River views

Heading downstream

On this chilly night at Riverview Circle, I'd like to retrieve memories of a mellow ride on the Medomak in September 2009. Daughter Rachel was bow paddler and photographer. The first shot shows me in the stern, but lazily drifting through sea grass barely covered by the advancing tide. Waldoboro Village is retreating into the distance. It's likely the tide was almost at its height.

179 Friendship St., from the river

Here, we pass my house and barn. In the way of frugal Yankees, the front and sides of the house and barn were elegantly sided and painted, while the rear -- invisible from the street -- is plain to the point of severity. Did we swim in the river? Yes, following the lead of Tom the Intrepid. Not only is the bank choked with scrubby undergrowth and the edge marshy, but one must wade through or float over yards of tickly-sharp sea grass before reaching clear water. The estuary water is brackish.  However, swimming there is fun. I loved the extra boost from salt water flotation and the feeling of immersion in another world, so close to home.

Eagle landing

Cormorants on a dock

On this trip, we spotted an eagle, coming in for a landing in the evergreens. Then we saw a gulp* of cormorants drying off on one of the few docks allowed on this section of the river. Soon, the birds will return to diving for supper. There are almost no signs of human activity on the upper reaches of the tidal Medomak south of the village of Waldoboro.

The furthest extent of our trip.
The village has disappeared and
we appear to be alone in the wilderness.

Looking back on a fulfilling trip. 
The old button factory is across the river
from the town landing where we
started and ended our afternoon.

 
*http://www.npwrc.usgs.gov/about/faqs/animals/names.htm

Ricky and the River

Sudbury River, photo by local river god, Roy Barnacle.

Weeks ago, my husband sold his canoe, preparatory to our planned move. Purchasers were two young boys from the neighborhood. They stopped in to enquire, ran shuttle negotiations back and forth between Roy and their Dad, and eventually showed up with Dad and cash and carried the boat away. Not long after, we saw the boys down at the river's edge, set up for fishing. Roy tromped through the woods to see them with their new canoe, only to find that the canoe had vanished. They hadn't realized it needed to be tied. Roy gave them all the advice he could, then and later; but we knew that unless their Dad got on the stick quickly it seemed almost hopeless that the children would ever see their boat again. We were uncomfortable about this outcome. We knew that here the Sudbury River enters a great wetland reserve and meanders for miles through lonesome byways before emptying with the Assabet  into the Concord -- then into the Merrimack and finally the sea. What likelihood of retrieving a lost canoe? If we only had a boat . . .

Today, as I set out for a walk, I crossed paths with a boy. He stopped to get acquainted. We had quite a good chat about events and people in the neighborhood, and I learned that he was Ricky, a middle schooler. He reminded me that he had bought Roy's canoe. Immediately I asked if they had ever found it. Oh, yes. Some people across the river had seen the floataway, had caught it and tied it at their waterfront. Somehow news of the catch got to Ricky's family.  "My Dad has a GPS, so we went and got the canoe," he said. "We had to climb down a real steep bank and carry it up. It's in our garage for the winter. If you and Mr. Barnacle ever want help with anything, just come and get me." Ricky headed for home and supper.

I had much to ponder on my walk. We had questioned the wisdom of a parent giving children a canoe to use, apparently unsupervised, on a river. We had seen no evidence of their recapturing the boat, and had assumed -- again -- some level of parental inattention. But all the time, the family had the situation well in hand. What kind of parents raise a child to be so comfortable conversing with an adult? So considerate? The fact is, that Ricky is the first neighbor to make a point of welcoming me to Riverview.