Where a river journey met its first obstacle
On September 19, 2011, Sean Fitzgibbon and I began our Great Calusa Blueway expedition from Caloosahatchee Regional Park near Alva, Florida. We were traveling downstream, with Hickey Creek on our first day’s itinerary and many miles still ahead. Our first real interruption came at W. P. Franklin Lock and Dam.
We could not pass through the lock that day. The boats and equipment had to go around it. That was our first portage, and a reminder that a blue line on a map never tells the entire story of a river.
The original expedition dispatch records 20.1 miles from Caloosahatchee Regional Park to Rock Creek Resort, including the Hickey Creek detour. Read the original September 19, 2011 report, posted by Chad.
What paddlers should know before going
W. P. Franklin Lock is part of the Okeechobee Waterway system. A lock is a working navigation and water management structure, not an informal kayak launch or a place to assume that a carry around the facility is permitted. Conditions, operations, security requirements, and access arrangements can change.
Before planning a passage, consult the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for current lock hours, vessel procedures, closures, and whether passage or any alternative access is available for your particular craft. Check current navigation charts, weather, river conditions, and local access rules. Do not infer a legal or safe portage from our 2011 experience.
The archival Franklin Lock document
View the W. P. Franklin Lock and Dam PDF preserved with our 2011 expedition materials.
Historical document notice: This file dates from the expedition archive and has not been verified as current guidance. Do not rely on it alone for modern access, navigation, portage, or operating information.
The Tent Poles That Never Went Missing
Sean and I were actually excited when we reached the lock. We were laughing as we unloaded the boats, taking the gear out first, then hauling the kayaks up the hill, across a concrete path, and down the other side. Once the boats were there, we walked back up and around the lock for our gear. Up the hill again, a few loads at a time. Sean carried his things. I carried mine. By the time it was done, the excitement had acquired a good deal of sweat.
I spread my equipment beside my kayak and began checking it. I wanted to make sure everything had come across. One item was missing: my tent poles. That was not a small matter. I had a bivy bag and a hammock along as backup shelters, because we had packed far more than we needed for this expedition. Still, I had brought a tent, and I intended to keep all its pieces.
Back up the hill I went, and down again, retracing the route. I looked along the concrete path. I looked in the water. Sean and I spent another fifteen minutes searching for those poles. Eventually I was beginning to accept that I had lost them.
Then Sean let out a laugh. Not a polite little chuckle, but one of those big, bold laughs that tells you somebody has found the answer before you have. My tent poles were in the bow of my kayak. The one place I had not looked.
I was relieved and exhausted, and we both laughed. We loaded the boats again and continued down the river. That is the sort of detail that disappears from a mileage log but stays with you for fifteen years. We had made it around the lock. The tent poles had never left the boat.
For the expedition’s original dated reports and photographs, visit The Great Calusa Blueway Paddling Trail Expedition.
Why the portage mattered
Long distance kayaking rewards preparation but also requires adaptation. You can pack the boat correctly, study the route, and still arrive at a barrier that demands a different plan. That is not a failure of expedition travel. It is expedition travel.
Our first day moved from the quieter water of Hickey Creek back onto the Caloosahatchee and through that unexpected interruption before we made camp. The day was a useful lesson in reading the landscape rather than merely following an itinerary.
Follow the expedition
For the complete day by day archive, including the journey toward Pine Island, Charlotte Harbor, and Cayo Costa, read The Great Calusa Blueway Paddling Trail Expedition. The original reports are preserved as a record of what we experienced and what our shore correspondent knew at the time.
Editorial note: Verify current Corps contact information, access conditions, and the archived PDF’s contents before publication. This is a historical account, not a current route authorization.
