There is a pretty large paddling community in Tampa Bay.  Many of these people I have met out and about.  However, other than those encounters, we rarely ever meet face to face.  With that, most of my communication is by message boards and e-mail.  

This is a long way to say that I got an e-mail from an acquaintance that a few of them would be fishing the Alafia (pronounced Al-a-fy) River on Sunday morning.  So I decided a trip would be in order.  We would put in at the Riverview Civic Center and fish that stretch.  

At 6:45 am, I launch after a brief talk with another paddler.  Rich headed out and started fishing directly across from the civic center.  I decided to paddle upstream so I could give him some room.  

Sunday morning was overcast with some high clouds.  There was also a bit of a breeze.  I was a little concerned we may get some rain but I continued upstream.  

As I was paddling, I was looking around just observing.  This area of the river is pretty developed with homes and the occasional trailer park.  They are some really lucky people to live there. Most are boaters, and many have canoes or kayaks. It was a beautiful quiet paddle.

Continuing up stream, I see a yellow kayak heading towards me. It was a gentleman out for an early morning paddle. He and his companion, looked like a brindle pit bull sitting in the tank well, were just out enjoying the morning. We exchange good mornings and nothing else. Sometimes the less said is better.

A couple bends later; I come across an Island in the river. This is the local gathering spot with 2 rope swings. I have been told there is a spring that empties into the river here. So I decide to look for it and check it out for a moment.

I paddle over to the riverbank and see a crystal clear stream emptying into the brown salty river and I decide to paddle up the stream. No more than 100 feet from the salt, I cup my hand and take a drink of the clear water. It is just as fresh as water out of your tap. Eventually I get to a point where I can no longer control the canoe and I beach it.

The water is cool, clear and fast. I am standing on a firm white sand bottom, about 6 inches deep. The banks are a black mud from eons of oaks, cabbage palms, and cypress trees. The air has a slight sulfur smell to it. The sky is all but blocked out by the oak canopy. I decide to walk up stream to the spring. After crossing a couple of fallen cabbage palms, and an oak, I come to an old steel and wooden bridge. For some reason, I am hesitant to walk under the bridge and decide to turn back.

Now I am back in the canoe and am headed back upstream. This was a spot where in my younger days, I could have been found, drinking beer, swinging on the rope swing and doing other stuff youngens do. Now, as a “so called” adult, it is a landmark on my paddle and I am more interested in the spring flowing into the river. It made me wonder, how many of the visitors to the rope swing really appreciate what is hidden back in the woods.

Upstream

Ahead, I see something out of place. Is it a small concrete bulkhead on the far bank? I can’t tell. As I get closer, I see it is a white igloo cooler. Looking around, I have the little dilemma going on. Did I just get a new cooler, or should I try and search out the owner? The answer is ahead.

On the left, I find an aqua green flats skiff with its bow securely tie to a dock. However, the tide is out and the bow is now 3 feet out of the water and the stern is submerged. The cushion on the cooler matches the color of the boat.

I nudge the cooler to shore with the bow of the canoe and get out to put the cooler up on the dock. As I am lifting the cooler up, I look at the house and notice a very large, black German Shepard. Ever notice how big dogs are where you don’t expect see them? I think to myself, “get back in the canoe Tom” and make my way. Cujo walks out to the dock and sniffs the cooler a couple times. He must have thought I was not a threat because he just watched me go on my merry way.

It is now starting to get a little later in the morning. You can hear lawn mowers starting and other things stirring. In the distance, I hear Church bells ringing. It must be about 8 am.

Looking at the banks, there are small culverts dumping water into the river. I wonder, where is the water coming from? We haven’t had rain in days. I guess it is just waste.

Ahead on the right, on a dock are another gentleman and his dog. They are just sitting, the newspaper at his feet still in the bag. What a way to start a morning. Walk out your back door and sit on the riverbank.

Now I am trying to figure how far to paddle. I know there are some rapids ahead so that will be my turn around.

The homes are now getting fewer and fewer. The river is also narrowing a bit. In one spot, a gust of wind hits and I am in a blizzard of leaves. The river bottom features are now starting to show. I know I am getting closer to the fresh water. In the distance I see a radio tower. As far as I figure, my home is probably ¾ mile to my right. Further ahead, I see a creek entering from the right. This must be Bell Creek. I cross this every time I am out bike riding.

The water is getting foamy and I see the rapids ahead. Now you northerner and mountain guys are probably snickering right now. By your ranking, these are probably Class .25 or .5 rapids. But hey, this is Florida and we have to take what we get.

I sit in the eddy for a moment; take a drink of water and head down stream.

Sunday morning and everyone is awake. I pass houses and hear people on their porches talking, televisions on with the political talking heads and the NASCAR pre race shows.

A woman in a red kayak passes me o the left. She is heading upstream. A little later an idling powerboat passes me. Engulfed in blue, two-stroke smoke, I pick up the pace and get some fresh air.

The river is awake.

Behind me, I hear voices and look over my shoulder. I see two kayaks. One, a tandem (father and son), the other a regular kayak. I recognize these guys from last years Alafia Challenge. They pass by me and the man in the tandem compliments my boat. They disappear around the corner.

In the distance, again I hear Church bells. It must be about 10 am.

The rope swing and spring is up ahead. There is already a boat pulled up to the shore. And I continue downstream.

There are more and more signs of civilization and the Civic Center is up ahead.

Here come the Tandem kayak and his buddy again. This time they are heading upstream. I think to myself “Boy, I must really be slow”.

Around the bend, I paddle up to the ramp. About 3 guys walk out to the dock. One shouts across the water “Dude! That is one sweet canoe!” I thank him and he asks if I will be racing this next Saturday. I tell him I am, and he says he is too and will see me there.

Total miles traveled, I have no idea. Total time paddling, 4 hours. It is now 11 am.

I went to go fishing, but never wet a line.

It was a good morning.

Pirogue,
Have you had the opportunity to paddle the Peace River? Very few homes on he river between Pioneer Park and the take out at Gardner. There is an opportunity to over night on any of the numerous sand bars that are on the river and it's just a short drive from Tampa.
flp

Fl Paddler,
I have done the Peace river the past two years.

The first trip we put in at Zolfo and paddled down to the Canoe Outpost. We camped at the steel bridge the first night and the lagoon the second night. It was a great trip.

This past January we paddled from Wauchula to Gardner.

You should take that paddle if you haven't done it since the hurricanes. It looks like someone took the tops off of all of the trees athe the 15 ft level. - Nothing but destruction as far as the eye can see. :(

Most of my paddling is in the Tampa Bay area. Alafia River, Hillsborough River, Cockroach Bay etc.

Where do you paddle?

wrote on May 11^th, 2005 at 10:08pm:

I went to go fishing, but never wet a line.

I know the feeling well.  And I've been to Cockroach Bay.  My wife is from Ruskin.   :)

-YB

wrote on May 12^th, 2005 at 1:42am:

I know the feeling well.  And I've been to Cockroach Bay.  My wife is from Ruskin.   :) -YB

I like Ruskin.  It's a cool little town.  Cockroach Bay is a beautiful place to paddle and it has great fishing to boot.

Rumour has it the State is going to take over the Preserve and make it a State Park.  One can only hope