Rainbow Springs, reprise

May 2024

I started my fish-filming journey seven years ago in Rainbow Springs, so it seems appropriate that I end these posts there as well (at least for now!). With its clear, blue water and many, many vents spouting water and sand, it is a spring-enthusiast’s dream.

Rainbow Springs is in an agricultural/residential area southwest of Ocala. The closest town to Rainbow Springs is Dunnellon, which did not feel appear to have grown a great deal since I stayed there seven years ago, although I did not spend a lot of time there on either trip. The neighborhoods just north and west of the spring, on the other hand, seemed to have grown substantially in the intervening years.

Google Earth images of the landscape around Rainbow Springs and of the spring itself. The blue of the run is obvious even from these high elevation images. The darker areas are thick beds of plants.

The headspring of Rainbow is actually a collection of smaller springs that collectively form a large blue pool, scattered with rocks and ringed by submerged and emergent plants.

View of the headspring pool, looking back toward the swimming area. It is a blue to which swimming pool owners aspire.

Underwater views of several vents or sand boils, starting with one of the headspring vents in the upper left-hand corner and ending with cloudy plumes coming from sand boils downstream in the lower left-hand corner.

Filming fish is both easy and hard at Rainbow. The clear water makes the fish easy to see and identify, but its depth makes it hard to set cameras. The vistas are stunning.

A largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides), a redear sunfish (Lepomis microlophus), a redbreast sunfish (Lepomis auritus), and some bluegill sunfish (Lepomis machirochirus) up at the headspring.

The number of predators in this spring was remarkable. I got at least one largemouth bass is virtually every video that I collected. I even managed to get a bass feeding on video. Just downstream from the canoe launch, a downed tree on the edge of a little bay provided structure for a whole host of longnose gar (Lepisosteus osseus). Interestingly, there were gar in that exact same spot seven years ago.

Some impressive predators: a largemouth bass cruising through the site (top) and a video of another feeding (bottom).

A gathering of longnose gar around a downed tree.

The smaller fish, like mosquitofish, shiners, and killifish, were harder to find in attractive poses on video. Given the large number of predators and clear water, they stuck to the areas with more plants, which obstructed my camera view.

Two of the smaller fish species that I recorded: seminole killifish (Fundulus seminolis) and bluefin killifish (Lucania goodei). The red on the tail of the bluefin is just barely visible. They used to be called redfin killifish, but the males often get bright blue dorsal fins when they are breeding. Apparently, the blue is considered more dramatic than the red.

In addition to the number of predatory fish, the number and diversity of turtles was striking. The turtles favored the dense grasses that cover the east side of the run, which is a conservation area off limits to visitors. When I floated past that area, turtles were everywhere, resting on the grasses and swimming between them. However, I got turtles on video all along the run.

Three of the many turtles that I observed in Rainbow Springs, including on the bottom, a Florida softshell (Apalone ferox).

Rainbow Spring is enormous. The first vent alone discharges ~130-320 cfs and all of the subsequent vents add additional flow. When spring #6 adds its flow to the run just upstream of KP Hole, the discharge increases to 297-400 cfs. The 1995 USGS report that ranks the first magnitude springs of Florida puts Rainbow (at 711 cfs with the addition of still more vents downstream) in fourth after Spring Creek Springs, Crystal, and Silver Springs in descending order (https://pubs.usgs.gov/fs/1995/0151/report.pdf). The first two springs are a bit more marine, either on the coast or in the Gulf, so that leaves Rainbow competing with Silver for the biggest and clearest inland spring.

According to the SWFWMD Rainbow Springs dashboard (https://www.swfwmd.state.fl.us/projects/springs/rainbow/dashboard), the discharge of Rainbow Spring is a little higher than it has been in the last few years. The overall the trend has been downward for decades, not as steep a decline as some big Florida springs, but still.

Data on water quality for Rainbow Springs are hard to find. There is an Minimum Flow and Level plan, but it is not online. There is a Basin Management Action Plan (BMAP, https://publicfiles.dep.state.fl.us/DEAR/DEARweb/BMAP/Springs/RainbowSprings_Final_11302015.pdf), but it only gives the target concentration for nitrate. As a result, my conclusions are based on the SWFWMD Rainbow Springs dashboard and the little bit of data that I collected in 2017 and in 2024.

Rainbow Springs is on the warm side (23-24oC) and the dissolved oxygen is very high for a spring (5.85-7.94 mg/L). It was this spring that made me rethink what is “typical” for Florida springs as these values are more than an order of magnitude higher than the dissolved oxygen measurements that I typically take at the headspring of Volusia Blue. It would seem that the water is barely underground at Rainbow. The conductivity is predictably low (~180-380 microS/cm) for a spring a) far from the Gulf and b) without the underlying aquifer salt lens of some of the St. Johns River springs.

Nitrate concentrations, on the other hand, are quite high (more than 2.5 mg/L as compared to the BMAP target of 0.35 mg/L). Like many other Florida springs, the nitrate concentration has risen linearly in Rainbow Spring since the early 1990s at least (for many springs, the increase started in the 1970s). The BMAP attributed the high nitrate loading primarily to cattle and horse pasturelands. However, the rapid increase appears to have slowed and this trend seems to have occurred in other springs as well. Hopefully, we’re turning a corner there.

Image from SWFWMD Rainbow Springs dashboard: https://www.swfwmd.state.fl.us/projects/springs/rainbow/dashboard

Thanks for reading! I will end this last post with a photo of some wood duck friends (Aix sponsa) on a Rainbow Springs dock.

Jackson Blue Spring

May 2024

Jackson Blue was my last stop in the panhandle and my last big “Blue” to visit. Back in the day, a lot of springs must have been really blue because “Blue” appears to be the most common name for springs in Florida: Gilchrist Blue, Jackson Blue, Levy Blue, Madison Blue, Volusia Blue, etc. Now each “Blue” is distinguished from the others using the name of the county in which it occurs. Jackson and Volusia Blue are two of the 33 first magnitude springs in Florida.

Figure from Scott et al. (2002) The Springs of Florida: https://lake.wateratlas.usf.edu/upload/documents/FirstMagnitudeSprings-OpenFileReport85-FGS.pdf. Jackson Blue is in the upper left corner.

Jackson Blue Spring is in a heavily agricultural area, just to the east of the town of Marianna, Florida Caverns State Park, and the Chipola River into which it flows. It is dammed downstream where it passes just south of Marianna. According to Jackson County, this dam produced a reservoir that is now a “nationally known fishing site” (https://jacksoncountyfl.gov/services/parks-recreation/blue-springs-recreation-area/). The run would be big without the dam, but it is especially wide along its length because of the dam. As an interesting aside, the park originally hosted a club for Graham Air Force Base officers.

Google Earth images of the landscape around Jackson Blue Recreation Area (top) and of the dammed run (Merritts Mill Pond, bottom).

Locations of the springs in Jackson Blue Spring run (from: https://floridadep.gov/sites/default/files/JacksonBlue-MerritsMill-nutr-tmdl.pdf)

Jackson Blue Recreation Area (home to the headspring) is a medium-old Florida sort of place, with a dirt parking lot and a small ticket booth attended by a woman who was, perhaps, a high school student. The park is open only during the warm season and the swimming area is surrounded by a cement wall on the upstream end and a moveable wall on the downstream end.

The Jackson Blue swimming area.

On my visit, I put in below the swimming area, which already was starting to fill up with swimmers and divers when I arrived. As soon as I pushed off, I was in an eelgrass (Valisneria americana) wonderland all across the wide run.

Thick beds of eelgrass blanket most of the bottom of the Jackson Blue run.

Much of the eelgrass and other plants were somewhat coated with algae, all of which was photosynthesizing rapidly in the clear water. The evidence for this process was the production of copious bubbles. When plants or algae photosynthesize faster than the water can absorb the oxygen, oxygen bubbles form, covering the producers or rising to the surface if they get too big or disturbed.

Bubbles of oxygen streaming off the eelgrass leaves (and algae).

Beyond the swimming area, lovely old cypress trees (Taxodium distichum) produced shade close to the banks.

Cypress trees in the shallows of Jackson Blue Spring. Duckweed (Lemna sp.) covered the surface of the water in many areas.

Downstream of the headspring, several other springs dot the run. The most famous of these is Shangra-La Spring on northern bank of the run.

Shangri-La main spring above water (top) and underwater (bottom).

The Shangri-La second vent just off shore, photographed above the water (top) and underwater (bottom).

Twin Caves Spring is a little further downstream next to a swimming platform near the southern bank of the run.

Two views of Twin Caves Spring.

Just below the swimming area, the algae was pretty thick, but back under the trees along the banks, the sandy substrate was more visible. In the shallows under the cypress trees, there were more juvenile largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides) than I have ever seen in one place. And, of course, there were lots of sunfish, especially spotted sunfish (Lepomis punctatus), all over the run.

Thick algae with spotted sunfish just downstream from the canoe launch.

Several juvenile largemouth bass passing through as two bluefin killifish (Lucania goodei) flared bright blue dorsal fins in a territorial display.

Still more juvenile largemouth bass downstream.

In addition to the large sunfish and largemouth bass populations, the turtle populations also seemed to be healthy.

A turtle passing by two spotted sunfish.

A tiny loggerhead musk turtle (Sternotherus minor) climbing over the rocks in this view from Shangri-La Spring out toward the center of the run (below).

Like most other springs in Florida, the available data for Jackson Blue Spring is a bit spotty. The discharge time series reported by USGS (https://waterdata.usgs.gov/nwis) and DEP (https://floridadep.gov/sites/default/files/JacksonBlue-MerritsMill-nutr-tmdl.pdf) only ranged from 2005 to 2010. Over that period of time, Jackson Blue discharge ranged from 38 to 219 cfs, a massive 576% difference in magnitude from the lowest to highest discharge. The temperatures at the headspring were comparatively cool (USGS data from 1972-2023: 20.5-21oC; 21.1-22.3oC for me). The dissolved oxygen concentrations were high for a spring (USGS: 7-10.3 mg/L at the headspring; 7.05-9.17 mg/L for me). The high values for the headspring suggest that the water issuing from the spring is not underground long. High dissolved oxygen downstream also would have been related to the large producer (plants and algae) populations. The conductivity was low, as expected given the spring’s distance from the Gulf: 197-287 microS/cm for USGS and 280-310 microS/cm for me.

For many of the biggest springs in Florida, the state developed MFL (Minimum flow and level) plans to maintain spring discharges and TMDL (Total Maximum Daily Load) plans to restore nutrient concentrations. I could not find an MFL plan for Jackson Blue, but the TMDL plan reported nitrate concentrations that ranged from 3.1-3.4 mg/L in recent years, an order of magnitude higher than the concentration in 1960 and than the background concentration of 0.35 mg/L used for many springs across the state. DEP examined the isotopic ratios of the nitrogen (14N vs 15N) in Jackson Blue and came to the conclusion that most of the nitrate emerging from the springs was from fertilizers. As organisms process nitrate, they use the lighter 14N before the heavier 15N, so their waste tends to have a low ratio of 14N:15N. The reported phosphorus concentrations, happily, all were low, about 0.02 mg/L.

Figure from: https://floridadep.gov/sites/default/files/JacksonBlue-MerritsMill-nutr-tmdl.pdf

Weeki Wachee Spring

March 2024

View of the mermaid show building from “Buccaneer Bay”, looking upstream at the headspring (top) and down the run at the waterslide (bottom).

Weeki Wachee Spring was not what I expected. I had only been to the park once in the early-mid 2000s for a conference on spring conservation. I brought my sons who were smallish at the time and they had a blast playing on the water slide and whatnot. Therefore, I expected the water slides and, of course, the mermaid theater for which the park is so famous. However, I did not expect the gloriously blue and clear water of the run below the water park. It was wonderful.

The park sits at the southern end of a swath of undeveloped coastal land and salt marsh, due east of Brooksville. Like Homosassa Springs, the west of the springhead is green coastal forest and salt marsh, but downstream development punctures the green between the spring and the Gulf. However, there the comparison ends. Homosassa is wide, deep, and relatively straight with development right outside the park and all down the north side. Weeki Wachee is narrow, shallow, windy, and turquoise, with a substantial house-less stretch of the run just downstream of the park.

Google Earth images showing Weeki Wachee State Park, Wildlife Management Area, and nature coast development (top) and the blue of the run, even visible by satellite (bottom).

Happily, the park let me in before the visitors arrived, so I was able to photograph unobstructed.

Features of the park, often highlighting the mermaids.

Despite the built environment of the mermaid theater, Buccaneer Bay, and the support buildings surrounding the headspring, the run was clear and wonderfully blue.

View downstream of Buccaneer Bay, looking at the ecotour dock (top) and of the run further downstream as I floated downstream (bottom).

When I first started filming, the park was very quiet. After a quick splash, I saw a diver disappear into the large headspring. This round-ish headspring measures approximately 100 ft across and the mermaids swim down to a depth of about 20 ft and cave divers report that the main pool is 45 ft deep (https://www.floridastateparks.org/learn/history-weeki-wachee, http://www.caveatlas.com/systems/system.asp?ID=89). However, divers have explored down past 400 ft, making it the deepest cave system in the US (https://www.swfwmd.state.fl.us/projects/springs/weeki-wachee). As I set up my first camera, I had no idea that someone had a rock soundtrack going underwater for their work that day until I watched the video that I collected.

A three legged turtle swimming to Ozzy Osbourne’s Crazy Train.

I was pleasantly surprised at the diversity of fish, even at the headspring. I recorded a variety of shiners and sunfish (Lepomis spp.), bluefin killifish (Lucania goodei), largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides), gar (Lepisosteus sp.-in the distance so harder to ID), striped mullet (Mugil cephalus), Atlantic needlefish (Strongylura marina), and sheepshead (Archosargus probatocephalus) in addition to several turtles. None of these fish are rare, but still the diversity was higher than several other springs that I visited.

The above-water view as I set my camera downstream of Buccaneer Bay (seen in the distance, top) and the underwater view as bluegill (Lepomis macrochirus) and spotted sunfish (Lepomis punctatus) checked out the camera.

A largemouth bass posing at this same site with striped mullet and sheepshead in the background.

Further downstream: so many bass (top) and two Atlantic needlefish facing off (bottom).

There also were some fun predator-prey dynamics. A bass dropped down the bottom of the run, right behind some algae, a little like a police officer positioning their car behind some trees to spot speeders. After the bass disappeared, its potential prey (shiners) reappeared.

The bass landing on the bottom (speed 500x).

Shiners coming out of hiding in a very busy spot (video speed is 1000x).

I floated downstream through the clear blue water and eelgrass (Valisneria americana) with riparian forest on either side. I turned around when I saw the first building, which appeared to be some kind of camp.

Google Earth image showing where I turned around.

Downstream, there was more algae and somewhat more suspended particles, but it was still lovely. I picked up more mullet and needlefish downstream. I also filmed some rainwater killifish (Lucania parva), which I have observed in springs with higher conductivities.

Mullet scraping off the algae growing on the eelgrass with needlefish in the background.

Mullet and a sheepshead.

Later, I paddled upstream from the neighborhood where I had rented an Airbnb on a canal. Here boat traffic was higher and much of the vegetation disappeared, although there still were scattered beds of eelgrass.

Google Earth image of the area between the neighborhoods.

In many of the areas, the bottom was pure sand and I picked up an additional salt-tolerant fish, the tidewater mojarra (Eucinostomus harengulus).

Tidewater mojarra.

Needlefish and mullet downstream of the park.

Just upstream of Weeki Wachee Gardens, a dredge operation was deepening the channel. Even so, as I paddled late in the day, after the workday was done, I saw a manatee.

Dredge operation upstream of Weeki Wachee Gardens.

I also ventured downstream Weeki Wachee Gardens, heading toward the Gulf. As I floated downstream, I saw crevalle jacks, gar, and snook as well as the bass, mullet, needlefish, and sheepshead that I observed upstream.

As I left the neighborhood, the landscape changed to saltmarsh and the water got very salty and murky. However, I could just barely make out a gulf killifish (Fundulus grandis), more mojarra, and what appeared to be a snapper.

Google Earth Image of the area where I videoed downstream of Weeki Wachee Gardens (top) and a view of the sunset over the salt marsh (bottom).

Gulf killfish in the saltier water downstream of the neighborhoods.

Like the other Nature Coast springs, the springshed of Weeki Wachee is highly developed to the east, but relatively untouched to the west.

Weeki Wachee springshed landuse map (from https://www.swfwmd.state.fl.us/projects/springs/weeki-wachee/dashboard)

The SW FL Water Management District water quality dashboard indicates that the water clarity today (6/10/24) is 67 feet at the headspring, allowing clear views of the mermaids (and fish). It produces somewhere between 80 and 140 million gallons per day, making it a first magnitude spring. A graph on the dashboard suggests that disharge is higher now than it was in the mid-2000s. The spring is very slightly warmer than many Florida springs (SWFWMD = 75.1oF, I measured 23.6-24.1oC) and the dissolved oxygen concentrations are moderately low (SWFWMD = 1.81 mg/L at the headspring today, I measured 2.09 near the headspring). The oxygen increased as I traveled downstream, reaching 8.18 mg/L in the portion of the run between the two neighborhoods, likely due to a combination of turbulence, oxygen production by eelgrass upstream, and the more abundant algae in this region of the spring. The conductivity of the upstream portion of the spring is relatively low (SWFWMD = 370 microS/cm, I measured ~360 microS/cm). Below Weeki Wachee Gardens, the conductivity shot up considerably to 3960-5250 microS/cm), likely accounting for the larger number of salt tolerant species in this region of the run.

Like many Florida springs, the nitrate concentration of Weeki Wachee has increased over time. However, for the last decade, it has maintained a fairly constant, but very high, level (the background level used for DEP planning for springs in FL is 0.35 mg/L). The seminal studies on nitrate in FL springs showed increases through the 1970s, but Weeki Wachee was at the commonly-used baseline in the early 1990s. Fortunately, Weeki Wachee has been monitored for well over 100 years, so I was able to find nitrate data back to the 1970s (the earlier data would be for streamflow only). In fact, Weeki Wachee does show this same increase in nitrate that has been observed in other springs–it just started a lower concentration (~0.1 mg/L). Hopefully, the leveling off that the data suggest has happened will be a long term trend (even better would be a decrease, of course).

Increase in nitrate concentration in Weeki Wachee spring over time from the 1990s to the present (from: https://www.swfwmd.state.fl.us/projects/springs/weeki-wachee/dashboard).

Increase in nitrate concentration in Weeki Wachee from the 1970s to the 1990s (data from USGS NWIS: https://maps.waterdata.usgs.gov/mapper/index.html). The upper end of this graph matches the start of the graph above perfectly, showing that the nitrate concentrations steadily increased from the mid 1970s to the early 2010s.

Wakulla and Sally Ward Springs

February 2024

At a discharge of 400 million gallons of water per day, Wakulla Springs is one of Florida’s monster spring systems. Its wide headspring drops off quickly to the vent 185 ft below the surface, fed by an extensive cave network that has connections from just south of Tallahassee to the Gulf. Sally Ward Spring enters Wakulla just below the headspring.

The Wakulla headspring looks like a deep dark hole on the map. The run beyond it is wide and fairly shallow. The water labeled “Wakulla River” on the map is actually Sally Ward Spring.

In some ways, it is one of the best protected springs in the state as well as one of the largest. When he deeded the land to the state, Edward Ball stipulated that the general population would only be allowed beyond the swimming area on escorted tours. He wanted to ensure that the spring would not be loved to death, as they say. As a result, the swimming area with its dive platform, shown in the opening photograph, is the only way that an individual can get on the water without getting a ticket for a pontoon boat ride. Much of the landscape to the east and west of the spring is heavily protected.

Map of the big bend area of Florida, with Wakulla Springs shown south of Tallahassee.

However, given the extensive connections in the region, the water leaving the vent has likely been impacted at multiple points within its springshed. Landscape impacts are a reality for all Florida springs, but the Wakulla connections are especially vulnerable (an infographic by FusionSparks media is particularly helpful in seeing the flow direction: http://www.fusionspark.com/portfolio/wakulla-springs-interactive-graphic/)

In addition to protecting the spring from heavy human use, Edward Ball also provided the park with a mansion that functions as a lodge and restaurant now. While it has amenities like wifi, history lives on in the lodge.

The entrance to the Lodge.

The lobby of the Lodge with hand painted ceiling beams.

A whole row of historic photos grace the hallway walls.

The Lodge at night, photographed with my back to the spring.

A visit to Wakulla Springs is fun on many levels, but I was there to work. I started on Sally Ward Spring.

Sally Ward Spring

The first Sally Ward vent.

Most people miss Sally Ward Spring. Its runs roughly parallel to the driveway into the park and the access point to the spring is shortly after the entrance to the park off the highway. However, it is difficult to see from the road and there is no obvious parking for it. I must confess that I have not seen the absolute source of all of its water as there is water running from a culvert that runs under the road. However, it seems that most of the water is coming from the two vents below the culvert, and they shimmer with the aqua blue that make so many Florida springs lovely.

The second vent was in a bit of shadow as it was late in the day.

Many of the fish that I observed were mosquitofish (Gambusia holbrooki), shiners, and sunfish of various species (Lepomis sp.). However, there were more species on the footage than I remembered initially: a fair number of bluefin killifish (Lucania goodei) milling around, some striped mullet (Mugil cephalus) streaming past the camera, a surprising number of largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides), a golden silverside (Labidesthes vanhyningi), and a couple of turtles.

A largemouth bass with a bluefin killifish getting out of its way.

A shoal of mullet.

These small fish originally appeared to be shiners. However, when I zoomed in on the photo, their tails looked square rather than forked, so I think that they are juvenile bluefin killifish narrowly avoiding 10 (!) largemouth bass. I counted a dozen bass on another video downstream.

A golden silverside and a turtle.

I had originally intended to film at 5 locations on Sally Ward Spring (my typical plan). However, there was a large alligator between station 5 and me. I do not usually worry too much about alligators while I am in my boat, but the run was very narrow and I was warned about an alligator at this exact spot in 2017. While looking right at me, it sank down into the water and I decided instead to film where the hiking trail intersects the run downstream. I was rewarded with my favorite video of the entire trip.

The bridge over the Sally Ward run.

Two largemouth bass in Sally Ward run at the bridge.

My favorite: a brown water snake (Nerodia taxispilota), identified by Terry Farrell, foraging on Sally Ward run at the bridge.

Wakulla Spring

Sunrise at Wakulla headspring. Part of the vent was still in shadow.

The next morning I sampled Wakulla Spring at 8 am. Wakulla in the early morning is glorious. The massive spring feels almost prehistoric, with its gnarled old cypress trees running in a line down the north side of the run and petrified cypress stumps under the water line.

Some of the ancient cypress trees (top) and a petrified stump under the water in a photo looking back towards the headspring (bottom). The pontoons are the tour and park service boats.

Although the spring was not as clear as I had hoped, the clarity was still good enough to work. The ranger told me that the spring usually clears up after spring break, but the extent of the brown water is new, likely the result of groundwater abstraction upstream in the aquifer (https://news.fsu.edu/news/science-technology/2018/10/24/why-is-wakulla-springs-water-turning-brown-fsu-researchers-may-have-the-answer/). The video below, taken at the headspring, gives an idea of the volume of water expelled and how dark it was this past February. It appears that the darker water was denser than the clearer water, although this effect could have been an artifact of the camera.

Florida gar (Lepisosteus platyrhincus) in the Wakulla headspring.

Some striped mullet munching their way down the spring. It looks like there is a band of darker water above the sediment.

As I worked my way downstream, I was surprised to see a manatee. When I surveyed at Wakulla seven years ago, I saw none.

A manatee friend next to my boat.

Besides the impressively large spring, the gorgeous old cypress trees, the mastodon bones, and the chorus of birds in the morning, one of the notable things about Wakulla Spring is its cohort of beautiful largemouth bass and Florida gar. In addition to the bass and gar, a variety of poeciliids (mosquitofish and sailfin mollies, Poecilia latipinna), killifish, shiners, sunfish, and mullet made the fish assemblage fairly diverse. Turtles were abundant, too.

Largemouth bass.

Some lovely redbreast sunfish (Lepomis auritus).

A big seminole killifish (Fundulus seminolis) and a couple of spotted sunfish (Lepomis punctatus).

More striped mullet.

A turtle at the confluence of Sally Ward and Wakulla Springs.

As I worked my way down the run and up the side channel, I was passed by the park service staff escorting a couple of scientists, one an older gentleman. I am not sure who he was, but he asked me if I was filming the little fish. He said that bluefin killifish disappeared from the spring for a while. Happily, I filmed a lots of them.

Bluefin killifish and a redear sunfish (Lepomis microlophus).

My only disappointment was that I failed to get on video the baby alligators that I scared (by accident) from a nest or the older (but still small) alligator from the bank. All I got was the trail.

The trail of a startled alligator.

Because I was trying to look for saltwater influences on spring fish assemblages, I decided to try filming downstream at the State Road 30 bridge. Although I saw a crab and a couple of sunfish, most of the animals that I observed were olive nerites (Vitta usnea), which represent a brackish species that occurs in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean.

This video of olive nerites crawling is sped up 3000x. A small bass zooms through the video if you can catch sight of it.

With the exception of the tannin stained water coming out of the vent, the water quality of Wakulla Spring appears to be generally fairly good. The likely culprit for the increase in tannin-stained water coming out of the vent, according to FSU scientists, is higher groundwater withdrawals to support growing populations in the region. Tannins are produced naturally when plant material decomposes in swampy conditions, much like steeping tea. The tannin-stained water then enters the aquifer in the regional forests naturally. However, prior to increases in groundwater withdrawals, there was enough clear water in the system that this tannic water was diluted or flowed elsewhere.

With respect to nutrients, the spring has undergone several studies and the history of this work is outlined in the spring’s MFL plan (minimum flow and level). One such study, in 2004-2005, suggested that the city of Tallahassee’s water treatment facility was contributing a great deal of nitrate to the spring due to leakage through the underground connections in the limestone. The water treatment facility was upgraded in 2012. Later, BMAP (basin management action plan) and MFL programs were developed for the spring in 2018 and 2021, respectively. The BMAP, which was primarily focused on nutrient abatement for the spring, again identified Tallahassee’s water reclamation facility as the largest contributor to nitrate concentrations in the spring. As a result, the facility was upgraded again, this time to “advanced wastewater treatment”. The MFL document, which was primarily focused on water quantity but also included water quality and ecological data, reported that by 2021 septic tanks were the largest contributor of nutrients (34%), followed by atmospheric deposition (27%), and farming (21%). As a result, Leon County aggressively constructed four major septic-to-sewer projects, which put homeowners on sewer rather than septic, between 2019-2021. Since the late 1990s, the nitrate concentrations appear to have dropped by almost half. It appears that the biggest improvement was from that 2012 upgrade, but that the other two programs, initiated by the BMAP and the MFL, have continued the nitrate concentration decline towards the 0.35 mg/L baseline goal.

Figure from: Recommended Minimum Flows for Wakulla and Sally Ward Springs, Wakulla County, Florida, Northwest Florida Water Management District.

The conductivity (freshwater version of salinity) of Wakulla and Sally Ward springs has tended to be moderately low for Florida springs (~300+ microS/cm). My measurements agreed with this trend (308-346 microS/cm) in the two springs and the conductivity was only slightly higher in the Wakulla River at the State Road 30 bridge (334-380 microS/cm). Similarly, the dissolved oxygen has tended to be fairly low in Wakulla Spring (1-3 mg/L). The dissolved oxygen that I measured was fairly low at the Wakulla vent (2.0 mg/L) and in the vicinity of the Sally Ward vents (3.0 mg/L). However, the oxygen downstream of the Wakulla headspring was a bit higher (3.3-6.6 mg/L), as it was in Sally Ward (3.9-8.4 mg/L), likely due to the large eelgrass (Valisneria americana) and algae beds.

Hillsborough River: Sulphur, Purity, and Ulele Springs

February 2024

The Hillsborough River springs were about as different from the Econfina Creek springs as Florida springs could be. Whereas the Econfina Creek springs were somewhat wild and remote, the Hillsborough River springs were city springs with echoes of swimmers and picnickers past and whispers of visitors future. All three springs have exceedingly short runs that flow into the lower half of the Hillsborough River in the heart of Tampa.

The location of the three springs (Sulphur, Purity, and Ulele, right to left) in the Tampa metro area.

Sulphur Spring

I visited Sulphur Spring first, after securing a permit from some very nice people at Film Tampa Bay (I thought that process was funny because the group issues permits for companies making feature films and whatnot). The park hosts two large pools. One is a round pool of spring water that fills the run through a dam. The other looks like a regular swimming pool. From the round pool, after the water goes through the dam, it travels down a short run and into the Hillsborough River. The banks of the run are partially constrained by cement and metal walls and other park structures.

The spring issues from somewhere under the round pool and the water shoots through a huge dam, marked by a red arrow, into the run below, which enters the river at the yellow arrow.

The dam on Sulphur Spring.

The corroded retaining wall along the upper part of the run across from the large dam.

A bridge and gazebo about halfway down the run.

Because it was the off season, the park was locked up tight, so I put my boat in at the river just below the spring. As I launched, I noticed some crab carapaces among the rocks, which was encouraging as I was hoping to find salt-tolerant fish in the run. Fortunately, I was able to paddle up the run from the river, passing some manatees resting in the warm outflow in the early morning.

Manatees just visible in the spring’s outflow.

The water flowing over the dam produced a plunge pool of deeper water, but the remainder of the run was quite shallow. It appeared that exotic tilapia were nesting in deeper water of the pool. Male tilapia build nests by excavating sand with their mouths. They defend these nests during breeding season, waiting for females to come deposit their eggs. However, the nests that I saw in Sulphur Spring appeared to be empty.

A likely tilapia nest in the plunge pool.

Throughout this 2024 version of the project, I have been looking for differences in fish assemblages between springs that are proximal to salt water and springs that are not. All of the fish that I observed in this spring were either salt tolerant or exotic. Of the native freshwater fish that I observed, they were all either mosquitofish (Gambusia holbrooki), which can live nearly anywhere that is not full sea water, or rainwater killifish (Lucania parva), which tend to occur near coasts in water with higher conductivity (the freshwater version of measuring salinity). Rainwater killifish are fun because they can change hue with their background, appearing almost white over sand or mottled brown over leaves. Over the algal background in Sulphur Spring, they looked mottled, but not very dark.

Rainwater killifish chasing each other in territorial displays.

Sulphur Spring also hosted a fair number of salt tolerant fish, including striped mullet (Mugil cephalus), tidewater mojarra (Euchinostomus harengulus), and Atlantic needlefish (Strongylura marina).

Some mullet that I startled as they were coming up into the run.

Tidewater mojarra darting around with the rainwater killifish.

An Atlantic needlefish. The water clarity was a bit low, so it blends into the background.

This spring was my first experience with the dense exotic fish populations in the Tampa area. Having worked on exotic aquatic organisms for decades, I have looked at maps of exotic fish distributions on the USGS Nonindigenous Aquatic Species website. Even so, I was not prepared for the scale of the issue. If I were to evaluate the biomass (number of fish multiplied by the average weight of a fish) of native and exotic fish in Sulphur Spring, the exotic fish would far outweigh the native fish, I am quite sure. And in Sulphur Spring, they were all blackchin tilapia (Sarotherodon melanotheron).

A video of blackchin tilapia sped up 500 times.

The color patterns on the blackchin tilapia were highly variable. Some were almost all silver, some had golden sections on their sides, and some had spots in various places around their heads.

In addition to exotic fish, Sulphur Spring hosted loads of exotic snails: quilted melania (Tarebia granifera). These snails occur throughout Florida. No doubt other snails occur in the run as well, but their numbers would have been swamped by the hugely abundant quilted melania, I suspect.

Snails dotting the Sulphur Spring run (top) and a close up of the species: quilted melania (bottom).

On my way out of the spring, I stopped to take a look at the recreational area of the park.

The swimming pool features a large pink frog (?) and a yellow water slide.

Purity Spring

After finishing Sulphur Spring, I ventured over to Purity Spring, which was very small. The headspring was surrounded by a small cement wall, presumably to produce a pool for contemplation. It had a short, sandy run that flowed into the Hillsborough River through a culvert.

Purity headspring with its retaining wall.

The clear and sandy Purity Spring run.

Purity Spring outflow into the Hillsborough River.

Given that the connection to the river was through a culvert, I almost did not film here. But I was already there, so I decided to go ahead. The wall around the headspring precluded easy fish movement, although fish from the run were present, and there were no plants in this little pool. However, downstream the run was filled with plants and leaves. Most of the fish in the run were mosquitofish (Gambusia holbrooki) and sailfin mollies (Poecilia latipinna).

Male sailfin molly showing off his blue and gold breeding colors on his tail. Some individuals can get quite extravagant with huge fins and bright colors.

As I watched the mosquitofish living their lives on the video, I was surprised to see three chanchita (Cichlasoma dimerus) timidly approach the camera. They jerk forward and stop as if they are ready to dart off at a moment’s notice.

Mosquitofish and chanchita in the Purity Springs run.

I was surprised again when I saw another exotic species new to me in the wild: the convict cichlid (Amatitlania nigrofasciata). I was starting to see a theme.

A stripy little convict cichlid darts through the foreground. Chanchita and mosquitofish mill around in the background.

This spring also hosted an exotic snail, a different melania: the red-rimmed melania (Melanoides tuberculata).

Red-rimmed melania dotting the sandy substrate of Purity Springs.

The spring itself had much lower salt concentration than the river, producing distortion as the spring water entered the river.

Visual distortion due to the difference in salinity of the water leaving the spring and the water of the river.

Ulele Spring

Ulele Spring, in Water Works Park, is in some ways a brand new spring. I have been told that the original spring was under the law building behind it and the water has been piped out from underneath the building through a culvert and into the restored run of the spring.

The law building in the background sits atop the source of Ulele Spring.

Like the spring, Water Works Park is brand new as well. It was a brownfield site that was completely reclaimed to produce a green space, a splash park, a dog park, restaurants, apartments… and Ulele Spring.

View of apartments (I think) and retail space from the spring.

View of the Ulele Run with Ulele Restaurant alongside. As I worked, people ate and relaxed on the patio.

Public art in the green space next to the Ulele Spring run.

A view looking down the spring at the bridge that spans the run. Just beyond the bridge is the Hillsborough River.

As I worked, a young boy and his dad stopped out of the stream of people walking late in the day. They asked me if I was fishing. After I told them what I was doing, they thanked me for my work. So nice.

When I began to review the footage that I collected at Ulele, I was stunned by two things: 1) the incredibly high density of fish and 2) the incredibly high density of large, exotic fish. I have never seen anything like it.

A very flashy male sailfin molly courting females with a huge dorsal fin and gold color in the foreground (top) and very pregnant female mollies (bottom) in Ulele Spring. Not only are there a lot of mollies and mosquitofish in the foreground, but there are lots of big cichlids milling around in the background. It is a lot of fish biomass.

Beyond the poeciliids (mosquitofish and mollies), there were only a few native, truly freshwater fish. I recorded a few killifish (bluefin, Lucania parva, and least, Heterandria formosa). In the upstream area, almost all of the other fish were exotic. I recorded more chanchita, convict cichlids, blackchin cichlids, but I also observed blue tilapia (Oreochromis aureus) and Mayan cichlids (Mayaheros urophthalmus). The exotic fish biomass was astounding.

A large blue tilapia with a very blue snout (top) and Mayan cichlids with blackchin cichlids in the background (bottom).

Downstream, below a small weir, I observed more marine fish: common snook (Centropomus undecimalis), striped mojarra (Eugerres plumieri), tidewater mojarra (Eucinostomus harengulus), and Atlantic needlefish (Strongylura marina).

Tidewater mojarra darting around the foreground with a snook cruising through the background.

Striped mojarra with blackchin tilapia in the background.

Even with all that fish biomass, a turtle ventured into the spring.

Mayan cichlid in the foreground with blackchin cichlids in the background and mosquitofish and mollies above and below. Shortly after the end of this clip, the Mayan was overrun by more Mayans and blackchins.

I have been looking for saltwater influences on springs and I definitely found them in two of the three of these springs. Purity was too small and disconnected to have salt tolerant fish roaming into and out of it, but the other two springs hosted a combination of freshwater, salt tolerant, and exotic fish. These mixtures of freshwater and salt tolerant fish were no surprise as the conductivity (something like the freshwater version of salinity) in Sulphur Spring (5.3 microS/cm) and in Ulele Spring below the weir (5-5.1 microS/cm) was 25-50 times the conductivity in most of the other springs that I have visited (Ulele conductivity above the weir = 0.7 microS/cm, Purity conductivity = 0.5 microS/cm). According to the eminent Florida journalist and writer, Craig Pittman, Sulphur Spring has experienced increases in salinity as underground connections have changed with landuse on the surface. In Ulele, the high conductivity water below the weir probably was river water.

Finding current water quality data on springs in Florida can be a challenge as it has been collected somewhat spottily, if at all. Nitrogen data for Sulphur Springs suggest that the nitrate concentrations have not been particularly high, but the phosphate concentrations have been an order of magnitude higher than background. High nutrient concentrations could contribute to the abundant algae that I observed in the run, although there is likely more to that story. My data suggest that all three of these springs were particularly warm for Florida springs (25-26C). As for oxygen, for all but the walled-off headspring of Purity Springs, the oxygen concentrations were high for Florida springs (Sulphur: 5.4-9.1 mg/L, Purity: 1.6-4.7 mg/L, Ulele: 6.7-7.9 mg/L). However, I cannot know the oxygen concentrations at the sources of Sulphur and Ulele as I was sampling water that had gone through a dam at Sulphur and through a conduit at Ulele.

Econfina Blue Spring

February, 2024

Some Florida springs seep from soil, some gush from giant underground gashes in the limestone, and some spurt from caves. Washington Blue Spring is of the latter type with the cool, clear water rushing out of two caves (each with multiple openings).

View of the entrance to the right-hand spring cave (the dark area off to the right of the platform, top) and of the left-hand spring cave (middle) with its multiple openings (bottom).

The water flow produced by the two caves produces a Y-shaped spring. There actually is a third arm (producing a trident?), although I may have missed a vent on that arm. The Washington Blue Spring system is just upstream of Gainer, Pitt, Sylvan, and Williford springs on Econofina Creek. Econfina Creek flows into Deerpoint Lake and eventually St. Andrews Bay at Panama City. The region is agricultural to the east, water management area to the west, and a mixture of both upstream.

Maps showing the morphology of the spring (top) and the location relative to other springs surveyed.

Of the springs that I surveyed on Econfina Creek, this spring had a higher diversity of fish, my main goal in these visits, but also of human experiences. The human density at the park was low, but a few souls were enjoying their Friday morning outside. I heard discussions of the fish present, but also of bar dynamics, salads as healthy eating, and goats as pets. A friendly bear of a man on a paddle board shared his music, Meat Puppets “Backwater”, with the fish and me. Alas, I did not get a picture of the stinkin’ cute pet baby goat that was investigating the sand bar formed by the confluence of Washington Blue Spring with Econfina Creek.

Fish with a soundtrack. The ticking sounds in the background were of animal origin (crayfish?), but the Meat Puppets was being conducted through the water from a boombox and through a paddleboard. I got a big wave from the man on the paddleboard. The fish seem unaffected by the music or the clicking.

This spring was blanketed with a lot more live algae than the lower Econfina springs. Perhaps as a result, the springsnails (Elimia sp.) had really proliferated, especially on the limestone and sandy substrate near the caves.

A mixture of live and senescent algae at two sites along the Washington Blue Spring run. The brightest green algae was likely Vaucheria, a yellow-green species that resembles green hair.

Spring snails on the limestone and sand (top) and a closeup of a snail on my hand (bottom).

I discovered that there were other snails crawling through the sediments when I sped up the film that I collected near the left cave system. Because they were buried in the sediments, I did not see a live one to pick up and identify.

Unidentified snails crawling at 2000x their normal speed.

Fish diversity and density was a bit higher in this spring than in the other springs the I visited on Econfina Creek in February. In addition to the shiners and sunfish that I saw at those other springs, I recorded more species of sunfish, more bass, more fundulids (killifish and topminnows), and some golden silversides (Labidesthes vanhyningi) at Washington Blue Spring. Spotted sunfish, which approached nearly every camera in central peninsula, were less abundant and more shy here. Instead, I got some footage of shiners attacking the camera.

Pretty juvenile redbreast (Lepomis auritus) and redear sunfish (Lepomis microlophus) that are a little too close to the camera and moving to be sharp (top). A golden largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides) matching the algal background (bottom).

A Russetfin topminnow (Fundulus escambiae) in the shallows near one of the caves (top) and a golden silverside and largemouth bass downstream (middle and bottom).

Shiners attacking the camera with human discussion traveling through the water in the background.

Given the high proportion of water management area land near Econfina Creek, nutrient concentrations were generally low for the period of 2009-2020 (https://protectingfloridatogether.gov/water-quality-status-dashboard). In that time period, most data points were near ~0.2 mg/L with periodic measurements up to 0.6 mg/L and a few high spikes up to 1.4+ mg/L (that would be considered quite high). Phosphorus has exhibited similar trends with most points quite low (~0.01 mg/L), virtually all points below 0.03 mg/L and just a few points in the 0.035-0.045 mg/L range. Interestingly, the oxygen concentrations were higher in the shallow left arm (3.8-9.9 mg/L) than on the deeper right arm (1.9-2.8 mg/L) of the spring, likely due to the abundant algae. Downstream, the oxygen concentrations were 6.3-7.1 mg/L. The conductivity was low 1280-1450 microS/cm for all samples.

Econofina: Pitt, Sylvan, and Williford Springs

February, 2024

Pitt (above), Sylvan, and Williford springs are just upstream of the Gainer springs group on Econfina Creek. The region around Pitt and Sylvan Recreation Area hosts a cluster of springs that contribute to Econfina Creek, which flows into Deerpoint Lake and eventually St. Andrews Bay at Panama City. The region is agricultural to the east, water management area to the west, and a mixture of both upstream.

Map of the landscape around Pitt, Sylvan, and Williford springs (top) with a closer version showing some of the many springs in the vicinity (bottom).

Pitt Spring has a parking area adjacent to it, but walking trails connect with the other two spring systems. I raced to visit these springs before I ran out of light for the day. Because I had to use a boat to get there, I visited the Sylvan Spring system first. In my haste, I only found the spring system by the clear water flowing out into the flooding Econfina River. I paddled up the short run to a flat, sandy underwater plain that was largely covered with dead algae. Near the bank at the end of this plain, I saw a tell-tail sign of spring vents: circular rippling on the surface.

The three Sylvan vents at the surface.

Underwater, the vents were obvious by the live, bright green algae waving in the flow.

Sylvan Spring vents underwater. Notice the fluttering green algae.

The dead algae-covered sand plain near the Sylvan vents.

The fish density was quite low in this spring system and virtually all of the fish that I observed were sunfish of one species or another. I only observed larger numbers of fish, interestingly, at a spot where the water was murky with suspended material. Here, the bluegills were undoubtedly eating invertebrates from the decaying algae.

A spotted (Lepomis punctatus) and a longear sunfish (Lepomis megalotis) in clear water and bluegill (Lepomis macrochirus) in the murkier water.

Near the confluence, there were lots of snails covering fallen log, although I sadly did not pick any up to identify them. Next time.

Snails dotted all over a fallen log with a lone sunfish in the background.

The river was running fast due to the flooding and I flew back to the canoe launch.

Floating down the Econfina River to the canoe launch from Sylvan Spring.

Once I pulled the boat out of the water, I visited Pitt Spring on foot as the confluence with the river was blocked. Pitt Spring was a contrast to the Sylvan system: lovely, clear and blue, with a large, round vent and almost no run. However, the fish diversity was low there as well. I thought that there were only shiners and sunfish, mostly bluegills (Lepomis macrochirus), but when I scanned through the extra footage, I discovered a fish new to me: a lovely little russetfin topminnow (Fundulus escambiae).

Shiners (top), bluegill (middle), and a russetfin topminnow (bottom) at the Pitt headspring.

After filming at Pitt Spring, I hurried up to Williford Spring by car. A trail leads to the spring from the Pitt/Sylvan parking lot, but I was running out of daylight. Had I had more time, I could have paddled up to it, but it was a bit of a trek, so I filmed on foot only.

The Williford Spring vent at sunset.

The fish density in Williford Spring also was low. I only observed mosquitofish (Gambusia holbrooki) and a few bluefish killifish (Lucania parva). I was rewarded, however, with a tiny juvenile musk turtle in one of the videos. I have seen an adult musk turtle (Sternotherus sp.) mistaken for a juvenile snapping turtle because they are so small; the juvenile musk turtle is barely bigger than a quarter.

Underwater views on either side of the Williford vent, with mosquitofish at the surface and a tiny juvenile musk turtle in the lower left hand corner of the bottom photo.

All three of these springs benefited from restoration projects between 2012 and 2015. Projects included bank stabilization and stormwater runoff reduction. I could not find specific water quality information for the springs, but nutrient concentrations for Econfina Creek have been generally low for the period of 2009-2020 (https://protectingfloridatogether.gov/water-quality-status-dashboard). Most data points have been in the ~0.2 mg/L range with periodic measurements up to 0.6 mg/L and a few high spikes up to 1.4+ mg/L (that would be considered quite high) during the period of the restoration. Phosphorus has exhibited similar trends with most points quite low (~0.01 mg/L), virtually all points below 0.03 mg/L and just a few points in the 0.035-0.045 mg/L range. My oxygen measurements were low for the headspring of each system (0.45-1.95 mg/L) and the measurements for the Sylvan run only reached as high as 4.72 mg/L for one sample. The conductivity was low 1330-1400 microS/cm for all samples.

Ponce de Leon Spring

February, 2024

Ponce de Leon Spring was a visually mellow contrast to Vortex Spring. Personally, I find reflections in water compelling, so I liked how the reflections made a zigzag out of the stairs in the foreground and the light on the wall in the background.

Ponce de Leon Spring is in a state park several miles south of Vortex Spring and it flows into the same creek, Sandy Creek. The park sits in a swath of forest just south of the town of Ponce de Leon. Like Vortex Spring, the spring water ends up in the Choctawatchee River, via Sandy Creek, and eventually in the Choctawatchee Bay, which flows into the Gulf at Destin.

The location of Ponce de Leon Spring just east of Defuniak Springs and west of Tallahassee (top) and the forest matrix in and around the state park (bottom).

The headspring was developed as a swimming area with a large stone and cement wall along one side, complete with a diving board into its relatively deep vent. When I arrived on a chilly February day, no one was using this diving board, so photographing the lovely spring was easy.

The diving board into the Ponce de Leon headspring (top) and a color view of its lovely vent (bottom).

The spring flow coming out of the headspring was somewhat restricted by a weir to produce a pool for swimming.

The weir with a bridge across the run.

Despite this restriction, I recorded a lot of fish in the headspring area, including lots of shiners, some lovely iridescent dollar sunfish (Lepomis marginatus), and quite a few largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides). Perhaps in part because of the restriction, the headspring was somewhat blanketed by algae.

Shiners, a dollar sunfish (lower righthand corner), and largemouth bass in the blue of the Ponce de Leon vent.

Below the weir, the run turned shallow and sandy with relatively little algae.

The sandy Ponce de Leon run below the weir.

In addition to the many shiners (including schools of larval shiners) and sunfish, I was lucky enough to catch a darter on camera. Given the distance and lighting, I can only suggest that it is probably a swamp darter (Etheostoma fusiforme).

A school of larval shiners moving (from the right) into a landscape of cypress knees and their reflections reminiscent of stalagmites and stalactites in a cave.

Dollar sunfish in the Ponce de Leon run.

A darter cautiously moving through the detritus and plants.

The Ponce de Leon run is fairly short and enters Sandy Creek, which is as brown as Ponce de Leon is clear and blue. And right above the confluence of the two, I captured a whole shoal of spotted suckers (Minytrema melanops) with one lonely largemouth bass that appeared to be moving in from the creek.

Like Vortex Spring, I had trouble finding a lot of data on Ponce de Leon Spring. However, The Springs of Florida USGS publication contained some data, one set from 1972 and another from 2002. Again like Votex, the temperature of Ponce de Leon was a little colder than the central Florida springs (19-20C vs. 21-24C). The dissolved oxygen was reasonable for a spring (~3 mg/L) and the conductivity was on the low side (~200 microS/cm). My real time measurements were similar, although my oxygen measurement at the headspring was a bit higher (4.7 mg/L), reaching 5.7 mg/L at the confluence with the creek. Probably due to the forested landscape, the concentrations of nitrate (0.14-0.24 mg/L) and phosphate (0.022-0.028 mg/L) were low in both 1972 and 2002. This nitrate concentration is an order of magnitude lower than some of the west central Florida springs in heavily agricultural areas.

Chassahowitzka River (springs), January 2024

The springs that produce the Chassahowitzka River provided a perfect start to my new spring survey: springs that flow into the gulf, either directly or indirectly.

Chassahowitzka is situated on the “Nature Coast” between Homosassa Springs to the north and Weeki Wachee to the south, both of which are probably more famous to people from outside of Florida (posts on those two spring systems later).

To locals, however, the Chassahowitzka is famous for Seven Sisters Springs, which is a cave system near the start of the river. These seven interconnected caves are startlingly blue holes in a small landscape of rounded black and grey exposed limestone. Like the other springs of Florida, the limestone eroded unevenly over time to produce these “solution” holes.

The first of the seven sisters and, although I did brighten this photo, they really do look this blue.

The limestone rock formation that forms the Seven Sisters. I took this photo looking down the run from the cave in the first photo.

The Seven Sisters caves are home to a variety of freshwater and salt tolerant fish, such as spotted sunfish (Lepomis punctatus), grey snapper (Lutjanus griseus), and Atlantic needlefish (Strongylura marina).

Spotted sunfish (left) and grey snapper (right) with more grey snapper under the overhanging wall of the cave.

A needlefish in front of one of the caves. Needlefish were among the most prevalent fish in the survey of Chassahowitzka springs.

Although the Sisters are the most famous feature of the spring system, the flow actually starts in several spots.

This zoomed in map shows the multiple water sources that produce the Chassahowitzka River. The star shows the location of the Seven Sisters.

First, a beautiful little creek flows into the Seven Sisters. I tried to paddle up it with a friend a few years ago when the Seven Sisters was covered in brown water, obscuring them. During the rainy season, the water level can rise and the clear water can be covered tannin-stained runoff water. We did not get very far because it is blocked by many fallen trees.

The creek that flows into Seven Sisters, both above (top) and below (bottom) the water level.

A second source source of water to the river is a neighborhood of canals. A third source of water is the big main vent just downstream of the confluence of the Seven Sisters run and the canals. This big vent is just off of the boat ramp.

The view looking upstream from the vicinity of the public boat ramp. The first house in the neighborhood is just visible and the Seven Sisters is around the corner to the left.

The water flowing out of the neighborhood was very turbid, so water clarity was much lower and it was very hard to make out this large vent. However, I could just barely make out Crevalle jacks (Caranx hippos), sheepshead (Archosargus probatocephalus), needlefish, more grey snapper. These fish are all salt tolerant, but I also saw largemouth bass (Micropterus salmoides) and more spotted sunfish. Alas, my photos from the vent are not great due to the turbidity.

Crevalle jacks (top) and sheepshead (bottom) in and around the big main vent at the start of the Chassahowitzka River.

The warm water issuing from these three water sources attracted many manatees, which were all resting in the shallow water across from the boat ramp in the morning.

The last source of water to the start of the Chassahowitzka River is Crab Spring. The spring run was very shallow and the water flowed so fast that after paddling and not gaining ground, I got out and pulled my boat for part of the run.

Crab Spring run.

Unlike the other upstream areas, this run was loaded with plants and when I got to the headspring, the plants were covered in rusty deposits, probably iron. Surprisingly, the large headspring was loaded with fish: sunfish, bass (big ones!), and more needlefish.

Bass in Crab Spring with rusty algae below.

As I floated back downstream, I took a minute to film in a little hole in the plants at the side of the run and was rewarded with some of the few small fish that I observed on the river.

Sailfin mollies (Poecilia latipinna) near the surface and a rainwater killifish (Lucania parva) near the bottom. This shot is not amazing, but it was interesting how scarce the small fish were other than in this little protected area in the algae.

After leaving Crab Spring, I floated downstream towards Baird Creek and “The Crack”. Along the way, I stopped in the “Snapper Hole”, which is a little pool along the Chassahowitzka run. It had even lower water clarity than the main vent, so I decided not to video there. However, as I floated in the middle of the pool, I realized that I was surrounded by manatees. It was a peaceful little interlude to the work.

My last stop on my Chassahowitzka survey was Baird Creek, given my love of sandy creeks with tree canopy, it was a highlight, for sure. It is pretty right off the River, but it gets much more special up near “The Crack”.

The lower run of Baird Creek (top) and the upper portion near “The Crack” (bottom). It started raining a little as I paddled and the spring started steaming.

“The Crack” itself also was a bit murky, but I was happy to see some different fish there: tidewater mojarra (Eucinostomus harengulus) and gulf killifish (Fundulus grandis). I also saw more sunfish, bass, sailfin mollies, and of course, needlefish.

“The Crack” with a rope swing to jump into the vent.

Tidewater mojarra (top) and gulf killifish (bottom)

In addition to the manatees and fish, I was also joined on this trip by a variety of other animals. I got a few shots of fun birds on the trip, although the only photo that I actually liked was this little blue heron (Egretta caerulea).

Now I will make a note about the water quality. First, the goal of this study is to learn about how saltwater connections affect spring fish assemblages. I definitely recorded many salt tolerant fish in this spring system, which was fun and gratifying. However, the pattern of conductivity (a measure of the number of ions, including NaCl salt like in the ocean) is not clear to me. The ion concentration in the vicinity of the Seven Sisters and the main vent was very low, typical of freshwater, but the ion concentration at Crab Spring was 1/5 of seawater. The Crab Spring vent was only on the order of 100 m away from Seven Sisters, so I have some research to do about the “plumbing” underneath the Chassahowitzka. The conductivity of Baird Creek was even a little higher than that of Crab Spring.

The patterns of conductivity are interesting to think about and not necessarily related to human intervention. The turbidity coming out of the neighborhood of canals upstream of the main vent is much more likely to be related to those houses and other development to the east of Chassahowitzka. Although the land to the west of the springs is preserved as wildlife management area, outstanding Florida water, etc., the land to the east is thickly developed. The turbidity is likely a combination of inorganic particulates (just look at all the stuff floating past the manatees) and algae. Based on USGS data, the nitrate concentrations are not super high, roughly on the order of 0.5 mg/L, which is above background for many springs, but not nearly as high as I have seen on some other springs. I also looked for changes in discharge and salinity. It appears that over the period of record (1997 to now), discharge has increased slightly, in contrast to many other big springs in the center of the state. The influence of the proximal Gulf likely affects the pressure in the aquifer under Chassahowitzka, keeping the discharge high. The period of record for salinity was super short (2016 to now), but there was a negative relationship between discharge and salinity over this really, really short record. More to come…