
Friday,
March 14, 2025
Brunch: Hoot’s
Breakfast & Lunch OR Mango’s Dockside Bistro ARRIVE BY NOON for 12:30pm Rookery
Bay kayak tour (Mangroves and Mudflats), $65 + $10 parking
Snack: Mr.
Bentley’s Homemade Ice Cream vs Annie’s Ice Cream Parlour
Dinner:
leftovers or something easy (Heidi’s German Restaurant, Ft. Myers?)
Friday Dear Husband and I drove back down the SW coast of Florida to have brunch at a local chain in a shopping plaza, where we seemed to hit the tail end of the breakfast rush. This was fine by us, because we wanted to eat up before spending 3 hours out on the water in kayaks.
This appears to be the only photo I took the whole day. It is my crab eggs Benedict with a token fruit cup. After brunch we drove to the launch point, where we were quite early. We applied sunscreen and then just stood around in the hot sun / mild shade waiting for the staff to scarf their lunch and the other participants to arrive. Finally it was time to put our supplies into a borrowed waterproof bag and shove off in our tandem kayak.
Our two guides, one a marine biologist who had grown up in Maryland and called out our Orioles baseball caps--the Chesapeake Bay is the continent's largest estuary--were full of knowledge about the Everglades. They taught us about the three colors of mangrove trees and how lifecycles changed with the tides. We had left our phones in the car to be safe, so luckily, they were also taking photos!
Parent osprey returning to the nest
WHAT IS THIS FACE I'M MAKING???
Part of the fun was hauling ourselves under low-hanging branches.
Then it was on to the beach! As often as we have visited Florida, we have spent precious little time on the sand and none in the water, because the weather hasn't cooperated. I got a recommendation from our guide to go to Tigertail Beach for the rest of the afternoon, so imagine my dismay when we parked the car, hiked down the wooden walkway, and greeted...a still, inland lagoon. No waves. Squishy mud instead of sand. And it smelled kind of funny. Sitting disconsolately on a covered bench eating my apple, I watched other people wade across the lagoon at a certain point and disappear into the dunes. There were way more cars in the lot than people at the water's edge, so I convinced DH to follow me in that direction.
Sure enough, on the other side of the shallow sandbar was a grove through which a rivulet cut a path just wide enough for one person to walk. After a few minutes, we emerged into the sun on a small rise above an honest-to-God Gulf of Mexico sandy beach. We dropped our stuff and waded out, because all I wanted to do was stand in the breakers. They weren't as big as I wanted, and it wasn't as warm as DH wanted, so after half an hour we trooped back. I had forgotten the beach towels at our AirBnB, so we used our shirts to dry off in the sketchy restroom trailers before getting back in the car.
I had planned to taste-test Marco Island's rival ice cream shops, but we were tired and sunburned, having not re-applied sunscreen often enough, so home we drove for a dinner of leftovers and a movie on Netflix: The Woman in Gold.
Day 6: the trip's tongue-twister