A view of the shore and river from our Lone Cabbage camp.
I don't know if there was ever a house there, but the camping
spot was surrounded by a grove of orange trees.
One of the things that shocked me when planning the trip was trying to get the locations of the possible campsites. The St. Johns River Water Management District didn’t have GPS positions for the camps. They had pictures, but only vague descriptions of where to look for the camps. Once I got on the river, I understood why they didn’t have exact positions. Many of the camps are impossible to get to unless you have an airboat or helicopter. We paddled by a number of camps on Lake Winder, and we not only couldn’t see the camps, we couldn’t even see a place to land. This was another case of getting misleading impressions of a place from looking at satellite photographs of the area.
Our campsite south of the bridge and the Lone Cabbage Fish Camp.
The wind was blowing 20-25 mph by the time we reached Lake Poinsett. This is a large, wide-open lake where pretty big waves could be generated. We decided we would follow the lee of whichever was the windward shore. The lake tended toward the north-northwest, and the wind was out of the south, so the thinking in advance was that we could stick close to the west shore and stay protected. We wanted to make the crossing today, because the wind would turn and come out of the north tomorrow. To our surprise, there was no shoreline to hide under. There were reeds that grew out into the lake in the form of tufts of grass, islands, chains of islands, and peninsulas or large fingers that stuck out into the lake. We could find shelter behind the reeds, but then there would be bays that opened up between the bunches of reeds that left us totally open to the wind and waves for a hundred yards to a half-mile. At one point, Gus’ charting app on his GPS showed that we had been pushed a mile-and-a-half out into the lake from the actual shoreline. We would have to paddle five miles before we found an actual lee.
Gus at Lone Cabbage camp.
It's not uncommon to find that someone has decided to spend eternity
in a place that brought them joy, or peace, or happiness during their
life. We spent the night with Dottie, or "Red" as she was apparently
known, who lived from 1957 to 2006. If I understood correctly, she
is the sister of Carrie Earley, co-owner of the Long Cabbage Fish Camp.