On a paddling trip with kids through Everglades National Park, the rewards are worth the risks
This story appeared here in National Parks Magazine.
Two strokes into our seven-day paddling trip through Everglades National Park in Florida, a huge snaggle-toothed crocodile slid into the black water 10 feet away from us.
“I think maybe I’m scared,” murmured Talon, our 3-year-old son. Next to our family’s canoe, his 5-year-old friend, Willow, nodded in agreement from the front of her dad’s kayak.
I knew I was scared — and not just of crocodiles. As my husband, Rob, steered us through a maze of mangroves, I kept an eye out for pythons, spiders and potential storms. My body buzzed with adrenaline.
We emerged from the narrow canal into Whitewater Bay, the park’s largest inland body of water. The afternoon wind picked up, and the aptly named bay filled with choppy waves that rocked our canoe. It would have been worse without our outriggers; we had attached the small plastic stabilizers, figuring they would keep a squirmy toddler from tipping the boat. Pulling the brim of my hat low against the sun and stiff breeze, I dug my paddle deeper in the murky water and cursed myself for agreeing with Rob’s suggestion that it would be “fun” to spend a week in the remote backwaters of the largest subtropical wilderness in the U.S.
In my nervousness, I barked constant commands to our son, who was perched on the cooler behind me: “Sit on your bottom!” “Hands inside the boat!” “Don’t you dare take off that life jacket!” Talon, who already had dozens of family boating expeditions under his belt, yawned in response, lulled by the warm sun.
Rob and I were intrepid travelers before we had Talon, and we decided to integrate him into our adventures from the get-go. He’d already been backpacking, sailing, rafting and skiing in several states and a handful of countries. When my friends ask if it’s hard traveling with a tiny tot, I tell them that, for me, it’s easier than staying home and sacrificing the lifestyle I love. Though it’s certainly more complicated to bring our son along on outdoor escapades, Talon always learns and thrives during our trips. Once we’re out in the wilderness, it feels as if it’s totally worth the effort.
Even though I was a seasoned adventure mom, the Everglades were foreign territory to me. In our home state of Montana, nothing with giant teeth lives in the water. I’d struggled mightily over whether it was wise to bring a toddler into the swamps, wavering on whether the potential risks would be worth the possible rewards.
Before we launched, the kids had played with squirt guns on the dock as the adults jigsawed gear into the boats. Fresh water took up most of the space and was the limiting factor for how long we could stay out in the brackish Everglades. We had to carry one gallon per person per day — a hefty 160 pounds of water in our canoe. It was hot, so before we launched I asked the children to squirt me, too. It seemed we’d lucked out with the weather — the forecast promised sunny skies and highs in the 80s all week. Then we buckled our life jackets, wedged ourselves into the two small crafts and pushed off the dock.
Talon grabbed his small orange paddle, banging my head in his eagerness to propel the boat. I distracted him from “helping” by starting a game of “I Spy.” Because Talon preferred sitting closer to me and Rob was steering and navigating, it was my job to keep Talon both safe and entertained.
Read the whole story + tips for a trip to the Everglades >
