~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Life Afloat ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~: Not Elephants

Do you know what species is among elephants' closest living relatives?
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... they're gray like elephants ...
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... and big like elephants ...
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... and we've even occasionally seen some here in St Aug ...
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... I didn't say whether they lived on land or water ...
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If you guessed manatees, you got it!

I posted this question on my Facebook page and got a range of comments. See, this is what is so cool about my friends -- half of them were like, "Well, DUH, of course elephants and manatees are related;" and the other half were like "Wow, I learn the coolest things from you that I never would have guessed."

I committed in 2020 to have more adventures: go places we hadn't been before, do things we hadn't done before, and learn things we hadn't known before. And only a week into the new year we planned the first of those adventures - a swim with manatees, in the wild.

We rented a car and drove to a section of Florida we hadn't seen before, dubbed the "Nature Coast." (All the sections of Florida's coast have these cute nicknames -- we're the "First Coast" from first settlement; Cape Canaveral area is the "Space Coast" for rocket launches, "Treasure Coast" is named for shipwrecks, etc). The area we were headed to is called the "Nature Coast" because it's so wonderfully undeveloped. We'd be visiting a spot with the poetic name Crystal River. The river's clarity comes from the thirty natural springs that add an average of 300 million gallons (1,135 million liters) of warm water to the river every day.

We booked a 1/2 day boat tour (heated, thankfully, it was a chilly January day -- but that chill was exactly what made the manatees flee the cold gulf and congregate in the warmer spring water where we saw them) and had a spectacular knowledgeable guide. Before we got in the boats to go to the not-so-secret manatee spots, we got a chance to learn some facts about these intriguing animals and their habitat. They can live in either fresh or salt water, but they like it warm. When the water gets below about 68 degrees F they seek warmth, swimming from the Gulf of Mexico up the river to the springs which are 72-74 degrees F (22C-23C) year round where we could see them in masses. They are gentle, slow moving vegetarians, curious and with bad eyesight. They can live to 60 years old, and generally grow to 3 meters (10 feet) long and weigh 500 kg (1,200 lb) although some have been recorded at twice that big. But measuring them is not the same as understanding them.

"Just float," our guide and manatee whisperer José taught us. "Be quiet, let them come to you.They will be curious, they will check you out." We had just stepped off the boat and were swimming toward one edge of the warm springs where the animals liked to hang out.

At first, honestly, it was not that different from observing other fish while snorkeling or scuba diving. They did their thing, we did ours. We could observe them, but from a respectful distance. Like any aquatic creature, it was not like we could swim fast enough to catch up to them if they wanted to get away. A few members of our group did get close enough to touch the manatees. I drifted a little bit away from the group, and when I was alone, that's where the magic happened.

I swam (slowly, quietly) up to what I first thought were just big boulders on the bottom of the stream. Until I realized that boulders like that don't exist in Florida. These were mammals. Big ones, but not at all scary.

One manatee came over to figure out what I was. He slowly drifted up to me; I could see the sensitive whiskers and he put his face close to mine and looked at me with his weak, brown eye. Another came close to me, and I lightly petted his (her?) side with a single gloved finger, almost as though he was made of glass. He rolled over, like a dog exposing his belly for a good rub - which delightedly I did. I watched a baby (well, not so small, probably a good 5 feet long!) nuzzle under its mother's left flipper to nurse.

Like many sailors, I never get tired of seeing dolphins. They have a bright, quick intelligence that is easy to anthropomorphize. They laugh, they play in the boat's wake. And I still remember the rush I felt, the first time I saw a dolphin from the dinghy instead of the boat, closer to its own eye level. But being eye to eye with the manatee in his own environment was totally different. More like meeting an old, old soul than a playful young one. There was a slow steadiness there, and an ancient wisdom. It wasn't about whether they were more, or less, intelligent than dolphins; it was like going off in a different dimension entirely. Flailing with words, to communicate the indescribable, and things that cannot be compared directly. It was like asking which was better -- orange, seventeen, or salty? Mind=blown.

As we got back into the boat at the end of the adventure, José looked at me and said, "Your eyes look different."

"Wide with amazement?" I asked.

"They have been opened," he told me.

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(All photos courtesy of River Ventures and used with permission.)