We got a winner here!
The Wekiva River flows into the St. Johns River below DeBary at marker 96. I put in from the High Banks boat ramp in DeBary and paddled the mile or so to marker 96. The Lower Wekiva River is north of the Upper Wekiva River but is called lower because the river current flows from south to north. Well that's my take on it anyway.
The Wekiva averages about 40 feet in width and even with the low water levels, it ranges between 2-5 feet deep with a pretty constant 0.5-1.0+ knot current. It's much clearer and colder than the St. Johns with a mostly sandy bottom with lots of eel grass and hyacinth (I think), a leafy, lettuce looking plant manatees like to eat. Manatees generally like (I think) warmer and slower moving rivers. In any event, I still haven't seen any on the rivers.
Moss draped live oaks and cypress trees lined both banks. Normal water level marks could be seen on the trees 3-4 feet above the current water line. A half a dozen fishing boats dotted the banks for the first mile or so and no wildlife could be seen at all except for a dozen or so turkey buzzards, ever watchful for any bit of food that might come their way. A pair of ospreys circled around putting the finishing touches on their nest.
Paddling upstream against the current I kept an eye out for a couple of feeder streams that entered or left the Wekiva. All I saw were a couple of places with dense growths of lily pads that may have been junctures.
A little tiny feeder stream had an even tinier channel with dense growths of lily pads and some other plant, with long vines and many 4-6 inch stalks topped with small lily pad like leaves. I saw a little open water beyond and pushed my way through. It looks as though a power boat may have forced its way in earlier because the viney plants looked as though they had been disturbed along the channel edges. After a minute or so I came to an even tinier channel and had to put the kayak up on edge to squeeze through. I powered over a small log but then gave up when a pile of branches blocked the channel.
No more fishing boats could be found after the first mile and a half or so. Wildlife began picking up with egrets and herons appearing amongst the lily pads and turtles came out sunning themselves on any available log. Soon, turtles were everywhere, on every log in sight. I soon saw one log with 7 turtles on it, a record for me. It wasn't long after, however, I saw another log with 8-9 turtles, all in a row. I say 8 or 9 because before I could count them all, several plopped themselves into the water. 5 remained on the log and I wasn't sure if I saw 3 or 4 plop in the water. So I'll accept 8 as my new record.
About an hour an a half into the paddle I met another fisherman and he pointed out the Black Water Creek to me. This is a creek I'm interested in paddling so I made note how long it had taken me to get here.
With the low water level, the ground area beyond the first line of trees looked as if they had been groomed, as if in a park or campground with no undergrowth. In fact, several places along the way had been used as camp sites by more than one group.
The farther up (south) the river I went, the clearer it became. It was easy to watch schools of small bass swimming for deeper water as I passed over them. A few decent sized fish also darted for safety in deeper water.
It was utterly silent in this narrow river with 40-50 foot trees lining both banks. When a blue heron took flight with a great flapping of wings and croaking its fool head off, it gave a sense of being back in prehistoric times and you could expect to see some huge dinosaur come stepping out of the forest. (OK, I just finished re-reading Jean Auel's Valley of the Horses so I may be a little susceptible to flights of imagination).
Just as I was convinced no alligators lived on this river I saw a little guy draped along a log, oblivious to me and everything else around it. I passed it by and around the next bend in the river was a 6+ plus gator lying in shallow water. He was awake and saw me but didn't even twitch as I paddled by as quietly as possible. A minute later another 6 footer could be seen basking in some grasses. If they saw me, they were unconcerned and none of them were disturbed.
2 1/2 hours into the paddle the shoreline changed abruptly from oak and cypress to those thatched palmettos with a few taller cabbage palms. The fisherman I had met earlier had told me about seeing 5-6 deer back in this area while fishing a few years ago so I was paying a little more attention to the areas beyond the trees. I was rewarded with a lone wild turkey hen searching for tidbits in a small opening in the trees. She was moving along and when I tried to get a picture (that probably wouldn't have turned out because of the lighting) she moved behind a long line of shrubs.
I also came across a lone wood stork back here. While they boldly walked around one campground I was in and many wintered on Merritt Island, it's much more impressive to see them in a more natural setting. After all, a wood stork belongs in the woods, right?
After 3 1/2 hours of paddling I came upon several houses. The nearest had a large pile of beer cans near shore. Looks like there's some real partying going on up here. I had just passed a sign pointing the other way indicating the start of the Lower Wekiva River Canoe Trail so I figured this was a good spot to have lunch and begin the return trip. Looking at a map later, it looks as if I had another half mile or so to the SR 46 bridge. That area is populated so I don't think I missed anything.
I expected to see a lot more alligators on the way down. I'd be going with the current and making a lot less noise. After a mile or so I hadn't seen any at all. I wondered if they're more alert to things that may come noiselessly from upstream than for noisier things coming from downstream? Turtles were conspicuously absent also.
Finally a couple of 2-3 footers could be seen on logs and then larger gators showed up on the shores. I was coming around one bend and saw a long ridged tail and part of a back on the far shore. I got the camera out and the zoom extended. I lined up the canoe and had a perfect setup and perfect line to drift right down on the large alligator without making a sound or using any unnecessary motion. And don't you know, several nearby turtles plopped into the water and the gator slid in too, without even looking around to see what might have spooked the turtles.
Many more small and larger gators could be seen along the rest of the river, even some 4 footers which I hadn't seen many of before.
Back on the St. Johns River, I was greeted by the lovely sound of several power boats zooming by at full throttle in one direction and several others zooming by in the other. The only saving scene on the way back to the put in was a 4 footer sun bathing on a log pointing out into the river. It was stretched out completely and had all 4 legs dangling over the side of the log. I got within 20 feet and shot a couple of pictures before leaving it, still undisturbed.
What I've noticed is, the little guys let you get real close. The middle size guys spook a little earlier and the monsters freak out as soon as they see you. It might be there are no old, bold alligators and the bold young ones don't live to be old ones.
This was definitely a 'do again'. I plan on going part way up the river again in a day or so to try the Black Water Creek and won't mind repeating the lower part again. The upper part of the Wekiva River begins at Wekiwa Springs State Park. I believe that part is a little shallower. The whole thing would be a 20-30 mile trip.