The Shipwreck Reach of the Connecticut

I put in at a new spot, a bit of State land in Cromwell.  The river is running faster than I expected and I regret not looking at the gauge this morning (it's at 8.5 ft - 2 to 3 ft above typical). On top of that, there is a stiff wind coming downriver that doesn't feel like the weather report (it was 10mph gusting to 20). The plan is to go upriver to the Rocky Hill Ferry. I decide to beat my head against it instead of retreating to the familiar nearby swamp. 

I hug the shore as much as possible to catch the slowest current and get some protection from the wind. Unfortunately, on this side of the river there are quite a few fishermen and I have to swing out into the main current to avoid their lines. After grinding that out for a half mile, I cut across the river where I won't have to dodge fishing lines.

The first mile takes more than 45 minutes. But, I start finding slack water in the wobbles of a natural shoreline. I can handle the wind, or the current, but not both, at least for very long. 

Fortunately, the wind starts to drop off. I make Gildersleeve Island in an hour and a quarter. The island is not quite 2 miles from my start. Across the channel from the island is a small sterile concrete bridge with a creek flowing out of it. I've seen it before and intended to explore it some day. (This is Carr Brook)This is the day, I guess. 

 

Carr Brook

The passage under the bridge goes from wide open river to a narrow forested creek. I feel like I've discovered a secret. Fifty feet in, I spot a little head looking at me. White chin hairs - it's a mink. Mink are curious critters and from the relative safety of its burrow entrance, it watches me as much as I watch it.

I continue up the creek a short ways. I spot a male Wood Duck - good terrain for a Woody. It has some "almost" blocking dead fall that I push past. After a few hundred yards, I decide to consult a map when I get home to see if there's enough possibilities here to make numerous log crawls worth the while. 

Back at the river, I continue upstream. The wind has died to almost nothing and the sky has gone from mostly clear to overcast. But, that first hour took the stuffing out of me and the Rocky Hill Ferry isn't going to happen. About halfway to the Ferry, I turn back. It's a very easy paddle back.

Camoflauge

I put in for a quick trip through the local big marsh. It is a very high tide, with only the last bit of it coming in. The sky is overcast, a thick humid type of cloud that can become a thunderstorm if the clouds stay put and the air currents go more vertical. It is in the mid 60's with a light wind coming up the river.

33 Sandpipers

I pass a Yellow Crowned Night Heron at the top of the marsh. Then, I head over to the fully flooded Nell's channel. In fact, the entire marsh is well flooded with the only dry spots being the phragmites patches, which don't survive regular periodic flooding. These high tides compress many of the birds that are in the marsh. While Ducks, Geese, and other water birds don't mind, the waders - Herons, Sandpipers, Willets and Yellow Legs, are on high spots waiting for feeding to resume.

Greater Yellow Legs (there is a Lesser Yellow Legs)

Paddling past a long floating mat of last year's phragmites and spartina, I notice a couple Sandpipers. Then, as my eyes are fixed, I realize that there are easily a hundred Sandpipers on this fifty foot long mat. And, that is how it goes whenever I am close to one of these mats. I spot a pair of Yellow Legs, and it becomes six or eight. I spot a Sandpiper, and suddenly ten of them flex their wings. Anything with a speckled pattern on the back practically disappears.

The lower marsh is flooded so that not even any of the spartina breaks the surface. I spot and hear a flock of Brandts over by Milford Point, while heading towards the east shore. Then, I cut down toward the central phragmites patch, where I find the nesting Swans busy raising their nest. Then, over to the east channel and back up the river.

The Quasi-semi-every-so-often Shelton Run

I put in under the highway and head upstream. It is a fine day with some wind and temperatures in the low 70's. The tide is still coming in.

The weather and tides have finally met in my comfort zone. Once in awhile, although not very often and definitely not every year, I paddle up this lower section of the Housatonic pretty much as far as one can. I set out with the tidal current pushing me up. The wind is in my face, but at its worst, the two seem to balance each other. Of note, there are two new Osprey nests at the old power station, making three total.

At the unnamed 6th island, a Bald Eagle flies over. It looks to have brand new white tail and head feathering as the underside color of the wings is still patchy.

At Wooster Island, a pair of orange flashes whiz by... Orioles. I don't see them all that often and it is always a treat. They refuse to pose for a photo.  A second mature Bald Eagle flies over.

The wind calms down above Wooster Island. I continue all the way up to O'Sullivan Island, in Derby. This is where the Naugatuck joins the Housatonic. Going up this part of the Naugatuck is a grim, pointless paddle between towering levees, and there is just a quarter mile or so to the Shelton Dam on the Housatonic, so this is a good turn around.

 

Derby

The return starts easy with a gradually increasing current behind me. Unfortunately, below Wooster Island, I get the predicted wind shift and will have a stiff headwind for the rest of the trip. I pay for the easy outbound leg as the current helps, but doesn't make up for the headwind. It is a game of paddling in as strong a current as possible while hiding from the wind as much as possible on the west shore.
A third Bald Eagle soars high over as I approach Pope's Flat.

It is an 18 mile trip with a steady 6-1/4 hours of paddling.

Bird Check

I put in on the Munketusuck to search for the elusive Little Blue Herons and Glossy Ibises. Actually, they're not that elusive, but I figured out over the last few years that they must have nesting colonies near the Menunketusuck River. Occasionally, I have spotted the Glossy Ibises in the Wheeler Marsh and the East River, during the spring when they are migrating in. They would disappear once nesting began. As to the Little Blue Herons, this is area is the only place that I've seen them. The last couple years, I figured out that tthey were fairly plentiful in this area once their young had left the nest. I can't be sure, but I figure that they might be nesting on nearby Duck Island - about a mile distant. 

It is a calm day. The temperature is already about 60F, the sky overcast but looking like it won't stay that way. The tide peaked about a 1/2 hour before I set out, and it is a higher than average tide. The spartina is just barely awash throughout the marsh. This is a high salt marsh, so it has the short spartina variety, and only floods a few times each month. 

Little Blue Heron

Just before getting to Opera Singer Point, I spot a mature Little Blue Heron and four Snowy Egrets. The trip has paid off.  With the Snowys, I have to see the feet as a first year Little Blue Heron is a lookalike. The Snowy has very obvious bright yellow feet, which is a "for sure" identifier. 

 

Glossy Ibises

This marsh has the river running through with two branches, one on either side. To make this a worthwhile outing, I always paddle both branches, which takes in the full scope of the marsh. Near the outer end of the west branch, I spot four Glossy Ibises a bit over a hundred yards distant. Now, the trip has really paid off. The Ibises are head down working the mud with their long curved bills - kind of a slow sewing machine motion. There are also some Willets and a couple small flocks of Yellow Legs. 

I head back, finish of the bottom of the river as far as the railroad bridge, then head into the east branch. There is a mature Bald Eagle perched over the abandoned opera singer's house (I think it is now wildlife refuge land, and they will remove it when budget allows, as they have done to a couple nearby cabins). Considering that it is pretty good feeding, there aren't as many birds as normal by the point, which I imagine has something to do with the predator in the tree. Past that though, I spot several more Snowy's, and a few Great Egrets. 

With that, I head back out, pushing against a moderate ebb current until back to the put-in.

A Clever Ruse

It is a far too nice day to not be out. I put in under the highway bridge It is about 60F with a light wind out of the East and the tide has just started to fall. It is an easy and quick paddle down to the marsh.

I'm greeted at the top of the marsh by a Yellow Crowned Night Heron, my first sighting of this bird this spring. It is clever ruse.

Yellow Legs

The marsh is still very much flooded as the passing high tide was a higher than usual one. The shoreline feeders, like Willets, Yellow Legs and Sandpipers are standing on the small patches of marsh that remain above water. Before I am even fifty yards up the inner channel, I've spotted 30 Yellow Legs, in groups of 6 to 20 individuals. There are also some Willets, but the Yellow Legs are much more numerous. 

The Central Phragmites Patch

I head up the east side, then out into the center of the marsh and paddle up towards the central phragmites patch. I flush a dozen or so Green Wing teal, a few Mallards, and a couple of Black Ducks. There is a Goose Nest well hidden in the phrgamites patch and a Swan nest out in the open on the east edge.

Perhaps Semipalmated Sandpipers

Next, I head along the upriver side of Cat Island. The water has already dropped enough that I can make it all the way around the island. So, I come back out and head up into Beaver Creek, which I haven't visited for a couple weeks.

The clever ruse is revealed right away. 4 Yellow Crowned Night Herons, then 2 more, then 2 more, then a few more. Before I turn and head back out, I've spotted at least 20 of them hiding back here. They will all nest on Charles Island, which is a mile distant.

Yellow Crowned Night Herons

I hug the shore on the way back up river against the ebb current. It's counterintuitive, but the stronger the current is, the longer the eddies and slack water sections are, at least in this part of the river. It goes pretty easy.

Looking In, Looking Out

I put in just down from the only bridge that crosses this stretch of the Housatonic. My plan for the day was to get in some distance by heading upriver to Lover's Leap, a narrow opening between hundred foot high cliffs. It is under 60F and overcast and while the forecast was for light wind shifting from SE to NE during the day, it felt windier than that at the put-in. 

Almost all of my trips are out-and-back day trips, and I am in the habit of paddling into the wind or against the current on my way out. There isn't any current in this stretch, but my plan, if the wind held, would require a long headwind return. So, today seemed more like a good day to go down to the Shephaug Dam instead. It's just a tad shorter. 

Looking in

As expected at this time of the year, I am alone except for a few bass boats. I follow the shore closely, the overhanging forest and steep valley sides making the water feel smaller than it actually is. And, once I'm in the water and about a 1/4 mile from the put-in, the wind dies down to something not worth mentioning - go figure. 

Looking out

The sun comes out as I pass the halfway point.

Northern Copperhead

It is a very pleasant trip. There's not much for birds, which is expected - this is water where big forest meets open water, so other than what I can see in back in the forest, it's a place for birds of prey, vultures and Ducks. I a single Osprey and one vulture. But, as I am paddling close to shore, I spot what looks like a snake skin in an low overhanging branch. No, it is the whole snake, no doubt sunning itself. Better yet, it is a Northern Copperhead, one of our two venomous snakes. It is quite inert, and I give it a gentle poke just to verify that it is alive. After rounding the point to head back, I spot a mink scurrying along the shoreline, obviously upset by my presence. After fifty yards, it tucks into a hiding hole in some boulders.

Neither the mink or Osprey cooperate, so the Copperhead is the only wildlife photo.

I finish up with about 11 miles of paddling, and maybe 10-1/2 miles of meditation.

The Lieutenant, Connecticut and Blackhall

I put in on the Lieutenant River, a favorite for almost as long as I have lived here. I remember coming here for the first time and finding far more than I ever expected. That is what a good river does, and it does it over and over.

It is a fine day with mostly sun, a temperature in the lower 60's, and just a little wind coming up from the sea. The tide has bottomed out, so I head downriver, planning ahead for the return.

Coming out of the Lieutenant I take the left hand turn at the fork. This is the inside channel, a sometimes meandering, sometimes narrow route through the salt marsh that lies on the east side of the Connecticut River. The big boats are out in the main channel, which is quite wide and open.

The Phragmites Corridor

The first 1/3 of a mile is a corridor through a phragmites marsh. Phragmites is a non-native invasive reed that isn't all that bad to look at, but unfortunately is poor habitat for marsh birds and mammals. That ends not too far upstream from Watch Rocks, a small island in a narrows between  Marvin Island and the mainland. This is where the action begins.

Below Watch Rocks

Aside from the full contingent of Osprey, which probably numbers at 40 pairs, I start spotting Yellow Legs and Willets, a few Mergansers, and lots of Gulls. There is a small flock of Green Wing Teal, which, as usual, flushes before I can get close enough to ID them... but I managed to get a telephoto shot before they got wise to me. With the low tide, I paddle all the way down to the Sound before turning up the Blackhall River. I can add about a half dozen Snowy Egrets and a few more than that of Great Egrets, and couple Oystercatchers. There are four Willets engaged in a mating or territorial beef, and they are making enough noise that one could easily imagine there to be two dozen birds. It is that time of the year for them, after all. The bird life today is quite diverse.

Green Wing Teal

I go up the Blackhall as far as the second bridge. I just don't feel like paddling against the tide on the way back.When I turn up the inner channel, I now have the current at my back. 

Oystercatcher

I take the Back River, which as I have said before, is not a river, but just the channel between Great and Marvin Islands. I suppose it may have gotten that name long ago, Back River meaning the back channel of the river. Many of the marshes here are also labeled, "meadow", which seems to be a carryover from British use of the word. I explore one of the side channels in the Back. It dead ends, but it does take me directly past a couple of Osprey nests. Then, it is out into the main river.

As usual, the main river is choppy, and surprisingly few critters show up on the shoreline - they know where the good stuff is. Then, I head up the Lieutenant and past my put-in as I decide to head up and see how the Eagle nest at Boulder Swamp is faring. The homeowners under the nest are doing an extensive remodel. This nest is always a bit hard to see through the trees, but I think that I see some motion up there, so hopefully the construction hasn't disturbed them.

With that, I head back.