Matching Tracksuits

We arrived at the Everglades at a little past one, stopping for a lunch of alligator at a roadside cafe that had four and a half stars on Trip Advisor. One bite and we realized why. Much to my surprise, though the Girl ordered shrimp, she was quite eager to try the gator.

"Tasty, but too hard to chew," she said.

The plan for the day: hit the national park as hard as possible for the last half of the day. The ranger had told us in the visitor center to leave the first walking path for last as that was where we would most likely find gators. We made it through several paths, including one that wound through the last few pines in the Everglades and one that highlighted an enormous mahogany tree. We saw gars and egrets, giant grasshoppers and snakes, but we still hadn't managed to see what we were all hoping to see: an alligator in the wild.

We made it to the very last stop on the road, Flamingo Visitor Center and marina at the Florida Bay. The center had been ravaged by Hurricane Irma to the point that the national park service has decided to tear down the old center, dating likely from the late fifties or early sixties, and build entirely new facilities. We wandered around, saw a couple of manatees in the bay that were none too eager to do more than peek their head above the water for just moment.

By the time we made it back to Royal Palms visitor center to head up the Anhinga Trail, it was late in the afternoon, probably close to six. Early evening, I guess. We started up the trail, hoping to find some gators resting in the grasses that were along the trail when we discovered karma: a six-foot gator resting just by the trail, not moving, seemingly daring anyone to approach.

A French-speaking family stood and watched for a while until one of the daughters, seeing the size of the grasshoppers that were mating on the walkway railing and realizing just how close she was to the gator, broke down in tears and walked away, the rest of the family comforting her. She was probably around sixteen.

On the other side of the gator, a couple waited, presumably wondering whether or not to chance it. They would have approached from the tail end of the gator, so I would have thought they had the best chance of making it by without arousing the gator's interest.

In all likelihood, any of us could have walked calmly by the animal without much danger at all. A quick glance at images Google shows from the trail indicates that it's a common occurrence and that there are often many alligators sunbathing by the walkway. Still, with little kids in hand, there was no sense in doing anything more than admiring from a distance. After all, it's not often one gets to see an animal that has been on the Earth for about 37 million years...

"G, come here! There's water in the hall!" I was lying in bed, half-asleep, thinking, "I should go ahead and get up while I'm half awake instead of waiting until I start drifting into a deeper sleep," but that certainly got me up in a hurry. There was a puddle in the hallway that led down to the back bedroom and ran between the kids' bedroom and the kitchen. I moved into the living/dining room area to find a bigger puddle there. Multiple puddles. We looked to find the source and quickly determined it was coming from under the kitchen sink. I reached under to turn off the water, hoping it was just something in the connection from the wall to the faucet when, getting quite a bolt of electricity shooting through my arm, I realized that whoever installed the garbage disposal had not done so according to code.

We located the load center only to discover that not a single breaker was labeled. I did the logical thing: I turned everything off. Armed with the flashlight on my phone, I went back to the kitchen and tried to turn the water off, but it only increased the flow: the actual connector was somehow loose and trying to turn it off only compromised the connection further.

In the midst of all this, I was trying to get in touch with our Air B&B host:

Major issue here. The kitchen sink was leaking. Water everywhere in the floor.
Today at 7:41 AM

Tried to turn the water off. Got a good shock from the garbage disposal
Today at 7:42 AM

Found the power shut off and turned it off. Tried to turn off the water under the kitchen sink but it's still leaking.
Today at 7:56 AM

Not dripping but literally running.
Today at 7:56 AM

We put a bucket under the sink, but the only thing we found was a metal bucket. I'd turned the power back on so that we wouldn't be sweltering in a few moments and told the kids just to stay on the bed and off the floor -- it seemed unlikely that anything could happen, but why take a chance? When the bucket got full, K asked if she should just the bucket it out to empty it.

"Not unless you want to get a shock," I said. I told her to just stand there as I went through the breakers and tell me when I'd disconnected the power to the kitchen. I reached to turn off one breaker; nothing. I turned off the second; nothing. I reached to turn off the third and, touching the metal of the breaker box itself, got a little shock.

"Screw this," I thought, grabbed a plastic hanger, and turned off all the breakers.

Still no word from our host. I sent another message:

Just got shocked at your breaker board trying to figure out which breaker is for the kitchen.
Today at 8:08 AM

The host finally arrived -- "finally" I say because from our perspective, it seemed to be an almost endless ordeal -- and I told him everything that had happened. Texts can only provide so much detail.

Needless to say, we didn't stay another night. There are apparently plumbing and electrical issues galore in the place not to mention water everywhere, and so we went through day as planned and then drove an hour and a half south to cut our driving time to the Everglades tomorrow.

And what was planned? A visit to the Clearwater Marine Aquarium, which really should be called an animal hospital. We got to see Winter, the tail-less dolphin who inspired a movie, sea turtles missing fins, sharks that had been caught by a commercial fisherman who didn't realize that they would grow to be as big as they did and asked the CMA to help -- a host of wounded and healing animals. It included a boat trip with a marine biologist who talked about the various animals they trolled for in the bay, then pulled up nets and with an assistant took inventory of what they found.

A final afternoon at the beach and we packed our bags and headed further south. Tomorrow, on to the Everglades.

To see the amount of engineering and the problems surmounted to get people into space, to get people on the moon, to create all the equipment, materials, procedures to accomplish all this -- to see it all in person is somewhat overwhelming. And then to think that, despite all this, we can't even get along with each other.