A Mostly Day

Mostly, it's a mostly day - mostly sunny, mostly calm, mostly in the 40's.

There is a light north wind coming straight down the main river when I set out from the put-in at the mouth of Salmon Cove.  I have a short ways paddling into it before getting behind the cedar swamp that divides the lower cove from the river.  The cool breeze makes my eyes water.

I follow the shoreline and the few trees in the swamp absorb all of the wind.  It i calm.  There is a tiny bit of ice in the tiniest of protected spots along the shore.  The night air has been dipping to just below freezing.  By the time I put in at 10 AM, it was already 37F.

The first big lodge looks as if it is abandoned.  I suspected from earlier trips that someone was in here trapping.  Trapping is legal, and from my point of view, rather pointless as there is no money in it.... like it costs more to drive to a trapping location than what will be earned from the fur.  This is one of those locations where I believe that presence of beaver is beneficial enough that this area should be off-limits.  The beaver here had been building ponds, which in time will fill in and raise the ground level, which is a long term method of naturally fortifying this shoreline from climate change effects.

Dibble Creek beaver dam and lodge

I move on to the Dibble Creek beaver dam (passing a mature Bald Eagle perched at the point).  It is an old dam, not just firmly built, but also root bound by saplings and shrubs that have planted themselves all along the dam.  There is a narrow channel leading up to the dam, which I have no doubt was created by beaver swimming and dragging branches through the marsh.  I don't think that anyone other than myself comes back in here.  There is a lodge just on the far side of the dam and it is freshly mud fortified for winter and ready to go. The area smells of castoreum.

There are about 60 Mute Swans in the cove.  There are quite a few first year goslings, still gray, and at this time of year they are being introduced to the flock.  Spot some Teal overhead, three Coots, and maybe a dozen Black Ducks. 

I back out and head up the cove, passing Venture Smith's place where the river enters the cove.  I find some thin and rotten sheet ice in the back channel on my way up to Leesville.   Flush a half dozen Common Mergansers and spot another Bald Eagle just below the dam. Spot three Great Blue Herons, here and there along the way.

On the way out, I take my usual detour up into the Moodus River.  There is some fresh beaver activity - drags, gnawings.

I find one lodge on the river-left side as I head out, not too far from the put in.  It was an easy spot with a good amount of winter food stashed in the water. 

 

Point Lodge Rehab

The winds of November someone said.  It is windy again, as it has been for many of the previous days.  My last trip was the result of a 6 hour calm that came unexpectedly.  The weather for the day is - mostly sunny, temperatures in the 40's, and wind at 15 to 20 mph with gusts of 25 to 30 mph.  

Too windy to be out in open water or a unprotected marsh, I head to one of the few forested rivers in this area that makes for good canoeing.  Most of the narrow forest rivers in these parts are too thin, to shallow, or blocked by too many deadfalls to be worth the effort.  For the most part, calling many of them a river is ambitious. 

I put in on the Mattebasset.  The wind in the parking lot is enough that I have to make corrections as I portage the canoe down to the river.  But, it is close to calm at the river.  I head down river.

It is an easy and pleasant paddle with a bit of current from the falling tide. At the first wide spot, where there is a small open marsh, the wind penetrates.  This trip will not go out into the big marsh below.

The recently winterized Point Lodge

I spot a fresh gnawed tree and one small scent mound about a 1/4 mile above the abandoned Point Lodge.  There is no other beaver sign, until I get to the Point Lodge.  Surprise - the Point Lodge is being winterized.  While there isn't any newly cut wood on the lodge, it is freshly packed with new mud and there are a couple trails leading from the water onto the sides of the lodge.  The reason for no new wood is that there was a very plentiful supply where the former residents had built a protective tunnel for their entrance during last year's drought.   I suspect that a new beaver has moved into the lodge, just because there is so little activity (gnaws, drags and scent mounds).  I find another fresh gnawed tree about a 100 yards down from the lodge.

This is where the river starts to open up and a couple of gusts invite me to return upriver into the trees.

I continue past my put-in.  This area is not only treed, but also set down in a valley.  I don't quite make it to the train trestle.  The river is running shallow and there is a blocking log jam.  As I usually do, I pause at the log jam contemplating my options.  The jam would be a mess to climb over.  I did not bring my saw, which could handle the 4-inch tree that blocks a narrow end run on the jam, but that 4-inch tree is weighted by a second substantial tree. I'm not sure I would make the cut even if I had my saw as I'd rather not get pasted while sitting alone in the canoe by unexpected motion of the weighted log.  So, I sit, and then a deer wades into the river about 75 yards upstream.  It is a healthy looking 6-point buck.  It wades across without noticing me.  

 

A Weather Pause

I got up this morning and checked the weather forecast, and it was not good with a prediction for 10-15 mph winds with gusts of 20.  I was ready to stay in, hiding from the cloudy gloom, but everything changed, or more accurately, enough things changed.  An hour later, looking out the window, it seemed to be fairly calm. I looked at the forecast again, and the wind and gust predictions had all but disappeared. It'll be my first drysuit day of the season.  The water temperature is in the fifties at this point, and if it rains, the drysuit will be the perfect layer.

I put in under the high bridge. Nearby, a tug is tending two barges and by the time I head down, a pair of smaller powerboats are pushing one of the barges upstream with the flood tide assisting. It seems a little risky to me to trust that barge to the small boats, but who am I to argue.

I get down to the marsh in reasonable time and head into the Nell's Island maze using the most upstream entrance.  The tide is middling with about 3 more feet to rise.  I am not sure if the maze will be passable at this level, but it is a good day to find out - the deeper channels will stand out. The deadfall blockage that was in the upstream entrance since summer has floated off to who knows where.

The spartina is turning yellow-gold. This makes the glass-wort stand out, no longer both green, the glass-wort is turning reddish and stands out against the yellowing spartina. Even with the thick and low overcast, the marsh is spectacular.

The usual deadfall bypass 

There is one semi-obvious (at least if you've been through before) route from between the top and bottom of Nell's Island. There is a blocking deadfall, which will probably not change for a year or two, but nearby is a short, narrow and shallow bypass that I use regularly.  However, the bypass is not flooded yet with several inches of muddy goo exposed over the 15 yard length.  Earlier this year, I found a second route through the island but I haven't been able to locate it again.  This is a good excuse to spend the time hunting for it (looking for passages is best when the tide is high or still rising - it gives you time to back out of long dead ends).

The missing alternative route

I head back to the west and come to choice between two open channels.  I take the left one, for no real reason.  It keeps going, gradually narrowing, and twisting to either side.  Just as it looks like it will peter out, it opens up again.  That is rather typical with salt marsh channels as the tidal currents will enter the channel from either end and stagnate somewhere in the middle, and of course any sediment is prone to settling there.  So, I have found the missing alternative route and the only trick will be to remember how to get to it later on.

Back in the main lower exit, it is about as calm as calm could be.  I have flushed a couple Great Blue Herons and a few Black Ducks.  I head to Milford Point for a short break, spot a solitary Dunlin, then cross the marsh to the east shore, flush some more Black Ducks and a dozen migratory Canada Geese.  Head into the Central Phragmites patch, finding and collecting a lost Coot decoy (I've never seen a Coot decoy before), and then paddle up and into Beaver Brook.  There, I flush about forty Ducks, a mix of Blacks and Mallards. 

It begins to mist lightly as I head back out and once I get to the main river, a west wind comes in.  It is just barely starting to rain when I get back to my put-in.   

 

Beating the Wind

It was windy yesterday, and while it went calm overnight, the afternoon is predicted to be quite windy again.  That is autumn weather in these parts, predictably unpredictable.  It is calm when I get up, and I decide to take advantage of the weather.

I put in at my usual East River start - the old ford at Bear House Hill Road, which is signed Foote Bridge Road, which makes some sense as the Foote family burial ground is spitting distance away. 

The sky is overcast with a lumpy grey stratus. It is still in the low 40's and off in the far distance is a bit of sun glow pushing through. This sky always reminds me of my first hunting trips with my Dad, back when I carried a toy gun.  The only thing out of place is that the weather then was always about 10 degrees colder than today.  It is a comfort sky, a sky of good omen.  I spot a pair of large Hawks perched together in a tree near the Gravel Flats.  They are in silhouette with the sky, so it is impossible for me to identify the species.

As I near the Smallpox Burial ground, an immature Bald Eagle flushes heading downriver but then circling back and passing me.  

I explore one of the side channels in the upper marsh, and although I know that I have made it through before, I have to return the way I came after hitting two dead ends.

The Long Cut at Very High Tide

 

In the lower marsh, I head into the Left of the Sneak channel, just because the tide is high enough.  The tide will peak at 6.6 ft in about a half hour.  That level is about 3 inches short of the highest recorded. I head east into the Long Cut.  The wind starts to move as I get halfway through the narrow short cut. It steadily rises over the next fifteen minutes before it steadies at something short of 10 mph.  

I paddle a doodle rather than heading down to the bottom of the river - Long Cut to Bailey Creek, Then over the flooded high marsh to a farther down point on Bailey Creek, through an ole mosquito trench into the East River, back through a second mosquito trench into the Sneak, and up the Sneak back to the East River. 

Nearing the Old Ford

By the time I get up to the freshwater marsh, the trees are starting to blow, although it is of little bother down on the river.  My timing has been good. 

November Shows Up

It has been very windy and rainy for a few days, a spin-off from a powerful hurricane a long way south of here.  Today arrives sunny with a moderate wind.  I put in on the far side of town for a trip into the Wheeler Marsh.  The tide is an hour and a half past high, so I get an easy downriver ride to the good stuff.

It might be a bit late in tidal terms to make a run through the Nell's Island maze.  I probably could make it through most of the channels, but if I get misplaced, the narrower escape channels will already be closed off.  So, I run my simple clockwise circuit.

Ruddy Duck

I head down the channel that leads to the central phragmites patch.  I flush 15 or 20 Black Ducks and Mallards, and then a flock of fifty migratory Canada Geese.  This confirms that it is not hunting season, as those birds stick to the outer parts of the marsh where hunting is not allowed. As I make my way through the marsh over to Nell's channel, I flush a few more Ducks.  Near Nell's, I flush a juvenile Night Heron, and then spot a half dozen Brandts, then a Ruddy Duck in winter colors.  I don't see a lot of Ruddys and usually assume that the small low floating Duck is a Grebe until I can zoom in with a photo.

Brandt

I head out paddling up Nell's.  There are following waves in the river, a result of tide and wind opposing.