Wednesday, 3:30 PM - After our hike on Billy’s Island, we rowed back toward the Stephen C Foster State Park campground. Even though it was early spring, the sun was still high and bright. It became quite hot sitting in the open sun of the canoe. Our throats became parched as we toiled at the oars, for we had finished all of our water while hiking on Billy's Island. 

When confined to a canoe, there is no escaping the heat of the sun, especially if out on one of the lakes or open prairies so common in the Okefenokee. I made a mental note (and later added it to my packing checklist) to bring plenty of water and sunscreen on future excursions. Even though surrounded by water, we thirsted. I have read that the tanin-stained waters are a bit bitter possibly contaminated with protozoa and bacteria. 

As we contineud to toil across Billy's Lake toward "home", the heat had sequestered most of the wildlife out of sight into the shade of the cypress trees. In the hotter afternoons, most of the alligators lay fully or partially submerged in the cool waters and the photography opportunities are fewer. However, we cruised past a few gators and a fishing Cormorant. Being insufficiently cooled only by our own sweat, we were a bit jealous as we watched the Cormorant dive and swim in the cool, refreshing waters. 

Thankfully, Hamp Mizell's words were prophetic in this passage from the 1926 book, History of the Okefenokee Swamp, when he wrote of the restoration of the Okefenokee after the intense stripping of the timber from the entire area:

An Okefenokee Swamper story as told by Owen Smith in the journals of naturalist Francis Harper, 1929:

Swamp Citizens – Drought Relief
As large, voracious predators at the top of the food chain, we might think that alligators do nothing but devour their fellow creatures that inhabit the swamp. And it is only the sense, swiftness or camouflage that keeps the alligator from causing the extinction of all in its path. But this stereotype is not necessarily the case. Alligators actually do quite a bit to help the other swamp creatures survive.

Many swamps are subject to the frequent ebbs and flows of drought and flood. It is during the periods of low water that alligators are most helpful. As part of their life history, gators move a good bit of earth. They tear up aquatic vegetation and construct “runs” and trails, and also dig out ponds. As water levels decrease and the swamp dries up, often the only water remaining is within these “gator holes.”

According to Kelby Ouchley in his book American Alligator – Ancient Predator in the Modern World, “alligators use their snout, front legs, and tail to excavate ponds called alligator holes. Ranging in size from 8 to 50 feet in diameter, they are often dug down to the shallow limestone bedrock.”  
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Some populations of fish might disappear if it weren’t for the water-retaining constructions of the alligator. Hydrophilic plant species requiring wet soil can still thrive near gator trails as the rest of the habitat desiccates.  Even the larger mammals and birds gather around the gator holes for refreshment during prolonged dry spells.
Their drought relief engineering shows that the American Alligator is a good Swamp Citizen! 

In 1851, the American songwriter Stephen C. Foster sang of the Okefenokee’s Suwannee River as “home” in the song, Old Folks at Home. And over 150 years later, my daughter and I are calling the Stephen C. Foster State Park our home-away-from-home! After a full day in the hot sun, and after toiling across Billy’s Lake against the wind, we finally arrived back at the campground. Biased by our dry and parched lips, we ate “the best ice cream sandwiches we’ve ever tasted” at the registration office and headed back to our tent.

When the rain ceased, we enjoyed a can of clam chowder (everything tastes better when you’re camping) and went for another walk to avoid the mosquitoes that inevitably attack when you sit still for even a moment. ​We braved the gnats on the boardwalk; sat with  “Sophie” the resident alligator a few minutes, spotted a snake at the boat ramp, and smiled at the deer that casually fed around the cabins. We ended the night in our tent, continuing our battleship tournament before turning in on this slightly more warm and humid night. ​Like Stephen C Foster, this is "home sweet home"! ​

​Before becoming protected in the 1960's, alligators were hunted to near extinction for their skins. The following is a headline from an 1875 newspaper. Thankfully the "Okefenokee Alligator Farm" vision never became a reality, for there probably would have been only a lot of "harvesting" and very little management. 

In exploring the swamps of Georgia and Florida in the 1700’s the naturalist William Bartram stated, “the alligators were in such incredible numbers, and so close together from shore to shore, that it would have been easy to have walked across on their heads, had the animals been harmless.” Although they may not be as numerous as in Bartram’s day, there were still plenty of gators to see on our short guided boat boat ride across Billy's Lake. ​Biologists estimate about 12,000 alligators reside throughout the entire Okefenokee. 

​At one point, our guide pulled the boat especially close to one large gator and encouraged my daughter to the front to get a closer photo.  While she was perched on the bow of the boat, the guide kept the boat slowly moving forward until the gator gave a huge splash while simultaneously turning and submerging. Amanda was just as quickly back in her seat at the rear of the boat! When she got her courage back up, she was able to get near the front of the boat again and got a humorous shot of a gator “hiding” under a lily pad. ​

An excerpt from William Bartram's Travels​ published in 1791.

Of course, every thick brown snake spotted by visitors in the Okefenokee is a venomous Cottonmouth, or Water Moccasin (note the sarcasm!). I must admit, the Water Snakes (Genus Nerodia) do bear more similarities to the Cottonmouth than most snake species. The Water Snakes, like Cottonmouths, are a dark color, have thick bodies and roughly keeled scales. I can understand how those with just casual experience with snakes might be confused. So I cut them a break and try not to act too offended!

The US Fish and Wildlife Service lists four species of  Water Snake within the refuge. Although they are not venomous, I wouldn’t call them totally “harmless.” They can really put up a good fight of striking, hissing and musking... but this only happens to the people that try to grab them! If you keep your distance, they generally lie perfectly still or make and escape.

The Plain-bellied, or Red-bellied Water Snake (Nerodia erythrogaster) is a handsome serpent found throughout the refuge. They are common in wetter habitats throughout the southeastern United States. Their bellies are without markings and range from a rich red to a pale yellow.

The majority of the time, the only thing visitors see of the Okefenokee’s water snakes is a splash into the water as the snake drops from an overhanging branch, usually before your canoe is within 100 feet of them. So it is often difficult to know which species you may have encountered. 

Wednesday, 12:17 PM - Grabbing our life vests (but neglecting seat cushions, as we would later regret), we loaded our canoe and headed up the channel toward Billy’s Lake. As we floated by, a beautifully camouflaged American Bittern popped his head up from the grasses to spy out the intruders.

​Remembering the advice of a friend from years ago, we headed toward Billy’s Island for our first paddling excursion. My old friend had spent a good bit of time exploring the island and found several critters, including an Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake. On our trip, however, most of the island was off limits and hiking was restricted to a 1 mile loop in the immediate area of the dock. 

Our guide this morning had told us that a slightly deranged man had disappeared in Billy’s Island a couple of years ago, prompting an expensive search and rescue mission, and the closure of most of the island. Days later, the man was found walking barefoot on Interstate 75, nobody knowing how or when he left the swamp. 
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The island was named after a Seminole Indian that was murdered there. In later history, following the Civil War, the island was settled by the Lee family; some of whom still inhabit the island in a small graveyard. On our short hike we saw the rusty machinery left from the last century’s efforts of logging the Okefenokee. Other than a deer wading knee-deep in the swamp, the seemingly ever-present Catbirds, and some carnivore scat, we weren’t as lucky as my friend who had related that he found a baby gator and a rattlesnake on the island years ago. 

An excerpt from E.A. McIlhenny's 1935 book, ​The Alligator's Life History: 

"On one occasion I saw a Duroc boar hog that weighed not less than five hundred pounds caught by a large alligator while the hog was swimming across a stream about eighty feet wide. The hog had a regular crossing place at this point, and the alligator was waiting for him. As the swimming hog reached the middle of the stream the alligator, which had been hidden by the overhanging vegetation of the opposite bank, swam out with great speed, caught the hog at the houlder, threw its tail almost completely out of the water and with a tremendous sweep to one side threw all four of the hog's legs clear above the water as it rolled over, and that was the last time I saw the hog alive." - Page 49

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