The Blueway meanders in and around estuaries, rivers, streams, bays, passing through remote mangrove swamps, crossing shipping channels and hugging the coast. Area parks and kayak rental spots have detailed maps that show the routes and give you all the information you need (you can also get it at www.greatcalusablueway.com).

And you need information, because the Blueway isn't just one route. It is many.

The first part, marked and mapped in 2003, goes through Estero Bay, which is the waterway near Fort Myers Beach and Bonita Springs.

The second part, marked and mapped in 2005, lines coasts and estuaries on Pine Island Sound and Matlacha Pass, including part of Tarpon Bay and the edge of the Ding Darling refuge off Sanibel Island.

The third section, which was just mapped and launched in October 2007, are routes on the Caloosahatchee River and its tributaries. Its most famous section is the Orange River, where manatees congregate near the warm water outflow of the Fort Myers power plant at Manatee Park.

Although many routes are marked regularly, and maps contain GPS coordinates for those who bring their own GPS unit, the Blueway is vast, and some of it is difficult. So before you launch on the Blueway, get a guide or get experience.

BIRDS AND BIRDS

Back at Commodore Creek, birds were everywhere, motionless in the midday sun. White ibises stood on one leg on still mangrove limbs. A jet-black cormorant with its wings spread guarded a catch. A roseate spoonbill with a big pink body flew above. Around us, the water was a mysterious murky brown because of the tannin from the red mangroves lining the creek.

After about an hour of paddling, I started to get hot and tired. My shoulders hurt. Meanwhile, a schoolteacher on the tour kept asking a million questions. What's the way to grow a mangrove in a pot? Are mangroves asexual? What's the name of a worm in the lake? Our guide answered everything patiently.

After 1 ½ hours, the group arrived in Mullet Lake, where, sure enough, little mullet fish were leaping out of the water like friendly firecrackers. This marked the moment we could break off on our own and start heading back.

''Let's go,'' my husband said, paddling as if he were in a race. Our kayak skimmed the well-marked creek, twisting through low-hanging branches. Primitive-looking birds watched us from their woody havens in the sunlight-dappled mangroves. The swish-swish-swish of our paddles was the only noise.

Have you ever tried to take a picture from a kayak? It was hard. I don't have a single record of my achievement. And there was an issue of where to put my legs. Straight out? Up over the edge? Cross-legged? No good answer.

But three hours after we started we were back where we began, gliding across the smooth-as-glass bay, skin pink, throats thirsty, brains elated.

Next time, we'd be ready to try our hand at the big Calusa Blueway -- at least, the easy parts.

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