Bushwacking the Marsh

S coaxed me into heading over to the Wheeler Marsh. There was no early morning rush with the high tide coming sometime after two in the afternoon.  It was also a very high tide backed up by near calm air, 70F temperature and mostly overcast sky.  

We put in at the refuge lot giving us more time in the marsh and missing out on the flood current that would be against us if we started upriver under the highway bridge.  There did not seem to be anyone else in the entire marsh.

We started by heading around Cat Island.  I do this once or twice a year and it might be S's first time doing this.  The increasingly narrow channel eventually became a wall of phragmites, although there was still one to two feet of water beneath us.  Once you're into it, that stuff is more difficult to back out of than going forward.  We grunted and pushed and poled through until reaching the upriver side of the island.  S told me later that it was fun.

After that, we headed to the Central Phragmites Patch.  There are few birds in sight but the patch always has possibilities, and it did not disappoint.  We flushed about a dozen Black Crowned Night Herons. Two were immature, and although they look a lot like their Yellow Crowned kin, I'm pretty sure they were also Black Crowns.  

Then, we wandered internal channels.  With the high water nothing was particularly recognizable, but my mistakes were easily corrected by short cutting through the well flooded spartina to somewhere I intended us to be.  

As we headed back across to finish our trip, we spotted a Martin, the largest of the Swallows. It was climbing, then diving, then carving a tight turn.  Clearly it was feeding, chasing airborne insects. Once we focused on the bird and paid close attention, we could spot the flying insects that it was chasing.  I'm pretty sure it was hunting Monarch Butterflies.  The Martin gave us a good show.

Osprey

Two Osprey are circling over Goose Bay.  Most of the Osprey have left for places south, but there are always a few that stay around right up until "real" winter arrives.  I don't, as far as an Osprey goes, see the reason for Osprey to leave so soon other than they have someplace else to be.  Perhaps some of them go because all the other Osprey are doing it.  The holdouts fascinate me.  They seem to be the rebels that do their own thinking.

It is partly sunny when I head out from Pilgrim's Landing.  The wind is something under 10mph coming downriver and the temperature is climbing up through the 60's.  The tide is coming in and the water is already fairly high.  No one else is around. 

This is the first canoeable day since Wednesday.  A Nor' Easter came through, which the news made out to be something like the end of the world.  As long as you don't live on a sandbar next to the ocean, it was not a big deal, just 3 days of 40+ mph wind and a ordinary amount of rain.  

Lord's Cove is a large marsh, partly fresh and partly brackish. There are two entrances, both of them on the downstream end. Route finding is not difficult with side route choices being either dead ends or loops that return to the main route.  The oddity is a big open pond called Coute's Hole, which is well in the marsh. It is near circular and 200 yards in diameter.  The main paddle route is in a channel that runs around the feature.  All the various theories for the "hole", one of which is as a meteor strike, have no evidence.  The hole is not particularly deep either, in case you were wondering.  One thing for sure, it defies common sense thinking about rivers and marshes. 

With the high water level, I refresh my memory taking some of the more obscure side channels that I haven't been through in quite a while.  I also head into Coute's Hole.  The hole has three entrances, one on the west and the others on the north, and all of them fairly close to others.  It is otherwise surrounded by a solid wall of cattails.  

I find about 50 Teal in the uppermost finger.  Otherwise, the already mentioned Osprey, a couple Kingfishers, a couple Great Blue Herons, in Goose Bay, some Great Egrets and a couple of Terns that I could not identify.  A small flock of Canada Geese flew over - I will never tire of their call. 

On the way out, I circled the shore of Goose Bay, just to make the trip last a bit longer.   

Doing the Wash

It is the time of the autumn winds. The forecast is for 10-15mph wind for the foreseeable future.  But, these fall season winds often have a mind of their own and just as often as strong gusty days might show up, an afternoon or morning might go calm.  Such is life.  It is about 70F and cloudy.

I put in at Indian Well on the reach I call Housatonic 2, which is above the Derby Dam and below the Stevenson Dam.  It is not my favorite place to paddle, having a busy road on one side and a bit too mny shoreline houses, but it is near home and being in a forested valley it can be a good paddle on a windy day.

I put in and the wind is coming in gusts up the river, close to being exactly the opposite direction of the forecast, which is a NE wind.  I cross the river to the east side and find it near calm.  Up river I go.

I flush a Great Blue Heron from the bank.  It does this twice. Herons often do this, short flights up and away from the oncoming canoe until, at some point, they circle around and return to near where they were first seen.  At the second stop, I avoid direct eye contact and slip by just 3 canoe lengths away without flushing the bird.  Add to that another Heron, a couple Kingfishers, an immature Bald Eagle and a dozen or so non-migratory Canada Geese.  Add to that two guys fishing from an aluminum boat and a rowing Shell. That's the traffic report.

I head up an hour, to just below the shelf, then turn and head back.  I feel washed.

Because I am Still Curious

It is overcast with a possibility of rain, but there might have to be more vertical motion in the cluds before anything noticeable comes of it.  There is a very light wind, so light that I don't care what direction it comes from, and it is humid and about 80F.  I ut in under the highway and head down to the marsh.  The tide is rising, but not quite halfway up, so it is a good time to bird watch.  It was a good time to feed my curiosity.

The milk bottle was pulled out just above the paddle blade

The upper entrance to the maze is still too shallow for passage.  I divert to the upper Nell's channel entry.  I find and recover a milk bottle from the cut bank just inside the entrance.  It is 3 paddle blades deep - about 22 inches.  It is a well embossed bottle from the City Dairy, wherever that is. Without dating it, the depth suggests about 1940, as my current calculations for soil accretion in the marsh are 50 years/foot.  I find another bottle about 20 yards in. It is a surface find that won't help in the dating process, but it is old.  It's a small bottle that was cork sealed, mold made, but the glass has an uneven blue tint and there are several large bubbles in the glass.  It will probably date to about 1900 because of the bubbles and blue tint.

As I head into the maze, I flush a Night Heron here and there - one at a time.  There are also a few Great Egrets, and a couple Snowys.  The water level is just perfect to get under the root ball log, and I should note that this is just above the minimum level for a passage through the maze.  At most tides, the log blocks passage and requires a short detour.  I jot down the time, 2:10 pm so that I can check the tide level for future trips (tide is at about 4.25 feet and flooding). 

The tide is flooding and at 4.25 feet.

After exiting the maze, I head up to Milford Point by an indirect route, and then into the center of the marsh. About 30 Egrets fly by, too far for me to be the cause, but they must have been in the marsh somewhere west of the Central Phragmites Patsh.  

I work my way over to the east side, and then head back out via the inner Sneak.  With the flood tide, it is an easy upriver paddle. 

Afternoon in the Big Marsh

Our plans changed due to A's schoolwork, but it all worked out as by afternoon the tide was near high and we could go most anywhere in the marsh.  As a plus, the winds of midday had started to subside, so we wouldn't get pushed around, yet there was still a gentle breeze to keep the no-see-ums at bay.  We put in at the refuge launch.  It is mid70's and overcast.

First stop was the Central Phragmites Patch, where we flushed five or six Black Crowned Night Herons. Then we headed up and into Beaver Brook.  The brook was unusually quiet and while we flushed a dozen or so Mallards, we didn't find any of the tree perchers such as Night Herons and Osprey.  But we did scare up a Green Heron on the way out.

Next was to see if I could find that hard-to-find inner channel that I miss more often than not.  We find it on the second or third try and only make one wrong turn as we head down.  But, no birds at all in there.  We check the time and A decides that we should head to Milford Point.  From there, we cross back to our put-in where we find three early season Goose hunters preparing to set out.  We have a little chat while taking out and loading the canoe.

The Most Perfect of Days

When I brought S her morning coffee, I asked her what she had planned for the day.
"Canoeing?"  she answered.  My clever ploy of bringing her coffee every morning for several decades has panned out.

There is no hurry with the high tide at about 2:30 in the afternoon.  The weather is about as good as one could hope for to be out in - 70F, sunny, and with a wind that is of no consequence.

We put in at the old stage crossing about halfway into the rising tide.  The water is plenty deep and there is no wading or dodging of rocks.  Autumn seems to be arriving noticed by the lower sun casting shadows out over the river.  I would gladly trade summer for extra autumn and spring.  

There are few birds in the forest section.  A few very boisterous Kingfishers try to make up for that.  The day is so beautiful that I ease up and try to draw it all in. 

Just above the Post Road, a Kingfisher makes two spectacular dives, catching a fish with the second one and flying off to a nearby tree. 

Below the post road is a small flock of Laughing Gulls, hanging out on one of the junk docks. 

Once in the lower marsh, we take the Long Cut, a snaky and narrow passage to Bailey Creek.  It is grown in with cord grass more than usual, but with the high water we push through easily.  We flush one Black Duck at the upper end of the Long Cut.  Later this fall, this will be a favorite hang out for Black Ducks. A pair of Osprey are perched in the dead tree island nearby.

We head down Bailey and start our return by heading through the Sneak, another "secret" passage, a reward for being curious.  We have some flood tide current with us for part of the upriver return.  At the highway bridge, crashing in the brush alerts us to a pair of deer - I think a doe and a yearling.  S gets a charge out of the close up view.

The rst of the return is spent thinking about what a wonderful day it has been. 

 

 

After the Rainstorm

It dumped rain this morning, I'd guess something just under 2 inches as it pretty much poured for a couple hours (it was actually closer to 4 inches).  By noon it was starting to ease up and I needed some outdoor air.

I put in under the highway.  It is lightly sprinkling, light enough to go sans rain gear.  The tide is near high, and it is a very high tide with the fixed portions of the boat ramp docks right at the water's level. As expected, the able bodied seamen have not ventured into the semi-briney.  I have the put-in to myself and there is not a moving boat anywhere in sight.

I head across and up through the channel between Peacock and Karting Islands.  It is easy paddling on smooth water.  The only other boat that I will see passes by somewhere near the Pecks Mill site.  There is a rush of water draining from the pond, which I assume was the old mill pond. 

It is a bird quiet day, as I expected coming this way. One Night Heron, one Great Blue Heron, a few Osprey, several Mallards and a couple Kingfishers. 

I turn back at the Wind Tunnel, just a bit over an hour out.  The tide is dropping and the current is starting to show.  It is a moderately speedy return with the current behind me. The sun peeks through on occasion.  It has become a very fine day for canoeing. When I take out, there are still no other boats or trailers at the put-in.   

The Inner Sanctum

I put in about a hour before a very high tide from the "under the highway" boat launch.  There is a peppy upriver flood current, but it is easy paddling down to the marsh.  Big currents that occur with very high tides create long sections of eddies and stagnant water along the east river bank. It is sunny and 75F with a fair wind out of the east.  There is a bit of motorboat traffic and some of them are using Nell's Channel with the water high enough that the motorboat drivers don't need to worry about the sand bars.  I'm planning on inner channel exploring, so they can have it.

I enter in the channel left of Nell's.  There is a nice inner channel that I found earlier in the year.  I couldn't find it on 3 out of 4 tries since then.  Today, after three attempts, I find the lower entrance, or at least I think I have.  I pay close attention as I head in, realizing why the channel is so hard to find.  There is nothing that stands out as a landmark. The channel is a series of narrows and wide spots, and at each wide spot, I have to look for the channel.  I flush only a few Mallards.

At the root ball.

I make it through and head over to the Nell's entrance to the Maze.   With the water level up, the paddling and route finding is easy.  I flush a dozen or more Night Herons, mostly Yellow Crowned or juveniles. At the root ball, there are two dozen Egrets, of which about a 1/3 are Greats, the others Snowy's.  There is a single and rather unconcerned Willet and a Great Blue Heron that flushes and heads east.About this time, I notice 2 kayakers behind me.  I don't know if they followed me in, or if they knew about the Maze beforehand, but I'd rather have this place to myself, and if they are exploring, they deserve to get to explore on their own, like I did.  So, I duck down a little and put the power on, and soon I am out of sight.

I cross the marsh to the east side.  I can see Egrets in the trees, and I would guess that some of the Night Herons are there as well.  I make my usual stop at the Central Phragmites Patch, where I see about 20 Black Crowned Night Herons.  From there, I head out and back upriver.

Some Rain, Some Silence

I put in at Pond Brook meeting 15 kayaks as I set the canoe in the water. It's 2 parties with the first 4 people too cool to wear PFDs.  The second party has a leader and all of them wear PFDs.  It's why I added my rescue throw bag (it has 50 feet of floating rescue rope) to my kit for the day. 

I head out of the cove and turn downriver towards the chinkapin oak.  If I made a hand drawn map of this area (something that I do as an artist), the chinkapins would be on it. Not because they are particularly rare (they are not), but because this is the first place where I learned of their existance.  On that day I noticed acorns on a tree that seemed to have the wrong leaf, but it was just an oak that I had never noticed.

Chinkapin Oak

I turn the point finding a boatfull of bros fishing, not a forward bill cap amongst them. Next up was an Osprey perched in a tree, and then one of many Great Blue Herons that I would see.  Then, I spotted a weasel running along the bank.  It disappeared.  Mink are more common sightings, but mink are a bit larger and the ones I have seen have always popped up out of their hiding spot to look at me, at least once.  Mink seem to be curious.

At times, the water is glassy smooth. 

It starts to sprinkle, which gradually turns to a light rain.  I pass 2 fishermen hiding under the trees and ask them how it is going.   "A little wet," is the reply.  I respond, "yeah, but it limits the boat traffic."

There are very few boats out here for any weekend, let alone a Labor Day weekend.  Clouds knock out at least half of the boaters, and a bit of rain knocks out most of the rest. 

The rain stops, not that it was that big of a deal, and I continue up to the cascades.  I get rained on again as I near.  I turn and head back.

I have the river to myself at times, and for longer than I would ever expect.  And, it is quiet - no overhead planes, no motorboats, and no leaf blowers.  I cease paddling and soak in the silence.

More boats show up while I am in the last mile, but it still isn't anything like I expected.  

It was a fine day. 

From the Feral Cat Park

I head upriver from the Feral Cat Park, starting out at a quarter to twelve. It is a fine partly cloudy day with a moderate wind coming down the river.  I am surprised to see so few motorboats on such a nice holiday weekend, but I suppose that brunch isn't over.  The Mai Tai Navy goes to battle stations at a crawl.

Three Osprey are wading on the sandbar east of Great Flat.  Maybe they are feeding on small fingerlings. Every so often, I spot a Great Blue Heron or Great Egret. 

A few boats show up by the time I get to No Name Island. I go a little way into the shallow east channel.  That shallowness might be the reason this island lacks a name.  There is an early Goose hunter up about halfway.  He's collecting his decoys, obviously calling it a day.  Early Goose hunting is designed to get the nonmigratory Canada Geese.  I'm told they don't respond much to decoys, so it is mostly luck to have them show up.  However, hunters can take a lot of Geese during the early season.

I head back, crossing the river to paddle near the Dragonfly factory.  A few more boats go by, but for the last mile and a half I have the river to myself.  It has turned out to be a fine trip.

M is for Maze

I rounded up my friend, M, for a second low tide tour in the Wheeler Marsh. M is one of my most frequent canoe partners and she has been away most of the summer.  

We get down to the state ramp for our start.  At low tide there are not a whole lot of choices for start points as most of the rougher put-ins are mud slogs just to reach water.  Mud slogs are especially fun with a canoe on your shoulders. It is a nice sunny day, although the wind has far exceeded the weather prediction.  But, the wind at the river is not as strong as it was at the house.  We will have a headwind on the return, but it will be doable.

We get to the marsh about an hour after low tide. It is clear that today's low tide is not at all as low as it was during yesterdays trip.  In fact, it looks like there is another 8 or 10 inches of water.  The narrow mud flats below most of the cut banks are submerged.  The Least Sandpipers are out in force, but the Yellow Legs are nowhere to be seen.  We head down Nell's Channel and turn into the maze.  Yesterday I coasted in on little more than 6-8 inches of water, until bottoming out.  Today, we passed yesterdays turning back point and made it to the tight turns near the root ball, although we were low enough that I couldn't see the roots from the canoe... I just recognized the series of sharp turns in the channel.  We flushed some Great Egrets, young Yellow Crowned Night Herons, one mature Black Crowned Night Heron, several Mallards, and what might have been a dozen Black Ducks, and a lot of Sandpipers.  A good day for birds, but not like yesterday.  Anyway, we ran out of water at the root ball, and it would be at least an hour before we would be able to continue, so we turned and headed back out.

Hugging the river right bank, the wind wasn't bad.  Cut over and took the side exit and then headed back up river. 

Low Tide

I set out at low tide and head down to the marsh.  This time of year is particularly good bird watching with recently fledged locals and a variety of migrators.  It is about 75F, almost overcast, with a stiff but doable wind out of the SW.  

Low tide is especially peaceful in the marsh. The choice of routes is very limited, but the low water and exposed mudflats discourage most people from visiting.  All that exposed mud brings out a different bird crew than what one sees at high tide.  A dozen Yellow Legs are at the top of Nell's Channel, and just about anywhere that there is a foot of exposed mud, there seems to be some Least Sandpipers.  There's probably some other look-alike Sandpipers, but that has to be left to the Sandpiper freaks. 

Greater Yellow Legs

 I make my way down the channel and then through one of the side channels that heads toward Milford Point.  A lot of this is in six inches of water.  Four Teal overfly me.  I did not expect them.

Least Sandpiper

I turn around and head back towards Nell's and I decide to see just how far into the island I can get at low tide.  It would be a good spot to spy a Rail, but that's not going to happen.   With the tide rising, I can drift into the island.  There are more Yellow Legs, Sandpipers, plus a Yellow Crowned Night Heron, several Snowy Egrets and some Mallards.  Just about where I run out of water, maybe a 1/4 mile in, I turn a bend and find 3 Snowy Egrets and a Glossy Ibis.  Since I drifted in rather silently, I get to sit and watch.

Glossy Ibis and Snowy Egret

That is the limit for low tide in the island, so I spin and head out.  I flush 4 Teal, possibly the same that overflew me, in Nell's Channel.  The upper east side entrance to the channel has just barely enough water to make the passage.  Then, I head back upriver.

Dam to Dam

It is a nice overcast day with light wind and mid 70 temperatures. I head inland to avoid what would be low tide paddling in the coastal marshes.  

I put in at Indian Well State Park.  The sign at the put in says that there is a dam 3 miles downstream.  I only pay attention to the sign because the distance to the dam is exactly half that, and I am curious how many years will pass until the sign is corrected.

I head down to the dam. There seems to be only one other boat on the river, a water ski boat that is running a very skillful water skier through a marked slalom course.  I don't mind at all being around that type of boater as I can predict with good certainty where and what they will be doing.  It is a very calm paddle down to the dam.

I turn and head upriver.  The river isn't glassy smooth, but it is close.  My canoe moves along quite quickly in these conditions.  I pass several Great Blue Herons, a Kingfisher, some Mallards, a couple Cormorants and an Osprey.  That's not much for  five miles of river, but reservoirs seem to be that way - nice water storage, but lacking in the habitat department.

Getting over the Shelf is easy today.  The Shelf is a shallow that runs bank to bank and at the wrong water level, either too high or too low, the current is too fast for me bust.  Today, I might very well have coasted over it just on the momentum of the canoe. 

Once in view of the Stevenson Dam, there is a short stretch of whitewater, which is usually class I.  A big storm a few years ago rearranged parts of this stretch when Eight Mile Brook turned into a torrent.  I used to be able to paddle up through it when the water level was normal, but since the storm I haven't gotten through.  Today, the water is about as good as it gets and I eddy hop almost up to Eight Mile Brook.  There is some fast water here without the strategic eddies, but the real problem are a large number of badly spaced boulders hiding just below the surface.  It's exactly the kind of place where I might hang up the canoe if I stall out in the current and have to turn around.  Anyway, it is a good excuse to turn and head back.  

It has been a fine day, very peaceful and good for the soul. I spot a Green Heron on the return.  It flies ahead and disappears on the river right bank.

Up to Dividend Brook

I set out from Cromwell, heading up the Connecticut River.  It's a moderately big river in this stretch - 800 to 1000 feet wide.  It runs fast during high water, but most of the time it is calm and slow moving. The horizon is the tops of 60 foot hardwood trees growing along the bank.  I can see higher ground upriver where a glacial dam from the ice age formed.  Glacial Lake Hitchcock was behind that dam and it was big enough and deep enough that it depressed the ground beneath it.  The old shoreline actually runs at an angle descending as it goes upriver.  

It is calm, maybe 75F and mostly sunny.   

I cross over and follow the west side of Gildersleeve Island, a 3/4 mile long crescent shaped land in one of the bends of the Connecticut.  The island is forested and probably tops out at about 8 or 10 feet above the current river level, which means it is pretty much awash during high water events. 

From the top of the island I cross back to river-right. The purpose of the trip is to check on the beaver dam in Dividend Brook, and if I follow the river-right shore, I should run into it.  I pass a floating 8-point Deer carcass.  A ways on, I spot a Vulture and a Crow in a shoreline tree.  A little out of place, I find the reason about 50 yards away - a deer carcass that has reached the perfect state of decomposition for Vulture dinner.  

As it happens, Dividend Brook is the first inlet on that side of the river.  Unfortunately, it is shallow today.  I get in just far enough to know that I am in the right place, but the mud slog that is required to get up to the dam is not worth it.  I can come back when there is another 8 or 10 inches of water.  

I cross the river again and head back, following the other side of Gildersleeve Island.  There is a fair amount of willow growing at the water's edge, and the number of beaver peel sticks on the shore show that they are being well harvested.  Thin willow saplings are easy food for beaver, and the cut saplings send up new shoots after being cut.

And the bird report - half dozen Great Egrets, half Dozen Great Blue Herons, a couple Osprey, one Hawk, some Mallards.

East River

It has been awhile since I've been in the East River, a nearby and excellent river for a daytrip. I put in at Foote's Bridge.  The tide has been coming up for about an hour, and although there is 4 miles of lag (the tide chart is for the mouth of the river), the water is low, but just deep enough that I do not have to step out or wade at any of the usual shallows.  There is a big tide coefficient for the day - ratio of low to high tide levels, so it must have been almost bone dry here 2 hours ago.  It is a good day, mostly sunny going to clear sky, low humidity, and temperature in the mid 70's.  The prediction is for the light morning wind to ease up, but this seems doubtful.

I make it down and past the Gravel Flats without having to step out of the canoe.  There is a fairly strong wind, perhaps 10-15 mph.  It's tolerable in the forest section, but it could be a lot windier in the open marsh below Clapboard Hill Road.  I ease up and mull it over just above that road.  

Continuing down, the wind is lighter in the open marsh.  It's not the first time I've seen this happen.  There aren't any high hills near the forest, but for some reason wind is often funneled into the forest section of the river.  I find a flock of Yellow Legs at the first bend below the Clapboard Hill bridge.  There are a few Osprey, one Hawk soaring up high, and a solitary Yellow Crowned Night Heron just below the Big Bends.  Below the Post Road, a large flock of Laughing Gulls are resting on the dilapidated floating docks of the shithead-marina-that-never-opened-for-business (Madison really needs to clean that crap up).  

Below the railroad bridge, I duck into alternate Sneak as a orange plastic kayak comes my way.  No one is going to follow me very far into that increasingly narrow channel. I work through and return using the Sneak, deciding not to extend my wind wrestling anymore than necessary, and use the extra time to go up above my put-in.

The wind increases again as soo as I enter the forest section.  Go figure.  I continue on above my start point.  There's about a half mile of paddling in this upper section before the river gets shallow, which is also where frequent log hopping is required.  I turn back a little before that, just not feeling like pusing through the summer brush.  I kayaker appears behind me as I head back.  He's exploring, so I tell him some of what I know, and he continues.  I head out.   

Snowy Egret Day

I set out early in the afternoon, perhaps a short hour after high tide. But, today is a higher than average high tide, so I have plenty of time to work my way through the marsh.  I start at the refuge launch, which is right in the marsh. This way, I avoid the Seadoo moron fest that occurs on Friday afternoons.  

It is about 80F with a pleasant light wind from the SW.  Although there was a predicted chance of afternoon thunderstorms, the threat has gone around us, which is not unusual.  

Crossing the bottom of the marsh is typically bird-quiet at high tide.  I flush a Night Heron here and there.  Then I take the side channel to Nell's Channel upriver.  This side channel runs at a diagonal.  It is almost as wide as Nell's, but leads (coming down river) into the shallower internal marsh.  

After one misstep, I get into the maze. I start flushing NIght Herons and Mallards every 50 yards or so. When I get to the rootball, one of the only landmarks inside Nell's Island, a bunch of Egrets and Night Herons flush.  It might be 2 dozen birds total.  I make my way down and back into Nell;s Channel and turn upriver.

Nell's Channel is usually kind of quiet, but it seems that the Snowy Egrets are beginning to flock, and at one of the side inlets, I pass 3 dozen Snowy Egrets all collected within about 50 yards of shoreline.

I head to the top of the marsh, then down the side sneak that leads to the Central Phragmites Patch, then into the main outside channel. Egrets and Night Herons are finally beginning to perch in the trees on Cat Island.   

I head down the outer channel to my launch point.  

The Shephaug

I put in on Pond Brook for a trip up to the cascades at the head of the reservoir.  It is a quiet day, even the leaf blowers have taken a break.  It is in the 70's, with a very light wind and a partly sunny sky.  

I hug the shore as usual.  Mostly, this is because most of the interesting stuff happens where ecological patches meet. Here, one patch is the river and the other is the forested hillsides.  The birds here are on the shoreline as with the Great Blue Herons, or perched in the trees overhanging the river as in the Osprey, or soaring along the hillside with a clear view of the river... the Bald Eagles. The family of Mallards that I pass are dabbling in the weeds that grow in the shallows.   

This is one of the finer "lake" paddles in the area.  Although it is a river, the dam downstream makes it appear as a lake.  There are scattered houses, but most are high up on the hillside and much of the land along the lake is forest preserve - either state forest or Nature Conservancy or something of the sort.

I spot 2 immature Bald Eagles and one mature that flushes while I am staring at a Great Blue Heron.  I'll end up counting several Great Blue Herons and maybe 4 Osprey. The Osprey were actively fishing. 

I pass a few fishing boats along the way, almost all of them drifting motors off near the shallows where they might find a bass.

I pause briefly at the cascades before heading back out. 

Birdwatch Part 2

 It is another fine day with sun and a light SE wind coming up the river, and the temperature will stay in the 70's.  S joins me.  We are in no hurry with the tide peaking about half past ten.

We set out for a second trip into the Wheeler, just because the bird watching is currently so good. The trip down to the marsh is on slack water.  A barge heads out of the upper entrance as we arrive.  It is rebuilding a dock that the winter ice pushed over.  We take a clockwise route, heading into the inner channel that leads to the Central Phragmites Patch.  Flush a few Great Egrets and Yellow Crowned Night Herons as we go.  

We quietly approach the phragmites patch.  Yesterday, there were a good many Night Herons, but they were on the far side of the patch and flushed some distance from us.  Then, 2 Black Crowned Night Herons, another and another.  A total of 8 mature Black Crowns flush from the patch.

We back out and head down the east side.  As with yesterday, no birds perching in the the trees.  Then we head across the bottom of the marsh, staying within the spartina islands as the wind is rising.  With the tide still high, the route across the marsh is birdless.  

I make a couple wrong turns, the high tide changing the remembered view, but we get to Nell's Channel with little time lost.  Then, we head into the Maze.  We start flushing birds - Yellow Crowned Night Herons, Great Egrets and a good number of Snowy Egrets, and one Great Blue Heron.  We are talking and I miss a turn.  I haven't been misplaced in the Maze for quite some time.  It takes three attempts before I get us back on track.  Fortunately, the root ball with the failed Osprey nest can be seen, if one knows where to look.  It is the only landmark worth a shit for finding the clear route through.  We miss one more turn, then back on track through the narrow exit, I miss the last turn and take the longer exit into Nell's Channel.  There is something reassuring knowing that after dozens of trips through the maze, I can still misplace myself.  

With that, we head up the river, current against us, but a growing breeze behind. 

Paddling with a Friend

It is a fine day with plenty of sun, temperatures in the 70's and a light wind coming up the river.  I round up my friend, A, and we set out from under the highway for a tour of the marsh.  A likes to bird watch and is familiar with the marsh, but mostly from land.  I give a A a quick paddling lesson, and then we set out. The tide is near high and will start falling during the trip.

By the time we pass the drawbridge, A has the paddling down pretty good.  

We enter Nell's Island through the upper channel and in short order, begin flushing birds.  It is a lot of Night Herons, Great Egrets and Mallards, but we also flush a few Great Blue Herons that were standing close to each other.  All the way through the maze we have birds either flushing or flying past.

Coming out of the maze, we head up to Milford Point.  But, with the tide high, many of the birds that might be seen here in lower water are not around.  It is a quiet leg across to the east shore.  

Hoping to find Night Herons perched in the east side trees, we get blanked.  It happens.  So, I turn us into the almost invisible gap that leads towards the Central Phragmites Patch.  I warn A that this is a particularly good spot to find Black Crowned Night Herons, probably because of a small patch of slightly higher ground where the phragmites grow.  We do flush about 20 Night Herons, but they rise up from the far side of the patch. As we turn back, I spot a Harrier, which obliges us by staying nearby until we get out into the open where A can eyeball the bird with the binoculars.  It's a good sighting.  Harriers are common, but mostly when the Osprey are not nesting.  My guess is that Osprey eggs and young are prey for Harriers, so the Osprey won't tolerate their presence. 

With that, it is time to head back up river.  It has been a very good birding trip and the only thing left is to come back at lower tide to show A how different it can be. 

 

Breaking the Rules

I am occupied during the morning and set out early in the afternoon.  Normally, a late start means paddling with the motorboat types, but it is overcast and therefore, forbidden for motorboat drivers to leave shore.  I head down to the marsh on very calm air, seeing only one other boat in that mile of river.

Short Billed Dowitcher

It is low tide, or thereabouts.  I did not check the tide table close enough to exactly remember the timing.  I head into the marsh, paddling east through the upper channel.  Great Egrets, a couple Osprey, and a couple Short Billed Dowitchers guard the entrance along with numerous Yellow Legs.

 Halfway down the east side of the marsh is shallowest point, which is not passable at most low tides.  Not remembering the tide timing, I check for the current by pausing to look at any grass growing in the water.  At this location, if the current is flowing in my direction, the marsh is filling.  I keep moving and finally pass over the shallowest section, where I also pick up a light current in my direction.  All good, as long as I stick to the correct channel, I can complete the circle.  

There has been a good number of Yellow Crowned Night Herons, which is no surprise at this time of the year. Coming across the marsh, I find a couple dozen Laughing Gulls feeding on a school of small fish in the shallows.  I spy a Clapper Rail as it sneaks back into the spartina, and there is a flock of a dozen Snowy Egrets back up in one of the side channels.  The gnats are particularly annoying in this section, a result of warm calm air.

I head back via Nell's Channel finding a second Clapper Rail on the exposed mud flats up one of the side channels.