ST JOHNS RIVER, ASTOR & THE NEPTUNE STAR

It wasn’t difficult to feel thousands of years slip away in the morning mists along St. Johns River.   Like a woman with an aura of mystery about her, the river’s quiet beauty harbored fascinating secrets. 

This is the watered down version of a tell all. I know, I'm soooo bad!

I never could keep a secret; I’m here today to tell all.  But remember, you didn’t hear it from me.

It was a cold January morning by Florida standards, the temperature hovering near forty degrees, when Jimmy and I climbed aboard the Neptune Star and commenced our 90-minute tour of this American Heritage River, one of only fourteen such rivers in the United States.  No, don't ask about the other thirteen!

Ocala National Forest covers all of the western shore along this section of the St. Johns River.

We departed Williams Landing in Astor, Florida (yes, the famous New York Astor family) with Ernie at the helm.

The state of Florida is home to over 7,700 lakes.

Captain Ernie, font of all water wisdom on St. Johns.

We had lunch at the Blackwater Inn after our tour.

It was no mystery Ernie was unabashedly enamored of this aging beauty.  He seemed to appreciate every nook and cranny of this river, every piece of her past he’d shared, and then some.  A man after my own heart!  Okay, maybe he was after a big tip.  

Years ago, that Spanish moss was used as stuffing in the seats of Henry Ford's new automobiles.

More than 100,000 years ago, much of the St. Johns River was an arm of the Atlantic Ocean.   In time (lots and lots of time), as the ocean levels dropped, barrier islands prevented water from flowing east into the ocean, leaving it trapped in flat valleys.  The water slowly meandered northward for 310 miles, making St. Johns one of only a few rivers in North American that flows north.  But you didn’t hear it from me!

History will tell you (although Ernie was very forthcoming, too) that St. Johns was one of four names given to these intracoastal waters over the course of approximately 600 years, beginning with Florida’s first inhabitants. 

The Timucuan Indians originally named St. Johns the river Welaka, which means river of lakes.  As the river flows north, it collects water from marshes and underground springs, forming countless lakes, among those Lake Hell ‘n’ Blazes (referencing what the boatmen and fishermen yelled as they navigated though the floating islands of macrophytes, or muck and weeds), Sawgrass Lake, Lake Washington, Lake Winder, Lake Poinsett, Ruth Lake, Puzzle Lake, Lake Jesup, Lake Monroe and Lake George (to mention just a few).  Florida has no less than 7,700 lakes, all told.  It certainly makes lakefront property in these parts very reasonable. 

In the 1500s, Spanish seamen renamed the river Rio do Corrientes, or river of currents.  In 1562 – almost 50 years before the Jamestown Settlement – the French established Fort Caroline  on a high bluff overlooking the river they called Riviere de Mai, or river of May, given they’d arrived on May 1.    

The Spanish recaptured the fort, slaughtered the French and renamed the river, San Mateo, honoring the saint whose feast followed the day they captured the river.

Eventually, the river was renamed Rio de San Juan after a Catholic mission near its mouth named San Juan del Puerto.  The English translated that name into the St. John’s River. 

Certainly one of the more convoluted family trees I've come across lately.

This slice of forgotten Florida between Lake Dexter and Lake George is prized for its bass fishing;

I could have sworn I heard somebody holler, "Kiss my bass," when we passed up these guys.

appreciated for its abundance of wildlife – manatees, alligators, egrets,

It was a perfect morning for reflecting on the beauty of all the wildlife.

its ibis, blue herons;

I hunch my shoulders just like that when I'm cold, too.

its ospreys, turkeys, cranes, deer and anhinga.    

Showoff!

I have it from a very reliable source (you guessed it; Ernie!) that the bald eagle population in Florida is second only to that of Alaska.  Who knew!  Furthermore, as long as I’m divulging secrets, did you know nearly 70% of Florida’s bald eagles nest along the St. Johns River?    

No eagles the morning we went through, despite all the signs of their presence.

There were plenty of hungry-looking vultures willing to pose for pictures, but the bald eagles were keeping a low profile the day we went through. 

According to my sources, this tree is close to 600 years old.

The locals were keeping a low profile, too.  Lots of wildlife, but the homes along the banks of the river were quiet testaments to mankind’s presence. 

Did you know palm trees are not indigenous to Florida?

I bet this one lake house belongs to a Mary Kay rep.

Plenty of pelicans at home.

Retirement is looking pretty peaceful along the river.

Many of those homes are part of the town of Astor, as in the wealthy New York Astors.  In 1874, William Backhouse Astor, Jr. purchased over 12,000 acres of land along the St. Johns River and began playing monopoly.  When you have the bank, the church, the hotels and the steamboats in your pocket, one doesn’t really need a board game for entertainment.   

He named his town Manhattan, than encouraged all his rich friends and acquaintances to come play.  For a time they did, until the steamboats gave way to progress and the railroad diverted the commerce and the people.  In 1884, the town was renamed Astor, but that recognition didn’t deter grandson William Vincent Astor from selling his inheritance in 1912.   

Today, snowbirds that winter in this portion of the St. Johns River are called half-Astors; but you didn’t hear it from me.

Wow, this one floats my boat.

Fishing is another huge draw for the St. Johns River.  The St Johns is home to 183 species of fish, 55 of which appear in the main stem of the river.  Because portions of the river are very brackish, the river has been known to harbor Atlantic stingrays in Lake Washington in the upper basin; ocean worms, snails, and white-fingered mud crabs have been found far upriver where tidal influences are rare. 

In contrast, some American eels live in the St. Johns and spawn in the Sargasso Sea in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.  In Jacksonville, where the final 35 miles of the St. Johns River runs before turning back out to sea, much of the river is part seawater.  Dolphins and sharks have been seen in her waters around Jacksonville as well as mullet, flounder, shad and blue crabs.  Most migrate from the ocean to freshwater springs upriver to spawn.  

The largest king fishing tournament in the U.S. is held on a St. Johns tributary where sport fishers come for the king mackerel, cobia, dolphin and Wahoo.  

Just another day in paradise, albeit a bit chillier than usual.

Meandering down St. Johns, Florida’s longest river (no, we didn't tackle all 310 miles that morning), it was easy to understand how the first permanent European colony in what would become the United States was the last U.S. territory on the east coast to be developed.  Well into the 20th century, much of this peninsula of unparalleled beauty resting just above sea level on a foundation of limestone, dolomite, clay and sand had proved uninhabitable.   

Add one too many forty degree days to the mix and the locals, if not the snowbirds, might begin to whisper uninhabitable again. 

Can you tell my teeth are chattering?

Jimmy doesn't like to travel without his blankie.

Jimmy and I weren’t complaining (well, not any more than the rest of the passengers), not with polar vortexes back home taking the temperature down to single digits and then some. 

No big secret, really; life is always a matter of perspective, St. Johns River a great place to see this wonderful world with new eyes.