Dispatch from Miami, Florida - Glidin' in the Glades

I have spent a lot of time experiencing South Florida over the years and I've had some great adventures along the way. But I've never had that ubiquitous South Florida tourist experience - an air boat ride in the Everglades. Today, as my great aunt used to say, "God willing and weather permitting" that will change.

I'm headed out Tamiami Trail to the site of one of the many companies that offer air boat rides. 

Miami is a sprawling city but as you drive west, urban and suburban development abruptly end and you find yourself in the Everglades. No wonder there are seemingly daily news reports about alligators in swimming pools, school yards, and the kitchen's of people's homes. South Florida is built right up to - and in some cases over - the Everglades. We and the alligators and all the other Everglades critters share the same 'hood.

With all the alligator encounters I've had, I should be used to these creatures. But as we know from past posts, I am not. They scare me. They look at me like they know I'm afraid of them. 

When I see homes set against a canal or a pond in South Florida, I shudder to think of living there. Every time I'd go to the yard to call out for Fluffy the cat (or Junior the kid, for that matter) and not get an immediate response, I'd think the worst.

After you hit the Everglades along Tamiami Trail, buildings are few and far between. Just about all that dots the highway are the tourist places offering an Everglades experience. 

The air boat place I'm headed to is set on the side of the busy road smack in the middle of the Everglades. The place is nice enough, with all the accoutrements of a good tourist attraction - a somewhat cheesy gift shop and a greasy spoon restaurant with fried everything listed on a Coke board. I love it. But in this case, the offerings include gator tots. As if the air boating over their heads doesn't tick off the alligators enough, I'm sure the smell of their brethren being deep fried will.

In the parking lot and everywhere else you wander, there are signs telling you to not bother wild alligators. The signs have an animated picture of an open alligator mouth and a human arm with the fingers separated from the hand. Point taken.

I always get a kick out of signs like these. To me they are some desperate attempt to cheat Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest. They're like the directions painted on London streets at sidewalks telling people to look to the left or right before crossing. How many tourists not used to traffic driving on the left side of London roads got smacked by a London cab or double-decker bus before the authorities said, "We'd better paint warnings on the streets"?. In this case, how many gator-taunting tourists were disunited from a limb before the powers-at-be said, "We'd better put up a sign"?.

When I check in, I am corralled along docks to an area with a variety of tour-ready air boats. When boarding the boat, I am given a pair of bright orange foam ear plugs and told that I must wear them because the boats are noisy. Immediately, I imagine going out on the tour and seeing another boat flipped over with big bite marks on its hull and no sign of anyone - just a bunch of these orange ear plugs floating in the water.

The tour itself is a great experience. Once underway, I finally understand the reason for the air boats. They can glide on top of the shallowest of water because they have no props beneath. It's all about the air power. In places, we are in open water but in others, we seem to skim over the grassy land of the Everglades. 




The area is vast and no buildings are in sight. You have a frontier feeling as you zip around this beautiful place.

By the by, I think KIm Jong-un is on the boat in front of me. Come to think of it, maybe it's not him because I can't see Dennis Rodman. Judge for yourself. Anyhoo, at least his head is blocking the wind.

Of course, the guide slows the boat at different spots to see alligators. At one spot, a gator comes swimming by as if on cue, like some Orlando theme park attraction. But in the relative safety of the boat, the gator is not what strikes me. It's what the guide says. 

We are next to this small outcrop of trees - a crude little island. The guide says that this is called a "hammock" and that Native Americans inhabited small islands like this back in the day.

They escaped forced relocation by government and came here to be left alone. Alone indeed. I can't imagine how desolate it must have been, especially when it was dark, the area was teeming with wildlife, and mosquitoes were the size of birds. Wow.

After the ride, we are invited to roam the park and see a live alligator interaction show. The guy who does the show is engaging but as he handles the alligators, big and small, and tells us how safe it is to handle them if it's done properly, I can't help but notice this bandage on his face and wonder what happened. 

After the show, I continue to explore through a park area with varieties of gators and crocs in pens. They even have the human-eating Nile crocodile that recently has been found in the wilds of South Florida. Lovely. Oh yea, this one's got my number.

As I'm bravely staring this beast down through chain link fencing, I hear an air boat approaching and look up. The air boat is coming in from a tour, just like mine did, and is passing by the grassy area where I am standing. 

With a thump in my stomach, I realize that the area where I am standing is open to the water where the tours go and where the wild alligators are. Without putting too fine a point on it, I am looking at these exotic human-eating specimens penned behind fencing but I am standing in the open Everglades with all the human-eating creatures that call it home. Sure enough, just as my pea brain takes all this in, I see a big alligator taking a stroll on the grass next to the incoming air boat - and he is not behind any fence! Dagnabbit!



As if that isn't enough, to guild the sheer-fear lily, I reel around to avert the threat. As I am turning, I look up and catch sight of a palm tree full of big birds. I squint to see them against the backdrop of the sunlight and realize that it is a flock of vultures, perched right above me. What are they waiting for? Everglades tourist road kill to snack on? I'm so out of here. I'd rather face the crazy wild people of Miami than the crazy wildlife of the Everglades.