Paddling the Apopka-Beauclair Canal to Lake Apopka

All the wildlife we saw along the shore of Lake Apopka on our Apopka Loop Trail bike ride on Friday inspired us to try to get our kayaks out on the lake.  We found McDonald Canal Boat Ramp, off the north end of the lake, which is run by Lake County, Florida, and made haste over there on Saturday afternoon, February 12, 2022.  The facility had a sophisticated set of ramps and docks, and, while we had our choice of style of put-in, we chose to launch on sandy canal-bed from a grassy slope because other people were busy on the dock and boat ramp:

If you look closely in the left of the photo below, you'll see a group of kayakers that included a father and some teenage boys.  Clearly, the kids were doing everything but paddle, and the dad exhibited masterful patience encouraging them out the canal to try to do a little fishing north of the lake.

About a half mile from our launch site, we reached the junction of the McDonald Canal with the main Apopka-Beauclair Canal (also known as the "A-B" Canal), where we turned left to try to paddle nearly two miles down to the north shore of Lake Apopka.

The Lake is being reclaimed from extensive phosphate pollution.  As we worked our way down to the lake, we passed a massive pump that appeared to be pumping water from the canal into a nearby settling pond.  On this point, we weren't sure, but the machinery was impressive:

After all the wildlife we saw bicycling the lakeshore, we were disappointed in how little wildlife we had in the canal.  The first evidence we spotted was this turtle shell floating in the water.  We didn't think anyone was at home.

The Apopka-Beauclair Canal is a 7-mile dredged waterway connecting Lake Apopka with Lake Beauclair to the north.  The end of the Civil War in 1865 brought with it an influx of settlers to Apopka, Florida. The rich muck lands around the shore of Lake Apopka were capable of yielding excellent vegetable harvests, and the higher ground was perfect for citrus, but lack of transportation held back the marketing of the produce. In 1879, the Apopka Canal Company was formed to dredge a canal between Lake Apopka and Lake Beauclair. Located north of Lake Apopka, Lake Beauclair is also connected to the Oklawaha Chain of Lakes. Freight from Lake Apopka could be shipped through the canal, then across the Oklawaha Chain to Welaka and from there freight could be loaded onto boats for shipment to Jacksonville, where it could then be shipped to anywhere in the world.  However, the Canal turned out to be a much larger undertaking than originally envisioned, and work was not completed until 1887, by which time the railroads had been built.  Together with declines in agriculture due to low levels of water in the lake, as well as competition and damaging freezes, this caused the Canal to be chronically underutilized.

World War II provoked a massive engineering project: the formation of muck farms.  Some 9,000 acres of muck land were reclaimed from underneath the lake, through the creation of a levee. This muck land, much like the famed Everglades muck, was valued for its fertility. This area, once wetlands that helped to filter the lakewater, became devoted to “truck farming”, commercial farms focused on exporting produce.

After the levee was completed, the muck land was now nearly two feet below the surface of the lake, requiring major pumping operations to keep dry. Additionally, the muck itself dries out, shrinking in size by an incredible amount. To fight this, the mucklands would be regularly flooded when not in use, keeping them wet for the next season’s growing. When it was time to farm again, this water would be pumped out – into Lake Apopka. Millions of gallons of water laden with fertilizer and pesticide was now being discharged into the lake yearly.

Structures along the canal speak of this agri-industrial past:

A limestone gravel trail follows the shore of Lake Apopka, and, as we paddled, we crossed under a bridge for the trail:

The Canal is used by fishermen to access Lake Apopka, and, as we paddled, we were passed by half a dozen fishing boats.  They were all uniformly polite and slowed their speed as they passed us to avoid swamping us with their wakes:

Further down the main canal, we spotted this majestic egret.  He didn't like our approach and flew down the canal when we were near, so we encountered him several times in our down-and-back:

This wetland is as much prairie as water, and this image of a palmetto illustrates the prairie sections:

A pair of osprey use the Canal as their fishing territory.  We got a particularly good look at one of them, shown in the photo below.  At one point, the two osprey engaged in a defensive action to ward off two vultures who, for whatever reason, were hanging around the osprey -- possibly to steal their fish -- and, for whatever reason, this annoyed the osprey:

This is as close as we got to the shoreline of Lake Apopka -- perhaps 200 yards, but we needed to turn around to meet other schedule obligations:

One source of entertainment on the Canal was the moorhen population.  Paddling down, we witnessed a territorial or sexual competition fight between two moorhens, but it was broken up by a passing motorboat before we could get a video of the altercation.  On the way back up the canal, we encountered this pretty moorhen crossing the Canal ahead of us, with no motorboats to spoil the scene:

As we paddled back, the light was perfect for photography, with the lowering sun, which was behind us and just off our left shoulders.  The canal water was still and this mirrored image of the bike bridge seemed like something out of a French impressionist's painting:

We worked our way back to McDonald's Canal and over that toward our launch spot, passing a number of fishing boats moored next to what appeared to be a small commercial fishing operation, where containers, presumably to be loaded with fish, would be carried up a conveyor belt for storage in refrigerated trailers parked near the canal:

One bird thought the commercial fishing pier might be a good place to snag a free dinner:

Unusual for paddling in Florida, we had not seen even a single alligator on our paddle, when, arriving at our boat ramp, we spotted two huge alligators directly across from where we needed to land.  This fellow was the largest and nearest of the two.  As David paddled closer to him to get his picture, he started moving into the water straight at David's kayak, apparently challenging this threat.  If you look closely, you can see his Vladimir Putin eyes focused straight at the camera.  Needless to say, David paddled backward in a discreet retreat and there was no encounter.  But this was the first time we've ever had an alligator act in any sort of threatening way to us as we have paddled.

Don't need another.