Browsing my copy of Bob Knight’s new book about the Santa Fe River Springs (that’s what he once told me that this whole system could be called), I found this on the back cover:
ODE TO THE SANTA FE RIVER AND SPRINGSFlorida’s Santa Fe River and springs are as old as the earth; sacred as creation; home to the First Floridians and the megafauna they lived with; a natural escape from urban madness; beloved by those lucky enough to know it; but not pristine.As with all of Florida’s natural waters, the Santa Fe is suffering under human dominium; protected by law but not safe from harm; and waiting patiently to escape the yoke of human possession.We must restore and protect the Santa Fe.
This isn’t an ode in the poetic sense of that word, but it is Knight waxing poetic—“as old as the earth,” maybe not quite, but old indeed. “Sacred as creation” certainly, since so many of us acknowledge the sacred quality of our freshwater springs. Definitely “a natural escape from urban madness” as the thousands of canoers, kayakers, swimmers, floaters and even hard-core partiers know when they visit the river, especially in the summers. “Beloved by those lucky enough to know it” as more and more of us now know the river year-round, through winter, spring, summer and fall. “But not pristine”—there’s a chilling conclusion to that first paragraph.
I thought Knight had confused the word “dominium” with “dominion,” but then I looked up “dominium” and discovered he’s right. That word is, according to the dictionary on my computer, a legal term that means “absolute ownership and control of property.” Dominium, it turns out, points straight at the problem that the Santa Fe, like so many of Florida’s rivers and springs, is experiencing—the control of ecosystems by human beings whose rights carry more weight in our courts of law than the rights of those natural systems to exist and to thrive. But I digress.
Knight’s book has something for everyone, whether you live near the Santa Fe River, visit it regularly or only on occasion; whether you’re interested in prehistory, recorded history, anthropology, or archaeology; whether you’re interested in geology or hydrology; and whether you care about if and how the river and springs have been damaged and how they might be saved.
The book is full of scientific and cultural information, all peppered with visual images—photos of archaeological finds, images of fascinating old maps, current images of the springs and the river and even a table that shows the nitrate concentrations in popular brands of bottled spring water (that water may not be as “pure” as you think it is).
There are sections that deal with the sabre-tooth cats, mammoths and mastodons that existed when the land we call “Florida” looked very different than it does today. There are sections on the PaleoIndians, later Native American cultures, the arrival of Europeans, and the development and evolution of agricultural techniques in the Santa Fe Basin. And yes, you’ll learn what a “basin” is and what a “springshed” is, if you don’t already know.
I marked quite a few “Did you know…” quotes that surprised me; here’s a brief sample.
• “Florida’s basement rocks include volcanic and sedimentary rocks most similar to those under…Senegal, Africa.”
• Hernando de Soto crossed the Santa Fe and, not surprisingly, had some violent encounters with the Native Americans; the Spanish chroniclers of those early explorations dubbed the Santa Fe “the river of discords.”
• The town of Worthington Springs was once a tourist destination that advertised the medicinal qualities of the spring it is named for, with a resort hotel, dance pavilion, and bathhouse.
• “Fort White was built in 1837 and was considered the ‘head of navigation for steamboats in the Santa Fe River.’”
• “The 2020 estimate for nature-based recreation in Florida is more than $20 billion each year, compared to $2 billion for forestry and agriculture.”
I had to laugh out loud when I saw the photo that illustrates “challenging travel” on page 102. In the photo, three people are trying to unstick an ancient automobile that’s mired in the mud near the river. I laughed because the same thing happened to me—I once sank my 1968 VW “bug” in the mud near Ginnie Springs, on my way to an overnight campout. Luckily there were some strong male students in that group who heard my calls for help, came over, and simply lifted the car out of the mud! But I digress. Again. (Yes, I have a personal history with this river and its springs.)
For all the fascinating information that Knight includes, however, what really strikes me is when his writing moves from factual into inspirational territory—because I think inspiration is going to be one of the keys to saving the Santa Fe.
Here, following a paragraph on how Florida’s ancient ecosystem supported now-extinct horses, buffalo, dire wolves and sabre-tooth cats, along with a plethora of other giant animals or “megafauna,” Knight writes from the heart:
Clean rivers—no nutrients or hazardous pollution. Flowing springs—no groundwater wells. Extensive wetlands untouched by dredging and filling. No dams, no clearing for pavement and permanent dwellings, no mines, no factories. No air pollution. No plastics. Just Mother Nature in her sublime and terrible innocence.
“Sublime and terrible innocence.” I could contemplate that phrase for hours.
At the beginning of the book, Knight writes, “Everyone needs a place of refuge.” It’s clear that the Santa Fe River has been that place for him. His quote reminds me of what another Florida writer, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, wrote about her home in Cross Creek: ““I do not understand how anyone can live without some small place of enchantment to turn to.” Yes, Florida works her strange magic on those who understand it and, thankfully, can communicate it.
I also loved this description of the Santa Fe River Springs that Knight included:
One canoe guide compared the aerial view of the uncovered springs to the opening of a series of blue eyes. With springs in their pristine condition dotting the length of the tannic Santa Fe River, these blue eyes would have appeared to a migrating bird as a series of blue sapphires along a black onyx necklace.
Blue sapphires along a black onyx necklace! The jewelry lover in me resonates with this image, big-time.
And of course—as you would expect from his work as the founder, lead scientist and executive director of the Howard T. Odum Florida Springs Institute (FSI)—Knight has a lot to say about why and how the springs and river are threatened and what needs to be done to correct those problems. If you’re reading this review, you either already know what those problems are or you need to spend some time on FSI’s website to educate yourself, because I want to focus on Knight’s recommendations about what needs to happen to save the Santa Fe River Springs.
Here is what Knight thinks our state agencies ought to be doing much more effectively than they are, to the point where most if not all of us are going to have to change our behaviors and our relationships with water:
• Targeting groundwater and spring flow reduction goals.
• Targeting the quality of ground and surface waters.
• Targeting human use carrying capacities in the springs and on the river.
• Emphasizing a holistic, springshed-focused approach to solving problems.
• Continuously monitoring the amount of pumping from the Floridan aquifer.
• Creating a groundwater extraction fee.
• Creating a tax on nitrogen loading.
• Exploring ways to compensate agriculturalists for converting to lower value, unfertilized crops.
The big question, of course, is could any of these things happen given Florida’s current political climate? While that answer may be “No,” Knight hints but doesn’t delve into what could be another approach—development and encouragement of a water ethic that could be adopted by people willingly, without government intervention, if they cared enough to understand how such an ethic might save the Santa Fe.
“It appears ironic that Floridians stress so much about hurricanes and flooding—natural disasters that we have little or no responsibility for or control,” Knight also writes. “And yet, lower aquifer levels and salt water intrusion are dire problems that humans could minimize substantially with the widespread adoption of a water ethic.”
When discussing population and industrial growth, Knight hints again at the idea of a water ethic: “Perhaps this desecration was inevitable because of the pioneer mentality of Florida’s European occupiers and the lack of an appropriate cultural ethos for maintaining environmental harmony and sustainability.”
And yet, Knight remains hopeful even though he’s documented in detail the harm that we humans have caused to the Santa Fe River Springs.
Many millions of people have walked these lands before us. And many more will follow down the same paths. The future of the Santa Fe River and its indigenous biota is murky. But it is our generation’s responsibility to give the living river a better future than what the recent past has given us.
“Santa Fe” means “holy faith” in Spanish so this book’s title reminds me of a popular saying back in the 1960s, “Keep the faith.” Knight has kept faith with the river by writing this book.
If you feel called to do more to “keep the faith” with the river after reading the book, then please ask yourself, “What can I do?”
“Florida’s Santa Fe River and Springs” is published by the Howard T. Odum Florida Springs Institute, High Springs, Florida, © 2022 (ISBN 9-781936-63407-1), and is available here:
https://floridaspringsinstitute.org/product/floridas-santa-fe-river-and-springs-an-environmental-and-cultural-history/
Important information about the Ichetucknee River System is included in the book, particularly on page 154.
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