Local Waters

I put in under the highway bridge on the big river, one of my usual spots for a quick trip near the house.  It is a fine day with a half cloud sky, a light breeze and ideal summer temperature.  The tide will be rising for about one more hour.

I head up and across the river heading into the channels between the four nearby marsh islands.  A couple of  Great Egrets circle and scold me from over Carting Island while a Green Heron drops in and poses for me on a deadfall in mid-channel.

I continue up from the islands following the west shore.  I spot a few Osprey, one Bald Eagle, and every so often, a Great Blue Heron.  And, not particularly aiming to get any place, I wander a bit picking some trash.

I stop and stretch my legs on the sandy beach at the dragonfly factory, and continue on to just short of Wooster Island.  From there, I turn back following the east shore.  There is a CH-53 at the dragonfly factory.  It is a very big helicopter.  A little further south, I spot an Osprey tiltrotor coming upriver in hover mode.  I've never seen one flying before.  Considering modern helicopter technology, it looks like a big target.

Salmon River with A

 A long time friend joined me today.  I've know A since she was 6 years old, and about a year ago found out that she was working on a PhD at a nearby university.  Busy as she has been, summer is here, tests are completed, and it was time to go see some more of Connecticut.

We headed out to the Salmon River.  With today's excellent weather, I knew that all the main rivers would be in control of the Mai Tai Navy.  The shallow cove at the mouth of the Salmon prevents anything larger than a bass boat from entering.  Somewhat unexpectedly, the launch area was filling up with vehicles, but of course, most of those were from motorboats that wouldn't come into the cove.  I'm a bit more used to paddling here on weekdays when I am likely to be the only one around.

A had never canoed before, so as we got going I gave her a quick lesson in basic paddling.  She picked it up right away and I traded out her heavy factory paddle for one of my hand-mades.

We paddled the edge of the cedar swamp that divides the cove from the main river.  There are a couple of large beaver lodges in here and I wanted to show A the dam that they had built, which is unique as it holds back water only after unusually high water events.  Today the water level on the other side of the dam was about 8 inches higher than where we sat.  A Green Heron popped up and flew deeper into the swamp.

We headed up the cove, crossed over to the far side and paddled into the Moodus River.  I point out the grape vines as we go and we pass over two barely submerged beaver dams.  The log jam is still in place, so we head back out.

Then, we cross the top of the cove and head up the Salmon River proper.  There's a few Osprey working the area, but otherwise not too many animals.  There are a lot of kayaks out today, so the wildlife, while still here, has moved back into the recesses until the party ends.

Our turn-around point is the Leesville dam.  There's not much water come over the dam and little current below.  From there we head back down taking a look up into Pine Brook. I'm wondering if the state took out some of the wild rice in here. It seems that there should be more growing by this time of year.

We get a stiff head wind when we get back to the cove.  But, the cooling on a 90 degree day is better than the extra work to paddle against it.

Menunketesuck and Chapman's Mill Pond

S wanted to go canoeing today, so I loaded up the two seater and we headed out.  She hadn't been out in a long while, so it was pretty much my choice and I opted for a place that I hadn't been to before.

We put in on Chapman's Mill Pond.  The pond is part of the Menunketesuck River, and we've paddled the salt marsh portion before.  The pond is immediately upstream of that area and unfortunately separated by a eight foot tall dam with no portage.  If it was a long canoe trip, you'd actually bust a portage through the trees and brush, but for a day trip, it's not worth it as well as not raising the ire of the state conservation department. 

Chapman's Mill Pond

Right away, I comment on how beautiful the pond is.  Although narrow and less than a mile long, it is surrounded by forest and set down in a shallow valley.  Plus, we are the only ones out.  We spot a couple Osprey and a few Egrets, lots of Swallows and some Redwing Blackbirds and a brood of Wood Ducks. We explore a couple of nooks and when we get to the upper end, try to push up the river.  However, the entering river is barely enough for the canoe without the overhanging tree branches and brush.  So, back we go. With such a short trip, we opted for the 1/3 mile motor portage down to the salt marsh section. In fact, without doing both sections, the pond isn't big enough to be worth the drive.

The state is in the process of rebuilding the  Menunketesuck launch (which will have a new name that has nothing to do with where it is, of course).  There used to be room for 2-3 cars, now there are 10 parking spots, garbage cans and pads for picnic tables or some such things.  We head out on a falling tide.

This would be a favorite spot to visit, if it was a bit larger.  But, it is good for a couple hours.  The area is a high spartina marsh, running narrow through a forest and widening out to a half mile at the bottom.  There are several Opsrey near the start, and several more near the lower end.  We spot a mature Bald Eagle half way down and all along a good number of Great and Snowy Egrets.  This has been a good spot to find Little Blue Herons, but none today.

On the way out, just in the last bend or two, we spot a  Glossy Ibis wheeling around and then flying overhead past us, first of the year for either of us.

 

Walls and Eagles

I set out from Pond Brook.  The weather was a southeast wind of no more than 10mph and a partly sunny sky with billowy clouds that held no threat of rain.

After getting to the main river, I noticed one of those stone walls that follows the elevation contours not far back from the water. When I first saw one of these, I assumed that it had been built to keep animals out of the river. After reading some, I found that the stone walls dated, for the most part, to the early 1800's. There was a merino sheep "boom" at that time and much of the suitable forests in the area had been clear cut for pasture.  Then, one finds out that the current shoreline dates to 1955, this being a reservoir with the original channel some 50 ft down and about a hundred yards to the east.  So, the wall paralleling the shoreline is somewhat a coincidence. I thought about this as I paddled and a bit of common sense arose.  I could be wrong, but given the choice, I would prefer to build these stone walls on the steep valley sides by tumbling and rolling rocks downhill out of the pasture to the location of the wall.  So, there might be a certain logic to building walls across the slope.  Of course, there are walls heading in all directions. One of the best ways to see this is to fly overhead on a sunny winter day when the leaves are down.  The walls stand out sharply and can be seen to form just about every possible polygonal shape.

After turning the point and heading up the Shephaug a mile or so, I made a wind check.  I had a tailwind here on the west side, so I crossed over to the east side of the river and confirmed that there was a wind shadow.  If the wind should increase, returning along the east shore will be much easier.  Then I paddled back to the "better" side of the river.

I got a "proud sighting" at a somewhat expected spot.  A good quarter mile off and some 300 feet up, I noted a white spot near a dead tree in the forest. That white was just not quite the white I'd expect in a forest. Using the zoom on my camera, I found it to be the head of a Bald Eagle.  I called it a "proud sighting" because I doubt many people would have noticed it.  In fact, I think I would have had a very hard time getting someone with me to see what I was pointing to. I'm sure there is a nest nearby, but I've never seen it.

I continue up to the cascades with little to add other than it is an exceptional day, and no one else is around. Near the cascades I retrieve three fish hooks with either bobbers or lures attached.  I turn back from the cascades.  

There was a beaver lodge and a lot of beaver gnawed trees a quarter mile below the cascades.  That activity seemed to drop off last year.  I paddled up a short inlet to and confirmed that the lodge had collapsed.

About a half mile above the point where the Housatonic and Shephaug meet, I clearly heard a few Bald Eagles calling with that hoarse whistle. It was a familiar sound that I had noted not long ago on the Lieutenant River where I observed feeding time for a pair of Eaglets.  No doubt that the Eagle nest is back in the forest here.

Essex to Selden

After a few days of high gusting winds, it was nice to wake up to a calm day.

I headed out to the lower end of the Connecticut River.  There are numerous good places to set out from in this area, it all just depends on what you want to see.  Today, I put in on the North Cove in the town of Essex.  I just felt like adding something a little historic to the trip.  The North Cove once had several shipyards in it building smaller ocean going vessels, as the mouth of the Connecticut River is fairly shallow. During the War of 1812, the British sent a small boat raid up the river and burned 27 ships. I cut across the cove and out into the main river through a small gap in long bar that separates the cove from the river. 

I follow the west shore upriver. Less than half a mile up is the Ely Ferry site.  The ferry dates to the 17th century and, if I remember correct, ran into the early 1900's.  The old landing on the far side is a good start point, but on this side it is only noted by a large swath of large submerged rocks that are otherwise totally out of place.  About this time I pass a young woman paddling a canoe full of gear.  She started in Farmington and is heading down and along the coast to Stratford.  With her are two more women on paddleboards....long trip for paddleboarding, uff da. 

I follow the shore closely, dodging the main current and taking advantage of eddies.  Osprey are numerous and a I spot an immature Bald Eagle, then a mature Eagle.  Being close to shore adds the possibility of animal sightings, and about the time I'm thinking that, I spot a weasel observing me.

Selden Channel

At Chester, I pass Eustasia Island and cross the river to Selden Island and follow that up and into the top end of the Selden Channel.  The channel is as calm and peaceful as I've ever seen it.  Great Blue Herons are owning the banks while Opsrey are keeping the sky.  

I cross the river again when I get back down to Ely's Ferry.  Here I notice that there is a large run of menhaden.  The fish travel in big schools, usually right under the surface and so it is easy to spot where the are as the water surface is choppy where they are.  In addition, they are surfacing and jumping out of the water quite often.  I take this to hint at predators like the striped bass.  Anyway, the Osprey and Herons are feeding well.

Farther Up Mill Brook

It's a fine day, sunny with the morning still cool.  I put in on a back channel near the mouth of the Connecticut River.  The tides are perfect for heading up into any of the smaller tributaries - a push from the last of the flood will become a return push from the beginning of the ebb.  Plus, the higher ends of the any of these creek sized rivers will be well flooded.

I head up towards the Lieutenant River.  But first, there is a mile or so of paddling along Great Island.  This is Osprey country and supposedly, one can see thirty Osprey nests from the put-in...if you can't see that many, have no doubt that there are.  Nearing the Watch Islands, I can see eight Osprey, five Great Egrets, a Willet, and a dozen Cormorants, without turning my head.

Red Throated Loon with damaged wing

I spot something that looks like a Loon, which would be two months out of place.  But, it is one of those Cormorants with the light colored breast.  At Watch Island, I spot something else that looks like a Loon, a lot more like a Loon.  It's a Read Throated Loon, and it is definitely two months out of place.  They migrate  through in the spring on their way to very far north.  I paddle closer to see if it might have a fishing lure stuck in it.  When it decides to move away, a flap of the wings show the problem.  It has lost the outer third of its right wing.  Fortunately, it looks fit and energetic and as the injury has to be about 2 months old, it has probably healed.  It won't be breeding and nesting, or migrating, but if a Loon has to be stuck someplace, this is about as good as it gets.  

Willet

I head up the Lieutenant - more Osprey, more Egrets.  Then, through the Boulder Swamp, which doesn't resemble the name right now, the tide covering the dozens of boulders that like to reach out and nudge the daydreaming paddler.   I head up into Mill Brook. I look for, but can't locate the Eagle nest that I'm familiar with.

Mill Brook

The neighbors seem to have dealt with the small beaver population.  No fresh signs at all. Then, under a small bridge, and one easy step over on a well-known deadfall, and paddle up to a brushy deadfall that has blocked me in the past.  This time, I squeeze easily through the branches and enter new-to-me river.  It is a combination of short paddles and short wades, nothing much to complain about.  I finally get up to a brook side house, which is a good landmark.  Turns out that I am just at the bottom of the lower millpond.  When I have a full day, I'll come back.  The map looks like there's a good mile or more of paddling on and above the millpond. (Later - The house is built on the site of the Bradbury Mill.  River-left on this section of the brook and millpond are forest preserve land)

I wade/paddle back to Boulder Swamp.  I locate the Eagle nest, mostly because my arrival coincides with feeding time and I can her the Eaglets squealing.  It looks like there are two Eaglets with a mature that is shredding the kill.  After a few minutes of watching, I head out.  I pick up a good ebb current as I leave the Lieutenant, and it is an easy cruise back to the put-in.

Boy Scout Day

It's a fine day with a watercolor wash of clouds above.  It is a fine visual metaphor for my canoe trips.  I always feel washed afterward, the edges softened and the complexities melting into one.

Three Snowy's and a Great

I ride the ebb current down to the top of the marsh, which seems to be Egretville today.  Seven Great Egrets and twenty feet further, seven Snowy Egrets.  Three Cormorants, a few Mallards and a pair of distant Osprey finish the momentary count.

I down through one of the internal channels, the tide still being high enough for such tomfoolery.  I'm surprised to find "that" Swan still on the nest.  It seems late for the hatching, and if it is going to happen, it can't be too many days away. I pass a Yellow Crowned Night Heron, and then aim for the tip of Milford Point, as the marsh is well flooded between here and there.  There are no less than a dozen Great Egrets in sight, as they stand out against the lush green spartina, which is only grown - 15 inches at most right now.

That Swan Nest

Two Osprey at the point, but the migratory shore birds of the two weeks ago are gone, at least until fall.  I head counter-clockwise around an out, picking a few items of floating trash as I go.

Then, I head back upriver against a stiff ebb current.  This is the time to hug the shore and take advantage of eddies and slower water.  Nearing the first docks of the shoreline houses, I spot two women on small sit-on boats. They are wearing their PFD's...something I always check for when I get near people.  One flips.  They're out at the edge of the main current, which is moving at 3-4 knots. She's floating, but having a minor struggle.  She gets on her board, but flips again when she runs into the dock raft.  She crawls onto her board-thing as I get there.  Her paddle is missing, I suspect it is under one of the floating dock rafts as it should have come near me.  I tow her over to the shore so she can catch her breath, then I call her friend over, and out of the stiff current.  The paddle finds its way into the open and I go retrieve it.  My new friends are fine, but clearly surprised by the current.  I give them a brief lesson in paddling upriver (and checking tide charts)...hug the shoreline, rest when you get into an eddy, and stay away from the upstream side of the dock floats.  We chat and I assess the skill level, and decide to escort them, without really telling them.  I turn it into a lesson in reading water, pointing out the tell-tales that I'm looking at to spot eddies and faster water.  We talk about birds and I tell them of a couple other good spots to put their boats in.  It all works out.