Studying the log jam again, we thought we might be able to push down on some parts of the trees with our paddles and at the same time, rock our canoes over them.  There was nothing for it but to try.  After a couple false starts and much muttering under our breaths, we finally hit upon a way to get over, which involved much weigh shifting, rocking, turning, leverage and assistance from the other canoe.  We did it, and without capsizing or injury.  We would worry about going back over the opposite way tomorrow.

We paddled on, wondering how much further.  We were losing light fast - would we be canoeing by flashlight soon?  It wasn't much further past the logjam when we finally spotted it, the wooden platform where we would spend the night.  We had reached the chickie.

I'm not sure how these platforms came to be named, but we were glad to see this one.  This chickie was built on a very small spit of raised dry land, and was not much more than a small dock with a roof over it.  There was a picnic table, and a chemical toilet nearby.  The toilet is a necessity - you're not allowed to relieve yourself in the swamp.  No human waste or bacteria goes in this wilderness.  Should you hear the call of nature in the canoe, you're expected to hold it, or make use of a 'porta-pottie' that all canoe parties are required to pack along with them.

We pulled the canoes out of the water and unpacked our gear.  I pulled out the camp stove and started working on supper while there was some light left.  We pitched camp right on the platform in the meantime; there was just enough room for two tents.  Supper was a twilight affair - fried spam, potatoes and corn never tasted so good!  While we were eating, we noticed a four foot gator sliding up into the shallows alongside the chickie.  We realized something was up when a leaf fell into the water and the gator snapped sideways at it  Hmm. A little bit of leftovers wrapped in a piece of tortilla solved the problem - the gator swam in and snapped it right up.  It was apparent that Bean Croc, as we named the gator, visited the chickie every evening hoping for a snack from whomever happened to be staying on the platform that night.  After a few more snacks, we left Bean Croc to his own devices, and he (or she) swam around until dark.

After dark I pulled out a contraption I wanted to play around with and hopefully get a look at some of the aquatic life in the water around us.  It consisted of two pieces of plexiglas mounted in a framework just an inch apart, making in effect a very skinny aquarium.  I had thrown it together just before our trip, and wanted to try it out.  Using a flashlight and a dip net, we were able to catch and display a number of fish species and crayfish.  Unfortunately, the device leaked like a sieve, but we were able to get a good look and some photos of some top minnows.

Before hitting the hay we decided to take a nighttime paddle up the canal to shine some gators.  We took one canoe out into the quiet dark shining our lights from side to side.  Soon enough several pairs of red gator eyes reflected back at us - perhaps Bean Croc was among them.  The swamp is a different place at night, with color,  distance and dimension skewed by the darkness  Night-lighting gators is always an interesting adventure.