Boulder Swamp

It was a faiely calm and warm day and still sunny when we set out although the weather prediction was for rain storms later in the day. Other people were about at the launch site, so we stashed our gear as quickly as we could and paddled straight away up river.

The phragmites and cattails that line the river were well filled with calls from Red Wing Blackbirds and Marsh Wrens.  I never really thought about it but there is a similarity in the birds call, perhaps just enough that a predator might confuse the calls at a distance or on a windy day.  Every so often I spotted a Marsh Wren nest in the reeds.  Osprey were about and no busier than usual.  We saw one carry a quite large fish up to a perch where it wasted no time in beginning dinner.

In Boulder Swamp

Boulder Swamp was living up to its name, especially with low tide.  At any tide level one has to pick their way through an obstacle course of ice age left behinds.  Today, most of them were two to five feet out of the water.  This gave S some practice at steering the canoe from the bow.  She had the best view of submerged boulders and shallow spots and while we bumped and dragged on a few I let her be to figure it out.  As we headed in toward Mill Brook we spotted a large immature Bald Eagle.  There is a nest on this point although today it was hidden behind the foliage.  A small mature Eagle flushed from a lower branch.  The mature Eagle was surprisingly petite and is the male to be sure, the males of the species being about 20 percent smaller than the females.  In fact, it looked no bigger than the immature that we'd seen a few yards earlier.

Small male Bald Eagle

The low water prevented us from getting up around the first bend on Mill Brook.  I knew from past trips that a line of boulders across the brook required a carry that would only extend the trip by about 75 yards.  So, we turned back from there.  There is a fair amount of beaver activity in this area although with our low water vantage point we were unable to see any signs.

S picked our way back through the boulders by a somewhat better route.  There, we picked up a fresh head wind as the sky started to cloud over.  We took out just as a sparse sprinkle of rain began.

Paddling Away from the Mad World

I set out from the Feral Cat Park early enough to take advantage of the cool morning on what will be a warm and sunny day.  The tide is low and still dropping as I skim over the broad sandbank that guards this side of the river.  I head upstream.  All canoe trips at this time seem to be trips into a sane world.

The big river is 200 yards or wider up to the first dam, maybe 10 miles.  It can have some motorboat traffic, but the deep channel is narrow and is often quite near one shore or the other leaving most of the river to my canoe.  Osprey are active right now and I see a few flying by with fish in their talons.  There is a new (to me) nest in a power line tower a 1/4 mile inland from the bank.  I flush one Black Crowned Night Heron from the spartina marsh and see several Great Egrets wading on the far side of the river.

I mess around with my camera.  I drowned my good camera on my last trip, but I had a good although smaller camera stashed away.  It takes a few moments to remember the workings.
My drowned camera had become a little bit buggy recently and when I opened it I noticed right away some corrosion on metal parts.  Ten years of wet environment use seems like a good deal if it is dead for good.

I round Great Flat by following the east bank and decide to make this a short trip.  I stop myself from saying that I have something better to do because while I have other things to do I cannot thing of a better thing to do than paddle a canoe. It is a full day up to the dam and back, and worth doing sometimes but today the heat and sun would catch me before finishing.  I paddle into the shade when I get to the bottom of the Dragonfly Factory.  I look ahead and see deep cool shade for the next 1/2 mile.

There was a Seagull eating a dead fish when I paddled up.  On my return I see another Gull come in and make an excellent steal.  They squabble behind me as I continue.

I turn when I run out of shade and ride a decent current back following my route except to round Great Flat on the west side.

From the Forks

June 21, 2010

We put in at the forks.  The Shetucket comes in from the east, the Yantic from the west, and magically they become the Thames that leads down to the sea.  That the largest river, the Thames, doesn't keep a name all the way to one source is a geographical mystery to me.

We started up the Shetucket.  The northern bank of this river is populated with a large number of mill remains that have long since been abandoned, burned or demolished.  Brick foundation walls and outflow tunnels from the water driven factories are the main markers.

Within a 1/2 mile the river starts to become shallow and boulders start to appear just below the surface.  We weave through a rock garden against easy swift water and wade one bank to bank gravel bar.  Even though I timed the trip for high tide, this spot is just a bit short of floating a loaded canoe.  Some open water leads to another rock garden that requires a bit more detailed route finding to avoid grounding out or being pushed back by fast water.  And with that we come to the impressive ruins of the Capeheart Mill.

Capeheart Mill ruins

The textile mill remains stands on a man made island with the back channel being the water power feed from the Greenville Dam that lies another half mile upriver.  After going upriver a couple hundred yards to where it becomes wading depth, we return to explore the banks and outflow tunnels.

M collects a mud filled clock radio.  The mill was burned in 2010 most likely by an arsonist.  So, the radio is possibly something that washed out of the mill as the fire department hosed the flames.  Two years ago I found a rusty mechanical check writing machine near this spot.  We also find some 1 inch wide drive chain.  Unfortunately, the water is too low to get the canoe into the tunnels, so we go in a ways on foot in until the mud becomes shoe-sucking.  There are some recent raccoon or opossum tracks.  As we load up to leave, I manage to tip the canoe over and drown my camera.  Hopefully, it will recover, but if not it is 10 years old with 20,000 photographs on its resume.

We pick and drift our way back down through the boulders and pass our put in to head up the Yantic.  Once past the marinas, which are on a long island in the river, the Yantic becomes quiet surround by lush forested hillsides.  Then, one more old mill, this one converted with a good deal of care into condominiums.  Just upstream of the mill is the former power source, a fifty foot cascade that tumbles down through a narrow break in the cliffs.  We make a few meanders and around islands and return.

East River

Morning comes calm and sunny and far too nice to not take advantage of.  When I put in the tide is still coming in but at a high enough level that I just might get through the Sneak.  I head up the Neck River.

The Willets are particularly active this morning.  Warning and complaints come from the banks and every so often one of them will fly near and past letting out a piercing call that warns all of the other Willets that a threat is near.  Sometimes a few others will rise up to see what the fuss is about. 

Willet

The Sneak is passable although about a half hour earlier it might have been a bit dodgy.

The Sneak

There are quite a few Marsh Wrens in the lower marsh.  This is well away from their nests as almost all of the potential nesting spots in the lower marsh flood with very high tides.

A single Glossy Ibis passes by when I get to the Big Bends.  It lands and I lose sight of it.

The tide is high when I get to Foote Bridge so I continue on another half mile to the first full span deadfall.  There I turn back.

I spot a flock of eighteen Glossy Ibises in the middle of the Big Bends.  I get a good count when they flush and move 200 yards to another feeding spot.

Glossy Ibises

I return back through the Sneak paddling against a mild headwind and with the aid of a steadily increasing ebb current.

The Stone Culvert

I set out with M from the silent cove that leads out into the Housatonic.  It is a spectacular day of perfect temperature, almost no wind and plenty of sun. 

We paddle our way down around the point and up the shoreline of an artificially widened Shephaug River.  Most people will call this Lake Lillinonah, but I tell M that I don't like referring to reservoirs as lakes since what they really are is dammed rivers.  This section of the river was dammed only in 1955, an act that drowned one small town and raised the water level about 90 ft where the dam is.  But, much of the shore is state forest or in some sort of preserve, so it is a good trip with forested hillsides.  I spot the Bald Eagle in its nest, just a tiny white spot that pulls back and disappears before M can get the binoculars on it.  I let M know that I only spotted it because I already knew exactly where to look.  A few minutes and the Eagle doesn't seem to want to show itself.

We spot two Orioles along the way.  The brilliant black and orange bird is one I never get tired of.

We take a short pause in the stone culvert and M shoots some video.  I have a hunch that it might have been for a railroad that ran in this area but I haven't found a map of the line, yet.  Regardless, this stone culvert is a serious heavy duty piece of work that far exceeds what we be needed for a standard road.

Another half mile and we get to the cascades.  This is our lunch stop as well as the limit to upstream travel.  The water is running low and the river-right channel has no current in it... first time that I've seen that.

We return following the east shore for awhile.  There is sparse development on that shore and we cross back over when we get tired of the somewhat close view of houses and docks.

Mattabesset

June 14, 2020
We put in at the upper end of this section.  It was an exceptional day of calm air, mid 70 temperatures and sun with large billowy clouds.  Other people had the same idea and we waited a few minutes for people that don't believe in viruses to move out of the way.  I suspect that there will be fewer fishermen when the pandemic subsides.

the open marsh

There were a good number of Great Blue Herons and it appears that the abandoned Bald Eagle nest might have been taken over by Osprey. 

This is a freshwater tidal marsh and the tide was low enough to expose at least one entrance to the Tepee (beaver) Lodge.  The sides of the entrance were squared off as if it had been dug with a backhoe.

Beaver lodge entrance

We made our way to the big river and paddled up the inner channel of the long island that guards the mouth of the Mattabesset.  At the upper end we could see that their were too many motorboats in the main channel to make circling the island pleasant, so we retraced our route.

S spotted a beaver just short of entering the open marsh.  It looked to be two to a few years old, not small nor particularly large.  It dove with a tail slap and did not resurface within sight of us.

East River Festival of Turtles

We put in not too long after low tide and headed straight up the East River since at this water level it is the only option.  S had not been out recently, hiking instead to rest a tender wrist, but everything was working today.  The river was a little quiet as with the tide returning the Willets have done a fair amount of feeding on the silt banks.  Osprey were here and there and seemed to also be done feeding except for an occasional opportunity that couldn't be refused.

At the Duck Hole Farms

We saw no one once we left the put in.  First one up the river sees the most is the rule, and we saw, probably, about a one hundred turtles that were either spy hopping us or slipping off the banks.  It is amazing how many turtles are in this river.

Near the Big Bends a dozen strong flock of Glossy Ibises were seen on wing.  They landed well away from us in a panne somewhere out in the spartina.  Unfortunately, the low water made it impossible for us to observe them. 

The water depth started to run thin at the Duck Hole Farms, as is normal at low tide.  Five Osprey and one Gull circled in the air. We turned back and into a mild and cooling head wind.  All the way down to Big Bends we were entertained by endless Marsh Wren singing although I only spotted two or three.  The Sneak was still too shallow to pass, so we retraced our route entirely.