From 1967 to 1969 I was part of the Hydrobiology Research Team in the Water Resource Division of the U.S Geological Survey (see John Wesley Powell ), Department of the Interior. Our charge was the first scientific study of the ecology of the Everglades. Not like the writings of naturalists such as Margorie Stoneman Douglas (Everglades: River of Grass, as wonderful as that was). We were doing the actual physical measurements of the plant and animal communities and the physical chemistry of that River of Grass.

While a child in West Miami, I had a 3-speed black Phillips English Racer. I’d fill a canteen, put a pack on my back and my fishing rod across my handlebars, and I would cycle west on US 41 (the Tamiami Trail) miles out of Miami into the Glades where the villages of the Miccosukee tribe was. An unfortunate event in my life (see the earlier post entitled Jim Garrison) led a year later to the opportunity to join the team. These were amongst the best times of my life.

Most of the Glades are inaccessible to the public. It is a Wilderness Preservation area. The rivers on the Southwest corner of Florida have metal bars blocking boat traffic from entering the interior of the park. We would get to the Shark River Camp that Fred and I built on a 19 foot motor-boat (pictured in the photo section – look for me in the white Stetson hat on the bow of the boat) from Flamingo on Florida Bay at the very bottom of the Peninsula. We would get to the Cottonmouth Camp by airboat from the Shark River Fire Tower on US 41 near the 40 mile bend.

Imagine flying over the shallow water of the Glades, I never knew how fast, the sawgrass pushed down by the bow of the boat, dislodging G-d knows how many six- and eight-legged creatures. By the time we got to camp we were covered by them! That is dedication to the pursuit of knowledge!

One day we flushed a bittern up off the water in front of us. A bittern is an oddly shaped cross between a chicken and a heron with markings and colorings that effectively camouflage it in that environment. The natural reaction would be to look up at the bird as it flew up into the air in front of you. This time I was sitting on the right and Fred was sitting on the left of Aaron, our geologist. When we looked back down at each other, well, Aaron was strategically and unfortunately placed to have received the result on his face of having scared the literal shit out of that bird!

We couldn’t help but laugh. He reminded us he was our boss!!!