MERRITT ISLAND NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE -- We crossed the causeway at dusk, drove over the drawbridge, turned down a dirt road and wound through a towering grove of palmettos.

The path opened onto a loamy beach, blanketed with kayaks.

``OK, grab a life jacket and a paddle and come make a circle around me,'' a fit woman called from the shore. ``That's it. Spread out. Glad you all could make it.''

We had driven more than three hours from St. Petersburg through Titusville, into the wildlife refuge near Cape Canaveral. We had fortified ourselves with Goldfish crackers, bottled water and super-strength bug spray.

We had come to see the light.

Our friends had seen it here during a late-night kayak trip. They had raved about it, wondered about it, tried to describe it.

It sparkles like diamonds, they told us. Like raindrops. Like thousands of tiny disco balls swirling through the river.

It dribbles off your paddle like strings of stars. It makes the mullet glow.

It's called bioluminescence, our friends said -- tiny illuminated creatures that swirl just beneath the surface of the water.

People travel to Puerto Rico to see the phenomenon. A few years ago, it showed up in a shady cove off the Indian River and shimmered all summer.

So we had come on this steamy Saturday near the end of summer vacation, chasing one last family adventure before our boys went back to school, in search of mysterious, miniscule creatures that no one seems to be able to capture, and even scientists can't explain.

``What you will see out there are one-celled organisms called dinoflagellates that emit their own light,'' said the fit woman, Elizabeth Mahan, who runs the kayak tours with her husband, Mike. ``Out here, you'll get more than 100,000 of them per liter of water.''

No one knows why they glow, she said. ``Are they mating? Is it in self-defense?''

She paused and smiled, twirled her paddle. ``I just believe God loves really cool things and he wants us to play with them.''

The air was warm and sticky, thick with mosquitoes. While Mahan showed us how to steer and steady our kayaks, we swatted our arms and faces, scratched our legs.

Behind her, the sun slipped into the river, painting salmon streaks across the sky.

Fasten your life jackets. Make sure they're tight. Grab a whistle and a glow stick as your horn and headlight. Don't worry about alligators. Worry about fishing lines.

SHOVING OFF

``There is no moon tonight,'' she said, sliding her boat down the murky shore. ``So it's going to be pitch black out there. Just follow my red blinking light and we'll go across the channel, into the lagoon on the other side.

``Out there you'll see the sea grass glowing, the little fish glittering . . . ''

Only a whisper of light lingered over the river as our flotilla drifted beneath the bridge. With two thin paddles fluttering on each side of every kayak, the boats looked like big dragonflies skimming upstream.

We zigzagged at first, then got into a rhythm. Behind us, I heard my older son shout, ``I hit something, Daddy. I think it was a rock.''

He shined his light stick into the river. Two bulbous eyes reflected the glow. ``I just clocked a manatee.''

A pelican dove into the water, its silhouette streaking across the shore. A pod of dolphins splashed feet in front of our boats. Overhead, stars started to peek through the blackness.

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