In this section

Florida’s aquifers

The water ebbing and flowing beneath our feet represents one of the most prolific aquifer systems in the world.

Managing public
lands

District land managers wear many hats in their daily tasks caring for lands purchased to protect Florida’s water resources.

A walk in the park

Central Florida man enjoys public lands.

Innovation

Hastings farmer is just one person in the agricultural community who is looking for new ways to save water and still be profitable.

For the birds

Wetlands are a special part of Florida’s unique environment. As wetlands restoration projects mature, many of our feathered friends are returning to the region.

2011 Archives

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Winter/spring 2012

Florida’s aquifers: Water beneath our feet

Advancing the understanding of our water supplies.

Florida, at times, seems as much a liquid state as it does terra firma. Slosh through its marshes and wetlands, and you’ll probably agree. We live in a land literally shaped by water, a peninsula boasting more than 1,197 miles of coastline and laced with 50,000 miles of rivers and streams, 7,000 lakes and more than 700 known springs.

The vast majority of the water that comes from our collective taps — water we use for drinking, washing, bathing and irrigating our landscapes — comes not from visible flows but from sources deep beneath the ground.

This is a story about Florida’s aquifer system, an underground labyrinth harboring billions of gallons of sparkling water, with a mysterious network of chasms and porous rock and vast confining layers of clay. The aquifer has inspired enduring legends (think of Ponce de Leon’s futile search for Florida’s Fountain of Youth) and it has helped shaped the culture of the Sunshine State. The water ebbing and flowing beneath our feet represents one of the most prolific aquifer systems in the world.

Understanding its complexities is critical to the mission of the St. Johns River Water Management District as it makes daily decisions about water use for its 18-county region.

Florida has five main aquifer systems that serve most of the state’s needs. The Floridan aquifer system is the principal source of freshwater in the St. Johns District, and for the state. The Floridan underlies most of Florida and extends out to parts of Georgia, South Carolina and beneath the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico.

“The Floridan is about 100,000 square miles in area and can be thousands of feet thick,” says Jeff Davis, a District hydrologist who is helping to map the aquifer system. “That’s a potential for a huge volume of water.”

The Floridan is mainly composed of limestone and dolomite. Limestone acts as a sponge, absorbing and holding water. The texture, however, doesn’t feel like a sponge at all. It is very hard and full of voids and crevices that allow water to move freely through it.

How did the aquifer come to be, and what exactly is the composition of limestone? Rewind the clock 55 million years or so, and Florida would have resembled the Bahamas, Davis says.

“Millions of years ago, Florida was composed of mud flats, corals, shells and algae,” Davis says. “Over time, shells and the skeletons of dead sea life accumulated and hardened into the rocks that comprise the Floridan.”

As the centuries crawled by, the seas rose and fell, exposing the peninsula. The Appalachian Mountains to the north eroded and brought sand and clay to create areas that confined water, called “confining units.” Slightly acidic rainwater dissolved the limestone, creating large cavities that, today, are underwater caves and caverns. This ongoing dissolution has created what scientists call a karst, which is characterized by a topography that includes sinkholes and subterranean limestone caverns, carved by groundwater.

“The Floridan isn’t a static system,” Davis says. “The ability of the rocks to store or transmit water changes in response to changes in the aquifer’s water chemistry and even forces that fracture the rocks. Sea level changes of hundreds of feet have created varying conditions. At times, fresh, slightly acidic water flowed through the system and dissolved the limestone, thereby increasing porosity and permeability. Other times, highly mineralized water flowed through and filled void spaces by depositing carbonate cement. There is a constant process of deposition and dissolution.”

Davis and Don Boniol are District hydrologists who update hydrogeologic models — maps of the Floridan aquifer system, if you will. These maps provide input for groundwater models, which are essential to the District in performing water supply assessments and evaluating water use permit applications. In simplest terms, District staff can make educated decisions on issuing permits for consumptive uses if they have accurate models to inform them about available water below the ground.

Using high-tech equipment and boring holes deep into the ground, District geologists are mapping the Floridan and recording information about rock type, flow zones and water quality so they can judge the depth and elevation of the aquifers and confining units. The log data standardizes information from one test well to the next. Amassing and assembling the information is like constructing a 3-D jigsaw puzzle image of the Floridan, Davis says.

“There have been many reports and studies done on the aquifer,” Davis says. “But it is time to update the mapping, with new information from other agencies and sources, into a single mapping framework.”

Knowing where potable water is most plentiful is key to the District’s water supply planning process. Water in the Floridan may seem limitless, but overpumping can have immediate and long-term impacts on groundwater resources.

The Floridan is under constant pressure, the result of an endless cycle of recharge and discharge. Recharge occurs when water seeps from the land’s surface down through the layers of earth into an aquifer.

Florida generally receives 50 to 55 inches of rainfall each year, but much of it — about  37 inches — evaporates or runs off the land into surface waters before it has a chance to soak into the ground. That leaves about 13 inches annually to recharge the aquifer, in limited areas.

Pumping too much water from the aquifer can draw salt water up from deeper zones below the aquifer or laterally from the ocean. Overpumping can also result in a pressure drop in the aquifer, causing spring flows to diminish and wetlands to dry out.

To the uninitiated, the District’s research and mapping of the Floridan aquifer system may seem esoteric and somewhat intimidating. However, improving our understanding of this critical water source is necessary to ensuring Florida will continue to flourish.

Managing Florida’s public lands

It’s not just another day in the park for District land managers.

Pete Henn faced a dilemma. A 30-acre pasture at the Econlockhatchee Sandhills Conservation Area in Orange County needed regular mowing as a safeguard against wildfires. A mowing contract would cost several thousand dollars, and Henn had 90,000 additional acres of maintenance issues to consider.

“I received a call from a local cattleman who had been eyeing the property to mow for hay,” says Henn, a land manager with the St. Johns River Water Management District. “It was the perfect solution. Through a lease agreement, his mowing keeps the pasture open as a fire line and he gets his hay.”

Henn’s solution was clever but not atypical of the inventiveness that characterizes the District’s Land Management Program.

The District is generally associated with regulating water withdrawals and activities that can impact water resources; but one of the agency’s less visible roles is taking care of land to protect water resources. The District owns an interest in or manages nearly 700,000 acres of land throughout its 18-county region, a responsibility that requires the agency’s land managers to juggle many roles: firefighter, biologist, environmentalist, educator, landlord, builder, planner, good neighbor, sounding board for public concerns and partner to myriad stakeholders and recreation-based organizations.

“Our land management staff is assigned a certain region of several conservation areas, usually over several counties,” says Nels Parson, a District land manager. “On average, we have one land management field staff person to deal with various issues for every 17,000 acres we manage. We are one of the most efficiently staffed agencies in the state based on the services we offer.”

Keep in mind, District lands are unlike a state or county park system that has recreation as the primary purpose. Because resource management is the agency’s primary land management function, you won’t find on-site “rangers” to manage and maintain a specific property. Yet, the District manages and maintains recreational resources on more than a half-million acres, spread over 40 conservation areas including more than 100 trailhead parking areas, more than 70 campsites, observation towers, inclement weather shelters, picnic pavilions and boardwalks, as well as nearly 300 miles of marked trails.

“If you’re looking to get away from the other 20 million people in Florida, water management district lands are a great place to go,” Parson says.

Ambassadors of the District

At the south end of the District, in Indian River County, the headwaters of the St. Johns River flow lazily north. Here, the river is a confluence of blackwater cypress swamps and open marsh. Watery airboat trails snake through sawgrass and cattails. This 175,000-acre wilderness is District Land Manager Doug Voltolina’s office.

Voltolina is as adept at navigating his work truck atop bone-jarring levees as he is on asphalt. He can glance at a swatch of forest or grassy marsh and determine whether or not the vegetation is in need of burning to reduce the chance for wildfire. He knows adjacent landowners — the majority of them farmers and ranchers — on a first-name basis. He interacts daily with hunters and hikers, elected officials and law enforcement. There may be a dozen competing interests for access to District lands, and Voltolina seeks to find a balance.

“Managing land isn’t just buying property and putting a fence around it,” he says. “Land managers deal with all kinds of people on a daily basis. We’re like the ambassadors of the District, at times.”

In Voltolina’s case, managing District lands isn’t limited to solid ground. The river’s headwaters are a matrix of man-made canals and restored marshes, the ideal playground for airboaters. Voltolina has developed a solid relationship with the Brevard County Airboat Association, an active and volunteer-oriented organization of more than 100 members.

“It’s been very educational working with St. Johns,” says Walt Lorraine, the airboat club’s president for the past six years. “I’ve had to identify the District’s goals to see how I can find an alignment with the airboat association’s goals. It’s been fantastic for the past three or four years.”

Citing a couple of examples of successful ventures with the help of the District, Lorraine described how his group received District approval to trim airboat trails of willows that can limit visibility or strike the sides of airboats in the marsh. He’s also proud of his group’s annual cleanup events that reduce the amount of garbage for land managers to pluck from campsites along the marsh. Lorraine was so impressed with the District’s land management efforts that he made the two-and-one-half-hour drive from his home to the District’s Palatka headquarters this past summer to extol the work of District land managers.

Lorraine is a familiar face at the District’s recreational public meetings, held several times a year at various locations throughout the region. The meetings allow various user groups to offer input about recreation on District properties.

Waterfowlers such as Capt. Jeff Kraynik represent one of the more active user groups at the south end of the District.

“I began attending the District’s public meetings on recreation about 12 years ago and noticed there wasn’t any representation of duck hunters, even though a lot of project funding comes from Ducks Unlimited or the purchase of duck hunting stamps,” says Kraynik, the state marsh chairman of Ducks Unlimited. “St. Johns’ staff listen to stakeholders. We may not always agree with the District, but at least they listen to the point where they will hold additional meetings to hear what we have to say and take it into consideration.”

Kraynik says the District has a tough job balancing the needs of user groups against its main mission in the Upper St. Johns River Basin: preventing flooding, protecting water quality and enhancing water supply.

“It’s kind of an oxymoron,” Kraynik says. “The District does a great job conserving land, but they’re managing more for holding water. It’s kind of a balancing act for them. The District has to constantly manipulate water, and on top of that, they still have to deal with Mother Nature. We’ve had a drought over the past couple of years, and the marsh has changed a lot. Some places aren’t accessible by airboat any more. A lot of vegetation has come up. People blame the District but it’s not the District’s fault. You can’t control Mother Nature. As a state marsh chairman for Ducks Unlimited and a local guy, St. Johns has been a pleasure to work with. I look forward, even in these bad budget times, to working with the District in the future.”

Behind the scenes

On the surface, it would seem that managing thousands of acres of wilderness would require little effort. How much management could “wilderness” need? As it happens, managing natural areas requires forethought and long-term planning.

Steve Miller, longtime head of the District’s Land Management Program, has his thumb on the pulse of District landholdings. His job is one of constant assessment: Are there eyesores on the property that need to be repaired or removed? What does a property require to make it accessible to the public? Are there security issues? What types of recreational uses would be most appropriate for the property? Is it more important to burn a property that is in regular rotation or a newly acquired property that is overgrown and has never been burned?

“We try to fit the best use to each property,” Miller says. “If the property is primarily marshes, it is better suited for airboats than horses. We also have to be cognizant of the primary purpose of the property. What can we do to provide activities for the public and still meet our objectives?”

Technology is aiding land managers in organizing information to better manage District lands. District staff are developing a geographic information system (GIS) that captures and stores information onto maps of District lands. Information about wetlands, trails, roads, recreation facilities, even 911 addresses, can be layered on top of one another for a holistic view of a property.

“GIS mapping is valuable in so many ways,” Miller says. “For example, we’ll know how many miles of trails we have and whether the trails are suited to horseback riding or hiking. GIS also enables us to catalog the number and miles of  trails by property, or by county, depending on the questions we are being asked. We’ll also have 911 information available in case someone is injured out there.”

Technology aside, land managers say they derive the most satisfaction from interacting with the people who use public lands, be they hikers or horseback riders, bird-watchers or hunters. Sometimes, that interaction surpasses the normal workday, as Ella Lindsay can attest.

Lindsay, Rice Creek area section leader for the Florida Trail Association, recalls how Miller and Parson volunteered to help the organization build footbridges across a swamp at Rice Creek Conservation Area.

“I couldn’t give them enough stars,” Lindsay says. “The land managers have been helpful at every opportunity. Steve and Nels have even come out to work on a bridge we built through the swamp. They worked in water up to their waists, right there in the middle of things. They show an interest in what we do and help us make trails better for hikers.”

Miller says he and other land managers are simply doing what they love.

“The best part of the job is managing the land for the public,” he says. “They might be the segment of the population that never visits the land but benefits from the flood protection or a protected water supply. Or they’re the part of the public that regularly visits the land to enjoy the sights, sounds and scents of the natural resources on the property. The opportunity to conserve all of those benefits for future generations is just overwhelming.”

Members of the Mandarin High School girls’ cross country team regularly practice at the Julington-Durbin Preserve in the Jacksonville area.

Man says thank you for ‘a little piece of central Florida heaven’

Can Florida’s conservation efforts transform a life? Orlando resident Mike Hidalgo thinks so.

Two years ago, Hidalgo began walking in his neighborhood at the suggestion of his doctor in an attempt to control both his weight and high blood pressure.

“Somewhere in about the middle of all this I randomly stopped at Econlockhatchee Sandhill Conservation Area one morning to ‘walk it off’ and the first day there was pretty interesting,” Hidalgo recalls. As he followed power lines toward the river, a large doe emerged from the trees, running full speed toward him, with a big lab retriever with its leash trailing behind the doe.

“(The doe) was only a few yards away when she recognized me as a human and crashed into the woods to my right. It was absolutely the closest I had ever been to a deer in full flight,” Hidalgo says, “and what a sight!”

He’s seen a lot more wildlife since then, including turkeys, tortoises, armadillos, hawks, indigo snakes, bald eagles, rabbits, black ground squirrels, giant leatherback turtles, ducks, ‘gators, millipedes and “just about any small bird or water bird you’re likely to find in this part of the world. Not only is this place my 600-acre back yard, but there’s a zoo in it.”

“Florida’s conservation efforts have changed my retirement from boredom to excitement. Keep up the excellent work!”

Generations of innovation

Farmer’s pilot project saves water.

On a wall at the offices of Tater Farms in Hastings hangs a reproduction of the front page of a publication called Tractor Farming. Dated 1930, the feature story describes how Frank Johns and his son operated “Florida’s First Horseless Farm.”

Chris Johns, the great-grandson of Frank Johns, has the same penchant for innovation. The fourth-generation grower is experimenting with fertilization and irrigation techniques that have the potential to yield profitable crops while simultaneously reducing water and fertilizer use, as well as abating environmental impacts from stormwater runoff.

Tater Farms is in the heart of a region known as the tri-county agricultural area (St. Johns, Putnam and Flagler counties), a pastoral oasis unfolding across the convergence of three counties. The Johns family’s farms cover more than 1,000 acres, the primary crops being sod, and potatoes for potato chips. The region dispels the outsider’s notion of palm tree-and-seashore-postcard Florida. Here, you’ll find big skies, wide-open land and narrow two-laners that ferry travelers past row crops and grazing livestock.

Johns, a 2007 University of Florida graduate, is a forward thinker. With support from the St. Johns River Water Management District, Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services (FDACS) and the University of Florida’s Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences (IFAS), he has devoted nine acres of his farm to determine whether drip irrigation is a viable alternative to traditional irrigation practices.

“My goal is to reduce the uncertainty and risk of drip irrigation for other growers,” he says. “I’m hoping to prove drip irrigation is a viable alternative to our traditional irrigation methods.”

Growers in the region traditionally employ seepage irrigation to water row crops, a practice that requires carving evenly spaced furrows — every 60 feet — and pumping them with groundwater to apply to plants.

“Seepage irrigation has served the area effectively,” Johns says. “However, potato plants located in the middle of the bed between each water furrow can show stress during the peak hours of the day. I began to look at a better way to irrigate the entire bed of plants.”

Terry Pride, environmental administrator with FDACS, is excited by Johns’ energy and enthusiasm. His efforts could potentially change the way other growers approach farming, she says.

“Agriculture is important to the state’s economy,” Pride says. “We’re working with growers in the tri-county agricultural area to use resources as efficiently as possible without making it hard for them to stay in business. Chris is an impressive guy. He represents the future in farming.”

Producing row crops is an intensive use for land. Potatoes are king in the tri-county area, and potatoes require plenty of water and fertilizers, particularly nitrogen. The problem is that agricultural activities — grazing, plowing, pesticide spraying, irrigation, fertilizing, planting and harvesting — can harm rivers, lakes and other water bodies. When it rains, stormwater runoff carries sediments, fertilizers, pathogens, pesticides and salts from fields to nearby river and lake systems.

The application of fertilizer on fields throughout the tri-county area must be based on the variations in soil fertility from farm to farm — even from field to field on the same farm. Other factors such as soil temperature and weather conditions also come into play. As a rule, growers take soil samples of each field and have them analyzed to determine exactly how much fertilizer is needed. A one-size-fits-all limitation on fertilizer applications isn’t feasible, Pride says.

Johns understands the need to protect water quality, but he also understands why growers can be resistant to government-imposed environmental regulations for agriculture. Realizing that there must be middle ground, he decided to take advantage of a cost-share opportunity with the District to carry out his drip irrigation endeavor.

Unlike seepage irrigation, drip irrigation requires the grower to install black plastic tubing about an inch beneath the soil surface. Holes in the tubing, called emitters, distribute water at a rate set by the grower. Johns says his drip irrigation flowed at the rate of about one quart an hour.

“Drip irrigation is much more efficient,” he says. “It allows for more control of the conditions of the plant, how moist the soil is, and the amount of fertilizer you’re providing. I was happy with the results.”

Although they assisted Johns in obtaining funding for the pilot project, District officials are “in the background,” providing support that Johns may require.

“There is a synergy that has evolved out of this collaborative effort to improve irrigation technology in the tri-county agricultural area,” says Pam Livingston Way, a District environmental scientist who has extensive experience with agricultural irrigation issues. “Chris was willing to commit his time and resources to test drip irrigation on his farm. He understands the bottom line and that improving both water and nutrient efficiency on Tater Farms will ultimately pay off.”

Johns says his biggest challenge is to increase crop yields to offset the additional costs associated with drip irrigation. Liquid nitrogen (mixed with water when drip irrigating) is more expensive than nitrogen in its traditional, granular form. However, Johns says the potential for water savings could be 60 to 70 percent, depending on seasonal weather conditions. Johns is trying to determine if efficiency from an economic standpoint is possible.

“Once I get the mechanics down, I can perfect the amount of water and fertilizer I’ll need,” he says. “I’m hoping to refine it this coming year to see how much water I can save.”

Johns, like his great-grandfather before him, could likely effect a seismic shift in long-held farming practices in the tri-county area.

“If I can get two more years with better results, I may be able to convince other farms to try drip irrigation,” he says. “I personally think it’s on all of us to find collaborative solutions to problems we face.”

A farm crew loads sod during harvesting.

Wetlands are for the birds

The association of Florida with wetlands is so deeply ingrained in the American psyche that the old joke about “buying swampland in Florida” still endures. Yet, the very gist of the joke implies that wetlands are worthless, an impediment to progress.

Swamps, marshes and wetlands cover nearly one third of Florida, but the state has lost nearly half of its wetlands since pioneer times. Much of the loss occurred when wetlands were drained to abate mosquito populations or for use as agricultural areas and urban developments.

Today, we realize the many roles wetlands play in maintaining our quality of life — in ways that aren’t readily apparent. Wetlands temporarily store flood waters, protecting property owners during extreme storm events; clean or filter pollutants from surface waters; recharge groundwater (the source of most of our drinking water); reduce coastal erosion; and provide nursery areas, nesting habitat, wintering habitat and feeding grounds for fish and wildlife.

As a regulatory agency of the state, the St. Johns River Water Management District uses its Environmental Resource Permitting Program as one of its primary tools to protect wetlands — making sure that new construction does not harm wetlands or cause flooding or pollute waterways. Anyone proposing construction of new facilities or wanting to fill in wetlands must have an environmental resource permit. The District also protects wetlands through ownership or an interest in more than 700,000 acres of public land, of which 62 percent is wetlands.

Some District wetlands have become synonymous with thriving bird populations. Imagine, for instance, the vast marshes comprising the headwaters of the St. Johns River. From the air, they must resemble an all-inclusive resort to migratory birds. Hawks and ospreys soar overhead or perch atop cypress trees, ducks glide across the open water, glistening black rails dart through sawgrass stands and patient wading birds strike rigid poses as they wait for unsuspecting fish.

When the District began revitalizing the river’s flow in the 1980s by reclaiming drained marshlands, plugging canals and building reservoirs in the upper basin, the main goal was to provide flood protection in southern Brevard and Indian River counties. However, the District’s efforts to protect and restore wetlands and marshes in the upper basin and throughout its 18-county region yields an ancillary benefit by providing attractive habitats to resident and migratory bird populations. The endangered snail kite, for example, has returned to the upper basin and nested successfully after being absent for nearly a decade.

About one-third of North American bird species rely on wetlands for food, shelter or breeding. Florida, because of its geographic location, diversity of habitats and abundance of wetlands, is a critical region for North American birds. In addition to the resident species that breed in Florida, there is a tremendous influx of birds during winter, many of which remain all winter long and others that simply pass through on their southbound and return migrations. As wetland loss slows in Florida and wetland restoration increases, not only are populations of resident fish and wildlife enhanced, but these local wetland restoration areas help maintain healthy populations of birds on a hemispheric scale.

Another District success story that posed unique challenges along the way is the Lake Apopka Restoration Area, a former agricultural enclave along the north shore of Lake Apopka that is being returned to a more natural wetland system.

Three times a week, Harry Robinson rises before dawn and begins a ritual that ultimately finds him at the Lake Apopka North Shore Restoration Area. Robinson is drawn to the lake’s freshwater marshes to count and track birds. His passion for birds has yielded impressive figures over 14 years: more than 1,600 visits to Lake Apopka and more than 21,000 hours spent documenting bird use of the area.

Robinson has printed two 400-page books encapsulating his bird migration studies at Lake Apopka and is working on this year’s annual report. His attraction for the area is the abundance and variety of birds sighted there: 357 species (including 15 considered exotic).

“You see more birds (at Lake Apopka) than anywhere else,” Robinson says. “That’s why Audubon chapters arrange field trips out there. For sheer diversity, the Everglades, Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge and Lake Apopka are the top three places in Florida for birds.”

The variety and abundance of birds found in Florida’s wetlands can impact the regional economy. Airboat tour guides promote bird-viewing opportunities on the St. Johns River and Indian River Lagoon. The Space Coast Birding and Wildlife Festival, a six-day event promoting Brevard County’s ecological resources each January, draws a thousand birding enthusiasts, pumping money into the local economy. Ecotourism plays a significant role in the Florida tourism industry. It is hoped that as the District’s large-scale wetland restoration efforts are completed and become better known, they will become a destination for both wildlife and human visitors, and become a source of sustainable economic activity for many local communities.