February 12, 2024: I travel from Volusia Bar Fish camp to Hontoon Island State Park and enjoy some of the park’s amenities as a not-very-welcome guest.
I was up at about 3:10 the next morning. Those jungle sounds!
I did my morning chores when it got light enough to see. That included dishes, taking out the trash, and walking my pups. I also took a gamble and used one of the spigots to top off my water. Although I had serious doubts about the marina’s facilities, I didn’t actually drink that water, although I did put it through a filter before putting it in my tank. Surely it would be good enough to wash with.
On to Hontoon Island
Hontoon Island was on my plan and it was my next stop. I left Volusia Bar at about 10 AM — I really didn’t have that far to go — and made a slow cruise south. The river was much narrower here and very winding. Still, other than the birds I’d been seeing most of the way, there wasn’t anything interesting to see.
One challenge was at the Whitehair Bridge in DeLand. They’d built a new bridge with a 45 foot clearance and were removing the remains of the old bascule bridge there. That required two cranes, one of which was on a barge. The entire channel was blocked except for a space of about 20 feet between the barge and a bridge abutment. I wasn’t sure where to go until I saw a northbound boat come through. I slipped through after him. Waterway Guide noted this as a Hazard which appeared on Aqua Maps, but the information was limited to what the Coast Guard had provided.
Hontoon Island wasn’t much farther south. The marina was closed to overnight stays, but open from 8 AM to 4 PM. I figured I’d stop, walk my pups, and maybe take a hike before I had to leave. I pulled in and, because of the short finger piers, had to back into a slip. A ranger came out to help. I was halfway into one slip when he told me that slip was for their marina host’s boat. So I scooted over, giving my thrusters a little workout.
Here’s my Nebo log for February 12, 2024. Download a PDF log file with more info. Track Do It Now on Nebo.
As we secured my boat, I asked the ranger about overnight stays. There was another Ranger Tug there — an R-23 — so apparently some boats could stay. He told me that if I were having engine problems, they’d let me stay. I told him that I wasn’t having any problems — I really do not like to lie — but did have concerns about the weather forecasted for that afternoon and overnight: very windy and rainy. He told me I could stay for the night.
Well that was easy.
My boat is considerably larger than it’s smaller sibling, a Ranger Tug R-23.
At the Park
I took my pups for a quick walk, then went back to the boat to settle in a little. Again, I didn’t see any reason to plug in so I didn’t bother.
Hontoon Island State Park is a small state park accessible only by boat. From its website:
Evidence of Native American habitation over thousands of years can be witnessed as visitors hike through the park. Walk through the impressive visitor center to learn more about the many inhabitants and uses of Hontoon Island over the years. The island is accessible only by private boat or park ferry.
Paddling, fishing, hiking, biking and camping are popular activities. Canoe, kayak and bicycle rentals are available from the island store. Picnic areas include tables, grills and a playground.
Overnight boat slip rentals are available. The park’s ferry operates daily from 8 a.m. to one hour before sunset. Hontoon Island is located six miles west of DeLand off State Road 44.
The trouble is, Hurricane Ian damaged the park, mostly by river levels rising to the point where they flooded out the park offices. Although some contractors were hired to do the repairs necessary to get the park fully open, they are dragging their asses and the work isn’t getting done. So the park store, ranger station, and visitor center are all closed. Regular ferry service is suspended. And the marina doesn’t accept overnight guests (unless you have engine trouble, are sufficiently worried about the weather, or are a marina host).
I tried to take a hike that day, but I was too tired to go very far.
The park had lots of trails and I figured I’d take my pups to explore some of them. After eating some leftover ribs for lunch, I changed into hiking shoes, put my girls back on their leashes, and started down one of the wide trails to get a hike in. I got as far as the campground — maybe 1/4 to 1/2 mile? — before I realized that I was just too tired to walk. I’d been up since 3:10, if you recall, and my day had caught up with me. So we went back to the boat and settled down in my sleeping cabin to take a nap.
I woke hearing voices. There were two men out there talking about me. One couldn’t understand why they were letting me stay overnight and didn’t seem very happy about it. The other had a problem with my martini flag — which I’d hung as a joke. The first one didn’t understand where Malaga, WA was — it’s written under the name of my boat on the bow — because he knew WN was the abbreviation for Washington. (It’s only the abbreviation for state registration numbers on a boat, not the postal code.) I decided to teach them a little lesson about talking about strangers behind their back. I came out of my cabin, stepped onto the aft deck, and said, loudly, “I can answer any questions you have, guys.”
They were startled. They clearly hadn’t known I was in there. The one who didn’t want me to stay tried to convince me to move my boat to another slip on the other side of the marina. “There’s 50 amp power there,” he said enticingly.
“I don’t take 50 amp,” I told him. “And I’m not even plugged in. I’m fine here. But thanks.” Truth is, I really saw no reason to move.
He tried again to get me to move but I changed the subject to talk about his boat, a C-Dory 22 that had come in beside me while I was asleep. I’d started thinking about trawlers after riding with a friend in his C-Dory, which happened to be the same model. Next to my boat, it looked minuscule. That’s funny to me because although my boat is never the biggest boat at a marina, it was at that one.
Later on, I took my pups for quick walk. The two men and a woman were sitting up near the offices. It turns out that the woman was also in the C-Dory. (Whoa.) I made nice with them all, chatting about birds.
After the walk, I tried the showers, which were just what you’d expect in a state park: kind of institutional. But the water was hot and the pressure was good. I had a good shower. Whatever damage had been done by floodwaters in the bathroom had been repaired; everything functioned perfectly. I started to wonder why they didn’t open the marina to overnight stays, perhaps with a limited number of guests. Surely the park could use the income.
I had leftover short rib for dinner and retired around my usual time. It was very quiet in the park once the sunset bird calls were over. I slept well.
