THE WATSON PLACE

DAY 7 (28 Jan)

Our penultimate stop and after all the trials and tribulations of the preceding week and a half, this was the one that provoked the most unease. Strangely too, the wind dropped and for several hours there was not a sound. Not a ripple, splash, rustle of leaves, chatter of birdsong……nothing. It is quite unerving to have no sound in such an open, outdoor space.

The days travel was relatively uneventful. Mostly spent paddling against an offshore wind and. depending on the time of day, the tide!!!

The Watson Place, (adequately signed) was the first bit of solid land we had come across since we started. Indeed along with a picnic table (luxury) the campsite was an almost a lush, green grassed clearing set amongst the ever present mangroves. We checked for Alligators and quickly set up camp. There were obvious tracks and other signs of large reptiles living around the area but none ‘at home’ that day. We surmised, correcftly, that our prescence would dissuade them from coming ashore.

Whilst checking the site, Brandon pointed out the signs of human habitation. Deep in the undergrowth were various lumps of metal and bits of brickwork.

He then went on to explain why the campsite was as we found it!

It seems many years ago an enterprising chap (called Watson) with Government money tried to clear away the mangroves from this part of the Everglades and grow sugar cane on a plantation he created. A problem he had was that, this deep into the Everglades, there were no workers or locals nearby, to recruit and employ on his plantation.

Undiscouraged, and naturally a rescourceful man. He took to rowing into the nearest town and recruiting plantation workers in the local bars. He promised them work, food and lodging. Times being hard he found it easy obtaining staff and would return, with them, to The Watson Place. Being so remote with nowhere to spend their wages these employees were happy to be on 3 month contracts, or more, on the understanding they would receive all that was owed to them when they returned.

With no trails back to the nearest solid land they were all dependent on Watson to row them back to the town.

Here Watson saw a way to increase his profits.!!!

Once all loaded on his boat ready for the journey back. He would use his shotgun to kill the workers, dumping their bodies in the creek where the alligators’ would make short work of their corpses.

He would alternate between towns, recruiting more workers as necessary and telling everyone that the previous ones had not been happy with the harsh conditions of living and working in deep in swamp and had run off. No-one questioned him at all and he continued this practice for a while.

Eventually, though, he had his come-uppance.

At the end of another period of emplopyment as the workers eagerly awaited by the dock for the boat back to civilisation and their hard earned wages, Watson levelled his shotgun and pulled the triggers.

Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing.

The humidity of the Everglades had eventually soaked into all of his cartridges. They were useless.

Shocked the workers, understandibly, grabbed Watson and eked out revenge. Beating him to death, it was his turn to feed the ‘gators.

The workers returned to town and reported to the authorities and explained what happened.

A trial was held but the Judge eventually threw it out saying there was no case to answer, the workers were all aquitted having acted in self defence.

Sleep was uneasy that night!!