Day 88 - Gator Paradise
Today’s update will be short. I’m exhausted. The paddling was long and hot, with very little flow to help me out. It was essentially a slackwater paddle. A headwind most of the day didn’t help matters. And I’m now camped on an alligator-infested cove.
Day 88: Manchac Point → Philadelphia Point aka “Gator Lagoon”
Date: October 4th, 2022
LRM 214 → LRM 181
Distance today: 33 miles
River Time: 10.5 hours
Countdown to New Orleans, LA: 78 Miles
Local Gauge: 5.0 Baton Rouge Gauge
I awoke today before dawn, yet when I got on the water I was greeted by a strange bright light. A flame. I could see it clearly even though it was ~5 miles away. The flame was huge, well over 20 feet, and it was coming out of some sort of chimney. I later learned these are chemical plant discharges for burning off byproduct gasses. And I will see more of them. Welcome to Cancer Alley.
It was an odd thing to paddle with. I felt like a moth going toward a candle, because I would always find myself steering right toward the light even if I didn’t mean to.
It wasn’t all bad though; when I looked behind me, I was treated to a beautiful sunrise:
I knew the current would slow down below Baton Rouge, but I was still shocked by truly how much flow I’ve lost. There was a very slight flow, but it was essentially slackwater. I had flashbacks to paddling through the pools above St. Louis.
The 33 miles today — which would have been a piece of cake only two weeks ago — were a slog. I paddled slow and steady, but I was just not getting the same mileage at all. It was a little disheartening — a tough pill to swallow to go from 5.5 mph to now about 3.2 mph. That makes a big difference when stretched out to 12 hours.
I had my sights set on mile 181, a place called Philadelphia Point, which looked to be good camping. Along the way I met lots of chemical plants, tows, and the new kids on the block: the ocean-going vessels. Below are some photos from the day’s paddle:
The Alligator Lagoon
Upon reaching Philadelphia Point, the beautiful sand beaches opened up to me, and right off the bat I saw a really nice looking spot. As I made my approach, I saw two smallish alligators sunning on the sand. I decided to pass on that spot. Those two gators slinked into the water, and it was only then that I noticed five more in the water. There were seven alligators guarding this great campsite!
I moved on, about 5 minutes downstream, to an empty beach. There are lots of alligator tracks on this beach, and those seven gators from before are within shouting distance a bit upstream. Every half hour one pokes its head around the point separating us and lingers in the water with only its eyes and snout showing. It eyes me warily for a few minutes, in silence, then disappears.
I am within shouting distance of the gators, upstream and downstream of me. The sun is setting and they have begun bellowing. Needless to say, I will sleep with one eye open tonight, and with the Bowie knife close at hand. Good night!
what the heck--how can you sleep if you have aligators all around?! Scary. So many tales you will have to tell... if you survive the aligators!
Yikes! Stay safe!
As your friend said, it is bittersweet to know that you’re at the end of your adventure. It’s such an amazing accomplishment, but we’ll miss your journal entries. The photo of the sunset was lovely, and the alligators are interesting but a bit scary. Best wishes for smooth canoeing the rest of your journey!