Bewildered

I put in from the hidden access off of Biscuit City Road, which doesn't really exist anymore, but such disappearances seem appropriate for going into the Great Swamp. 

It is an overcast day, one where there is enough light, but no hint of where the sun might be.  So, there is no clue about direction without pulling out my compass.   And, this is a place that I've never been to.  The other Great Swamp, the one I've been in several times a year is in New York.  This place is in the bottoms of Rhode Island.

Everywhere looks like this

I put in and paddle under the railroad finding one of the neighbors near the water.  We have a quick chat and I head off.  I follow the current and the river gradually broadens.  Traffic sound from a nearby road confuses me.  I don't remember a nearby road on the map.  At about 20 minutes I here water rushing, the sound of a dam or small cascade.  I find a small rapids formed by three shelves.  This was not in the description of the river.  I climb up on shore and take a look around.  The town I am in was also not on the map.  I am in the wrong river (this is the Pawtucket).  I return the way I came.

About a 100 yards from my start I find another route upstream...I don't know why I forgot that I should be going upstream, but I did.  I follow the current.  It quickly becomes apparent that this is a much greater swamp than the East Branch of the Croton.  It has few landmarks and most of it looks devilishly the same as the rest of it.  There are a good number of forks as I ascend the flow, but I note that the the stream rarely splits as it descends, so the way out will not be difficult to follow. 

Beaver Lodge

I paddle a good half hour or more before having to cut my way through a downfall.  I don't get much farther, just a couple hundred yards, before the passage peters out.  This is not a route to my goal,  Worden Pond, so I return.  I explore the other possible streams as I descend, but they don't go, and fortunately they "don't go" within a hundred yards of heading into them.

I get back to within about 15 minutes of my put-in and find another stream, with slower current and give it a try.  Sawed off downfalls appear regularly, so this is a good chance of being the correct route.  It meanders tightly, often only a few canoe lengths before bends.  But, this is a spirit swamp, heavily forested and dark with short sight lines and no indication of ending, and most of it is out of earshot of civilized sounds. 

Landmarks

Once again, I get to some downed trees blocking the route, but I have come a good long way and managed to find some landmarks that will let me determine an approximate location on the map. Looking through the brush I notice a dike and manage to get up on it to take a look around.

It is time to return, well short of the plan, but now having a feel for the lay of the land.  2/3's of my time today was spent paddling off route.

Above the Lowest Dam

April 30, 2019
We headed farther up the Housatonic, up above the lowest dam and put in at the Boy Scout launch.
A couple days ago I had found the current in the tidal section of the river to be surprisingly swift, a sure sign that a lot of water was coming through the dam.  I hoped that we would find the section above the dam to be easier paddling.

We slipped the canoe into 4 Mile Brook at the Boy Scout landing, a small sight that was greatly improved by an Eagle Scout project several years ago and shows that it receives regular maintenance.
From the put-in it is just a 50 yard cost under the road bridge and out into the big river.

I've paddled this section several times in the last few years and while not a favorite, it is close enough to home and after a mile or so heading upstream it takes on a bit of wild being surrounded by steep forested hills.  We found the main river running quite fast, a 2 to 1 current where there is normally just a barely perceptible movement.  This did not bode well as the crux of the upstream paddle is a shelf after the last of the riverside houses where the current picks up for 50 yards or so. 

We clawed our way upstream watching for eddies on the inside bends to give us a boost.  Unfortunately, the eddies didn't materialize and the current was swift bank to bank.  The only eddy was just below the shelf and we carefully took a rest there although I had to keep a paddle in the water to keep us out of the eddy line.  The current over the shelf looked to be moving a 6-8 mph, which is double what I can paddle at for a short stretch, so further passage upriver was out of the question plus that type of water would be a bit dodgy for M give skill and water temperature. So, from there we turned and carefully inserted ourselves out into the main current and rode the current back to our start point.

Exploratory

I went farther up the Quinnipiac River and put in on Hanover Pond, after the usual 20 minute talk with a couple of guys in the parking lot.

A recent news article claimed that the state had finally removed all of the dams on the Quinnipiac, which wasn't true.  They had removed the dams above Hanover Pond, but the two large dams below are still alive and well.  In fact, Hanover Pond exists because it has a dam holding the water back.

I headed upriver finding more than enough fish hooks dangling from overhanging tree branches.  I removed them and collected as much of the line as possible.  After about a 1/2 mile I came to a whitewater stretch of perhaps 500 yards of class I-II water.  Too fast to paddle against, but portagable on river left.  I could see that the top of the section was a fair chute drop over a former dam.  I decided to turn back and explore the pond.  (Later I found that there is more fast water above what I could see from the canoe. This is more or less a one-way section of river).

I circled the perimeter of the pond and found that there is a second tributary.  Smaller than the river it divided into two creeks.  The river right creek turned out to be Sodom Creek (there was a sign on the bridge where I turned back).  It became too shallow to paddle after a hundred yards.  The second creek went longer and I considered naming it Lost Bicycle Creek for the discarded bikes that were in it.  I managed a few hundred yards before the current and shallow depth made it an easy decision to return.

Nasty Day

I put in again at the Feral Cat Park, but this time I head up river.  It is a cool, almost cold day for this time of year and cloudy with a constant threat of rain.  The tide coefficient (the difference between high and low tides) is small today, so there should be little current.  However, the river is speeding along.  Apparently, there is a lot of water coming over the dam up at Shelton.

I grind along up the east shoreline.  I figure this to be a 3 to 1 current (3 times as long to against as it takes to return).  I don't mind much a 2 to 1 current, but the bank rolls by pretty slowly when it's faster than that.  So, I hug the shore and stay in the shallows looking for eddies that will pull me along faster, but there just aren't many today.  There's not much time to use the camera, but then again, there's not much of a reason to photograph anything today.

Just past Transfer Station Cove I spot a fish head...and a fishing line extending from it.  I pull over and retrieve the lost tackle.  The fishermen are going after striped bass, which have to be over 28 inches to keep, so when they lose a hook they lose a big hook.  In fact, the fish has already been well scavenged and I am surprised that the hook, leader and weight didn't get tangled in whatever ate the fish.  I collect the gear for safe disposal.  Not a year goes by when I don't find a large bird hooked, trapped or killed by lost fishing tackle.

It takes about an hour and quarter of stiff paddling to get to the high bridge.  That's about a 1/2 hour longer than normal.  I cross over and follow the west bank back.  It is an easy paddle...don't really have to paddle in fact.  It rains when I cross back over the river.  My total bird count is 1 Sandpiper, 1 Osprey, 1 Mute Swan and 1 Redwing Blackbird.

Wheeler Marsh

I put in at the Feral Cat Park after a totally delightful talk with H, a Environmental Conservation Officer (aka game warden).  She stopped by to safety check me.  Anyway, we talked about nature, art and so forth.  Such things seem to happen more often than not around here.

Canada Goose Nest

The tide is just starting to come in but there is a small difference between high and low today, so there are also small currents.  The downstream paddle into the flood current is easy.

It is the season of "Swans don't swim away"  and I a reminded of this just a 1/4 mile into the trip.  A swan off to my right starts swimming slowly toward me, very casual as if it didn't see me (bird vision is so superior to ours that if you see a bird it is an almost sure bet that it has already seen you).  At about 30 ft distant, it begins the pulsing power kick.  It's an aggression signal, strong kicks that raise a 2 inch high bow wave in front of the bird.  Usually, they will lower the head and raise the wings over the back, something akin to the stance that a boxer takes when the bell rings.  This time, at about 8ft, it turns and parallels me until I pass.  There's no nest within a 100 yards, so this is probably just hormonal rage, so to speak.

This pair is being chased off by a third Swan

I flush a couple dozen Brandts just above the marsh (I'll spot about 60 on my tour), and spot a new Swan nest on the island.  For the last two years there has been a nest nearby and I suspect it is the same pair except that they've moved to a safer location across the channel.

As I circle the marsh I spot a few Yellow Legs each hundred yards or so.  Add a couple of passing Great Blue Herons and a few Snowy and Great Egrets. 

On the right might be a Long Billed Dowitcher.  Not sure about the other.

The grass is down and having not been here in a few months, I miss the entrance to Nell's Channel.  So, for about 20 minutes I am off course somewhere trying to weave my way back on course.  Most of the channels in this marsh dead end, but often not until you've paddled several hundred yards.

Appears to be a Western Sandpiper.  Note drooping bill

I spot a Willet and while taking a photo notice two Western Sandpipers.  As I said a couple days ago, my eyes are still tuning for shore bird spotting. 

Willets

The water has come up enough that I can see across the full expanse of the marsh.  There seem to be a lot of Osprey, more than I can remember seeing at one time.  All three of the nest boxes are in use and a fourth has been built on a stranded dock section. 

New Dock Section Nest

I spot two more Willets at the top of Nell's Island.

Snapping Turtle Day - and the First of the Willets

The marsh is alive with new songs and it is plain obvious that birds other than the Osprey are in town.  The tide is just past low and rising, so I head up the East River as my secret side routes will be closed off until more water arrives.

Osprey

There are several Willets near the put-in as well as an equal number of Yellow Legs.  The Willets are arriving to set up nests, the Yellow Legs will migrate farther north within a few weeks.  As far as the Willets, it is not a full marsh population yet nor have they begun to squabble over nesting territory, so it is my guess that the first of them arrived about a week ago.  My eyes are still getting tuned to Willet spotting - on a background of silty dead grass they can be quite hard to spot unless they move.

Willet

I spot Willets every so often all the way up to the bottom of the Big Bends.  I wonder if the Big Bends might have more nests this year.

Snapping Turtle #1

Just below the Arch Bridge I spot a hawk that I can't identify.  It perches in a leaf pile up in th fork of a tree.  I will have to watch and see if this is a nest.  Two Snowy Egrets stand watch on the other side of the bridge and they let me pass without complaint. 

Between there and the Duck Hole Farms I spot two snapping turtles that have hauled themselves out of the water to soak up sun.  I give one a tap to see if it will move, but it is very lethargic and not up to operating temperature.

Snapping Turtle #2

Three Osprey are hunting up above the Gravel Flats, where I also spot two Kingfishers.  The current picks up here and grows as I near the Foote Bridge.  In fact, at Foote Bridge I find the current stronger than I've ever seen before, a combination of high water from recent rain and low tide.  Getting above the bridge took some effort and careful eddy hopping.

RedWing Blackbird

I return on a good current until I reach the Big Bends.  There the flood tide begins to work against me, and soon the wind also shifts into my face.  The Sneak is well flooded, so I cross into Bailey Creek and continue down, flushing a dozen Teal in one of the bends.

Post Industrial River

I put in at the edge of Bridgeport Harbor with the intent of heading up the Pequonnock River until it disappears under the city. I begins raining as soon as I am in the canoe and it will continue raining until the last 15 minutes of the trip. 

Bridgeport's industrial age has pretty much faded since that advent of foreign outsourcing.  Like older cities, the industrial zones were crowded around the edges of rivers to take advantage of waterpower and shipping...and easy disposal of waste.  I hug the north side of the harbor passing a new marina development and some smaller workboat facilities.  Then the trip is a series of passing under bridges, passing old brick shop buildings, salvage yards, and broken or obsolete equipment that has been pushed out of the way and up to the top of the river banks.

This looks to me like an old steel mill

 Eventually, the river narrows and I pick up a slight current to paddle against.  The banks become treed, but also debris filled with old furniture, plastic toys, television remains, etc.    I pass a guy fishing...I would not eat anything from this river.  But, he's a nice enough guy and tells me that their are striped bass in this stretch of the river.

The Tunnel

Looking at maps, I could not tell if the river was passable above where it disappears under the city.  But, as I neared the entrance I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  It turned out to be a clear easy paddle of a quarter mile or so in the dark.  Just long enough and dark enough to create a slight feeling of vertigo.  It was shallow at the far end, but still canoeable.

Above the tunnel the river takes on more of a channeled ditch appearance.  I turned back from there and had an easy paddle with a bit of tailwind and a light current to ride on.