River of Grass and Ci Ci the Suicide Owl

I fear my head is going to explode with Florida facts and figures and I've only been in the car with Erica of the US Army Corp of Engineers (USACE) for a few minutes. She is evidently passionate and committed to the cause, as is everyone else I will meet on this project over the next few days. We are on our way to the formal start of the Florida section of my journey - a kick-off meeting at USACE HQ in West Palm Beach.

Susan, Erica, Jenn and Michael

I expected smartly dressed soldiers saluting and calling everyone sir but, not for the first time, I was to be pleasantly surprised. The only military attire on display were fatigues worn by Michael, the Lieutenant Colonel - one of only four formal military people in this section of the organisation. The rest are civilians. There were few other people around (it was a Sunday after all), but the USACE's Jenn and Susan were also present and correct.

During the obligatory pre-presentation wrestling with computers and projectors, Michael kindly offers me a cup of that English delicacy, Typhoo Tea, which he buys from a special shop. He developed a penchant for tea and real English beer during his two years working in the UK. It is easily the best cup of tea I've ever had in America.

Landscape restoration projects don't come much larger or more ambitious than the Comprehensive Everglades Restoration Plan (or CERP), which aims to restore 18,000 square miles of one of America's most sensitive and important ecosystems. (This is an area larger than that former swamp the Netherlands.)

Florida is shaped like a gun with an over-sized handle. The natural water flow of the Everglades ran from north of the hole in the handle, through the hole - Lake Okeechobee (Lake O.),  then south to the sea at the tip of Florida. In the 150 miles from Lake O. to Florida's end, the land drops by only 14 feet. The natural state of affairs was for water to flow north to south, with the meandering Kissimmee River in the north draining into the 1,100 sq mile, 9 foot deep Lake O, from which water seeped slowly to the tip of Florida through a River of Grass.














Florida's Everglades have been described as being akin to a hospital patient on the critical list, who won't recover until it receives intensive care. CERP aims to provide that care. The Sunshine State suffers from two main water-related problems: there is either too much, or not enough, reflecting its bi-seasonal wet/dry cycle and is regularly affected by hurricanes. Although this has always been the case, the dichotomy has been exacerbated by human activity over the last century. In the 1920s major floods inundated half the state, killing thousands. After this experience a series of major civil engineering projects sought to reduce the flooding risk, while still maintaining water for people and agriculture. An extensive system of dikes, pump stations, locks and canals was constructed to disrupt the natural flow and remove flood water from the system as quickly as possible, into the sea in the east and west.

Ultimately this has had several major impacts. There is now less water in the system: Lake O. - home to multi-million dollar fishing and recreation industries - has shrunk to 700 sq miles and the area south, including the classic Everglades Sea of Grass, is drying out and the water it does receive is enriched in nutrients from agriculture. Both factors mean that invasive and exotic plants are taking over the natural system across huge areas, and the drier environment increases the risk of fire. Much of the east is concrete conurbation, with never-ending pressure for further development. Nearly eight million people live here and all use aquifer-fed water. The remaining area of the 'Glades is half what it was a century ago. The aquifers are not being recharged adequately because there is less surface water feeding them, which means seawater is ingressing below ground. If left unchecked, the water supply to millions will be severely disrupted. Furthermore, the fertile agricultural soils are disappearing and the land surface has been lowered in some places by several metres.

CERP plans to change the water management of 18,000 sq miles, run by people motivated by a desire to undo the engineering of the past and save the Everglades ecosystem. CERP includes 68 separate elements and will take more than 30 years to construct. The estimated total cost runs at over $13.5 billion of largely state and federal public finance. The key drivers are the federal USACE and the state South Florida Water Management District (SFWMD). This is the first time that I really appreciate the scale of the ambition of this endeavour – just reading their excellent website doesn’t do it justice.

After the tea and chats about CERP (and England) we are taken to a Stormwater Treatment Area. This is one of several enormous impoundments constructed as a series of cells to biologically treat the high-nutrient water from agricultural run-off, before it is released into the Everglades. It seems perverse to spend millions on building artificial wetlands on an area where, not long ago, they were once natural; however, the immediate precursor to the STAs was farmland, not even five years ago.

We trundle along the gravel tracks that bisect the the STA. The transformation from farmland in such a short time is astounding. The wetland vegetation cannot hide the wheeling flocks of wading birds, some of which are quite rare, such as the wood stork and the stunning roseate spoonbill. Most memorably I watch, for the first time in my life, an osprey dextrously dipping its talons into the water, at speed, to snag a fish. (Needless to say I didn't get a photo!) There are alligators everywhere, some of them so close that I'm glad I'm in a vehicle. All this in an area sandwiched between sugar-cane farm monocultures and the eastern limit of one of America's major cities literally just across the road. I mentioned to Michael that no matter how fast the alligator was, I would probably out-run it, to which he replied, "I don't have to be faster than the alligator Pete, I just have to be faster than you!"

A tiny corner of Stormwater Treatment Area 1A

Erica, Jenn and I are on a tight time schedule. We miss lunch and drive north, with a brief stop-off on the east side of Lake O. We climb the 140 mile-long Herbert Hoover Dike that surrounds the lake, built to control its flooding and now the subject of major CERP-related strengthening. We talk endlessly about the Everglades and Florida's future. The big elephant in the car is what effect climate change will have on all of this over the next few decades. Part of CERP's rationale, therefore is an attempt to "future-proof" the ecosystem from climatic perturbations.

Lake O.

We pass ancient, huge swamp cypress trees, now surrounded by farmland. These slow-growing giants indicate that the area was once swamp. You wouldn't think it now as they sit among caravans and farms. Suddenly we stop! Some large birds have sauntered onto the road like they own it! Bird-rage!


The setting sun silhouettes the palm trees as we arrive at the famous Lightsey's fish restaurant to meet Tiffany (USACE) and Lawrence (SFWMD). The restaurant is decorated with dried alligator heads, which look even more unappealing dressed in Halloween trinkets. Freeze-wrapped alligator meat is on sale in packs the size of a pillow. I choose alligator for my meal - a pre-emptive strike I think!

It's now dark and getting late. Erica and I drive into the night following Lawrence. We arrive at the Riverwoods Education Centre - a bungalow with 70's decor, done up with dormitories and a conference room. It's very dark here - every star twinkles - and this is where we are to spend the night. Before we are allowed to approach the house from the car, Lawrence rushes inside to collect his badminton rackets. He hands us one each. These are for self-defence against local, gender-confused barn owl, Ci Ci, who loves to terrorise guests, sometimes scratching them with his/her talons. We creep, laden with bags, to the house, badminton rackets at the ready. (Almost) disappointly we are not attacked and survive the ordeal.

Before bed, we are inspired by a powerful powerpoint presentation on the Kissimmee River restoration by Lawrence. This is where we are heading tomorrow morning, first thing; it's now eleven, so we need a good sleep, Ci Ci permitting.