3 stations on the Wekiva River, 2 on the Little Wekiva River, and 1 on Blackwater Creek. Of these 6 stations, 5 began collecting data in l995. However, the gauging station on the Wekiva River near Sanford on SR 46 has been collecting data since 1931, at 4.96 ft above mean sea level (Each station has a fixed elevation above mean sea level as a reference point). The long term median flow recorded at this station is 246 cubic feet per second (cfs). The flow on January 2, 2001 was 161 cfs, down 35% from the 44-year average. For other stream locations, current flows, and related data see the USGS website (http://water data.usgs.gov).
Minimum flows and levels
The District is charged with ensuring enough water is
available to meet anticipated demands, “while helping to protect water
resources from serious harm,” and has established a monitoring plan to
determine the “natural pulse” on flowing surface water bodies and
groundwater. In l998 the District determined minimum flows and levels (MFLs) for
specific streams within the Wekiva River Basin, including the Wekiva River.
According to Chapter 40C-8.11, Florida Administrative Code, minimum flows and
levels are to be used as a basis for reviewing proposed surface water management
and storage systems, stormwater management systems, and for imposing limitations
on withdrawal of groundwater and surface water. They are also to be used to
determine the need for watering restrictions.
Several categories of minimum flows and levels have been
established.
Minimum Infrequent Flow means an acutely low surface
water level or flow which may occur during periods of extreme drought below
which there will be a significant negative impact to the biota of the surface
water and associated wetlands. The Minimum Infrequent Low Flow standard set for
the Wekiva River at the SR 46 Bridge is 120 cubic feet per second (cfs),
measured at 6.1 feet above mean sea level.
Minimum Frequent Low Flow refers to a chronically low level of surface water or flow that generally occurs only during periods of reduced rainfall. This level has been set for the Wekiva River at 7.2 feet elevation above mean sea level at the SR 46 Bridge at 200 cfs. Flow for the Wekiva River near Sanford is currently at 161 cubic feet per second (cfs). This puts us at the Minimum Frequent Low Flow level.
Minimum Average refers to the flow necessary over
along period to maintain the integrity of hydric (wet) soils and wetland plant
communities, and for the Wekiva River has been set at 240 cfs, at 7.6 feet above mean sea level. Minimum Infrequent
High refers to an acutely high
surface water flow after periods of high rainfall, that allows for inundation of
the floodplain to maintain biota and the exchange of nutrients and detrital
material. This level is set for the Wekiva River at the SR 46 Bridge at 880 cfs
at an elevation of 9.0 feet. Historic
stream-flow data from the USGS website shows that the most extreme flooding at
this gauging station was on September 17, 1945 with 1365 million gallons per day
flowing by (2060 cfs). On November 19,1994 flow was 1690 cfs.
The amount of groundwater discharging from Wekiwa Springs
flowing down the stream system is clearly decreasing, due to drought conditions.
How much of the decrease in discharge may be due to withdrawal for irrigation
and household water use is more difficult to pinpoint. Population data (from the
East Central Florida Regional Planning Council) shows population increases
between l950 and 2000 of 636% for Orange County, 1217% for Seminole County, and
461% for Lake County. Now 1.35 million residents live within these three
counties. The most drastic change in population was a 114% increase in Seminole
County from l970-l980. Subdivision developments around Wekiwa Springs State Park
exploded at that time. We all need to become more aware of what we are doing to
our limited natural resource pure water. The state estimates average water use per person day at 150
to 200 gallons. Washing a car without a hose shut-off device can take 150
gallons of water alone. The District is taking steps to educate the public on
water conservation measures and water reuse programs. The 2-day a week watering
restrictions will continue as long as needed. Governing Board Chairman Bill Kerr
has stated, “By reducing water consumption, we hope to avoid problems with dry
wells, degraded water quality and the formation of sink holes.”
Central Florida attracts people because of the natural resources we have now. Let us not wait to see this valuable resource evaporate in front of us. You make a difference. Act now to conserve water for future generations to come.
By Deborah Green, Currents Editor
Drought is putting a strain on life, both plants and
animals, in the Wekiva Basin, and on park managers who work to maintain this
life. Wekiva Basin GEOPark manager John Fillyaw reports that the park received a
little over 31 inches total rainfall in 2000, down by almost half from normal.
Duff fires are more likely to occur under these dry conditions. The burn program
is a major part of the park’s management of biological resources but has had
to be sharply curtailed this year, since fires can overstress trees which are
already stressed from the drought. In prescribed burning, swamps are frequently
used as natural fire breaks, but this year, there is no water in the swamps to
stop a fire, according to Fillyaw.
Within Wekiwa Springs State Park on its southwestern border
is Lake Prevatt, a shallow lake that historically goes through major water level
fluctuations. Water flows through an unnamed creek into the northwest corner of
Lake Prevatt. To the west from where the water flows, buildup of houses have
been extensive. Impervious surfaces mean less recharge and more runoff. Lake
Prevatt reportedly fills and dries now with greater extremes than before the
buildup of the subdivisions. Willows, buttonbush, sea myrtle (saltbush), and dog
fennel have encroached along the edge of what was once the lake.
In late l998, Lake Prevatt dried up completely for the
first time in 6 or 7 years. In the cracked mud, at the very center of the former
lake, were skeletons of 2-foot gar. In succeeding days, these skeletons were
covered by grass. Although the lake partially filled again after that, how long
before the ecosystem will allow growth of gar that size? In fall 2000, many
wading birds and a small flock of blue-winged teal fed in the puddles that
remained after summer rains. But by mid January 2001, there was again no water
in the lake. A dehydrated soft-shell turtle had no place to go.
Animals like deer, and presumably bear as well, normally drink from Lake Prevatt. The place where I had previously found the most bear scat in the Wekiva Basin GEOPark was close to what was once the lake. Fortunately, Wekiwa Springs continues to flow, and animals can drink from the river, but some, like my soft-shell turtle, cannot make the long trek. It has been noted that more encounters between Florida black bears and humans have occurred during this drought, apparently because food is scarcer and the bears move around more. Acorns, which are a major food source, are not produced well in years of drought.
In early summer 2000, a spectacular sinkhole, over 60 feet deep, appeared within the park. The sinkhole, that still remains with police tape around it and has sides so neatly sheared that they look almost mechanically cut. Distinct layers of sand and hardpan are visible, and at the bottom is a mucky little pool. Long taproots of uprooted trees are exposed. In addition to the sinkhole in the park, other so-called “collapse sinkholes” have occurred in the subdivisions adjoining the park.
Park neighbors use large quantities of water in lawn irrigation. Observance of the current watering restrictions may help. All new landscaping should feature water-wise plants. Information on water conservation practices is available on the District website at http://sjr.state.fl.us
By Steve Phelan, FOWR Board member
A typical late summer Sunday at Kelly Park. We get there early before they close the gates. Walking down to the swimming area, Jobie spots a big ole turtle in the eel grass at the head of the supervised pool. We watch its striped head mosey around in the bottom silt. Though fifty folks are swimming here and there, the water is still as clear as the sky it reflects blue. We walk along the island where tubers come down from the spring head and cross the bridge, setting our blanket and towels in the shade on the far side.
D.J. (my ten-year-old granddaughter) and i jump right in,
using goggles and a snorkel to find the turtle again, happy to become a part of
his element. We cross over and investigate the ten-foot deep vent in the middle
of the pond, then on to the algae and eel grass built-up along the wall. Some
hefty bass are cruising around over there.
It surprises me that the crowds have not yet driven out these high
rollers on the aquatic food chain. Don't they know by experience the Sunday
summer counts at Rock Springs?
The key reason D.J. chose Kelly Park for her family's visit to Orlando was to hunt for shark's teeth. Every year, thousands of children (and some adults) get a special thrill out of sifting through the rocky calciforms for remnants of the ancient sea creatures. What causes this thrill? Do our calcium atoms rise up in every synapse, muscle, and bone to sing the song of the sea, a chorus of ecology with bass and turtle and mussel? The teeth of the shark, in a live specimen, would prompt great fear, but trickling out of a boiling sulfur soup in one of the many small outlets at Kelly Park, that single anvil of onyx is somehow enchanting. To find one is to enter the dragon's cave and make off with a golden goblet.
Later, we stand together in a small sulfur pool. The water is up to the tops of my calves and my toes are wiggling among tiny stones, not all smooth. "Do you feel things moving under your feet?" i ask D. J. "Naw," she says, thinking i am trying to scare her. But i do feel things moving under my arches and toes.
We go next to the big cave and the iron bars the rangers have erected to keep divers from underground death. The fun here is to belly down over all the large limestone rocks amid the black rubber donuts full of happy floaters. Why does splashing water make us so joyful? The current is strong and if you go head first, it’s a challenge to your body-navigation skills. In spite of the several scrapes i get (and will feel days later), the trip down stream is spectacular, watching the churning of human bodies and sea stones.
In Beowulf, the Anglo-Saxon words for all the wierd creatures in Grendel's mere come to mind: sea-deer and worms, and my favorite, the simple term undern, the underworld critters. We have this very day become aquatic mammals and reptiles slithering noisily down over the crevices, the ooze of wildness in the slime of creation, a fully Florida scene replete with every size and color of amphibian monster.
By the time we return to our blanket and open the cooler for drinks and snacks, the main swimming area is at full blast, five lifeguards watching five hundred people sloshing up and down the acre of pond and around the bend. Every three minutes a whistle and a mega-voice try to stop tubers from hanging onto the bridge before they enter the main pool. They pass in front of us along a large bed of spadderdock where we have been watching a spring-green chameleon. D. J. goes back in the water and i am catching up with my son's life when the nearest guard's whistle sounds and people are being told in no uncertain terms to get out of the water.
The other guards soon follow suit and suddenly we realize that something strange is happening. On the drive out this morning, I had been talking about the closing of Blue Spring on the St. John's to swimmers because they were finding harmful bacteria in the surface waters. So i am imagining that perhaps swimming is about to be suspended here, when Jobie spots the problem, a gator tooling down along the water at the edge of our spadderdock. Just a three footer, maybe bigger, taking his good ole time, whirling and girling like Esther Williams in aquatic ballet..
Gradually the crowd gets the message no lifeguard has
mentioned. This is a first in my lifetime of spring-going: a gator taking the
whole pool to himself and pretty much stopping traffic. The excitement in the
crowd rises to a pitch, as though Elvis himself has strolled in our midst.
Everyone points and calls to others to watch.
After about a half hour of tracking the critter down stream
past the swimming area, they place one guard at the end of the main pool, in the
water, and tell the onlookers they can return to swim as long as they don't go
past the last guard. D. J. and i go right in, but the crowd has already
dissipated quite a bit and in general isn't too sure about getting cold all over
again.
We take for granted that most wildlife recedes from the human party, but this fellow gives my settled mind pause. Did he, like the turtle, just not care or was he caught hunting in the swampy patch of weeds beyond the first bridge when the crowd arrived? A ten-foot gator walking down a sidewalk in Seminole County does not surprise me nor turn my gator notions upside down, not like this bold creature exploring the clear spring run on Sunday morning.
In my comfort-seeking mind, gators are supposed to recede to the swamp and the muck, their proper element. They don't fly upstream looking for shark's teeth, or little girls in goggles. But in Wekiva, you always have to learn to think again.
By Eleanor Fisher,
FOWR Board member (from Orlando Sentinel reviews)
“Millions have lived without love. No one has lived without water,” writes Marq de Villiers in his new book Water: The fate of our most precious. “The trouble with water is they’re not making any more of it…People, however, they’re making more of-many more…too many people, too little water, waterin the wrong places and in the wrong amounts. The human population is burgeoning but water demand is increasing twice as fast.” For 30 years, De Villiers has “collected” rivers and dams and this book is a firsthand report of the world’s water supply. Hardcover - 288 pages (July 7, 2000) Houghton Mifflin Co; ISBN: 0618030093 ;
Life’s
Matrix: A Biography of Water. by Philip Ball. He says of the 1.4 billion
cubic kilometers of water on earth, 97% is sea water too salty to drink or use
for agriculture. Two-thirds of the remaining is locked in polar ice and
glaciers. Attempts to control or conserve water seem to lead to greater evil.
Dams destroy an ecosystem, for example. Ismail Serageldin of the World Bank::
“The wars of the 21st century will be fought over water.”
Hardcover - 400 pages (June 2000) Farrar Straus & Giroux; ISBN: 0374186286
The Secret Knowledge of Water: Discovering the Essence of the American Desert by Craig Chiles (Sasquatch Books) describes tracking and mapping water holes, springs, trapped basins and lakes in the desert. Child’s books is specialized and quirky at times, but he captures the romance of water—its allure and ephemeral spirit.” Hardcover - 304 pages (March 2000) Sasquatch Books; ISBN: 1570611599.
By Richard Poole, Wekiva Wilderness Trust Board member
"We want shaven carpets of grass, but what nonsense it is to
shave grass as often as foolish men shave their faces! Who would not rather see
the waving grass with countless flowers than a close surface without a blossom?
Think of the labor wasted in this ridiculous work of cutting the heads of
flowers and grass." William Robinson 1894.
If Mr. Robinson had been around today, he would have added:
"What a waste of water." With water restrictions in
effect in Central Florida why is so much water wasted on the patron saint of
homeowners, Saint Augustine? Grass, that is.
Have you guessed what is that dirty four lettered word is? L
- A - W - N. Lawn. What is the first thing most of you see when you step out of
your door? Boring, monotonous, mundane, tedious grass. Over eighty percent of 30
plus million acres that comprise the landscape around single family homes is
that - ugh – dirty four lettered word - LAWN. People who cared for their lawns
spent over 7.5 billion dollars in 1992.
Why should our homes be circumscribed by a FOREIGN plant that
requires constant watering, mowing, fertilizing to meet conventional standards?
The grasses seen in yards today are NOT American. Bermuda grass - Africa, fescue
- European, Kentucky blue grass - France, Bahia - South America, Saint Augustine
– the tropics. These grasses do not thrive without constant care. Why are
homogenization and monotony called aesthetically pleasing? Why should we follow
the ritual of lawn mowing that calls for consensus and conformity?
"The lawn is one of the most interesting sociological and
psychological phenomena of our times. It is a sort of living fossil having
evolved in western European culture. Lawns are kept alive only by an exorbitant
amount of nursing and babying, otherwise they would disappear, to be as extinct
as the dodo." Warren Kenfield of more recent times.
What are some of the reasons for lawns? Because it was easier for
the ancestors of the savannah of east Africa to more easily see the lion?
Because we needed grass around the castle for protection against the Bad Baron?
Maybe just prestige, evidence we are capable of CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION.
What are the reasons NOT to have a lawn:
Eliminate use of herbicides, pesticides - POISONS. Seventy million
pounds of pesticides are used annually, as much as five to nine pounds per acre.
Conserve fuel, and our ears. We won’t have to listen to blowers, trimmers,
mowers. Water expense. Ask your local community leaders how much is spent
watering the medians and other landscape areas.
Lawns are a symptom of our skewed relationship to the land. Lawns
teach us that, with the help of poisons and technology, we can bend nature to
our will. Proving we are the masters. Are you the master or the slave? Are YOU
the master of your garden, or the slave to your lawn? Are you a slave to
tractors, mowers, weed whackers, blowers, edgers, trimmers, hoses, the monthly
check to the yard maintenance man? Or are you the master of a garden full of
beauty, charm, variety, life?
No matter how beautiful any work of nature is, people are possessed
with a desire to ‘improve’ it. They must ‘clean up a little,’ they must
add or take away, change or absolutely destroy the finest piece of landscape it
has taken nature ages to produce. The desire to get hold of an axe and chop down
or mutilate trees seems to be second nature to all mankind. We destroy the
lovely hammock in order to plant rows of Crepe Myrtle and Chinese hibiscus.
But the PIONEERING SPIRIT, WHILE DEAD IN THE AVERAGE AMERICAN
HOUSEHOLD IS EMERGING, ALIVE AND WELL. Many Americans are awakening from this
coma of landscape tedium and reclaiming their yards - front and back. People are
beginning a true AMERICAN, not European, tradition by creating unique
personalized expressions, by restoring plants that existed on the site before
the onslaught of chain saws and bulldozers.
A natural landscape offers considerable diversity for some of the
most beloved birds and butterflies in our landscape. You do not have to mow it
or prune it. Demands for fertilizer and water are nil. In return for so little
work you gain much, concerts of bird songs and the knowledge that you have
helped repair the fabric of life where you live.