April 27, 2013

Big Lagoon State Park, Florida panhandle:

A beautiful day, close to 30 degrees Celsius, full sunshine on the white beaches of the gulf coast.

I didn't expect to make it out this weekend, but I am glad I did. Driving into the park with my friend Dakota, I was ecstatic about what I saw. The land was composed of white sand rolling dunes. Long-needle pine grew from these hills and cycads and other shrubbery clustered the ground. My mind went immediately to gopher tortoises, but I wouldn't find any of those chelonians. My mind quickly switched gears to sea turtle when we reached the ranger station to pay the entrance fee. Hanging on the wall were a number of different stuffed sea turtle mounts. "There are sea turtles in the park?!" I exclaimed. The ranger, amused by my display of enthusiasm, admitted that there were but the only come to shore after dark. I wasn't going to be in the park after dark, of course, but I didn't lose the hope of finding one. I would at least try. Upon arriving at the beach, we discovered that the beach was full of families and the water was fairly shallow (not much good for swimming, Dakota pointed out). Not deterred, we strolled down the shore, just wading or scrambling over the driftwood and brush. 

A fiddler crab. Ready for action.

The first creature I encountered was a fiddler crab. Feisty little guy, with one claw many times larger than the other. I think he must have been scavenging the high tide line. There were other crabs too, but they staid in the water. They were quite large, and could move fast to avoid my net. I think they were blue crabs.

What kind of fish is this?

Further along, we encountered a bit of a slough connected to the sea only by a narrow "creek" of ebbing sea water. It almost seemed to be a small scale salt marsh. In the water, attached to debris above the mud, were softball-sized clumps of jelly, akin to the amphibian egg-cases I've seen in Canada. I tasted the water, and it was definitely too salty for amphibians (or so I thought) so it must be something else. I think the answer was discovered when my friend pointed out a large school (though it looked more like a swarm) of little fish. I have no way of knowing what kind of fish they were, about an inch long each. They moved together and then, one or two would start twitching in an almost spastic flinch, before the whole lot of them would dive for the bottom and form a ball of squirming fishes. I think it was some kind of spawning. As I watched, a larger fish, a few inches in length, cruised in close to the spawning ball and it exploded and reformed a school of "minnows." I don't know what species either of the fish were, neither do I know for sure what they were doing or what the large jelly balls were. It's a mystery to me. Anyone reading this who might know anything should leave a comment for me. I'd be very appreciative.

From here I went alone down the shore, trying to catch blue crabs and little unidentified fish. I saw a pelican parent leading its youth around the lagoon in circles. I saw a family of ospreys making a racket across the water. A kingfisher gave me an irritated look as it dipped over my head in flight. My favourite song bird, the red-winged blackbird, sang from the reads ahead. I think the most interesting bird I saw was the king rail. At first I didn't know what it was; I'd never seen a rail before in my life. Only after I got home did I find out what it had been.

It's like a shell full of maggots.

By means of my sense of smell, I discovered an armadillo carcass close to the high tide line, under a small tree. It had been there so long (full of maggots), I have no idea what caused the death. It could have been washed up by the sea, or perhaps a predator killed it (though I don't know what preys on armadillos in Florida). It seemed to be lying near a ready food source (a rotting log full of insects no doubt), so maybe it just died of old age.

The old bones of a sea turtle. Sea turtles could easily be my
favorite animal. On this day, I was sure I wanted to be a
cheloniologist.

On the way back, I met some beach-goers on a trail who informed me of a sea turtle skeleton in the sand. I went over to investigate and, sure enough, the bones of a sea turtle were eroding out of the sandy bank into the water. Some of the scutes were huge. I estimated the turtle's shell at about a five foot diameter. Of course, this discovery wet my apatite for sea turtles immensely, and I felt a surge of energy flood my veins. I wanted to see a wild sea turtle right away!

I walked back to were Dakota had been hanging on the beach and summarized my plant to him. "Lets wade out into the sand flats," I said. I was hoping to find a sea turtle out there somewhere. Somewhere between us and the seabird colony across the way. An interesting dialogue was overheard as I went to change into my trunks. A little boy was leaning over the side of docked boat with a net hanging over the water. "I caught a little baby carb!" he squealed, delighted. He repeated this phrase multiple times. "Mom! I caught a little baby crab!" His mother frowning at the front of the boat seemed to try to ignore him. I wanted so badly to make my way over to him and show him the amazing little pincers on his "baby crab" but I didn't know how his mother would respond. Why was she ignoring him? She seemed to be stifling this little naturalists love for creatures. I prayed a blessing on him and smiled excitedly as I went by. He returned it with an energetic grin.

We started walking. It was really quite pleasant. The sun was hot, the water was cool, and we gave little thought to the stingrays that might drive their barbed stinger through our calves if we stepped on them. I saw a few more blue crabs, scurrying away from my feet (or under them) and an interesting fish with a long eel-like body which, with a few sinuous movements of its body, whipped out to deeper water. Suddenly, I spotted a large dark shape moving through the water up ahead. Immediately, my mind told me "sea turtle!" and I moved for it. It was hard to see under the rolling waves and the water was now up to my bellybutton. Within leaping range, I crouched for the spring; I wanted my turtle! Just before I pounced, however, I realized it was no turtle after all, but a cow-faced eagle ray. Good thing I looked before I leaped or might have received his barbed stinger in my arm. Eagle rays are placid creatures and these ones simply swam past into deeper water where the weeds were. Though disappointed I didn't catch a sea turtle, I was also excited to have seen and eagle ray (I've seen them before on Pensacola's beaches. In fact, one almost swam between a friends legs which sent him into a little bit of a tizzy.). Our conversation turned to stingrays and we decided to make our way back to the beach.