Lieutenant River

When I drove over the high bridge, it appeared that there might still be some skim ice on the big river. This hardly seemed likely, as we've had a few warm enough days with some rain. Of course, it is most likely just the gentle wind lightly rippling the water surface so that the seemingly endless overcast clouds shimmer in an icy reflection.

I put in on the Lieutenant River. It is one of those old friend rivers, big enough to be interesting, but never so upset by the weather to be threatening. No one else is around, of course. It is in the mid 40's with a light north wind and a scatter of rain drops that don't meet the definition of rain. The drops seem more to be water that got tired of drifting above on the air currents and it is never so much as to show on my clothing.

The bird of the day is the Common Merganser. I spot several small groups of male Mergansers. There may be some females, but at their scare distance, the males stand out clearly in their tuxedo feathering. A very noisy Hawk flies over. It might be a Sharp Shin based on the squared off tail.

The tide is out, but with a low tide coefficient for the day, the water never got down to its usual bottom. I cautiously paddle through Boulder Swamp, watching for the barely submerged canoe bangers that I know are there. With no wind on the water, they are doubly hidden. The Bald Eagles have not returned to their nest yet. The nest is easy to spot in winter, but when the leaves are out, it takes some staring up into the trees to find it, and it is only 20 yards from the water.

Mill Brook

I head up the bottom of Mill Brook. Usually this does not go at low tide. The water is quite clear. There are quite a few small pieces of broken pottery, as usual. Most of it is unidentifiable, too small to show off a distinctive curve that would tell me that it is a tea cup or plate or vase. The water is too low to paddle under the bridge, so I call it, far enough. There is about another 500 yards of brook up to an 18th century dam, but the frequent deadfalls often make it too much torture for such a short distance. On the way back out, I pick out a porcelain tea cup fragment. It has a printed design of a building with the words, "Education Building Albany, N..."

I head up into the top of Lieutenant River, flushing more Mergansers and working through the meanders until the marsh closes in. Then, I head back down.

I continue past my put-in wanting to check out the conditions on the big river. I spot a Harrier on the way. There is no ice on the river, so it was a figment of my imagination. But, there are a couple Loons out in mid channel and a group of four Long Tail Ducks, and another Male Merganser. With that, I call it a day and head back.

The Milford Loon Fest

I put in at the town harbor for a short trip. It's overcast for the umpteenth day in a row, which is not so exiting, but it is calm and the timing of the tide is just right for getting under the railroad bridge at the top of Gulf Pond. The temperature is in the high 30's. I am the only moving boat in the harbor.

The harbor is less than a mile in length. I pass a Common Loon not more than 200 yards from the put-in. At the mouth of the harbor, I pass three more Loons. They are all adults in non breeding plumage.

I head under the bridge and into Gulf Pond. The fifth Loon is just a couple hundred yards up the pond. I follow the west short up to the second bridge.

There are quite a few Canada Geese and Gulls in the upper pond. I flush some Black Ducks, Mallards and a few scattered groups of Buffleheads. Then, ducking under the third bridge and, 50 yards later, ride the flood current through the railroad bridge. 

This section is kinda sorta the Indian River. It's pretty quiet in that I seem to be the only wildlife in sight. I turn back from the highway bridge.

The tide is still in flood, so the railroad bridge is a power test to break the current. 20 minutes ago, I might not have been able to get through. 

 I find 5 Loons coming back, and I am guessing that they are the same. The first is about halfway into the harbor and the others come about 200 yards later. Then, there is a whistle, a really obvious whistle, I find a mature Bald Eagle perched in the top of a tree on the opposite side of the harbor.

Figure Eighting the Marsh

I thought about several places to head for, and I settles on a return to my local Wheeler Marsh, mainly because of the large number of Canada Geese that I saw on my last trip. I don't think that I will ever get enough of seeing a chevron of Geese passing high overhead, their honking audible so much so that I often hear them before they are sighted.

It is about 40F with a thick overcast and almost no wind. High tide is just about now and the marsh is fully flooded. 

I find two small flocks of Canada Geese, about twenty in each, right at my put-in. They don't worry about me too much until I start carrying the canoe down to the water. Then, they fly off, which flushes another forty that are a bit upriver and a second group of forty that are downriver. Half of them follow the shoreline south, half of them follow the shoreline north. I paddle off following, more or less, the shoreling in a clockwise direction. When I get to Milford Point, I decide to cut back diagonally, taking advantage of the high water. I'll paddle the marsh in a distorted figure eight. I flush a flock of 2 dozen Widgeons from near the point. Spot a few Buffleheads as well.

As I head towards the central phragmites patch, I hear someone talking. Only then do I notice the hunter's blind, which is still a 150 yards off. I give them plenty of space and continue. The blind may explain why I saw the Geese near the put-in as well as their flight paths. Most of the outer reaches of the marsh are a no hunting zone because of nearby houses.

Red Throated Loon

I paddle past the patch and head towards Cat Island. Find a Red Throated Loon fishing the channel by the island. I follow the north edge of the island, spotting a half dozen white tail deer on the island's ridge line. I circle the island and coming out, find the Loon again, this time downriver. It is fishing by swimming back and forth across the channel. This area is shallow enough that it goes to mudflat at most low tides, so any fish moving through on the current are vertically restricted.

I take my back channel sneak upriver, then return downriver using the diagonal off of Nell's channel. And with that, I call it a fine day.

I'm back

It's been a long stretch out of the canoe. The annual covid dose was followed by a good solid week of winter weather that would have been imprudent to deal with. Paddling alone always means carrying a pocketful of chickenshit, but when paddling alone in the winter I fill up both pockets.

It is high tide with a light east wind and a temperature of 38F. Although there is a threat of rain, right now it wouldn't be more than a few drips. That might change later this afternoon.

I put in at the Wheeler launch, right on the east side of the marsh. Today, I skip the mile of river paddling from the high bridge access. The spartina is still standing tall. The inch of snow with freezing rain wasn't enough to knock the grass down. I head out across, weaving through the thinner stands of spartina, heading for Nell's channel. There is some ice, but it is small patches in protected nooks. The wind and warming has broken up the rest of it.

Canada Geese are going to be the dominant bird today. It is that clear right away. At first, it is flocks of 15 or 20, taking flight while I am two hundred yards or more away. I'm guessing that Goose hunting season is over, because there are never any Geese in here when the hunters are about. I also flush some Mallard and Black Duck flocks - dozen or two at a time, usually.

I get to Nell's and head upriver bucking a 2:1 current. Flush a Great Blue Heron, which flies only far enough to be comfortable with me, then a Harrier, which flies a line just 10 feet fro the water and no more than a dozen feet high until it gets to the top of the marsh, where my eyes can no longer detect it.

I head over to Beaver Creek. I flush more than 200 Canada Geese from the marsh between the creek and Cat Island. They are so much more skittish than Black Ducks, that I decide these must be migratory Geese. Canada Geese are grouped into migratories and residentials, as many of them have learned to live year around grazing lawns, parks and golf courses. The recent cold weather snap has pushed these down to the coast, which is more where they belong anyway. Quite a few Mallards and Black Ducks up in Beaver Creek.

I come out of Beaver Creek, take my sneak up past the central phragmites patch, and call it a day.

Bittern Number Five

I put in for a short trip around the marsh, starting from under the highway bridge. The tide had just begun to come in, but the day's tide coefficient is low, so the water won't be particularly low and the tidal currents will be light. Tide coefficient is calculated from locations of the moon and sun, but a low number gives you small difference between high and low and a high value gives you a large difference. Anyway you look at it, today I will not have much current to impede or help me, and I should be able to clear most of the shallower channels. It is partly sunny and the wind is about 10mph out of the W and N, which is mostly at my side.

I head downriver. There is a lot of woody debris in the water, much of hit hanging up on pilings. Spot a Common Loon just below the drawbridge. At the marsh, I continue down Nell's channel. A Great Blue Heron flies across ahead of me. I flush a Harrier near the top. Just a bit farther, I flush a Bittern from a small open mud patch a few yards back from the river. At first, I assume that it is a Night Heron, but I quickly decide that the body position/shape is way off. I've flushed dozens of Night Herons, and this was not one. It's only the fifth time that I've seen a Bittern.

Coming across the bottom of the marsh, a flock of 20 Buffleheads fly past. Towards the center of the marsh are two hunters tending a flock of decoys.

I finish circling the marsh and head back up. A hundred yards from the end, I catch, out of the corner of my eye, something fairly large diving, less than twenty feet away. I pause and wait for many seconds. A Loon surfaces about 75 yards away.

The Big Game

 While the water level of the Connecticut River is still high, it is well below flood levels, in fact it has dropped (Hartford gauge) 11 ft down to a reasonable high water level of 10 ft. I toyed with putting in on the big river at Cromwell. At the current level, the upstream paddle can be a bit of work, but it is definitely doable. I looked at it from the car and decided that I didn't feel like working. So, I headed to the nearby usual put-in on the Mattabasset.

The water was high with the forest floor awash in some areas, and not in others. As I paddle downstream, I am struck by the number of catalpa trees that I just don't remember. The bare winter branches still have the foot long dangling seed pods. Getting closer, I realize that I am looking at marsh grasses and reeds left in the tree branches by the flood. The highest are about 8 ft above the water.

Father down, I am able to cut through a narrow strip of forest and paddle out of the marsh up to the backside of Tepee Lodge ruins. There are some new muskrat lodges, and most of them are built on ground that will be fully exposed as the water continues to drop. The muskrats will have to rebuild, of course.

Sharpshin Hawk

I head down to the Connecticut River. The current is not as bad as I thought. I head back up.

In the Great Meadows (I still find it odd that the earlier settlers named this a meadow, as I can't imagine it ever being less than knee deep at any point) I paddle back in one of the old trench channels suspecting and finding that there is an open channel at the edge of the trees. I take this north, cut through the forest again and head into thenext marsh to see if I can locate the Hummingbird nest that I found on my last trip. Today, it's about 8 ft up. Last time I could look into it while sitting in the canoe.

Hummingbird nest

I pass the put in and continue for another mile before calling it a day.

I missed the big game, or did I?

Loons

A minor plumbing fix diverted my attentions to closer to home waters. I put in at the town harbor in a light sprinkle coming down from a thick overcast. The tide has just peaked and the wind is near calm. There is not another boat moving in the harbor. 

I spot two Common Loons before even getting out of the harbor, a distance of 2/3 mile. Then I turn up Gulf Pond, also know as the Indian River, and formerly known as the East River, when it was the eastern boundary of the Milford Colony. 

Gulf Pond/Indian River can be broken up into three geographical segments. Right at the mouth of the harbor, one passes under a bridge into the lower pond. Time that wrong and you might not be able to break the tidal current, although most of the time one can make it with some effort. A thousand yards up, one passes under another bridge, again with a potential fast tidal current - pretty much the same story as the lower bridge. This second pond is about a half mile long. At the top is a low road bridge, which doesn't have any problems with current. There is, however, an issue at very high tides when a canoe will not fit underneath. Just 50 yards up is the key to getting into the third section. This is a railroad bridge, and like most railroad bridges in this area, it was built over a hundred years ago with no regard for the health of the marsh. These old bridges badly constrict tidal water exchange. The bottom under the bridge is jagged boulders, so low tide is a nasty carry. Ideally, one times this bridge so that you enter just before or near high tide. There is about a mile and a half of river to explore above that until one gets to a fish ladder, although one mile up is another very low road bridge that is not passable during a normal high tide.  Time the whole trip right, and the return trip is easy with a fast drop under the railroad.

This week, I figured out more about the Native American village sites. It turned out that I had an 1835 map of Milford in my records, and there I found the missing Old Field Swamp, which is still there, although without the old name. An archaeology report had tipped me off that a village was located between the Old Field Swamp and Indian River. The map even labeled a "Indian Burial Place", which was exactly between the swamp and the river. I'll just guess that the village was on the nearby high ground, and that a whole neighborhood of 1950's houses are built on an Indian burial ground.

I made my way all the way up to the very low road bridge, which was still a good two inches too low for the canoe. On the way back,  I spotted a third Common Loon in the lower pond. It was fishing and kept its distance by swimming ahead of me until I got near the bottom of that section, whereupon it vamoosed. 

Back in the harbor, I found two Loons together. They were more or less resting, so they must have already ate well. They called to each other with a soft moan, not at all what most people think of as Loon calls. I spotted a fourth Loon (I'm pretty sure the pair was a repeat sight) near my take out.