| Please note: GPS waypoints were initially taken from Waterproof Chart No. 39, and positions should be considered approximate. I'm currently taking my own GPS survey of all campsites, and these positions can be distinguished by the seconds coordinate, which is accurate to 3 digits, instead of the 2 provided by the nautical chart. | ||||||||||||
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Central Campsites | ||||||||||||
| Willy Willy | ||||||||||||
| Rodger's River Chickee | ||||||||||||
| Highland Beach | ||||||||||||
| Broad River | ||||||||||||
| Camp Lonesome | ||||||||||||
| Harney River Chickee | ||||||||||||
| Canepatch | ||||||||||||
| Shark River Chickee | ||||||||||||
| Graveyard Creek | ||||||||||||
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Willy Willy | ||||||||||||
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| Like nearly all backcountry ground sites, Willy Willy rests on a man-made foundation of shell built by the ancient Calusa Indians. The site has seen occupation by the Calusa and Seminoles, as well as white traders, for hundreds of years, right up until the formation of the Park in 1947. The campsite is located several miles north of the Wilderness Waterway trail in a narrow, secluded stretch of water called Rocky Bay. A mile of winding creek connects Rocky Bay to the northeast corner of Big Lostman's Bay. The southern approach is made through Rocky Creek, beginning at the extreme eastern corner of Big Lostman's. The campsite dock runs through a short mangrove tunnel that opens into a gently sloping clearing. In addition to the dock, kayakers have made a shore landing through the mangroves to the left of the dock as you approach the campsite. Willy Willy is spacious and open, shaded by tall trees and bordered by the lush tropical vegetation that abounds here at the edges of the freshwater Everglades. The water that runs out of the Glades is very clear and fresh, and the shallows just off the dock make for a refreshing swim, but please be cautious: on my last visit we encountered a human-habituated alligator that hung around in the water near the dock looking for handouts. Not only is it a bad idea to cause potentially dangerous animals to lose the fear of humans by hand-feeding them, it's also illegal, so please don't feed this gator, or any other wild animal for that matter. | ||||||||||||
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Rodger's River Chickee | ||||||||||||
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| Rogers River Bay is the southernmost of the chain of big inside bays that extend from the Lopez River south to the Broad River, and it is a big body of water that is divided by a nearly-as-big island. In a cove on the southern shore of this island lies the double chickee of Rogers River Bay. I spent my first and only night at Rogers River Chickee on my through trip in the fall of 2004, and I can attest that it's one of the prettiest chickee campsites along the Wilderness Waterway Trail. The view from the chickee is wonderful at any time, but the rising sun across the bay on a clear morning is truly a sight to behold. If you're camping at Rogers River Bay for the first time, please keep in mind that the chickee is actually located about a quarter mile west of where it's marked on the nautical charts, and you shouldn't have any trouble finding the spot. | ||||||||||||
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Highland Beach | ||||||||||||
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| The Highland Beach campsite is located at the north end of several miles of sandy beach that begins just south of Lostman's River and stretches nearly to the entrance of Rogers River. The beach is backed by a ridge of sand overgrown with trees and brush. This ridge was the site of several homesteads dating from the 1880s through the early 1930s, and roads were cut into the surrounding jungle for the purpose of transporting the great royal palms that once grew wild in this area. The palms have all been removed, many of them sent to decorate the sidewalks of boomtown Ft. Myers in the days of Thomas Edison and Henry Ford. Today, the miles of sandy beach are empty of homesteads, and provide ample room for camping. Approaching and leaving the beach is best done on a rising tide, as the low tide will leave exposed bottom for hundreds of yards out. These flats extend as far south as the Broad River entrance, and long muddy portages are common. On the bright side, the shallow approach discourages motors and the site is generally left to paddlers. I've also seen more wildlife, such as deer and bobcats, in the forest along Highland Beach than at any other spot along the Waterway. | ||||||||||||
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Broad River | ||||||||||||
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| The Broad River campsite is located about 2 miles east of the Gulf coast river entrance, and is one of the nicer backcountry ground sites in the Park. The site is spacious and sports a dock with a cleated wooden boat ramp. The river at this spot is subject to tidal influences that can lower the water level to more than 6 feet below the dock, and the ramp facillitates the loading and unloading of paddlecraft at low tide. Be careful, though, as the ramp is submerged at high tide and can be very slippery with silt and algae at low water. Once you've unloaded your boat, you'll find that the campsite is divided into several semi-private areas by natural walls of trees and brush. For southbound trekkers, Broad River campsite is the staging point for a journey through the Nightmare, the long, skinny mangrove tunnel that is passable only on a high or a rising tide. I've left the Broad River site as early as 2 AM to catch the high tide, and I can say that paddling the Nightmare by night under a full moon is an experience not to be missed. For travellers heading east toward Camp Lonesome, the Wood River is an interesting alternative to the open channel of the Broad River. I recommend this route only to the more hardcore paddlers out there, as the river becomes overgrown for about 2 miles of it's length, so you'll be dodging snags and deadfalls in waters populated with many alligators, and pulling your way through spider-laden branches and aerial roots for a good couple of hours. Not impossible, but just aggravating enough to be wearisome for the less adventurous, and it is a very difficult place to reach in an emergency. Following Hurricane Wilma, the Nightmare canoe trail is still blocked and closed, and the status of the Wood River is unknown, but I imagine that it's blocked as well, with no immediate plans to clear it. | ||||||||||||
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Camp Lonesome | ||||||||||||
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| Camp Lonesome is one of the most remote campsites in the park, resembling a smaller version of Willy Willy, and sharing a similar history as an Indian settlement and trading post. Located just east of the convergence of the upper Broad River and the Wood River, the campsite is located well off the beaten track of the marked Waterway trail, and reaching the spot takes a little more effort than most other sites. When you arrive at the dock, you'll find that a short boardwalk leads to a small clearing overshadowed by fig and gumbo limbo trees. The floor of the clearing is uneven and bumpy with tree roots, and there are a couple of picnic tables taking up more room than I personally think is necessary, but even so, Camp Lonesome is one of the more appealing campsites of the Wilderness Waterway. Lush ferns and other tropical vegetation crowd the edges of the clearing, providing a break from the seemingly endless mangroves, and footpaths lead into the surrounding jungle. After dark in warm weather the fireflies will put on a light show that I have never seen equalled elsewhere. | ||||||||||||
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Harney River Chickee | ||||||||||||
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| Harney River Chickee has been condemned by the park Service and is no longer in use. Having once spent a shaky night on the old single platform, with the chickee swaying from the pressure of the strong tidal currents, I can easily understand the need to close the spot. The currents here are so strong that should a person fall off the platform and into the river they would stand little chance of making it back to the chickee. It's my understanding that the chickee will be rebuilt and relocated in a different and presumably safer spot. This is a good thing, because without it we would be missing a vital link between the central rivers and the northern shores of Whitewater Bay and the Shark River. The chickee as it stands now is built tight against the north side of a small mangrove island that divides the Harney River about 3 miles east of the river entrance, and lies directly across from the mouth of the stream that leads north to Broad Creek and the Nightmare. This is the spot where I launched a 3 AM night paddle through the Broad Creek tunnel, a stream much like the Nightmare, except that it's passable on all tides. I emerged from the tunnel under a full moon, and when I finally reached the Gulf of Mexico, the moon was setting ahead of me on the wide open horizon, while the sky was just beginning to turn pink with the coming dawn at my back - and I was absolutely alone. It was an experience that I will never forget. | ||||||||||||
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Cane Patch | ||||||||||||
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| The Cane Patch ground site vies with Camp Lonesome for the title of most remote backcountry campsite. Nestled deep in the backwaters of upper Tarpon Bay along Avocado Creek, the site is named for it's former role as a small commercial sugar cane plantation. Wild cane is still to be found growing on the site, as well as banana, papaya, and avocado trees. From the dock on Avocado Creek, a boardwalk shrouded in low-hanging mangroves leads to an open clearing large enough for several tent sites. At one time there were fire rings at Cane Patch, but these have since been removed and fires are no longer allowed. Several foot trails lead from the clearing into the surrounding forest and invite exploration. I have a vivid memory of sitting in my tent at Cane Patch, watching a flock of catbirds pecking and chattering in the clearing outside. One of the catbirds hopped fearlessly into the tent to nab some bread crumbs from my lunch that were scattered on the floor. Shortly after the catbird hopped over the sill and back outside, a red-shouldered hawk swooped suddenly down and grabbed the hapless bird right outside the door of the tent. The hawk sat there for just a moment, and we stared at each other in startled surprise before it lifted off with it's still struggling dinner, filling the air with dust from it's great flapping wings. Just goes to show that you can never tell what will happen when you're in the Everglades wilderness. Cane Patch is a wonderful place to get a feel for what life must have been like for the early pioneers who eked out a spare living from the fertile soil of the Everglades. It's also a great jumping off point for exploring Rookery Branch, the freshwater creek that flows from the terminus of the Shark River Slough, the great River of Grass that the Everglades is so famous for. | ||||||||||||
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Shark River Chickee | ||||||||||||
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| Shark River Chickee consists of a single platform backed up tight against the trees, and is located at the head of a nameless tributary of the Little Shark River just west of where it splits from the Shark River proper. The tidal influence here is still very strong despite the distance from the Gulf of Mexico, and water levels can drop nearly five feet below the platform on the low tide. It's location so close to the mangroves invites bugs during warmer weather, and I've spent evenings holed up in my tent listening to the shrill whine of what had to be thousands of mosquitos swarming the platform. The no-see-ums are as bad or worse. In cool or breezy weather, however, the site can be very comfortable, and the tall mangroves of the surrounding forest give a cathedral-like quality to the late afternoon light. If you're coming up from Whitewater Bay or Oyster Bay, and you're very sure of your chart and compass reading skills, try getting to Shark River Chickee through one of the Labyrinth routes. The Labyrinth is a complex series of interconnecting creeks and passes that starts at the extreme northeast corner of Whitewater Bay and extends north to the Little Shark River and west to Oyster Bay. Johnny Malloy outlines one route in his Paddler's Guide, but there are many possible routes. | ||||||||||||
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Graveyard Creek | ||||||||||||
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| Graveyard Creek is located on the northern shoreline of Ponce De Leon Bay at the entrance of the creek that gives the site it's name. The campsite is situated on a high sandy ridge that parallels Graveyard Creek on the east, and despite it's "beachy" ambience and location on the Gulf, the Park service still considers it a ground site, and no campfires are permitted. I'm not sure where the name came from, but the piles of storm-wrecked mangroves that cover the western shoreline is certainly suggestive of a graveyard, and endows the site with a kind of weird beauty, especially at sunset. The hurricanes of 2004 and 2005 have taken their toll on the site, and nearly all of the sandy beach along the Gulf side has been washed away, leaving just a narrow shelf along the creek. Shallow flats extend for a great distance west and south of the mouth of Graveyard Creek and portaging is a real possibility on a low tide when approaching from the Gulf. If you're coming in from the Shark River or Oyster Bay, you can approach the site via Graveyard Creek, which is navigable on all tides. Just be careful of the oyster bars at the mouth of the creek. | ||||||||||||
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