Sunday, 12:45 PM - ​Compared to the challenging navigation through The Narrows (brown trail), the paddling became much easier. The strong current caused by the low water levels carried us quickly through Mixon’s Hammock and into the area named The Sill.
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The Suwannee River Sill Recreation Area is a man-made canal built in 1960 with dams to control the water levels. The purpose was to maintain water levels during drought and thereby reduce the chance of wildfires. However, the project failed in that goal, for it had no real effect on the water levels throughout the swamp. However, The Sill is a popular recreation area, primarily for fishing. 

Because the man-made canal was wide and straight, it was also somewhat less interesting than some of the deeper areas of the swamp. Part of the suspense of the cypress forests is the wondering expectation of what may be around the next bend. But on the Sill, the view remains unobstructed for quite a distance, revealing that nothing too exciting is awaiting your arrival. However, some very large gators could be seen diving into the waters as our canoe approached.
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Going up The Sill, the trolling motor was set on the highest speed to battle the current and the wind that were both attempting to impede our passage. Fast flowing streams of rushing water were draining off the prairie into the Sill to further empower the current against our progress. Our going was so slow, at one point we were even overtaken by four walkers on the left bank. 

​Approximately halfway up the Sill, we attempted to follow the fork of the brown trail as it continues towards Cravens Hammock.  I had desired to overnight at the shelter, but was told before our departure that it was not accessible due to low waters. And they were right. Not even a quarter mile off The Sill we encountered low water and downed trees hampering our passage. Not wanting to be beaten, I tried to pull loose a dam of limbs, branches and debris choking the trail. But prying with my oar, all I managed to do was stir a bunch of fire ants into the water and then splash Amanda, arousing her frustration. I gave up the attempt when I accidentally splashed her a second time. 

​We back-tracked the short distance and continued further up The Sill. Our destination: Pine Island. It seemed there must be something there, for someone had posted the GPS coordinates on the internet. The road from the day-use recreation area having ended, the last several miles of The Sill were more secluded from other visitors, but still a wide, unnatural looking, man-made canal. And upon reaching Pine Island, we found… nothing. No place to get out of the canoe and stretch our legs. The canal just came to an end in a shallow pool of Maidencane. We took a few minutes to eat our lunch of summer sausage, cheese whiz and crackers. 

​The sun climbed higher as we ate our lunch, encouraging the gators to take to their sunning spots along the banks. We had noticed many patches of mud and pressed grasses on our journey up The Sill. Now, those same patches were occupied by “The Monsters of The Sill.” The boring Sill had somewhat redeemed itself by presenting us with the spectacle of some really big gators; a few of which made dramatic, tidal-wave producing dives into the water as we passed by. 

Quite quickly we were shut in on either side by branches and bushes that arched up over our heads. The canoe trail began to grow shady, winding back and forth with the current through the vegetation, around cypress trees, over downed limbs and logs. The quickening current was made obvious by the ripples around the corners and bases of the trees; an advantage to paddling, but a disadvantage to navigation. Travelling downstream, the current can overtake steering and often put the canoe in spots we did not desire. Amanda’s greatest frustration with the Okefenokee, this trip and last, was floating into the jagged bushes often tipped in small spider webs with anticipatory arachnids waiting to jump in for a ride. The Narrows was the peak of this frustration. Other than a bird or two crouching hidden amongst the vegetation, there was little wildlife to photograph within the confines of The Narrows. 

​Alligators are often seen floating on the surface of the water, like logs of wood , and are mistaken for such by various animals, which, by this means, they surprise and draw underneath to devour at leisure. They are said also sometimes to form a hole in the bank of a river, below the surface of the water, and there to wait till the fish that are fatigued by the strong current come into the smooth water to rest themselves, when they immediately seize and devour them . But as they are not able to obtain a regular supply of food , from the fear in which they are held by all animals, and the care by which these in general avoid their haunts, they are able to sustain a privation of it for a great length of time. 

A favorite passage from William Bartram's Travels,​ published in 1791.

Sunday, 6:14 PM - Nine hours on the canoe trails of the Okefenokee Swamp! Nine continuous hours in the canoe without a break to stretch our legs or use the bathroom. Nine hours of pulling on the paddles in the mid-day sun. Tiring, but I wouldn’t give up the experience for anything.

After a there-and-back-again paddle to the Sill, which included the treacherous navigation through the Narrows and our upstream struggle on Mixon’s Hammock, we made it back to Billy’s Lake toward evening. Back to calm waters and the serenity of roosting Cormorants, drumming Pileated Woodpeckers, and alligators attempting to soak in the last rays of the setting sun. The daylight was beginning to fade, the trolling motor battery was beginning to fade, and we were beginning to fade. But we arrived before dark. A full day on the blackwater swamp.​

Sunday, 3:41 PM - As our canoe progressed through the tight foliage of The Narrows (brown trail), we came upon a comical scene. A goofy Cormorant sad mid-stream on a stump, heaving and coughing. As we watched, he puked a large fish out of his mouth and it splashed into the water. Being free of his tracheal obstruction, he flew off over our heads, leaving the floating dead fish in the water for us to pass. 

Sunday, 3:45 PM - The journey along the wide canal known as The Sill was quite easy, especially with an electric trolling motor aiding our progress.  But as we turned east back up the brown trail, our trouble began. That wonderful downstream current we enjoyed this morning through Mixon’s Hammock was now a forceful torrent impeding our way back to camp.

Small but forceful streams of water were pouring off the prairie adding to the current. Amanda kept the trolling motor on the highest setting and it barely held us in one spot. I lunged with all the strength of my shoulders and biceps to press us forward, but progress was slow and laborious. It was also getting late.

The thoughts of not making it back to Billy’s Lake before dark were becoming an ominous presence in my mind. When we were passed by some barefoot fishermen in a gas powered john boat, I desired to ask for a tow. “You’re going to have a tough go against this current”, was all the help they could muster. Such toil, and we still had the passage through the dreaded Narrows ahead.

I got quite a workout as I pulled and pulled the paddle against the current. Needless to say, I have no photos along this stretch of our journey, for anytime I quit paddling even to catch my breath, we immediately were pulled backward. And only an occasional alligator watched as we labored past.
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But we finally made it through the prairie into the Narrows, and things actually improved. The narrowing and twisting of the channel slowed the current and the trolling motor carried us along without paddling. Navigation by trolling motor was easier up-stream! Amanda did an incredible job of steering through the Narrows on our return journey. 

The larger alligators are usually easier to spot, so my daughter and I are always on the lookout for the cute juvenile and baby alligators hiding among the spatterdock lily pads and floating peat mats of the Okefenokee Swamp. And it is always a true joy to hear a baby gator chirp! 

​Generally, the young alligators stay with the mother for one year, but they can remain in the pod for up to three years. Staying in pods helps protect the young alligators from predators such as raccoons, large fish, birds of prey, and even other alligators. Large male alligators have been known to predate the young. Baby alligators will chirp to alert their mother for protection when threatened. 

​A group of juvenile alligators with a mother is called a pod. Sometimes a pod will consist of a mixed group of juveniles from several alligator nests. These baby gators stay within their pod for up to three years, close to their adult mother who ferociously protects them from predators such as raccoons and raptors… even paddlers in a canoe nearing for a closer look! Even adult male alligators will snatch up a baby gator. 

In an 1825 oration, early American poet ​Charles Sprague beautifully laments the  extirpation of the American Indian that once roamed the lands like the Okefenokee: 

​Every time I dip my oars into the blackwaters of the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge, I am overwhelmed: overwhelmed by silence, and overwhelmed by wild… overwhelmed by immensity, and overwhelmed by the micro. There is so much to the Okefenokee Swamp that, like the Grand Canyon, it just cannot be adequately described by even the best narratives or photography. As C.T. Trowell quoted in one of his books, "...it is not possible to convey the personality of this overwhelming place by word or picture. You must go to the Okefenokee to really understand its majesty." 

Of course, the main spectacle of paddling the Okefenokee Swamp is the alligators. Huge beasts and kings of their domain. But the swamp also holds birds galore. From small passerines to large wading birds, if you keep your eyes open, there is plenty to see besides alligators! 

​Excerpt from the 1926 History of the Okefenokee Swamp by AS McQueen and Hamp Mizell:

As the sun was setting, groups of Little Blue Herons roosted high up in the trees. The Little Blues seemed much more abundant than on our 2015 trip, but aiming my new super-telephoto lens up into the trees took a bit of getting used to. And when a pair of Wood Ducks flew by, I knew I really needed some more practice! This first day was going to be more of a photography practice run. I wasn’t quite used to handling this heavier Sigma lens and shooting moving subjects from a moving canoe.

Also, I brought along two camera bodies. One with the zoom, the other with a wide angle lens. But I felt like I was fumbling around, unsure of which to shoot and when. I just felt too rushed, always swapping cameras. Being too concerned about getting the shot, I just wasn’t having fun. I think it also lead to frustration and boredom for Amanda as well.

I decided upon a tactic of using primarily one lens for a period of time, and then another later. Except for the morning of the final day, the remainder of the trip I shot primarily with the 150-600mm super-telephoto unless in one of the more constricted areas.