From its marshy beginnings in East-Central Florida to its estuarine waters near the Georgia border, the St. Johns River is a striking example of waterway diversity.
As the sun rises over sawgrass marshes marking the starting point of the St. Johns River, it slices through the mist that defines mornings in swampy Central Florida. The rain that fell here overnight may evaporate in the afternoon, it may be used for irrigation, or it may wind its way through the 310 miles of the St. Johns River and flow into the Atlantic Ocean.
Downstream, the St. Johns will declare itself a mighty river, but in Indian River and Brevard counties, there are few defined banks and boundaries. Waterfowl, wading birds, river otters and shore birds inhabit the maze of tributaries and sloughs.
This portion of the river is fed entirely by rainfall. Its shallow waters flow north — unlike many North American rivers — and begin a long, slow journey to the ocean.
The St. Johns River is commonly divided into three drainage basins, which are land areas that drain into a water body. Because the St. Johns River flows north, the upper basin is the area to the south. The middle basin is the area in East-Central Florida where the river widens. The lower basin is the area in northeast Florida from Putnam County to the river’s mouth in Duval County, where it empties into the Atlantic Ocean.
The water travels this path slowly. The river’s total drop from beginning to end is less than 30 feet, or about one inch per mile, making it one of the “laziest” rivers in the world.
Change is slow on the St. Johns River. More than 100,000 years ago, much of the river was an arm of the Atlantic Ocean. Over time, ocean levels dropped and barrier islands prevented water from flowing east into the ocean, leaving it trapped in flat valleys. The water slowly meandered northward and formed the St. Johns River.
As the river flows north and continues to collect water from marshes, it forms countless lakes on its path, starting with Lake Hell ‘n’ Blazes and Sawgrass Lake. The river flows into Orange, Volusia and Seminole counties, forming Ruth Lake, Puzzle Lake and Lake Harney.
The flow of the St. Johns River is strengthened south of Lake Harney by the confluence of the Econlockatchee River in Seminole County. After Lake Harney, the St. Johns River begins a transformation. Banks become better defined and a recognizable river is formed that flows north into lakes Jesup and Monroe past the city of Sanford.
In her 1942 book “Cross Creek,” Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings wrote of this area. “If I could have, to hold forever, one brief place of time and beauty, I think I might choose the night on the high lonely bank above the St. Johns River,” she wrote.
These banks mark the beginning of the river’s middle basin, famous for bass fishing and a diverse bird population that includes egrets, ibis and great blue herons, ospreys, turkeys, cranes and a sizeable population of bald eagles. Deer and a large number of alligators reside in protected areas along the river’s banks.
North of Lake Monroe, the winding waterway consolidates and continues, straddling the county lines of Lake and Volusia counties. South of Lake Beresford, the river meets Blue Springs State Park, the ancient home of the Timucuan Indians and one of the modern-day homes of some of Florida’s manatees. The banks of the river still display artifacts and mounds of discarded snail shells left by the Indians centuries ago.
Beyond Blue Springs, the river enters a region of Florida famed for its resemblance to the Florida of legend. As the river runs through the Ocala National Forest and feeds into the Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge, it feeds wet prairies, ponds and lakes. The land is lined with towering palms, large live oaks and scrubby sand pines.
In 1765, William Bartram wrote of the stretch of the river in what is now the Ocala National Forest. “Blessed land where the gods have amassed into one heap all the flowering plants, birds, fish and other wildlife of two continents in order to turn the rushing streams, the silent lake shores and the awe-abiding woodlands of this mysterious land into a true garden of Eden,” he wrote.
Here the river creates Lake George, the largest lake on the St. Johns River. The water of Lake George is variably brackish, or high in salt content. This is because of the numerous high-salinity springs that contribute to the river’s flow in this area. The river also is influenced by the tide from the Atlantic Ocean, even though it is a hundred miles upstream.
Past Lake George, the St. Johns River goes through yet another transformation. It exits Volusia County and enters Putnam County, running along the Marion County line for a few miles. In Putnam County, the St. Johns River meets the Ocklawaha River, the largest tributary that meets the St. Johns. Here, the river enters its lower basin.
After the St. Johns meets the Ocklawaha River, it flows along the Caravelle Ranch Wildlife Management Area for several miles. In the river here one might see a manatee or snail bullhead, or you may spot a southeastern kestrel or limpkin taking to flight.
Several miles downstream, the St. Johns River runs through the city of Palatka in an area used for hundreds of years as a transportation hub on the river. Military, commercial, recreational and tourist vessels are historically interwoven into the region’s economy.
North of Palatka, ships on the St. Johns see a much more expansive river. As it continues, it straddles the St. Johns County line, leaving Putnam County for Clay County. The river widens considerably, averaging up to two miles across.
The river travels through St. Johns and Clay counties for more than 20 miles before completely entering Duval County and the heart of Jacksonville. This is the largest city in Florida and was founded with the river as its primary asset.
In Jacksonville, the river turns to the east toward the Atlantic Ocean, about 20 miles away. Here, the river is always a mix of fresh and salt waters, making the St. Johns River more an estuary than a freshwater body.
As it leaves Jacksonville and runs along the spot where Fort Caroline stood long ago, the St. Johns River meets the Intracoastal Waterway, forming an expanse of marshes with fluctuating depths.
After passing Mayport, the longest river contained in the state of Florida ends its journey where it spills into the Atlantic Ocean. Over its length of hundreds of miles, it has collected runoff from thousands of square miles of land. But here, things don’t seem to be measured in miles or gallons. Where the ocean envelops the St. Johns River with a docile embrace, the sky and the ocean seem to stretch on endlessly.
Long before European settlers came to the New World to build a new nation, Native Americans in Florida lived peacefully along the banks of the great St. Johns River. The river provided much of what Native Americans needed for life — water to drink, fish to eat and a route for transportation. Like Native Americans, Spanish and French settlers were drawn to the river and established colonies along its banks.
Today the river provides a thriving economy for residents of our region, especially with the commercial fishing and maritime industries. The river also plays a key role in Florida’s tourism industry, with its diverse physical characteristics making it a mecca for recreation.
The St. Johns River is an invaluable asset to Florida. Drawn to the river’s beauty, millions of people now live and work along its banks.
To each of us, a healthy river means something different — to a fisherman, good water quality means plenty of fish and natural spawning areas for young fish to grow. To a boater, it means traveling through waterways free of trash and hazards. To those who commute across the bridges spanning the river, it means enjoying the sparkling waters without the green scum and pungent aroma of algae.
However, as more people live, work and play on and around water, Florida’s water resources become polluted.