Cayo Costa: Earth-friendly Cleaning

We forgot a sponge when we packed our camping gear for our month stay at Cayo Costa. You just don't go out and buy one here on the island. First you ride your bicycle for a mile, then you take a motor boat for a half-hour or a kayak for 4 hours, then a car for a half-hour minimum, pay money, throw away packaging, and then reverse the trip. So what does that take, a few hours and a few dollars? Or you can pick up your still-warm used tea bag and wipe the dishes clean, lickety-split (I don't mean lick and spit). Why would we want to use an old bacteria-laden sponge when a sterile teabag is available daily? If the wet teabag is dipped in sand it makes a great pot scrubber (did you really think we care about the bacteria?)


Yes ma'm, you can have a hot shower on the island if you heat the water in these solar bags and then lift the heavy things overhead. Make sure the dribble hits you where you need it most!

Or you can just take a relaxing cold shower, no fuss no muss.



Laundry is a bucket dance (or a swim in the ocean with the clothes on, then a rinse in the outdoor shower).



I like this whole house cleaning....just shake it out. Chemical-free, earth-friendly, green-clean, eco-whatever you want to call it......it's just more, well.....wholesome.

Cayo Costa: Star Gazing

Beach Morning-Glory


Without electricity and lights near Cayo Costa, we get amazing views of the stars. The night of the total eclipse of the moon was awesome and fun. Campers had fires going, and spotting scopes set on the moon. Music and song flooded the campground as the moonlight faded. When the moon was completely shadowed by the earth, it presented itself in an unusual over-ripe pear color. No flashlights or headlamps were needed to navigate for several nights during the week of the full moon.

Walking around during the day, I notice how many stars surround me. All of these photos are taken within 200 yards of my campsite.

A Starfish (Sea Star) Drifted in with a Sea Urchin


This little 8 inch plant surrounds my camp but I can't find it in my guidebook.


There are a lot of sand dollars on the beach near here.


This 6 inch white flower is moon vine. It blooms only at night.

Obviously, stars are shining on us 24/7.

Cayo Costa: Camp Kitchen

I love cooking outdoors, don't you? Even mac and cheese can be gourmade with a side of canned stewed tomatoes with basil and a sunset. The camp kitchen is simple but complete with everything a not-wanna-be cook needs; sink (water jug over an earthen floor), stove (25 year- old Coleman), pantry (black box with latches), and fridge (cooler).


The food pantry is nearly raccoon and feral hog proof. There are no provisions on the island.


If you can find them on this table top, the condiments are added to pasta-a-la-outdoors, rice versatilie, or spicy beans non-delux. PB&J and crackers with cheese are readily available favorites.


Some of Dan's catches won't fit well in the skillet such as this sea trout. Sometimes it works out better grilling them over a campfire. Dan is not too interested in cleaning and filleting the fish, but he does gut them! Today he caught several species; redfish, sea trout, snook, sheepshead, and flounder. He usually keeps whatever he catches first and releases the rest since we don't have good refrigeration.


Keeping it simple and enjoying the outdoors more, the camp kitchen.

Cayo Costa: Friends Visiting

Good Morning Cayo Costa! Shelling before Sunrise.



I hadn't been on Cayo Costa very long when Florida friends, Kornelia and Carol, came to visit for a couple of days. They arrived on this ferry boat with their kayaks and bicycles stowed on top. I gave them a tour of the island. Take a look.,,,,,


Kornelia showing Carol where she just spotted some dolphines surfacing
while on a bike ride around the north end of the island.


Carol and Kornelia taking time to "catch-up" and cool off in the surf.


Kayak touring through a mangrove tunnel. We paddled
through three miles of open water to get here.

Don't you want to visit too?

Cayo Costa: Out of Africa

Heading over to Cayo Costa Island on a Park Service Boat


Camp Site with Sleep Tent and Kitchen Tent


View of Coastal Savannah from Kitchen Tent


Morning Coffee



Why do I feel like I am someplace other than Florida? Africa keeps coming to mind. Is it our tent with its screening pulled back framing a view reminiscent of a sandy, palmy grassland in Kenya or Tanzania? Or the lack of electricity and running water? The unconditioned air that I'm not conditioned to? The quietness takes me far away; can this really be the States? No cars or machinery to break the sounds of the sea, birds, and swaying palm fronds. The night is a dark studded jewel like it is suppose to be and the day a vast scape of changing light and shadows. Wow, this is out of.....where are we?

Cayo Costa, a Florida State Park, is where Dan and I have chosen to do volunteer work for a month this winter. Cayo Costa is an undeveloped barrier island 6 miles off the southwest coast of Florida in the Gulf of Mexico. You can only get here by boat. We do a few hours of work per week and we get to stay in our tent for free. And free we are. Lovin' it!

I've been strolling around barefoot these hot days with a piece of fabric wrapped around my naked body. I feel like an African woman, especially when I balanced shower gear on my head for fun on my way to and from the outdoor shower (another story). It occurs to me after several days that this little "sun dress" I secure (and not so securely sometimes, by amature accident) with twists and knots around my chest is a piece of fabric I purchased years ago at an international fair in Toledo. I examine it further and find a label in the corner which reads "Printed in Tanzania." Could it be....the print is rubbing off on me?

Manatee Mania

Manatees congregating in warmer shallow water (photo from Manatees, a Tribute)

Tail Fin Next to My Kayak
Manatee Coming Up for Air with Nostrils Surfacing

A Pair of Docile Manatees (photo from Manatees, a Tribute)

What do they call a group of manatees? School, herd, pod? You'd be surprised how many biologists I asked who didn't know. Even the woman who answered the phone at the Manatee Education Center didn't know, but I liked the way she laughed each time she tried a different noun. You know how you can sometimes tell if you have the right word by sounding it out? That's what she was doing on the phone ...."a school of manatee, a herd of manatee, a pod of manatee." I explained I was curious because I ended up floating on top of several of them in shallow water and I wanted to tell this story in an educated manner. She never figured it out but continued to amuse herself with "flock.....clan....litter."

To move on with the story, I'll explain how I became so intimate with manatees, and I promise it won't sound too educated. You see, I was so delighted to finally find these unobtrusive ancient animals in the tanin-stained water of the Indian River Lagoon here in Florida, that I released my kayak paddle for a couple of minutes in favor of my binoculars and digital camera. The wind did fast work of putting my lame kayak in the center of the school-herd-pod of manatees. I could feel the manatees pushing against the bottom of my kayak. They encircled me, or somehow my kayak drifted into the center of their corral. I could have scratched their bulging backsides, bedecked with algae and barnacles. I swear their girths were greater than my 32 inch wide kayak. The school-herd-pod was so concentrated that there was not enough free water to set my paddle and sweep myself out of the way.

I held my breath knowing I could soon be taking a well-deserved swim. I wasn't too worried because I knew they wouldn't bite me; they don't have any teeth except molars and they are herbivores. That means vegetarian, thank you. Manatees are tame and trusting: not territorial. They don't even fight over mates, so what are they going to do with me? (Squish me and make muck?)
Manatees can stay underwater about 20 minutes but they usually come to the surface for air more often than that. I was surrounded by so many, that every few seconds I would hear a woosh of exhaled air and if I could turn my torso limberly in the right direction, I could see the nostrils flare on the tip of a surfaced bulbous snout within a paddle's length from me. Then the manatee would submerge, the lungs nurished and the nostrils closing, enabling feeding underwater.
They held me in suspense tottering on their backsides, while they sized up my underside. Would my blimpy 8 foot Hobie kayak resemble them enough in the dark water to adopt me until they slowly move laterally with their front flippers to a new grazing ground? Not a chance. Once one of these 1/2 ton marine mammals determined I wasn't part of the school-herd-pod, they all decided to take leave. This parting was not in their normal serene style of locomotion, but a grand, turbulent exit. I rocked in a sea of white water, waves pouring over the sides of my kayak as their paddle shaped tails lifted and propelled them away from my kayak.

These ancient, vanishing, mermaid-like animals gave me what a I deserved, a wet body and soggy pride, but they did not dump me. I think my Hobie is shaped too much like them; a roly-poly bouyant-neutral vessel that just settled calmly upright. Thank you again.

So is it a school, a herd or a pod of manatees that mania-teased me and my kayak? If I tell you that their distant cousins are elephants, would that help? Need another hint? Try sounding it out loud: "Cheryl, the nerd, drifted into a ______of manatees."

How to Pick Up a Friend

Garage-Sale Kayak in Florida

Garage-Sale Friend Phyliss in Kayak

I went for a bike ride one warm Florida morning several weeks ago. I wasn't shopping for anything in particular when I stopped at a garage sale. There was lots of stuff on the driveway but I noticed the blue kayak almost immediately. In trying to make kayaking more accessible for women through Water's Edge Adventures, I started to negotiate with the owner. I noticed a car pull up and a woman jumped out. She darted straight for the kayak exclaiming that she has been looking for one for months. I had this guilty feeling about buying the kayak when I already had 3 at home. She mistakenly asked me if I would take a certain amout for it, assuming I was the owner. I told her I wasn't the owner but I had already asked to buy it at that price and the owner refused. When she stated that she didn't want to go any higher, I was relieved. I said "Great, I will buy the kayak and you can use it until March when I head back to Ohio." Well, she liked that idea and we exchanged phone numbers in the driveway. Since then we have gone kayaking together and have become buddies.

My garage-sale kayak doesn't clutter Phyliss's garage any longer as she has since bought 2 new kayaks, one of which she loaned me for its maiden voyage when I had some friends visiting. Isn't this a nice exchange of trust? I have since learned that Phyliss, a mom with 2 young children, sports a long history of surfing. Her boards are stored next to her shiny new kayaks in her garage and she has offered to teach me how to surf!

I did pretty dang well that day garage-saling, wouldn't you agree? An ol' surfer with a big heart and vivacious spirit is a pretty unique find. You never know what you might pick up at a garage sale!