Vero Beach – 5 miles by dinghy, 14 kilometres walked
I awoke to a cloud-less, wind-less, current-less, and warm morning – perfect conditions for a paddleboard ride. The last time I used it was way back in Waterford, at the termination of the Erie Canal, and since then I’m sure my paddling muscles have turned to jelly.
After removing the board from the deck and getting it in the water and ready to go, I glanced behind the boat to figure out which route I would take. Poof! I heard that noise we heard in Titusville a few days ago and I looked over to see a manatee nose disappearing beneath the water and a series of spiraling water whirlpools left by the motion of its tail.
“Ana!” I screamed. “A manatee! Get out here!”
Ana appeared in the cockpit half dressed and wearing her towel turban. “Where??” she asked.
“Just back there, watch.”
The manatee did not surface again but you could see the ripples on the water from its motion.
“I’m going to see if I can get close on the paddleboard,” I said as I eased myself onto the board and started paddling. The manatee was moving surprisingly fast and I could no longer see any trace of it so I paddled towards the nearby island of mangroves hoping it had gone in that direction instead of amongst all the moored boats. But I was keeping an eye on the mooring balls, as the folks we met last night – Brian and Penny – told us the manatees would often grab onto the balls and suck off all the accumulated marine growth from the undersides of them, giving you a spectacular view of their face if your mooring ball happened to be the hairiest. The manatee anus must be cast from concrete to be able to withstand the agonizingly painful ring sting that would result from eating a diet of razor-edged clam shells, crispy sea moss, sawgrass, and fossilized shrimp carcasses.
I got lucky. Just fifty feet away from my board I saw him surface again, but this time he came up for a while and I could see his nose then the top of his enormous body arc up and back down into the water, like a prehistoric beast. I paddled parallel to his path, keeping my distance, but staying close enough to have a good look at him. I could see a line of breath bubbles popping out on the surface, so I kept on his track and paddled slowly across the water. He appeared again, blowing out a big breath, then right beside him another hulking form appeared – two manatees! They were swimming side by side, and this time I clearly saw their tails as they plunged back below the surface to scour the bottom for vegetation. I couldn’t believe my eyes…and my luck. I hadn’t brought my camera along, but I wasn’t unhappy, as that allowed me to focus completely on the experience.
The juxtaposition was stark – on one side of me were dozens and dozens of boats, which regularly burn fuel, rip up the seabed with wake, pump shit, piss, and bilge oil into the water, invade marine territories we have no business disturbing, and brandish sharp propellors spinning at 2000 revolutions per minute pulverizing everything in their path. On my other side were two massive and gentle vegetarian sea cows, gliding through the water, eating sea grasses, and somehow surviving in this hostile environment we’d created. Manatees have no natural predators but are severely threatened by humans. Besides boats, whose propellors regularly strike manatees, evidenced by the deep scarring most of them have on their backs, while the unlucky ones die from infection, man-made structures such as docks, dams, fishing line and nets, weirs, locks, and bridges also cause many manatee deaths when they get caught up in these and drown or are squashed. Habitat loss from waterfront building and climate change that drives the loss of sea grass and causes large water temperature fluctuations puts additional pressure on manatees. These are the same curious and humble creatures that are known to approach humans, even allowing them to touch their faces, yearning contact. I felt exceptionally lucky to have seen them, but also sad that we have caused them so much pain and death.
I tailed the manatees for half an hour, then decided to paddle back to the boat as fast as I could, collect Ana, then come back in the dinghy so she could see them. We did just that and just when I thought we had lost their trail, we saw a disturbance on the water and there they were. Ana was so happy to see them, and tried to take a photograph but it was just not possible. We kept our distance and used the dinghy paddles instead of the motor, and spotted them a few more times, but they eventually gave us the slip, so we continued along and took a long and slow ride to explore some of the quieter areas of the bay, which were serene and beautiful.
A long walk was in order so we dinghy’d into shore with our mini-van carrier and a backpack to pick up a few things at the main commercial area of Vero Beach which was a few miles away. We walked up the main bridge crossing the waterway into the marina and bay area and the view was spectacular as the lack of wind provided a glassy water surface. We stopped at the top of the bridge to look for manatees or dolphins. Far away I could see something on the water, and as it approached I first thought it was an alligator, but soon realized it was another manatee! From this height we could see its whole body, its mermaid-like tail, and when it came up for air we could just barely make out its face. I couldn’t believe our luck.
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