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By ALEX LEARY
© St. Petersburg Times, published January 12, 2001
CRYSTAL RIVER -- Like a runner loading up on carbo-heavy pasta before a marathon, Joyce Kleen is readying herself for a grueling exercise.
It is the night before takeoff and the 41-year-old U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service biologist has prepared her own ritualistic meal: chicken and an allergy pill.
In the morning, it is toast and butter. And then she sticks behind her ear a patch containing the drug scopolamine.
Too much can cause double vision, so Kleen has cut the patch into four sections. She'll need the rest for another day.
Clipboard in hand, her brown fleece zipped up tight, Kleen and a pilot board a Cessna at Crystal River Airport. For the next two hours, at 1,000 feet, the plane circles over the coastal waters of Citrus County.
The scopolamine, which is similar to Dramamine, and the light meals help stave off nausea. Many times the trips go without incident, but if the air is choppy, the Cessna can bounce like a toy.
Kleen needs to be sharp as she focuses on the brown and gray blobs below.
They are manatees and Kleen is counting them, as she has hundreds of times in the past 10 years, in an effort to track the endangered species.
"This refuge was established for protection of the West Indian manatee," said Kleen, seated in a chilly conference room at the Fish and Wildlife office in Crystal River after a recent survey.
"In order to do that," she added, "you want to find out what you have out there as far as your resource."
Each winter, manatees flock to local waters because the flow from springs in Crystal River and Homosassa is warmer than the water in the Gulf of Mexico.
The slow-moving marine mammals show up all over the coast, but Citrus County has historically been one of the main destinations.
From high above, manatees look like pickles in shallow pools of green and blue water. Invariably during the winter, boats are anchored near the manatees and snorklers are floating between the herd, which seems to grow each year.
Data collected by Kleen suggests the numbers are on the rise, though she says her skills may have simply improved over time.
In the 1988-89 winter season, there was an average of 152 manatees in the area. There were 225 last year, with a high of 337 recorded in February. A record was set this November when Kleen counted 386 manatees.
"The situation is much more positive in the Crystal River area than anywhere else in the state," observed Bruce Ackerman, a marine biologist for the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.
One obvious reason is there are fewer manatees killed here than in more populated areas, such as Tampa Bay.
Fish and Wildlife has worked closely with dive shops and marinas to educate people about the dangers of harassing manatees or speeding near the springs.
Citrus County was one of the first to develop a manatee protection plan, which established strict criteria for water-related activity.
Docks, for example, must be built so sufficient sunlight can pass through the cracks, allowing underwater vegetation to grow.
But perhaps the greatest reason for the healthy population of manatees in Crystal River stems from the aerial surveys.
By mapping which areas manatees are concentrated in, Fish and Wildlife has been able to establish speed zones for boats and sanctuaries that are off limits to humans.
In 1983, there were three sanctuaries in the Crystal River area. Today there are seven. One of the most recent, Three Sisters Spring, was established in 1997 after survey data indicated a growing concentration of manatees in the area.
From Nov. 15 to March, when the areas are sanctuaries for manatees, surveys are conducted once a week, from the Cross Florida Barge Canal north of Crystal River to the Homosassa River.
To ensure consistency, only two people count, Kleen and Bob Quarles. But mostly it is Kleen. As she flies over a certain area, Kleen plots the manatee locations on a grid.
"If the numbers keep going up, I keep circling and I wait until the numbers level off or go down," she explained.
"But they move, they don't necessarily stay stationary. So another thing that I do is when I keep flying these circles I'll count the whole area too. You just kind of have to keep track where they are moving, how many are on the bottom, how many just came up."
After nearly two hours of circling, Kleen's body tells her it is time to land. Right after the Cessna touches down, she removes the patch from behind her ear.
The drug continues to work for the rest of the day, though.
"That's why I don't like interviews after I fly," Kleen said half-jokingly. "I don't like to do anything where I have to do a lot of thinking."