As It Is, By Chance

At a time when the entire world can be viewed by satellite images at the touch of a digital finger, anywhere my canoe can travel appears the way it is because of some policy.  It might be a conservation policy, or economic, or political, but if anything is left untouched by man, it is either by plan or the shear expense that would be involved.

The East River lies in my sweet spot of canoeing rivers.  It is usually 60 to 75 feet wide with a current that is light enough that the river can be paddled in both directions at any time. The navigable section is only 4-1/2 miles long, but it passes through forest, freshwater marsh, and salt marsh, and a low railroad bridge limits most of the river to small craft.  The salt marsh section has 2 small tributaries and a number of dead ends and short cuts to explore. 

Marsh Wren

Marsh Wren nest

The river has escaped the industrialization that most rivers in this region have seen.  While there is a broken sawmill dam on a trickle of creek that enters the river, and some remains of what look like farmer's tidal barriers or bridges, alterations to the river were minimal until the advent of steam power.  Damming the river would have been problematic as there is a wide marsh on either or both sides of the river from where I put in at Foote Bridge, all the way to the sea, and by the time machinery to perform the task was available, damming the East River as a power supply would've been economically pointless.  In fact, my start point was the river crossing until bridges were built downstream as it is the lowest point where one can step into and out of the river on firm ground.  Even at high water, this point could be forded by a horse and wagon.

It is overcast and just under 50F when I set out.  There is a light wind that should be out of the southeast, but as usual, it comes out of a somewhat opposite direction while I am in the forest section.  The tide has just passed high and there is almost no current for the next 45 minutes or so.  It is quiet and there is no one else on the water.  The bird life is into the summer season - Osprey, Willets, Snowy and Great Egrets, and Sandpipers.  The male Marsh Wrens are just starting to build nests. I spot one just below the Clapboard Hill Bridge.  A second nest looks to be in construction just a couple feet away.  Male Marsh Wrens will build 6-15 nests in an effort to attract a mate.  The female will turn one into a usable nest while the others remain as potential decoys to predators.

Foote Bridge - the upper put-in

Below the railroad bridge, I take the Long-cut over to Bailey Creek, and then follow the creek to where it joins the East River.  From there, I return. I have a current to paddle against, but I also have the wind at my back. I've not seen anyone else on the water.