Mosquito Alcatraz

By Thomas Thorspecken

My friend, Stella P. Arbelaéz Tascón had to pick up art from from the Morean Gallery in Saint Petersburg and she also had to go to the Colombian consulate in MIami to pick up her national ID, a document which she had to renew. She had the brilliant idea of also going to the Everglades to see the protests happening against Alligator Alcatraz.

Alligator Alcatraz is a 3000 bed concentration camp being build with tents on Dade-Collier Training and Transition Airport which was abandoned due to its being an environmental travesty. The point of this facility is the cruelty.

Since this was such a far drive we decided to camp overnight near the protest in the Big Cypress National Preserve. When we got to the entrance of the detention center there were unfortunately no protestors. Stella decided to talk to the State Trooper. She parked her Prius at the entry way and the trooper said over a loud speaker that she would have to move her vehicle, which she did. I stayed in the car with her dog, Boo Boo, who always is nervous when he looses sight of her. She explained that we were illustrative journalists and wanted to know when the protestors were usually out. She was told that there had been maybe ten protestors in the morning. A man standing near a federal vehicle  joked condescendingly that the “they all leave the moment the first mosquito come out.”

Disappointed, we decided to go to the campground she reserved, to set up our tents. We planned to experience what it was like to camp in the Everglades like the inmates. The site had a covered picnic table and a small fire pit. It overlooked a lake which would be nice when the sun rose in the morning. I threw my art bag on the picnic table and we threw the first tent on the ground to set it up. As I was unfolding a tent, Stella shouted, “Thomas, look at your legs, you are covered!”. Sure enough there were what seemed like hundreds of mosquitoes on the backs of my legs. Stella scrambled to get the bug spray out of the hatchback. I sprayed my legs frantically, but they kept buzzing around my face and ears. it was a full on frontal assault. Stella has walked through the Everglades on her 2020 through hike of the Florida National Scenic Trail, but this was too much. She shouted, “To hell with this!” and we threw the half unfolded tent into the Prius and drove off in haste. It took us another 45 minutes to kill all the mosquitoes that had followed us into the car. It was pure madness, absolute hell.

We drove past the entrance to Alligator Alcatraz one more time, and saw a single woman holding a sign that said, “They kill Latinos here.” I admired her tenaciousness.

We pulled into an Indian Reservation parking lot and decided to find rooms in a La Quinta Inn near the Miami airport. Airplanes flew over the hotel all night long, but it was preferable to having a swarm of mosquitoes buzzing in my ears. I slept like a baby that night, so thankful I wasn’t in a tent being eaten alive. I decided that a much better name for the horrific detention center was Mosquito Alcatraz.