Wooden Ships

We had read about it in the Gazette, as had many others, apparently.

UMass grad student and local artist Steve Snell had hit upon an artistic concept unlike most: build a wooden boat around an old junk couch, and paddle it down the river. Post-Pop-Art, as it was described in the article. This was something that had to be seen to be believed. (Which I think is what they said MAKES it post-pop.)

He was scheduled to come by the Norrwottuck rail trail bridge about 3 o'clockish. We arrived about 3:30, and there was no sign of the bold artiste yet.

The usual boat traffic came and went underneath us and 3:30 turned to 4 o'clock.

What, did he sink? Some people could be heard murmuring sly jokes to each other, like, "Well, he's an artist, not a navigator. Sooo, I'll see you tomorrow."

But few spectators left.

The event was to be well documented. I saw a couple local blogger types and one local news camera, TV22, amongst us.

Then there was this guy smartly getting the live angle shots.

Finally, with a few squints and some pointing; a soft rise in voices signalled that the dubious had become real.

It was a guy... indeed paddling down river... indeed, on a couch.

Just when you think you've seen it all...

The crowd began to hoot and holler as he glided under the bridge. His Post-Pop-Art vessel seemingly as stable as any.

The artist-turned-sailor looked a little exhausted from his trek, which had begun up in Hatfield several miles away. Still he mustered up enough energy to play up the crowd with some exuberant paddle waving and hoots of his own.

He seemed relieved to have reached the end of the trip and called out to the camera boat following along that he'd take out at nearby Sportsman's Marina.

The couch while evidently seaworthy probably wasn't the sleekest hull on the river that day. But then, I supposed that's one good thing about floating a couch..

...when you get tired; wellll...

Elswell That Ends Well

It was the first launching this year for the trusty kayak, to round out a pleasant Memorial Day weekend. The course was for a late afternoon float around Elwell Island; one of the biggest islands in the Connecticut river, if not the biggest. Shoving off from the dock at the Elwell Recreation area about 5:30ish, several contented looking kayakers and other floaters were just pulling in, from their own mid afternoon outings.







Elwell island is about 60 acres in area, at one time used for pasture land. The island is now edged by thick forest but there's still a big meadow right in the middle. I'm not sure how they did it back in the day, but getting the animals on or off the island must have been some work (but maybe that was the idea).

The Norwottuck's old rail-bridge-turned-bike trail uses the southern end of the island as a stepping stone, where it enters and re-emerges from the trees midway across the wide river.





Nearby and just to the south is the much more modern and recently renovated Calvin Coolidge bridge (route 9)...



It takes about 2 miles of paddling to circumnavigate Elwell island. This day the course was set for a counter-clockwise loop around; tackling the wider, busier eastern branch of the river first. This is the side where the power boaters hurl themselves up and down the waterway at whatever speeds available. Kayakers are well advised to hug the shores here, and brace for wakes...



After fighting and losing against a few of the higher wakes myself, I took a break and went ashore to dry off a little, and do a little exploring...



Other than an abandoned campsite, the island appeared totally devoid of natives. But there were a lot of birds were singing high above, in a forest of cottonwoods and black willows that is growing thick in the flood plain soil of the island.



Unfortunately it was too late in the day for a more thorough exploration of the dark interiors of the island, and I was a little too light on bug repellent for that kind of jungle trek anyway. A trip for another time. For now, back to the open water...as it were.

Around to the northern end of the island, where on the opposite shore some kids were cashing in on the little luxuries of life...



...then down the peaceful western side. I pulled the paddles out of the water and gently floated along with the slow current; milking the last leg of the journey and racing cottonwoods seeds as they floated and landed like snowflakes all around.





Carried along slowly like little more than driftwood, even the ducks don't seem to mind if you get a little close.



Finally, the dock came within sight again as the sun was nearly down; casting reddish on everything.







Just a few more minutes to linger, then it's time to take out...



...just as the last of the day, and the last of the holiday weekend, has come.

Gone Fishing

We arranged to meet Tom and Judy up in Holyoke, to give the heralded Shad Derby a try. Shad are a medium size salt-water/fresh water fish. Annually they fight their way up the strong currents of the Connecticut River as far as they can to spawn, much like Atlantic Salmon.

Saturday was thankfully sunny and in the low 70's, despite the weathermen's best efforts to predict otherwise.



We met up at the Holyoke Bridge connecting Holyoke and South Hadley. It's a short walk down to the river on the Holyoke side, if you can find the way through a giant retaining wall lining the edge. We went to the right for quite a ways, before realizing we should have gone left.







We finally made it to the river's edge and staked out a section of riverbank for three fishermen, two lounging women, and a territorially defensive dog.



Fishermen of all ages lined all the banks at intervals.



These people had a great position on the other side of a canal run-off, where they could cast directly downstream and retrieve in a relatively straight line.





We had to cast out from our fishing spots and watch the line immediately veer to the right, downstream, forming a perfect arc right into the bank in the very strong current. The lures would bounce along the shallows as we reeled in. As with most things, the early birds get the best fishing spots. But, at least it wasn't crowded where we were. The boys and girls across the way didn't enjoy the same luxurious elbow room. And when you get that many fishing lines together, it can start getting...a little cob-webby.



The three of us on our side cast for a while, but weren't having any luck. The Shad have started their run, but from what I gather, the bulk of the legendary giant schools of fish haven't made it up this far yet. I've heard at it's peak, the fish can be caught almost immediately on every cast. Probably a fish story, but it's one I've heard often. Either way, I'm sure it gets more active than it was today. The guy with the biggest hat, of the anglers across the way, seemed to be doing ok though. He pulled one in every now and again. Must have been the Sachem of yonder tribe.



They were also subject to inspection from the local fuzz, who sauntered in for a look around.



Our ladies chatted, read magazines, and waited patiently for fish that never came. Judy, surveying the tossed beer cans, cigarette butts and donut boxes strewn all over the river bank, decided she'd seen enough of the disgusting litter. Grabbing a plastic bag, she did something about it.



Bravo.

We tried different spots and lures, but one by one came to realize the Shad weren't having it today. We reluctantly decided to pack up and go check out the fish elevators nearby at the dam before they closed. The elevators, or fish ladders as they are known, are right across the street, at the Holyoke Gas & Electric Hydroelectric station on the end of the dam. Holyoke G&E sponsors the annual Shad Derby. You can register there for the derby, weigh and record your catches for prizes, or just go fishing without registering.

The dam was only flowing over on the edges today, but quite forcefully.





We entered the Robert E. Barrett Fishway, as it's called. There's some pretty interesting pictures, an observation deck right next to the dam, a glass fish viewing station where they record the quantity and types of fish passing through. Down below an elevated walkway, two giant turbines are turning, generating what I believe they said was 30 megawatts of electricity from the dammed up water.



I took some good pictures of the inside, but afterwards was (very politely) told I wasn't supposed to have a camera in there. So, I'm not going to post the pictures. Ok just one of the outside from the observation deck:



There's some cool stuff in there, and the staff are very kind and enthusiastic about what they do. They're eager to discuss the fishway, and point out some of the cool stuff to visitors, like the Shad leaping above the massive churning overflow of the dam, trying to get through. The Shad aren't not much for eating from what I hear, but they're heroic little fighters. Against Man and Element. Inside, there are several very cool pictures of the construction of the existing dam at the turn of the 20th century. Also, there are pictures of the old wooden, (that's right, wooden) dam that was there before it. The fishway will only be open until Father's Day in June, around when the fish runs stop, so if you want to see the Fishway, do it soon...

One More Cast

Tom and Judy had to go, and we bid each other adieu, after leaving the Fishway. The remaining three of us headed for Easthampton.



The original idea was to check out the Art Walk that was going on there. Unfortunately, I had fish on the brain. As soon as I spotted Nashawannuck Pond, I checked myself out of the group. Kelly and Chris took a walk around the pond to Mt. Tom Ice Cream for some treats, while I parked myself on the edge of the pond for a few more casts.



Mt. Tom (the mountain) always provides a stunning back drop to the scenery of this town.



Nashawannuck Pond is stocked every spring with trout, and several fishermen ringed and floated in the pond. The pond extends for a ways, but the main, widest part is located on Cottage St., pretty much in the heart of town.





I cast a few more, but to no effect. Kelly and Chris came back from their sugar hunt at Mt. Tom Ice Cream; Chris sporting a string of candy in one hand, Chocolate ice cream cone in the other. Kelly devoured her Cashew Turtle and watched while I explored different ways at not catching fish. That seemed to be the prevailing affect among my fellow anglers surrounding the pond, so I didn't feel that bad. We packed up and headed out a short while later. One thing I did catch though, was a marvelous sunset on the way home.



Then I almost got hooked myself, as this police officer pulled over to see what I thought I was doing on the side of the road...



Just blogging sir... nothing to see here....