Journey: 15.5 miles
Time: 8:45-6:10
Temp: 66-75
Weather: morning mostly cloudy – afternoon mostly sunny
Wind: strong north to 20
Water: 2 foot plus in sets
Trip: Exploratory into lake Winder by way of Moccasin Track. North on Winder, into a north wind, to 20 mph, swells to 3 feet. Were able to avoid some of the waves by paddling east side of lake past Moccasin Island into a labyrinth of hidden passages and quite waters. Once thru Winder, we traveled the river north two miles to the second slough on the west side, then to the far southwest corner, where a small obscure opening takes you into an amazing fresh water marsh ending at the shore of a hydric forest. Because of high water this isolated marsh seemed endless. The beauty forsaken. The cord sawgrass in all their glory, as the sun drenched their golden blades and the wind swayed the grass, as if they were alive. After a break at the forest edge we made our way back to the river and another 1 1/2 miles into another tributary that would eventually lead to Lake Florence and into Rockledge creek, where once stood the Rockledge paddleboat docks. I-95 sits there now. Before the railroad that came thru in January of 1893, Rockledge Landing and the boat docks at Salt Lake, near Titusville were the only means of transportation for people and product for Brevard County. With long shadows creeping in and a ways to go, we turn around and head back. From our put in, Lake Florence is not possible without an overnight, which was not planned. Back into Lake Winder with the sun going down, I won’t waste words in trying to describe the beauty of this magical remote place, like we’re the only ones in the world. Now heading South on Winder with a strong north wind, now on our backs, we are now dealing with an unpredictable following sea. One boat is flipped in the churning waves and we stop at Moccasin Island to build a fire to warm. With darkness falling the moon is bright enough to make the last mile home. Although I have head lamps in my boat, I don’t need them. By now the mosquitos are swarming. Another memorable adventure on the historic St. Johns. With my English Blokes Ernie Green and Jason Reed.
Mark Nathan
