One Man’s Extraordinary Quest to Find “the Devil’s Punch Bowl,” or Maybe a Piece of his...

8/6/2019 One Mans Extraordinary Quest to Find the Devils Punch Bowl, or Maybe a Piece of his Heart. Chapter 1

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Wainwright Park, for Nancy P. Crockett

Chapter 1 of 3:

The Lure of the Devils Punch Bowl: A Journey Begins.

Grove Pioneer Commodore Ralph Munroe, most often behind the camera,here slakes his thirst with the cool, clean spring-fed waters of the Devils

Punch Bowl. A widely-accomplished man of many talents much beloved of

his community, he is still widely celebrated as the builder of his family home

on the Bay in Cocoanut Grove, the Barnacle, now the heart of a popular

public park, and the oldest-surviving home in the County remaining in its

original location.

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The Devils Punch Bowl,Biscayne Bay (First Sitting) P. Crockett

Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

--Matsuo Basho

Beautiful Biscayne Bay, in which we spent a fair portion of our free hours

growing up. Beyond the awesome thrill of true exploration, just being on the Baywas relaxing, and always refreshing.

ABOUT a year or so ago, I suddenly realized that had to find the Devils

Punch Bowl of Miamis historic legend, if it still existed, or might be

recognizable. The realization itself was unusual. It was different than an idea,

like Hey, lets go catch this-or-that movie, or even lets go and see

Barcelona.Anyreasons for such a venture werent exactly known to me,

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yet in any case seemed beside the point, in light of the clarity and forcewith which the knowledge had suddenly and quietly come. As sure as Iam, it had come from some other place, higher or deeper, and that wasall I needed know.

Explaining such experiences can suggest (misleadingly) a big deal, andit was not. It was simple, yet extraordinary. In retrospect, thefeeling

was as if the plan had been waiting for me outside of time, full andcomplete. Once the moment had arrived when the next breath, or step,

would offer the click leading me at last into readiness, the awarenessdawned upon me with no more effort than either the breath, or the step.

It was time.

Growing up in Miami, it seemed as if I had always heard tales told of, and read

about the Devils Punch Bowl. As described by Howard Kleinberg in his

wonderful picture book of the areas history, Miami: The Way We Were :

Situated about two miles south of the Miami River, along theshore of the bay, is one of perhaps Miamis most mysterious andromantic historic sites the Devils Punch Bowl. Located on whatnow is private property just south of Wainwright Park and

immediately north of Vizcaya In the 3000 block of Brickell thePunch Bowl was a fresh water spring close to the shore.

Historians, while agreeing that not enough research has beendone on the Punch Bowl, also say that its water has quenchedthe thirsts of Indians, explorers, pirates and pioneers through thecenturies.

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Kleinberg mentions a 1923 article in the Miami Heraldfeaturing the punchbowl, reporting that early Grove pioneer Commodore Ralph Munroe said the

Punch Bowl was a watering hole as long as his memory reaches. It also

mentioned that [i]n the memory of Mrs. Mary Brickell. the present owner of

the site, the punch-bowl has always been in existence, antedating their

possession of the land.

Steps leading to Plantation Punch Bowl Springs,ca. 1890s.

Although a beautiful photograph, and certainly evocative, it and others like it

didnt really help, at all. Where in all of this mess, exactly, might the spring

be? Maybe if one knew that, he or she could make out the steps described.As it stands, the caption might as well read Enigma leading deeper into

riddle.

The plantation referred to had been built by a Charles Baron in 1830 with

slave labor, both he and the Africans extremely early (non-native) arrivals to

the area. It remained productive for over 30 years, its crops mainly a variety of

citrus, and cotton, until its abandonment at the onset of the Civil War. Within

only a few years the dense subtropical Florida jungle/ forest (or hammock,

based upon the Miccossukee word for dry land) had reclaimed the land, and

the remnants of the home had become all but indistinguishable in the

overgrowth. As early as 1877, observation is made that the site was popular

not only for the delicious waters of the spring, but also the limes and other

fruit produced by the venerable citrus trees still holding their own in the

primeval forest.

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THE PUNCH-BOWL had long since become the stuff of legend when this

childrens adventure tale was published in 1893:

(The above image, and many others used in this posting, have beenborrowed with sincere gratitude from the splendid Everglades DigitalLibrary, an online resource demonstrating the clear benefit resultingwhen different institutions libraries, government agencies, non-profitorganizations, educational institutions, and otherspool together andmake available their individual holdings in service of a common cause.To all involved, I offer my thanks. Check out their site:http://cwis.fcla.edu/edl/index.php?P=Home)

AS we continue reading from the bottom of the last page on the right,

above, the following encounter with the punch bowl is described:

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http://cwis.fcla.edu/edl/index.php?P=Homehttp://cwis.fcla.edu/edl/index.php?P=Home


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of the other. After rowing about seven miles, we landed on the shore of

the main-land, at place called the Punch-Bowl, not far south of [the]

Miami River. This was the place from which we were accustomed to

procure water for the schooners casks and water-tank. It required four

boat-loads of casks to fill the tank, and after it was filled, the casks were

usually replenished. A full supply of water used to last from three to fourweeks, as, excepting for the purpose of drinking, in which the men were notrestricted, a very small amount of fresh water was allowed.

The Punch-Bowl is worthy of description. On the straight and wooded

shore of the mainland is a little bluff which has been described as the

remains of an ancient line of es which were once an ancient line of Reef.

In the face of this bluff, which is separated from the water by a beach notexceeding two yards in width, is an excavation like a little cave, and in this

excavation is a deep hole, called the Punch Bowl. It is filled with pure

water that filters through the ground from the Everglades, which lie a fewmiles to the westward. It in an exhaustless spring, so close to the ocean that

a high tide washes into its basin.

We ran the bows of the boats close to the Punch-Bowl, and, taking the

bungs out of the casks, stationed two men with buckets at the spring. Each

man dipped his bucket and passed it along a file of men reaching to his

boat. In this way, the buckets constantly going to and fro, in the course of

an hour the casks were filled. We started off immediately with our deeply-

laden boats, and put up sail to aid our progress, as the casks so obstructed

the thwarts that the men could not pull all the oars.

Now, the simple task that awaits is to pin down this Miami legend to a map,

and wherever it may be, go there. Hah! Youtry it, sometime!

To: Chapter 2

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http://growingintothemystery.net/2011/07/04/chapter-2-gathering-clues-in-pursuit-of-a-legend/http://growingintothemystery.net/2011/07/04/chapter-2-gathering-clues-in-pursuit-of-a-legend/

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