Copyright ©2006 Desktop Productions
Lee A. Young, Owner
A Glint of the Flint from Thomaston, GA to Apalachicola, FL
My journey down the Flint River in Georgia began in Thomaston, Georgia in August of 2003 and it carried me then southward to where Flint converges with the Chattahoochee to form the Apalachicola River at the Florida state line and on into Apalachicola Bay ariving in October, where it performs a miracle of nature. Apalachicola Bay is one of the most prolific estuaries on the continent. Thousands of Native Americans came to the area in prehistoric eras each winter to gorge off its bounty. I suppose one could call them the 1st “Snow Birds”. The weather during the winter months are pretty mild in that area and the fish, shellfish and crabs live in an ecosystem that is really very self supportive and well maintained. No longer can fishermen, crabbers, oystermen and shrimpers do as they please. The money isn’t as good right away, but it will be there longer!
At the head waters of the Flint the Atlanta Airport starts its unavoidable pollution. The headwaters are located just at the south end of the runways. The river is mainly non-navigate able though until it gets to around Woodberry, Georgia. From there to Thomaston it becomes shoal ridden. Yellow Jacket Shoals is it’s signature shoals and is well shown on the topographic maps and well known by the locals. The map doesn’t do it justice! A shoal is where the rock outcroppings are exposed in the mid stream of a river and creates an obstacle to the water causing it to rise to the height of the rock and speed over the top and drop anywhere from 6” to 3-4 feet. The trick is to figure out where the water is deepest and try your best to get positioned for the assault. It is generally considered that the shoals on the Flint are no more than Class II’s, but they can be tricky! In my case, with way too much gear for anyone man in a canoe, I had to spend a lot of time pushing and pulling in the waist deep water a lot in order to gracefully traverse the rapids. I can only hope that nobody was watching as I fumbled with the rig I had so painstakingly built to my unknowing specifications!
From Thomaston to the top end of Lake Blackshear the current is strong and it takes a little paddling power to keep out of the snags and eddies. It can get kind of curvy and it will keep you busy dodging the small shoal areas and the growing number of gators. Not to worry though, for the most part. These guys are generally more afraid of you than you should be of them, but just in case it’s best to keep a safe distance. It can get on the serious side, especially during the mating season (November to January) because the bulls can get little testy and protective of their territory. It’s cool to hear the big bulls bellowing out over the placid waters. You can almost see the vibrating ripples across the river. Sometimes it sounds like a bass boat on idol or at a distance. It’s an experience you just got to have!
At the top of all the man made lakes along the Flint the current slows down to a crawl, and this is where I had to use some “McGiver” skills to try and keep it a moving on. At the top of Lake Blackshear I had battery power for my trolling motor and I made my way to the dam fairly easily, but that would be the last of the free rides. You have to understand that I was hauling about 600 lbs of gear on this little outing, and I rode real low in the water. The drag was immense and there was no real paddling that would do any good. Keeping batteries up for the trolling motor was about as hopeless as it could get, so it was a real slow trip the length of the lake stoping once along the way to recharge the useless batteries at a dock inhabited by some real fine folks. Once I got out of the wind and on to a side channel at the lower end where I was to make my first portage it wasn’t so bad.
Finding camp sites up to this point was pretty easy. There are plenty of sand bars along the sides of the river at nearly every long bend where going ashore is easy and the sand is generally clean and solid. Here’s a hint though; when you see a sand bar and you are ready to stop for the day, or whatever, be sure to hit the upstream end and not wait until you get to the downstream end because that’s where all the sediment collects and it can be awfully muddy! The only real rule at these places is to ALWAYS pack out what you pack in! Nothing makes me madder than to see MY River being polluted!
Stay close to, or on, the water when camping on the sand bars for a couple of reasons. The first being that there is generally a slight breeze the closer to the water surface you get and the mosquitoes don’t hang out there as much. The closer you get to the trees the more they swarm and can carry you away! There were times when I thought that the crop dusting planes were just some of the local mosquitoes looking for a place to land. The other reason is because when you are on the sand bar you are not trespassing. Along the Flint there are mostly farms and quite a few hunting and fishing camps too. Unfortunately not everyone approves of someone camping on their property!
There are no locks at the dam at the bottom end of Lake Blackshear, so you’ll have to portage around it, and my moving all my gear was a pain in the stern. I lucked out and happen to catch a fisherman that wasn’t to busy and he offered to help me get to a park on the downstream side of the dam. It is a real nice park and I would recommend it for a good supply and rest point. I spent my time reorganizing gear and trying to charge up the batteries for the next stretch of water. You have to be watchful of the dam and listen for the sirens letting you know when they are releasing water because you might end up having to drag your canoe across some muck or have to look downstream for it if you happened to leave it moored too loosely. Lesson learned and now passed on!
The river widens and slows a little from there on until you get closer to Albany and the small lake ahead of the dam. There is another nice little park on the upstream side of the dam along the west bank where you can portage. It’s about 100 yards from the park over the dam to the ramp below on the downstream side, so I didn’t have all that much trouble getting around this one. It just took a little muscle and knowledge of leverage. Met some nice folks there, just like all the others along the river, at least those that I saw because there just aren’t a whole lot of folks actually on the water or along the banks. It seems like a real isolated river when you are floating along with the current, but there are always those little noises from civilization that you hear through the silence and katydid/cricket serenade. During the early morning hours, just after sunrise you’ll hear, and occasionally get a sight on, a crop dusting plane. The noises along the river can go for miles when the wind is still. The corridor guarded by oaks and willows creates a noise funnel that can carry certain sounds for miles! The Flint River doesn’t really parallel any major roads so you don’t get that constant roar from engines keeping you up at night.
The banks of the river south of Albany take on a different look as you speed along with the flow. The shores are rocky and steep in many places and the sand bars sort of disappear as the river cuts through a limestone shelf. Every once in a while there is a bar large enough to camp on, but they get fewer the further you go. The current slows to a real crawl just before you get into the head of Lake Seminole. It’s a little swampier in this particular area and camp sites are restricted to landings around the lake. If it isn’t privately owned the land is too wet for a bed, of course you could hang a hammock between a two of cypress snags.
Just before I started across the lake north of Albany I tried my hand at sail making and built a mast and square sail for my vessel. Well, I didn’t get a chance to use it much because that particular lake was pretty short. I did, however, get the chance to try it out on Lake Seminole and it worked! My 9’x10’ poly tarp square rigged sail worked real well actually……as long as the wind was behind me. My only problem was that I couldn’t see ahead of me through the big blue sail, and sure enough I ran slap into one of those cypress trees (snags) sticking up running a branch right through the sail and sending me tumbling towards the bow. I was embarrassed, and the first thing I did after collecting myself from being thrown nearly out of the boat was to check to see if anybody was watching. It was Labor Day weekend and the lake was busy, but I lucked out and didn’t catch anyone’s eye!
The wind was my friend that morning, but by the time I made sight of the dam later that afternoon the wind turned and came from the southeast pushing me helplessly into a field of grass and cypress stumps right in the middle of the convergence of the Chattahoochee and Flint where I found myself playing “where did he go” with a 12 foot gator who had an eye on my dog. The wind was a servant as well as hindrance to me for the more than 4 hours I spent stranded in the grass and stumps. The wind kept me pushed into the snags, but also kept at bay the little non-biting yet annoying bugs that swarmed everywhere.
As it got closer to evening I was getting desperate to get out of there and began trying to flag down someone in the line of airboats that I had seen and heard (they can be pretty darn loud!) several times passing at a distance during the day. As the line began to fade out of sight and up the Chattahoochee, the last airboat in line saw my frantic waving thankfully and turned about to help me. It had to be an airboat to come to my rescue because nothing else could have gotten too me through the stumps and grass. They were sure a welcome site! They tied on and pulled me over to the edge of the grass at the main channel where I sat out the next couple of hours waiting for the wind to die before I could attempt to make my push across the ¼ mile wide main channel to a park on the eastern shore with docks where I could hopefully get some rest because it had been one heck of tiring day.
The park had electricity that I used to charge the batteries for the next day’s push on to the dam, and finally some locks! This meant I would not have to completely disassemble the vessel and reassemble on the other side again, or any more! It was pretty neat sitting in that big old lock designed to hold large barges and boats all alone, except for the little 3 foot gator that got caught up in there with me. When the gate opened we both made a run for it in a swish!
This is when the river makes it’s most drastic change. The current slows down to next to nil and the shores became swamps. I had spent several nights previously sleeping on the vessel, and it looked like I was going to have to prepare for a lot more nights on the water. With a 2’x8’ piece of ¼” plywood I fashioned a removable deck that tied down on top of my gear right down the middle of the vessel and there I had a place to roll out the sleeping bag. I was able to do this comfortably because I had built outriggers for my 16’ Old Town canoe that helped to stabilize it in the water and keep it from turning over when I turned over in my sleep. This arrangement served well from that point on until the journey came to an end on the shores of Apalachicola Bay.
Fishing on the Flint is good! I was able to catch a meal most anytime of the day. I ate catfish mainly in about every way it can be cooked. The largest catfish I caught was about 15 lbs, but I lost a few much bigger and I could tell some tales!. I found out that the best place to catch catfish was at the downstream end of sand bars just as eddies began their swirl. I found bait all along the river pretty easily, becoming a worm finder extraordinaire. A bit of a hint; if the ground is dry look in the bark of fallen trees (cypress or hardwoods) and you’ll probably find enough worms for a fish catching day. There are many other natural types of bait too, like crickets and grubs, but I preferred the worms. They just seemed to work better and are more abundant generally. During the day I would fish for small perch along the willow lined shore and next to the roots of the live oaks at the cut banks, and then at night, using my big pole, I’d use the perch for bait to try and catch the big catfish that run looking for food at night, and most of the time I had great success. Just be sure not to leave a stringer of fresh fish floating in the water at night because the gators and gars like to patrol the shores at night looking for an easy meal. Another lesson learned and passed on!
All kinds of wildlife abound on this nearly pristine paradise. I had families of wild hogs come to the shore line to watch me pass by, and I saw deer swimming across the current to get from one side to the other for some unknown reason and nearly getting hit by speedy jet skis. Just south of Albany a beaver swam not 5’ from the boat along side of me once for about a quarter of a mile before disappearing into a cavern in the bank. Birds of prey and water foul can be seen daily feeding along the graceful river, so there is always something to see.
There are plenty of snakes along the Flint, but fortunately I only came in close contact with a couple. You just have to keep a watchful eye, and be sure to flip over logs with a stick before looking under it for worms. I found one little water moccasin sleeping just under the bow of my vessel one morning while shoving off, but he was so frightened that before he, or I, could do anything he was gone! I began floating in the brackish water the closer I got to the mouth of the Apalachicola River. In this area, and during the time of year I was there, just happened to be the time for the black flies to proliferate. I want to tell you that they are as thick as fles during the last week of the month of September! The flies were worse on shore, but they swarmed out on the water too. It is best to have yourself plenty of insect repellent with you if you are planning this journey. The mosquitoes and flies can be pretty rough at times!
Right at the mouth of the river you come to a tee. Going right will take you through a cut and out into the marsh and mangroves along the Inter Coastal Waterway and going to the left you go around to the east past the docks with shrimp boats, and other vessels of various persuasions, and into the Apalachicola Bay. I saw my first dolphin right at the mouth of the river and knew then that I was close to the Gulf of Mexico and near my journey’s end.
The fishing community of Apalachicola is a peaceful little community with some mighty fine folks making their living from nature, and I was met with a warm reception for the most part though it was pretty late at night when my long slow paddling with the tide carried me to the docks near the bridge where the $100,000 yachts were tied, marking the beginning of the actual bay. My little contrived vessel was dwarfed by the yachts and the docks that stuck up 6’ to 8’ above the water surface. I had to climb up about 6’ to get on to the docks at the fancy yacht club there. It had been a long 350 river mile journey and I celebrated by going to a local bar and having myself a good cold beer! I would have stopped in the yacht club but the folks there were a little out of my league and smelt a little better too.
I would recommend this trip to anyone who has that desire to really experience nature and all it has to offer. I enjoyed every mile of the journey and will be looking forward to my next one where I will take the Oconee River in central Georgia to the convergence of the Oconee and Okmulgee into the Altamaha River and on to the Altamaha Sound and the Atlantic Ocean, and who knows from there! I am looking into making a side trip up into the Okefenokee Swamp, but that’s just a thought.
The experience I had on the actual bay is a whole other story, and I will post this at a later time! So, until my next post, keep your oars in the water and your sights on the shoals! Keep the adventure alive!
Captain Natural Lee
