Letter from Lake Okeechobee by Greg and Barbara Allard
Hi Everyone – We had planned to make our annual voyage to the Bahamas. We provisioned the boat, and headed east across the state of Florida in February, using the Okeechobee Waterway. The Waterway saves about 150 miles; otherwise we would have to travel down the entire west coast of Florida, cross through the Keys, and then back north, up the east coast.
The Okeechobee Waterway has several parts: two rivers, the (Caloosahatchee and the St. Lucie), plus several stretches of man-made canals, five locks, and the huge Lake Okeechobee itself, which is in the center of Florida. The Lake is usually about 12+ feet above sea level, hence the need for locks to raise boats up to the Lake level, and then down again on the other side.
We have made the crossing dozens of time, and find it always a fascinating and intriguing passage. It’s often been described as a time-warp into old Florida.
Once we reached the east coast of Florida in Stuart, the news about the corona virus had intensified, and we decided to forego the trip to the Bahamas this year. That ultimately was a good decision, because as of now the entire Bahamas is locked down, there are significant restrictions on visiting boats, and travel is not permitted from one island to another. We support what the Bahamian government has done to keep their country safe.
After deciding that this was not a good time to leave the U.S., we turned around to head home; this meant we would complete two Okeechobee crossings in one month. So instead of a Letter from the Bahamas, this will be a Letter from Lake Okeechobee, showing you some of what makes us enjoy this old-world part of Florida. We also hope that in your isolation, this will serve as a distraction, however brief, from world events. Yes, we’ll miss the Bahamas, and the water isn’t as beautiful, but that’s just one of many concessions we’ve all had to make to fit in with our changed world.
We sincerely hope that you, your families and your friends are safe and well during these troubled times.
Warmest regards
Greg and Barbara
For those of you unfamiliar with the Okeechobee Waterway, this map is helpful, showing how it cuts through the middle of Florida. You can see the starting and ending points, the distances involved, and well as the location of the locks. Wikipedia reports that Lake Okeechobee is the “second largest natural freshwater lake contained entirely within the contiguous 48 states”.
We’ve done dozens of Okeechobee crossings, but rarely see deer, especially the water’s edge. Her left front leg remained in that position through several photos. I don’t know if she was getting ready to run, or whether she was just posing for the photo. The calm water helped make a fine reflection.
The railway lift bridge is just east of the Port Myacca lock. In this photo it was coming down slowly, so we had to stop and wait for the train. Most things along the Okeechobee Waterway happen slowly. It takes about five minutes for the bridge to come down, the train doesn’t arrive for ten minutes, and once the train crosses (sometimes a long freight train), then there’s a wait for another 10 minutes for bridge operator to decide to raise it. Life is not in a hurry along the Okeechobee.
For those with mechanical interests, in its fully open position, the bridge (lift) section is all the way at the top of the structure; here, it is about two-thirds of the way down. On the left and right sides of the structure, the two rectangular boxes hanging down from cables are the counterweights. They are designed to weigh just about the same as the bridge itself, so that it only takes a relatively small electric motor to raise and lower the bridge since the counterweights have made it essentially weightless.
Fishing along the St. Lucie river. On these two trips, we saw no signs of any algae bloom which on occasion has been evident in the lake and rivers.
Sugar cane is a major crop around Lake Okeechobee, and sometimes the farmers burn the sugar cane remnants
to clear the fields and prepare for the next crop. On occasion, the ash from the fires lands on boats, in this case on our deck, surrounding one of our fuel fills.
It’s rare not to see alligators. On this trip we counted over three dozen, including this big guy who is enjoying the sun. Happy that the hull of our boat is thick.
The majestic “Lone Cypress” at Moore Haven; this tree has served as a navigational aid since the mid 1800’s.
These four trees at Belle Glade, draped with Spanish Moss, stand sentinel to the morning sun.
“Resting on her Bones.” This wooden fishing boat has sat on the bottom, at the edge of the Caloosahatchee river, for at least a decade, slowly deteriorating. There’s a story there, for sure.
Morning fog on the Caloosahatchee River. (Photo by Barbara Allard)
Goodbye for now. Again, stay safe and healthy.
Greg and Barbara
Copyright 2020, Greg and Barbara Allard
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