The story you are about to read is 100% true and was first published in the "Formatters Ink". Over the years, I have been camping at least 50 times at a large variety of locations, a dozen of which required canoeing with gear. Until this trip, the only problems that have occurred were some minor scrapes, a few small cuts and the worst is when Sherry ran out of beer (you would have to know Sherry to truly understand). However, this trip was another story. With this in mind, let the adventure begin.

Town Greets Adventurers
It was a complete surprise to Captain Nemo and his band of yellow submariners to find that the entire town of Arcadia showed up to greet them Wednesday night. The towns people apparently heard that Nemo and his crew would be spending the night prior to their departure at the boat ramp in Arcadia. The locals brought enough beer and firewood that you would have thought that this was a final farewell (perhaps they knew something we didn't). Other than the sub zero temperatures, a great time was had by all. That is until the party was over ... when us lucky travelers froze our buns off until morning.

Ten Thousand Dollar Question.
Will it or won't it? As the gear came off the bus on Thursday morning, it was asked many times, "Will it or won't it fit". It was a question that was not answered until the last piece of gear was loaded and the canoes actually departed from the launch site. I would like all of you faithful readers to take my word on this one. Don't argue and don't debate. If you find yourself asking "will it or won't it fit" go straight to Ma Bell and call for assistance, do not pass go and do not collect $200 (or more) from the river bottom. Start eliminating gear immediately and do not stop until you can say "I have more room left than I know what to do with". Trust me, I can think of plenty of things you don't want to do with the extra space, like put gear in it.

Muddy Mariners or Bathing Boaters
What happens when a canoeist tries stepping out of the canoe in water that is more than a few feet deep? Someone in our group found out when they tried to free themselves from a submerged log by exiting the boat. Next thing they learned, was that everything else exited the boat as well. For those of you that have never tipped a canoe loaded with camping gear, it really gives you a sinking feeling when you realize that your only choices are to throw everything you have into a nearby mud puddle or let it float down stream. Also the next time you think everything that can go wrong already has, think again, our fun was only beginning.

Look Mommy They Live Here.
We were forced to stop 1 ½ hours into our trip because our overloaded canoes could not handle the extra water weight. A large amount of lightweight but highly water absorbent gear had been loaded into the first canoe that swamped (yes I did say first). In order to compensate for the extra weight carried by Gilligan, we had put a lot of our collective clothes and sleeping bags into his canoe. Hanging everything out to dry required lots of makeshift clotheslines. By now it was noon, so we decided to stay overnight on this small grass mound surrounded by mud flats. The comments made by other canoeists who passed by our site included everything from "Look Mommy they live here" to "Hey, did you guys leave anything at home?"

Gilligan's Mound aka Laundry Lane
This actually turned out to be a relatively nice site as long as you didn’t want to leave the mound. We had arrived shortly after the rainy season and the high water marks on the trees on top of the mound were 8 feet off the ground and the mound was another 5 feet above the current water level. As a result the entire surrounding area was saturated with water and finding dry firewood was difficult. The mechanic and I found a small dead tree that was very far away from our site. We decided to tie ropes to it and hauled it through the mud like mules rather than making several trips . When we finally got back with our tree which provided enough firewood for the whole weekend, Gilligan started to brag about the single large branch he had found. His 5 foot branch was about 4 inches in diameter and weight less than a pound. (Be careful who you choose to camp with.)

Under Attack
Shortly after we got the first fire of the weekend started, we came under attack by an army of angry biting carpenter ants. This was an unexpected surprise. Until now, we had been relatively insect free since the weather was too cool even for mosquitoes. The last thing we needed was for a bunch of mad ants to start eating holes in tents as well as people. Fortunately we were able to discover and eliminate the problem. The one piece of firewood retrieved by Gilligan was not rotted as we first thought. It was lightweight from being mostly hollowed out by the army of carpenter ants that had made it their home. Fortunately there were no other close calls for the rest of our stay on the mound. Unless you count fresh boar tracks that appeared sometime during the night - right under the hammock I was sleeping in. At least the hog had the courtesy not to wake me up.

Quiet Weekend
Our stay on the mound was actually quite pleasant. A man calling himself "The Mayor of the River" gave airboat rides to all of the kids. Thanksgiving dinner was a real feast consisting of real turkey breast baked in a Dutch oven over the fire, roasted corn on the cob, fresh biscuits and the usual fixings. The only game of horseshoes that was played that weekend was unique. When a shoe was thrown it was guaranteed not to roll regardless of how it struck (thanks to the mud). Finishing that game by aiming flashlights at the stake made it even more interesting. Carefully framed by wet logs, the nightly campfires could be considered works of art. Yes indeed, our time on the mound was great!

Gator Sighting
With more than 7 hours of canoeing left, we hit the water early Saturday morning and almost tipped a canoe leaving shore . A little more than an hour into our trip we spotted our first gator. A baby 2 foot gator was sunning on a log and never even moved as we went by. Some of our group was a little upset by this sighting (it’s a good thing that most of the local gators were doing a much better job of hiding.).

Shipwrecked
When my canoe got caught on a submerged branch I figured it was not a problem. I have been in this situation more than a few times. Even with an overloaded canoe it is not a problem. Frequently you can simply back up or turn the canoe and get free. Not this time. Sometimes you can use your paddle and push off a log. This is usually not a difficult task for me and one I have done in far more treacherous waters than the lazy Peace River. Unfortunately, I was not accustomed to having a new and young canoeist with me in an overloaded boat. Probing the water with a paddle I found the branch and gave a gentle push. Knowing what happened to Gilligan and having just seen a gator, my young partner instinctively reacted when she felt the canoe move and overcompensated by leaning to far. Next thing I knew, we were both in the water. I had one hand on the canoe, which at this point was a full foot beneath the surface (not a good sign) and my canoe partner was in the water behind me screaming. Without a moments thought I let go of the canoe and got my partner to shore. She was never in any real danger. Like all children on our water trips, she was wearing her life vest. She also knew how to swim and the current was not strong. But after unexpectedly getting dumped into the frigid water just after seeing her first gator caused her to scream first and ask questions later. The fact that she could not touch bottom and the shore was steep with a covering of snarled roots, just made things worse. I really can’t blame her for not thinking before reacting. After all, if I had thought before reacting, I would have tipped the canoe completely upside down before letting go of it to rescue her. This would have allowed the heavy items to drop straight to the bottom where they could have been recovered and the empty canoe would have floated. By the time I got her on shore, the canoe had drifted down stream some unknown distance and submerged deep enough that it could not be seen through the dark water.

Marooned
Our group with 5 adults, 3 kids, enough gear to overload 2 1/2 canoes and only two canoes (the only thing Gilligan did right all weekend was to stop down stream of my wreck site and corral all of my floating gear as it was drifting down stream). Yes indeed, we were now up a dirty stream without a paddle. Well, we saved the paddle but had nothing to paddle in. In addition to the canoe I also lost a brand new trolling motor, horseshoe stakes, two marine batteries, the tripod for one lantern, a campfire grill and three sandwich cookers.

Saved by the Bell (Southern Bell that is)
A couple who had witnessed our disaster used their cell phone to call the Canoe Outpost, who in turn would put another canoe in up river from us and meet us. While we waited, the Mechanic and I took an empty canoe down stream a little ways to see if we could find the Boy Scout campgrounds that TL’s boy friend was supposed to be staying at. We figured that if we could find him we would not have to make the trip all the way to the Canoe Outpost with all of our gear. Alas, the campground just down river was the wrong one. To top it off, the current paddling back upstream was far worse than we anticipated.

Rescued by Airboat
Half way back to the wreck site we were picked up by John of the Canoe Outpost who was on his way to meet us in an airboat. He figured it was to too late to launch another canoe and he believed he could find and recover our canoe instead. We poled the entire area to no avail. Finally we talked John into taking the women and kids back with him on the airboat. The three men would tie the canoes together so they would carry more without tipping and we would paddle back. To make it even easier John volunteered to meet us at the wooden bridge about 45 minutes down stream and take us out early. This would save us at least 3 or 4 hours of canoeing, most of which would have been in the dark.

Rescuing Someone Else for a Change
While loading up gear we stopped three times to help others who tipped their canoes, not 20 feet from where we were beached. The first two couples were grateful but we should have let the last one sink. He acted like we were the ones responsible for his predicament in the first place. In clothes that were wet from rescuing others we finally set off on the last leg of our trip. What a mistake it was to let Gilligan take a seat in the rear. I figured this would be his one chance to really work during this trip. It never occurred to me that I was going to have to work even harder to steer because of him.

Rescued by John Boat
Just as we arrived at the wooden bridge, John pulls up in a small john boat (no pun intended). The bridge is on private property and John was unable to contact the owner about getting access. He decided to meet us and tow us back which was safer than canoeing in the dark (which occurred 30 minutes later). The ride back was better than paddling but still was miserable. The wind from being on a boat plus wet clothes combined with temperatures in the sixties made us feel like ice cubes by the time we got back.

Rescued by a Tow Truck
That’s right. With only 30 minutes remaining out of a three hour drive, one of our two vehicles broke down. We had to get it towed home. You think I am ever going canoe camping again? You betcha. I went down the same river two weeks later with scuba gear to look for my canoe and gear but met with no success. I have been back twice since then just to camp and I am planning another trip for Thanksgiving this year. I am not sure why, but Terry Lynn has vowed never to get in another canoe again. My nephew sat perfectly still on his first plane fight because he was afraid of tipping the plane. The Mechanic is willing to go on another canoe campout but not with kids. His daughters are willing to canoe but not with camping gear. And for some strange reason Gilligan was never invited on another trip, canoe or otherwise. I Never did find my canoe but the junk pile on the bottom indicates that the branch that took me out did the same to a number of others. Of course, I now have a nice walking stick as a memento and nobody will ever be bothered by that branch again.

Reward
If anyone ever hears of a yellow Indian River canoe being recovered from the Peace River please let me know. It was registered and marked with my registration number.

Write the Captain
Some of you may recognize parts of this story from your participation, or from the rumors and stories that have circulated since then. If so, please drop me an email and let me know where and what you heard. Maybe some of you were even on the river that same Thanksgiving weekend in 1995.

Special Thanks
Our group wishes to give special thanks to the following individuals for their participation and assistance.

John, who works for the Canoe Outpost for all of his assistance with the airboat and john boat in addition to his willingness to dive in the river with nothing but a mask (and shorts) to look for the canoe even though it was just a short distance from where a large alligator is frequently seen.

The unidentified couple with the cell phone, who placed the first rescue call.

The Canoe Outpost, who rented us two of the three canoes and provided transport up river as well as both providing the john boat and air boat used in the rescue. Their understanding and cooperation has been well noted. There is at least one other canoe rental on the river but our group is and will remain devoted to the Canoe Outpost

And last but not least the Tow truck driver.