Everglades National Park

Caroline Wise about to eat a half frozen still raw fish at Robbie's Marina on Islamorada, Florida

Attention: I’ve been updating blog posts where I either only posted 1 photo or maybe a couple; well, on this entry, I posted seven images, but reviewing it at the end of 2022, I felt I could easily double that number so that’s just what I did. All photos are from November 17, 2009, when the others were shot.

After breakfast of half-frozen raw fish out of the way, it was time to take on the day. Our first stop was at Robbie’s Marina on Islamorada to feed the tarpons and fend off some greedy pelicans. We had heard of these giant fish that hang out next to the boat docks waiting for tourists to happen along who are in need of spending their last few dollars on a bucket of fish to throw at other fish so they, in turn, can lose their hunting skills.

The best part of visiting this place was the “Wall of Lost Stuff You Wished You Hadn’t Dropped in the Water.” In all their corroded glory hang nearly a hundred pairs of prescription glasses, sunglasses, cell phones, digital cameras, car keys, hats, and trinkets.

Lizard in the Everglades National Park Southern Florida

Today is our last day in Florida, and instead of another trip into the water for more snorkeling, we decided we would capture that thing that we missed at the beginning of our trip and make our way north to the Everglades National Park.

Detail of tree at the Everglades National Park in southern Florida

We visited the Everglades with my mother-in-law back in 2003, but now, as then, we have too little time to adequately explore this million-and-a-half-acre national park. After a quick stop at the visitors center to best plan our four-hour adventure, we quickly ran off to Royal Palm, beginning our walk on the Gumbo Limbo Trail, where the above photo was snapped.

Alligator on the Anhinga Trail at Royal Palm in the Everglades National Park, Florida

The other trail at Royal Palm is the Anhinga Trail, where paths and boardwalks take us through wetlands, passing various birds, including the anhinga for whom the trail is named, fish, buzzards, and, of course – the mighty alligator. Oh, sure, I would like to tell you how I tracked this fierce beast while on a safari through the wilds of the Everglades, but the truth is far more mundane. Right next to the trail, this gator sat in the grasses with most visitors just passing by, unaware, within ankle-biting distance. After I crouched to snap this photo, more than a couple of startled folks gave Mr. Alley Gator a wide berth.

Bird on the Anhinga Trail at Royal Palm in the Everglades National Park, Florida

This is the anhinga bird drying out.

The Little Blue Heron, one of 20 common North American birds with the greatest population declines since 1967 seen at the Everglades National Park in Florida

A Little Blue Heron, not to be confused with the Great Blue Heron. This particular heron species is among twenty bird species, seeing the greatest population declines in North America since 1967. Luck seems to follow us around when it comes to animal sightings. At the end of one of the boardwalks, we were first amazed to see a group of about eight alligators lounging in the sun when I spotted this fluorescent dark blue bird I’d never seen before, so instead of more gator photos here is the beautiful Little Blue Heron.

Alligator at the Anhinga Trail in the Everglades National Park, Florida

Either I’m that stupid to get too close, or my lens is doing part of the work.

Anhinga Trail in the Everglades National Park, Florida

The trail on this raised boardwalk is a short one, but it’s a treasure trove of life.

The Anhinga bird in the water at Anhinga Trail in the Everglades National Park, Florida

This, again, is the anhinga for whom this trail is named. Its name originates from the Brazilian Tupi language, meaning Devil Bird or Snake Bird; it is also known as the Darter or Water Turkey. If you weren’t paying attention, you’d think this swimming bird was a common cormorant. We hung out waterside, watching the anhinga surface, dive again, move through the water like…like, well like a snake. I would have gladly put my waterproof housing on my camera to grab an underwater shot of the anhinga-catching fish but a large alligator population proved a strong deterrent.

Near the Anhinga Trail in the Everglades National Park, Florida

I believe these are Longleaf pine trees.

Heron at Sisal Pond in the Everglades National Park, Florida

While I know it’s a heron, I can’t figure out its exact line.

Sisal Pond in the Everglades National Park, Florida

With time running short but not so short, we can’t afford one more moment of sightseeing we head further into the Everglades but recognize we won’t be able to go far, considering our drive back to Fort Lauderdale. A quick decision to stop at Sisal Pond and see what it has to offer was a perfect choice. We walked the length of the pond, spotting one alligator, more than a few birds, and a snakeskin that was shed in some underbrush. With clouds starting to fill the sky, it was our cue that now was the time to finish our brief visit to the Everglades and head north for our flight home.

The illuminated cities of Juarez, Mexico and El Paso, Texas as seen at night from forty-thousand feet in the air

The trek west flew us into the setting sun and the night sky. From forty-thousand feet in the air, the view past the Mississippi is most often of seemingly empty lands with an occasional small town gleaming in the darkness, but as we approached El Paso, Texas, I grabbed the camera for this shot. The bright ribbon that bisects this place is actually the border between Juarez, Mexico, and El Paso, Texas. The densely lit area at the top of the photo is Juarez. The rest of the flight was dark – outside.

Dry Tortugas Day 2

Sunrise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

It was still dark out around 5:30 when we awoke. In only a few minutes, the first blue-gray twilight would begin to illuminate the morning sky. A thick cloud cover gave doubt whether we would see the sunrise at all, but as the sky filled with a deep red and orange glow, we were glued to the dock, watching the day come into being. As the light spread across the calm, warm waters of the Gulf, an occasional fish would break the surface, leaping for something unseen by us. Mesmerized, we sat there while the world turned from darkness to beauty.

Sunrise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

An hour later and still, we sit dockside, gazing eastward at the oncoming day. The fishermen who also spent the evening on the Dry Tortugas have begun to stir and will soon be gone.

Sunrise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Fortunately for us, the cloud cover was to break up after hanging around the early part of the day to lend dramatic flair to the morning sky and reflective ocean waters. With the dawn comes the idea we could easily have spent days here on this little island paradise.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

By 9:00 a.m., the sun had pushed the clouds to the side, and it was time to get in the water. This is where we would stay until we turned to prunes or got too cold. Our first venture into the sea was in front of our now packed-up campsite on the western shore. Along the wall of the moat, there are more fish here today than yesterday. The waters are also calmer, as is the wind, so visibility is greater, too, making the first swim of the day that much better. Slowly, we float along, watching fish watching us.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Well, float along and avoid the jellyfish.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

The aptly named Needlefish.

John Wise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

What is it about this photo that is so unflattering? Is the snorkel in my mouth, the squinty eyes, or that I might be confused with a sea monster?

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Come here, Mr. Pelican, I have a little snacky for you! While we did get a photo of a pelican entering the water, it was a bit too abstract and blurry to share, so instead, I present you this guy looking at the strange thing emerging from the depths to take its photo.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Cold and pruney, it was time to warm up with a walk in the sun atop Fort Jefferson for one more view of the azure waters surrounding us.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

What an incredibly small island this really is! We know it’s only 16 acres, but if you look at a satellite image, you’ll better appreciate just how small. You’ll also see why the taller Loggerhead Lighthouse was built, as the water out here is very shallow.

Owl on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Here we are 70 miles out to sea, and I would have thought it was strange to see an owl this far away from the mainland, but with crabs and maybe some fish in the shallower waters along with rodents and insects, it’s finding enough to keep it healthy. Could it possibly have a mate out here?

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

We try to ignore the time as it won’t be long before a boat arrives that will take us away. Until then, we will bask and try to imagine our eventual return when maybe we could spend three or four days and nights out here. It’s not long before we are both warm and dry, conditions that demand we return to the water.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Caroline takes charge of the camera, giving me the opportunity to stop taking photo after photo and freeing my hands to swim with only my sense of awe working. While she swims further out along the wall, looking for bigger fish to photograph, I meander, spending many a minute studying conch, urchins, and corals. The sun glimmers on the white sands of the ocean floor, and light dances, darts, and flashes on the sides of fish turning as though this were a performance for the big floating stranger looking to be dazzled with the show of nature.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Our next snorkel venture had us back on the western shore, except this time, Caroline wanted to try going as far as she could around Fort Jefferson. She made it halfway before the winds picked up again, and the choppy water towards the north side of Garden Key had her turning around. Out here on the far side of the moat, the corals are larger, the fish more abundant; we had even seen a leopard shark here earlier in the day on a walk around the moat wall. Sadly, Caroline didn’t see the shark while in the water, but she did get to swim up to a pufferfish. But that elusive pufferfish didn’t stick around for many photos, and the ones Caroline took were too blurry to share here.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

But she really made a serious effort to follow this hogfish around and so I present you with the best of the bunch. From the moat wall, we made the second trip of the day over to the old pilings towards the south of the island. These pilings were once part of a dock that had been used for loading coal over one hundred years ago, but today are a coral sanctuary and a favorite habitat for fish – pelicans too; we watched from below as pelicans dove in the water looking for a quick bite.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Gulf of Mexico in Florida

The time we traded to be on Garden Key here at the Dry Tortugas National Park was over too soon. Our memories will be tied to those blue waters and blue skies, wrapping this tiny 16-acre (6.5 hectares) island in a beauty these pictures poorly represent. For a little bit more than 24 hours, life was near perfect.

Gulf of Mexico in Florida

Wait a minute, is that the S.S. Minnow? I tried yelling over to get Gilligan’s attention but I don’t think he could hear me.

Gulf of Mexico in Florida

As the sun drew low in the sky, we would soon approach Key West. Landing, it was as though we were transported into New York City with thick crowds, cars, noise, and buildings all around us. Truth is that Key West itself is a small town with its own laid-back style, but coming from the solitude of that island, there was a moment when even this felt like a metropolis. I can only wonder how difficult it is for those who spend weeks out there to readjust to “normal” life.

Dry Tortugas

Caroline Elizabeth Wise in Key West, Florida

Disclaimer: This post is one of those that ended up being (partly) written years after the experience was had. While there were a few paragraphs posted way back then with a small number of photos, there were no other notes taken, so most of what is shared here must be extracted from the images and what memories they may have lent us.

After a comfy sleep and an early morning alarm at the Banana Bay Resort in Key West, we were quick to get ready for a speedy exit out the door for breakfast to get our day underway. Denny’s was about our only option, and lucky for us the one and only Starbucks down here in Key West opens at 6:30. For those of you who don’t know, Elizabeth is Caroline’s middle name.

Check-in is at 7:00 with Sunny Days for our Fast Cat transport out to the Dry Tortugas National Park. Don’t worry, tourists desiring a day trip to the island, the normal line-up is 8:00 while this earlier time is for campers.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key is the main attraction here in the Dry Tortugas National Park. This remote island is a mere 16 acres in size. As we approached, the fort appeared to sit right on the water.

A low wall rings this all-brick structure, building a moat along its six sides. Construction of the fort began in 1846, but with its remoteness, lack of fresh water, and frequent hurricanes, the fort was only half-finished by 1860. The buildings were turned into a prison until the mid-1870s, and later, the place served as a refueling station until it fell out of use for the most part.

While the majority of visitors were on a tour of the main building, Caroline and I set up our tent at camping site number 5 with an incredible western view of the ocean, perfect for watching the sunset.

After a slow, quiet walk around the sea wall, it was nearly lunchtime aboard the catamaran that brought us out here. Many of the seventy or so other passengers now went snorkeling while Caroline and I had the fort to ourselves.

The welcoming committee.

This is the point in my updated post where the writing jumps forward to 2022; there are more original notes below that were posted in 2009, but first, an update about our good fortune to have been here in 2009. We arrived at the Dry Tortugas a year before Instagram launched and started its march towards ruining many beautiful places on earth, and apparently, the Dry Tortugas is one of those places that has found a kind of popularity that neither Caroline nor I would enjoy today. You see, if you want to camp on this island today, you’ll be lucky to find a reservation a year out. That means that every single day of the year, every campsite is taken.

Below I write about a group site taken by fishermen while we were here; they arrived with their own boat a day before us and were out on the sea until just after we tucked into our tent, so it was like they weren’t even here. The other small group I referenced was just a few people at one of the other sites. We felt really alone out here, and I think that sense might be gone now.

If there were to be a regret, it might be that we didn’t understand how much we enjoyed kayaking and that we would have benefited from having a couple of them with us, along with another night out here so we could have paddled over to Loggerhead Key to visit the lighthouse and simply indulge in more of the solitude we experienced in such a remote place.

A nearby bird sanctuary was off-limits to visitors. When I wrote this previous sentence in 2009, I said, “…is off-limits,” which I now changed to was off-limits as the channel between Garden Key, where we are, and Bush Key across the way, which is currently connected.

What a scary place this would have been to be stationed when tropical storms or hurricanes whipped through the area 100 years ago, but today, it’s blue skies and calm ocean for as far as the eye can see.

While almost impossible to see, to the left on the horizon is the Loggerhead Lighthouse.

Storm damage is taking its toll, and while there are signs that some things are being repaired, it’s easy to get the idea that others are being allowed to continue falling into decay.

It’s obvious that a single day will never be enough to explore everything here.

By the way, this is the largest brick structure in our hemisphere and is constructed from more than 16 million bricks.

This is not a deserted island either as there are at least a few people that live here who work for the National Park Service. Had there been a way to see how the old brick rooms were being used as apartments, we would have jumped at the chance; the quiet inside of them at night must be astonishing.

This old lighthouse predates the fort and was erected here back in 1825, while construction of the fort began in 1846. To let you in on a secret, we might have been so lucky to get a tour on the low-down of this old lighthouse later in the evening but I won’t swear to that as they are not allowed, just saying.

It wasn’t long before 2:30 p.m. rolled around, and the day visitors were leaving the island. There was a small group of campers who set up near us while the group campground had a few tents already set up but the fishermen who were staying in those were out for a day of fishing.

With no one else in sight, we grabbed our snorkel gear and jumped into the warm Gulf of Mexico waters.

We had the clear waters of the Dry Tortugas all to ourselves. Over corals and past jellyfish, we floated along the perimeter wall inspecting conch, sea urchins, parrot fish, and dozens of other fish varieties.

Out of the water and over to North Swim Beach we slip into the water and are surprised, overwhelmed, and thrilled to quickly find ourselves swimming through a school of thousands of fish. The small fish would swim around us, dart to and fro as they avoided other larger fish that may have been intent on feasting on these little guys. We could have stayed here all day watching the flashes of silver glistening in the reflected light of the sun shining down on the sea. Matter of fact, this is nearly just what we did and it was almost 5:00 before we exited our underwater wonderland.

After more than two hours of snorkeling, we needed a break and thought it was a good time to prepare dinner for our sunset feast – on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As we would only be on the island one night, we had opted for simplicity in bringing our small tent, one sleeping bag that we opened and both slept on, along with one cotton blanket for keeping warm. With lows in the mid-70s (24c), I didn’t think we’d be chilly.

Our food choice was made just the night before at a local grocery after finding inspiration in a jar of Goobers PB & J – this stuff is a mix of peanut butter and jelly all in one jar; check it out here. We also bought some bananas to add to the sandwiches and to enjoy with our breakfast of Clif Bars the next morning.

The late day brought in a good cover of clouds, none of them threatening poor weather. From time to time, the sun would poke through, casting a beautiful golden light upon the calm ocean. At other times, the sun would spread distinct rays across the horizon as we sat in the sand, oohing and ahhing at how gorgeous all of this was. The view is from campsite #5.

Be careful where you walk at night as others much smaller than you might be out for a stroll too. We probably watched this little guy for a good half-hour; what an unbelievable encounter with wildlife today.

Not to forget to tell you of the stars we saw this evening, but look close, that’s the Milky Way over on the left. I’d love to share more about the night sky out here in the middle of the Gulf, but that would take another complete blog entry.

On The Water

Sunrise at the Harbor Lights Motel in Islamorada, Florida

We awake to a perfect morning on the Atlantic Ocean, having stayed at the cozy Harbor Lights Motel in Islamorada. The alarm in our GPS bleeps its quiet tone to stir us from sleep while darkness lingers outside, allowing us to be ready before the sun makes its appearance. Once outdoors, we walk a few steps to the water’s edge and await as the twilight blue-gray sky warms with orange tones, signaling the return of our star. Nearly an hour passes before we move our location for another perspective of the rising sun.

Indian Key Fill near mile marker 79 in the Florida Keys

A few miles south, with the sun only inches above the horizon, we stop on Indian Key Fill for a wide ocean view as the sun continues its ascent. The water is smooth, the wind calm, and the bright golden sun warms the two of us as we bask under the light of what will surely be a perfect day.

Caroline Wise on Indian Key Fill near mile marker 79 on the Florida Keys

A growl of the stomach says it’s time for breakfast at Mangrove Mike’s Cafe back up on Islamorada. It turned out to be a great recommendation from A1A the day before. I had the Mangrove Oscar, a play on eggs benedict, this one featuring sauteed spinach, poached eggs, grilled shrimp, and bearnaise over an English muffin. Caroline had eggs and potatoes – big deal, my breakfast was great.

Sombrero Beach on Marathon Key in southern Florida

With tummies full and eyes satisfied, it was time to treat the body. Further southward we go, this time to take the advice of the other beach the lady at the Marathon visitor center told us of, Sombrero Beach. A perfect scene of serenity and tranquility, a postcard view of what almost anyone might wish for when going for a swim. Unfortunately for me, I have to pass on getting in as I am hurting from some lower back pain that had crept up on me overnight.

Caroline Wise at Sombrero Beach on Marathon Key in southern Florida

Caroline throws on her snorkel and mask and slides into the warm water for a casual swim with the fishies.

Back in the car still moving at vacation speed, we head for Big Pine Key for an appointment we scheduled with Bill Keogh of Big Pine Kayak Adventures. Arriving early, we backtracked to grab a bite at the historic No Name Pub but found the wait too long and had to opt for a quicker solution for lunch. Luckily, we did; at a nearby off-the-main-drag plaza, we spotted a pizza place selling slices. For dessert, they have chocolate-covered key lime pie on a stick from the Key West Key Lime Pie Company.

Caroline Wise in a kayak for a back country tour led by Bill Keogh of Big Pine Kayak Adventures

I nearly had to pass on getting in the kayak for our second adventure on open water. Once again, at Big Pine Kayak, my back was struggling with excruciating spasms, and we were considering canceling or Caroline going out on her own before a nearby couple, hearing our dilemma, offered to demonstrate some back stretching exercises that might alleviate my pain. That couple was Elyse and Leonard, the other two people who were supposed to go kayaking with us. Elyse is a massage therapist when not saving other travelers from disappointment. The exercises helped and allowed us to join the tour as planned.

Big Pine Kayak Adventures in Florida

At 1:30, we left the dock with kayaks and a dog onboard our tour guide Bill Keogh’s boat as he was taking us out for a back-country tour that promised to keep us busy for the next few hours.

Big Pine Kayak Adventures in Florida

This was Caroline’s and my first open sea, close-to-shore kayaking – just yesterday was our first time ever on a kayak. We had the best time and now look forward to more of it. Floating low in the water next to the red mangroves, going noiselessly through tree tunnels, watching barracuda, an upside-down jellyfish, and simply being out here away from any crowds over clear waters was a bit of the proverbial dream come true. If you know nothing of kayaking and would like a wonderful, patient, and knowledgeable guide you cannot go wrong with Bill over at Big Pine Kayak Adventures.

Caroline Wise and John Wise near Big Pine Key in Florida

But wait, there’s more, as we weren’t done yet. We had paddled back to Bill’s boat he’d anchored, and were on our way to destination number two.

Pelicans sitting atop mangrove trees near Big Pine Key in Florida

As you can see, we were approaching sunset as Bill brought us out to a pelican rookery a couple of miles away from where we were kayaking. We quietly drift up to a small island with what appears to be hundreds of pelicans.

Near Big Pine Key in Florida

For the next half hour, we hang out along a mangrove shore, watching birds waiting for the sunset.

Caroline Wise near Big Pine Key in Florida

Not only were winged birds in my gaze, but this one was, too.

Near Big Pine Key in Florida

Seems that we, too, were being watched by these feathered giants.

Sunset in the Florida Keys

Then, as the sky started approaching the horizon, Bill brought us back to Big Pine Key at mile marker 30 so we might all get some well-deserved dinner after such an adventurous day.

The Keys

Caroline Wise standing in the Atlantic ocean off Islamorada Key in south Florida

The day is beautiful – over here on the leeward side of the Florida Keys. On the windward side, the wind is blustery, and the bay is choppy. Over here on the Atlantic side, the ocean waters are still a little murky from the tropical storm that churned the seas the previous week, but they are warm and inviting.

Islamorada Key in south Florida

The original plan was to pick up two kayaks at 8:00 this morning, but the winds changed that. Due to our inexperience regarding the wind, the behavior of the ocean, and the fact Caroline nor I had ever been on a kayak, we opted to put off kayaking and instead drove south, stopping at Long Key State Park, where an attendant invited us to check out a lake in the park to see if we’d be comfortable canoeing its waters, kayaks were unavailable due to the high winds, and canoeing wasn’t what we were interested in so we continued south to Marathon Key.

Caroline Wise standing in the Atlantic ocean off Islamorada Key in south Florida

At the visitor center, the friendly attendant told us of a nice beach off Coco Plum Drive, and off we went to Coco Plum Beach. We hadn’t picked up our snorkel gear yet, so all we could really do was walk along the shallow beach and view the wildlife.

Islamorada Key in south Florida

A few fish darted about, and a couple of stingrays sped over the sandy bottom.

Islamorada Key in south Florida

Even an incredibly poisonous Man-o-war jellyfish floated by. Then we noticed the wind was easing and decided to return north to Islamorada and check out the kayaks.

Dot at A1A Watersports hooked us up with two sit-on-top kayaks, reassured us how easy this was going to be, showed us where (and how) to put in, gave us two life jackets, and told us she’d watch from the shore and rescue us if we appeared in danger. And so it was that we, for the first time in our lives, paddled off into the deep ocean waters of the great Atlantic.

John Wise kayaking on the Atlantic Ocean in Florida

Below us, somewhere down, there was terra firma, but up here were the two of us bobbing on slivers of plastic, praying not to roll over to be consumed by Triton.

Caroline Wise kayaking on the Atlantic Ocean in Florida

Maybe you hadn’t noticed how tight my jaw was in the photo above, just as well as it wouldn’t have been flattering while Caroline here is obviously having the time of her life.

Sadly, my anxiety might have been for nothing as Dot later told us we could have stood up at any time as the water was maybe hip-deep where we were paddling. Why couldn’t she share that with me beforehand? While Caroline did fine and took to kayaking without a care, it was I who feared going Poseidon Adventure, losing orientation, and falling victim to some freak drowning accident in ankle-deep water. After an hour, I may not have felt like an expert, but this was a great experience that I was looking forward to repeating the next day.

Next up is the jet ski. A1A was our tour guide for this, too. Heidi, the volunteer fireman, was to take us out for our first ride on a jet ski. Like Dot, she assured us we’d have fun and not to worry, just do as I say, go out on the ocean over there and drive this around, and in ten minutes, she’d join us. Here I am, needing to be the brave man before my wife, with my fear of deep water pressing me to bow out, but at the same time needing to man up. Little to do but grin and bear it, and off we went with a light touch on the throttle as I tried to warm up to speed over the ocean on this slightly bigger sliver of plastic powered by a menacingly fast engine. Heidi was fantastic in taking her time getting us up to speed. Our first stop was a reef where there was a chance we would snorkel, but the visibility was poor, so we ditched that and headed over to a sand bar. Off the jet ski, we stood hip-deep in the ocean, surrounded by sharks – I had to sacrifice Caroline to seek the mercy of Neptune.

John Wise and Caroline Wise on the Atlantic Ocean in Florida

Damn, those old waterproof single-use cameras were horrible quality; you should see the action shots Heidi took of the fuzzy blurs on the sea.

John Wise on the Atlantic Ocean in Florida

The first part of the tour took us slowly through a mangrove tunnel and near a pelican rookery getting me used to handling the jet ski before she took us out on the open sea and built up my confidence to go fast, really fast.

Caroline Wise on the Atlantic Ocean in Florida

Now comfortable with how this ocean rocket performed, Heidi took us on a slalom run that, at times, saw us speeding over the surface, slicing the water at over 50 miles per hour. We stopped for a break well away from the shore in what I would have thought was deep water, but instead, we were able to step off the jet ski and stand in the beautifully warm waters of southern Florida.

The face that says, “I’ve had another incredible day doing amazing things I don’t believe I thought I’d ever do.”

One of those rare photos of me that Caroline took and that I really do like.

A bit cold and totally wet it was time to check in the Harbor Lights Motel to put on dry clothes and have some dinner.

40,000 Feet

Sky Harbor Airport Phoenix, Arizona

Started early this morning at 4:00 a.m. to catch a flight to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida at 7:00 a.m.

Somewhere over the middle of America

The skies across America were clear most of the way, with patchy clouds here and there and some snow-topped mountain peaks in northern New Mexico before the landscape flattened out over Kansas.

Mississippi River near St. Louis, Missouri

A quick stopover in St. Louis, and then we were back in the air for a great view of the Mississippi River on our turn south.

Barkley Lake in Kentucky

About 15 minutes later, I could see where the Ohio River joined the Mississippi, and after a few more minutes, we were approaching the 184-mile-long Berkley Lake in Kentucky that stretches into Tennessee.

Aucilla River emptying into Apalachee Bay, Florida

Our flight continued over Alabama, clipping the southwest corner of Georgia before crossing the panhandle of Florida, then tracing the west coast. This here is the Aucilla River emptying into Apalachee Bay, Florida.

Over the Gulf of Mexico approaching Florida

We were traveling at over 550 miles per hour and were still about an hour from landing and starting our nearly weeklong trip to the Florida Keys. Fetching our rental car took longer than planned, and the rush hour traffic around Miami nixed our plans of watching the sunset in the Everglades National Park. A Comfort Inn in Florida City was where we rested our heads after dinner at an Italian place called the Capri Restaurant. So far, an uneventful beginning to what will hopefully be a thrilling vacation.