In short: We put in at Kingfisher Landing for a 12-mile paddle to Maul Hammock in the Okefenokee. Two and a half miles in we were down to six inches of water with nine or ten more miles of the same ahead. The math did not add up, so we called an audible, drove to the St. Marys, and camped on a sandbar. Tarp line, a first fire off a striker, some good fish, and Vienna sausage sandwiches when the sloppy Joes got left at the house.
We rolled into Kingfisher Landing a hair late, 10:20 for a 10:00 cutoff, unloaded and were on the water by 11 for a 12-mile push to Maul Hammock. It was our first time in this section, and the canal ran straight out and disappeared into the swamp, a beautiful launch. But by mile two the water started getting shallow, and by mile three we were scraping bottom. It was a low-water year in a bad drought. Two and a half miles in and less than half a foot deep in spots, with the water only getting shallower the deeper we went. Six inches deep and nine, maybe ten miles still ahead. That math just does not add up. So we called an audible. No big conversation about it, we just turned around, paddled back out, and loaded the canoe.
We drove to the St. Marys because we know it holds water, paddled upstream a couple of bends, and found a sandbar about two miles up. Big trees hanging over one end for shade, open sky on the other, a clean flat spot for the tent. That is what you want in a sandbar camp. Tina ran the tent while I strung a guy line from tree to tree and sloped a tarp back to give us a back and a top. Camp was set in about 20 minutes, maybe less. Then Tina ran the Uberleben fire striker on her own for the first time, with cotton balls soaked in Vaseline for tinder, and had fire in just a few strikes. That is the right way to learn something. You just do it.
The river gave it up all afternoon. Bluegill, redbreast, a channel cat, one after another right through sunset. Then supper time came and we found out the sloppy Joes were sitting in the refrigerator back at the house. We had them planned and everything. No problem. That is exactly why you always carry a can of Vienna sausage or smoked sausage as a backup. We made Vienna sausage sandwiches, some Cheetos, and the old trusty peanut butter and jelly, said our blessing, and ate good. A subscriber even paddled by in the dark, a nice young man and his son testing a boat for a bass tournament. We fished a little after supper, the tide changed and the bite shut off, so we called it a night at nine. Plans fell apart, and the trip was still a good one.
Reading low water, calling an audible, sandbar tarp setups, and packing a backup meal. It is all in the Canoe Camping Playbook.
Read the Canoe Camping PlaybookIt means changing the plan on the water when conditions do not match the map. Two and a half miles into a shallow canal with nine or ten more miles of the same ahead, we turned around, drove to the St. Marys, and camped there instead. Same trip, different water.
Look for a clean, level sandbar with good trees for a tarp line and some shade. We ran a guy line tree to tree, sloped a tarp for a back and a top, pitched the tent on the flat, and had camp set in about 20 minutes.
Build a tinder nest, put your spark down into it, and blow it to flame. We used an Uberleben striker with cotton balls soaked in Vaseline, and it caught in a few strikes, even for a first-timer running it on her own.
It is a no-cook backup that never lets you down. We forgot the sloppy Joes at the house, so supper became Vienna sausage sandwiches, Cheetos, and peanut butter and jelly. Always pack a shelf-stable backup so a forgotten meal never ruins the night.
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