Swamps, Gators, and Cajuns
7 people, 2 from Korea (1 who spoke no English – how he ended up in a Louisiana swamp outside of Breaux Bridge is anyones guess), and 1 Cajun, took off in our swamp mobile at 3:30, pushing off the side of the banks of the Cypress Island/Lake Martin Swamp.
The boat is a dinged up but still sturdy looking crawfish skiff, which, according to the Cajun, can glide along in very shallow water, even mucky mud, without worry.
MY biggest worry, in the first 1 or 2 minutes, was that here we were, in the swamp, and everyone in the boat wanted to see a ton of ‘grandpapa’ alligators, the really big ones. For me, it seems much scarier to see them in the boat, where your escape options are a)throw in the elderly lady and hope for the best or b)jump out of the boat that they are attacking, one giant U shaped bite already out of it and slowly sinking, but risk that you are now in the water WITH THEM. On land, I can zigzag run with the best of them, and to be honest my previous encounters have either been in the back of the house in South Carolina, or on golf courses, both where they just run away to the water. Also only the ‘safe’ alligators have been left by the “alligator police”, the equivalent of exotic lawn ornaments.
They also have the element of surprise in the swamp…they can see you, but as they are submerged, you can’t see them.
Butch, the guide, lets us know that alligators have been around since before dinosaurs, and their basic survival method was 2 part: eat anything smaller than you, and run away from anything bigger than you. I quickly put my arms and camera back in the boat.
About 2 minutes into our journey we see a log with not one but two alligators sitting on it. We get closer. And closer. And closer. They are looking at us, and one slowly lowers himself into the water. The chatty woman behind me murmurs, “aw, how cute” then “oh, he ran away”, in that baby talk voice. “He’s not gone!” I think to myself, changing my vote from the elderly lady to her, if one of us has to go, “he’s probably under the boat!”
Butch reminds the portly unsteady gentleman that alligators really do go after things they deem smaller, so standing up in the boat is a bad idea and he shouldn’t do it again. My guess is it was more to do with his ability to capsize the boat than anything else…. he’d be the second sacrificed, if it had to be that way.
Anyhow, the alligators did actually run away, and we went to find more, which only took us about 45 seconds. And then another minute after that, 2 more. 5 more in the next 20 minutes, and so on. This place is teeming with them. And of course, as human logic is so backwards this way, the more I saw of them, the less worried I was. Eh, an alligator, so what, big deal. Alligator, smalegator.
So, after I too came into my own false sense of security, I really did start to enjoy this swamp. It is absolutely beautiful. Turtles (Butch calls em: Gator popcorn), a snake, and thousands of birds. Great blue herons, ibis, roseated spoonbills, snowy egrets, anhingas, red winged blackbirds, and comorants to name just a few. They have a rookery at the far end, so its birdy heaven, all amongst the tupelo and cypress trees.
My second worry, came about an hour and a half into the ride, when Butch decides to motor through a 50 yard clump of water hyacinths. We rev up, I get lower for streamlining :), and off we go, outboard motor a chugging. Until we get about a third of the way through…then. dead. crank crank crank. nothing. Butch starts to pull out his extra parts and go to work, fixing the propeller (he ended up having to put an entirely new propeller on), all while standing in the boat, so as not to get eaten by anything swimming around. Anyhow, new propeller on, we have two choices. back or forward. And, here we go, forward. Crank it up. Everyone in the front of the boat… chugg chugg chugg, and OUT. yay.
But now we don’t have a backup propeller, I think. And here we are in the densest thickest part of the swamp! This might be a serious problem, and I could imagine this becoming a 2 hour tour of the Gilligan variety. Then the Korean guy answered his cellphone which he had brough along, and I figured we probably were pretty saveable, and just let my imagination have a rest.
After learning a lot about swamps, and swamp denizens we were returned to our cars safe and sound about 2.5 hours after setting sail. Butch, the cajun guide, was incredibly knowledgable, and lent a localness to his tour with stories about his brother in law (not the sharpest lure in the tacklebox) and what it was like growing up in the swamp.
What I did:
Cajun Country Swamp Tours, Personalized Tours, butchguch@yahoo.com, 337-319-0010. About 10 mins south of Breaux Bridge, LA. Butch arranged this with me the day before, and there only is a minimum of two people to go out on a tour at the time you’ve come up with. He coordinated with other folks that called in, to accomodate my schedule and my singleness. Top notch. $20 dollars (plus tip)
Tags: Breaux Bridge, Cajun, Deep South, Deep South USA, Louisiana, Road trip, Roadtrip, Swamp, USA, Tag Index
jessicab