According to Phyllis Kolianos, who manages the center, prehistoric Weedon Island people had lived here until 1000 A.D., and their burial mounds yielded exquisite pottery to archeologists in the early 20th Century. The land was farmed and oranges were grown in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries, and the benign ghost of settler Lorenzo "Papy" Ross, a Civil War veteran, is said to roam the swamps. Also from Kolianos we learned the origin of the term "mosquito ditch."
"We may not have a lot to thank mosquitoes for," she joked. "But they are responsible for the kayak trails you'll be traveling."
Fifty years ago, during an epidemic of mosquito-borne encephalitis, the Army Corps of Engineers had cut the ditches, believing fish would swim into them and eat the mosquito larvae hatched out among the mangrove roots.
"The project was not a success," she said. "The only really effective way to control mosquitoes is with flyover sprays."
But the ditches remained, kept from filling in by the movement of the gulf tides. With a little grooming, she said, they've been turned into excellent kayak or canoe trails.
"They open up a little known, wonderful world," she said, "although as yet it's a side of Florida not too many people have seen or even know about."
To see the sea turtles--five species ply these waters--or the West Indian manatees, you have to come in warm weather. The turtles, which in late spring come ashore to lay their eggs, migrate south when the weather turns colder, and the manatees, which also prefer warm water, swim to spend the winter in a tepid stream churned out by a local power plant, Kolianos said. But on our mid-October visit we saw a dozen shiny gray dolphins arcing out of the water in showers of glittering drops.
Also on the islands are stretches of creamy sand spiked with rough blond grass and palmettos, and pocked here and there with large, oval-shaped burrows gopher tortoises have dug. These they share with as many as 300 "associated species," such as rattlesnakes, frogs, crickets and spiders. But it was mid-afternoon under a hot sun when we went looking for tortoises, and all had the good sense to stay inside.
Our next three kayak excursions were at Ft. De Soto County Park on Mullet Key at the far south end of Tampa Bay, Caladesi Island State Park on a barrier island off Clearwater and Fred Howard Park near Tarpon Springs--followed by a final adventure.
Ft. De Soto
On Mullet Key, a 2 1/4-mile self-guided trail leads past 18 "stations" where you'll see such things as strangler fig trees, which send out roots that encase other trees--literally strangling them--and mangrove swamps where belted kingfishers dive for small fish. With luck you may see a non-venomous mangrove salt marsh snake, or an orange Florida horse conch, the state shell, or even a lumpy manatee, as some 180 are here March into November, said Frank Lapniewki, who runs Ft. De Soto Kayak/Canoe Outpost.
After the two-hour kayak trip, Jim Wilson, supervisor at Ft. De Soto County Park, led us on a tour of the old military post that was begun in 1898 to defend Tampa Bay during the Spanish-American War. The fort was abandoned in 1921 after a hurricane damaged it severely, but it again saw use as a bombing range for the Army in the 1940s, Wilson said.
"Ft. De Soto was not a desirable place to be stationed--the heat, humidity and mosquitoes were terrible," he said. "Even in summer the men wore uniforms made of wool, and there were no amenities--desertions were common."
Today most of the original 38 buildings are gone, but the old Quartermaster Storehouse was recently rebuilt and turned into a fine museum, which tells the story of the island and the fort. Antique shell casings, cavalry belt buckles and early glass insulators are among dozens of artifacts on display; videos made from century-old films show the placing of the fort's big guns.
The park itself--4,136 acres, of which 3,000 are "submerged"--offers much to visitors. In addition to the kayak trail, there are two piers for fishing; bird watching, with nearly 300 species to view; four concession stands; an elegant campground with 238 sites; and 7 miles of walking, biking and roller-blading trails. The park also claims 7 miles of one of the finest beaches in the country (according to geologist Stephen Leatherman, better known as "Dr. Beach"). There's even a Paw Playground, a 3-acre fenced-in stretch of sandy beach for pooches.
You reach Caladesi Island, one of Florida's few remaining undeveloped barrier islands, on board the Caladesi Connection, a speedy ferryboat driven by Joe Graffley, a salty humorist. He entertains with history of the island during the flying 15-minute run from Honeymoon Island State Park across St. Joseph Sound. (The ferry runs every hour between 10 a.m. and 5:30 p.m. seven days a week, depending on the weather.)