On our 6 week trip around the country in 2016 one of the many places we stayed was in a campground near the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. I think it was in Georgia or maybe Florida. That doesn’t sound like a really nice place to camp and yet they still have a campground there. There were only three campsites filled, including ours. I immediately made a fire that we didn’t really need but only to ward off the mosquitoes. It was hot and muggy even after we went to bed.
The next morning we visited the Visitor Center and inquired about putting the kayak in and were told where the boat-launching ramp was. They also informed us that there were camp sites that you could only reach by non-motorized boat. Sounded interesting. What really got my attention was when they threw in a passing comment, but more of a disclaimer, about the poisonous snakes and hungry alligators. So, dismal, snakes, alligators, hot and muggy; and they still made a campground there! I can only imagine what their advertising brochure looked like.
It was an odd feeling paddling through the cypress trees with trunks that flared as they sink into the water. The trunks looking like they are almost balancing on the surface of the water. The water was the color of weak cold coffee or maybe Earl Gray tea. There was no tasting involved though. The trees are somewhat like an old upside down graying waffle cone. The shadows cast by the odd looking trees seemed to move and change their shape as I slowly paddled past them. I would turn around and they would seem to, as if, move with me and chase me even though it was during the day. I don’t think I’d want to paddle there at night. I don’t know why, but it was actually kind of eerie. I wasn’t nervous though. Not too much at least. I did keep my eyes peeled for some kind of Headless Horseman character paddling toward me though. At one point I thought I heard banjo music coming from beyond a distant dark grove of trees and scenes from the movie ‘Deliverance’ flashed through my thoughts. Just to be on the safe side I paddled in the the opposite direction.
It was then that I saw what I thought was an eye, a single eye peering at me from about 10 feet in front of the boat. An eye about the size of, yes, a bulbous alligator eye. No snout, no head, just a sparking wet eye protruding out of the water staring at me. An eye with a black pupil, somewhat like an elongated diamond shape.
An eye that was connected to an alligator that was probably pondering how a foreigner from California would taste.
And then it popped. It was only a bubble. BIG bubble.
Now, I was really nervous.
I had told Sandi that I would only go for about a 20 minute paddle, and as I was leaving the launch area I told her “and I don’t want to see an alligator” were my final words.
I wanted to just get the flavor of the area….without being the main course.
It was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. The brackish water, green algae floating on the top, and strange looking trees with arm-like branches growing out of the water was nothing like paddling out at South Beach. I didn’t want to even stick my hand in the water since I didn’t want to bring it back up again with it covered by leeches or something.
After about 15 minutes I started paddling back and noticed what I thought was a duck in front of me about 30 yards away between two trees. It was moving from right to left perpendicular to me. The only thing that was odd was that it was missing its head, and it was paddling pretty fast. I then realized it was an alligator, and I stopped paddling.
Then realizing that this moment would probably never happen again I started paddling, quickly, TOWARD the alligator.
Judging from the submerged head size and the wake that it was leaving I think it was about 5–6' long.
I got behind it and it sped up. I started paddling faster and started to gain on it, but it was still about 30 feet ahead of me.
Then it disappeared in a swirl of tea colored water. I quickly decided to not pursue it any longer realizing I may now be the one pursued. Now, I really really didn’t want to see it and no longer tried to catch up with it.
I made a big circuitous route around the area where I had last seen it and headed back.
I can only imagine what I looked like to the alligator. Me, the mack-daddy of all alligators splashing toward it with its arms flailing. Yes, that would’ve been a pretty scary experience for the alligator too.
The last reminder of the alligator was just when I was within 25' of the launch area, the kayak slowly rose up on one side as I was heading toward the ramp. My first thought was, “The alligator is underneath me trying to upset the kayak,” and I suddenly aged about 12 years.
My second thought was, “Great, I almost survived.” When I turned around to look in the gaping toothed mouth of the alligator, I realized that I had only paddled over a submerged log.
So, I almost saw an alligator and I REALLY did see one.
