Way Down Upon the Suwanee River

 Swanee, how I love you, how I love you
My dear old Swanee.
I'd give the world to be
Among the folks in D-I-X-I-
Even though my mama's
Waiting for me,
Praying for me
Down by the Swanee.
The folks up north will see me no more
When I get to that Swanee shore.

This was Al Jolson's love song to the Suwanee River.  Another love song to the river, Old Folks At Home (Way Down Upon the Swanee River) was written by Stephen C. Foster and is Florida's official state song, but we're not quoting that because it has been criticized for its questionable lines having African American's longing for their old plantation home -- even though, ironically, Paul Robeson played a major role in popularizing the song.

Anyway, the Suwanee River is legendary. It runs through south Georgia southward into Florida. It is a wild blackwater river, about 246 miles long. The Suwanee River is the site of the Suwanee Straits which, over 40 million years ago, separated the submerged Florida panhandle from the continental mainland of North America.  Over eons since, materials eroded from the uplifted Appalachian Mountains filled in the trench and spread across the panhandle to make the Florida of today. The headwaters of the Suwanee River are in the Okefenokee Swamp, where we will be camping next, and in many ways, our trip north through Florida has been to follow the great Florida rivers and lakes upstream.

We found a boat ramp conveniently near our campground and headed out to paddle up the Suwanee.  Our destination was the Old Town railroad trestle that now serves to carry the Nature Coast State Trail, a multi-use trail that we hope to bicycle later this week, over the Suwanee River:

The entrance to Fanning Springs, which we also wanted to explore, lay directly across the river from where we entered, but we decided to leave the springs and Fanning Springs State Park until we returned downriver.

As we started paddling upstream, we saw the highway bridge that passes our campground.  To our surprise, some person has set up housekeeping on a more-or-less permanently moored boat just below the bridge.  Sort of like dry camping with an RV at Walmart, except for much longer than just overnight:

Many homes, some as modest as a fishing cabin and some as opulent as mansions, dot both sides of the Suwanee River in this area.  Most are of the modest sort.  We saw many broken down docks and, occasionally, we even saw a boat that had been sorely neglected, and we wondered why a homeowner would fail to keep a boat safe and sound:

We paddled over 1.5 miles against what proved to be an unusually strong current, as well as a headwind.  Our research had suggested that the Suwanee River is slow, but, while the water was calm and smooth on the surface, the current ran strong.  Having reached Old Town on the river, and not yet seeing the railroad trestle, we checked our GPS and estimated that we might have another 2 miles to fight the current in order to get to the bridge.  This was nearly twice the distance we had originally estimated, and we decided to cross the river, turn back, and enjoy a float downstream with a little less effort than the paddle upstream.

Before we turned around, we enjoyed a lunch to replenish our strength and rest our arms and shoulders.  Kathy's smile certainly showed that she was feeling peppier than before lunch:

On the float back down the river, we came across more quirky homesteads and fishing camps, including this interesting method for storing a rowboat:

Despite their modest appearance, though, these little camps are obviously adored by their owners.  The owner of this little cabin and dock has dubbed the camp, "Almost Heaven," and we believe that the time s/he spends there probably comes close:

Thus far, the paddle had been without any wildlife sightings, which has been exceptional for our Florida paddles.  We had given up hope of getting photos of critters when we finally ran into this female cormorant, who obligingly stood firm until David was almost on top of her with his kayak.  We apologized to her for bothering her.

Eventually, we returned to Fanning Springs State Park, which, as the sign shows, boasts manatees.  We will not keep you in suspense:  We saw no manatees at Fanning Springs.  We did, however, see two manatees in the cove just below our RV campsite the afternoon we arrived; we didn't have our camera handy, so you will just have to believe us.

As we approached the channel to Fanning Springs, we encountered this warning sign, which reads, "Danger -- Jumping Sturgeon."  

 

We saw no sturgeon flying through the air, and had never heard of this danger.  After our paddle, we did some research which indicates that this section of the Suwanee River is notable for jumping sturgeon.  While experts are not certain of the reason for these fish to jump through the air, their best guess is that sturgeon do it to equalize the air pressure in an air bladder in their body that helps them deal with water depth and pressure.  In fact, a significant number of people have been injured by jumping sturgeon.  A sign at our boat ramp included a memorial for a little girl who died when a sturgeon jumped and caused her family's boat to swamp.  So this is no matter to treat casually.  Presumably, our little kayaks would not protect us.

The theme of this paddle could easily be, "Odd Structures on the Suwanee River," because we so no end of unique, odd and interesting structures.  This mysterious structure sat on the bank of the channel into Fanning Spring, with no explanation of its original purpose.  It did not appear to be functional presently.

Fanning Springs itself was an anticlimax.  The channel was short and we reached the swimming area immediately.  As best we could tell, the spring's main source lay just on our side of the swimming barrier.  They water was a deep blue and David commented that he might have named this, "Sapphire Springs," rather than naming it after a military guy who won fame and the right to have his name attached to this springs and a fort near here because he was so adept at helping Andrew Jackson shoot Native Americans in the Seminole Wars.

We paddled back out from Fanning Springs and a little further downstream to find the channel that leads into a bayou or cove just below our campground site.  As we paddled, we spotted one of only two early bloomers -- not to be unexpected in mid-February, but a harbinger of Spring:

A little further downstream, our hunger for wildlife was overfed by a host of turtles sunning themselves on dead branches and logs in the water.  Here they are without editorial comment:

We turned off the river at the Suwanee Belle Landing Restaurant, a lively place that we hope to try for lunch tomorrow, which is forecast to be rainy, and headed down to our cove -- which was unmistakeable from the banner posted at the entrance, and its instruction to us was clear -- "Paddle faster, I hear banjos playing":

The thought of banjos playing made our hearts beat a little faster, and we probably did pick up our paddle speed.  I can't swear for sure.  But Kathy sped on ahead as we approached our cove:

We finally arrived!  Here is Buster, perched jauntily above the water, accessorized with a beautiful wooden deck and rocking chairs.  We prefer the rocking chairs.  Ruby the cat prefers prowling for lizards under the deck.

Ruby caught one lizard, but it got away.  If she catches another one, we'll update you, perhaps with an action photo.

Cheers!