Monday, November 29, 2010

Exploring the Bridgewater Triangle and the Hockomock Swamp: Was Bigfoot a Bull Moose?


By Douglas Watts
Augusta, Maine
November, 2010


Since around 1970 a number of authors, bored newspaper reporters, amateur attention seekers, the easily befuddled, the benignly mentally unstable and the slightly or highly inebriated have combined efforts to weave a rich tapestry which persists today under the name, "The Bridgewater Triangle."[1]

Why a Triangle and not a Trapezoid?

As the character Eb in Neil Stephenson's novel Cryptonomicon points out, any three points form a triangle. If you add one more point, you get a trapezoid, or a rhombus, or a rectangle or a square.

Author Loren Coleman takes credit for naming the Bridgewater Triangle around 1970. His choice of polygons was not coincidental, since at the time much hay was made about the presence of the "Bermuda Triangle" aka "The Devil's Triangle" in the mid-Atlantic.

Whether fuelled by sincere belief, hope of fame or a bit of both, Coleman was astute enough at marketing to realize that glomming onto a then-in-vogue phrase associated with the supernatural would give "The Bridgewater Triangle" media traction not available if he had named it "The Taunton Trapezoid" or the "Hockomock Hexagon" or the "Raynham Rhombus."

Once Coleman had selected this admittedly catchy name, he had to explain why he selected the specific vertices of his triangle; why he did not choose others; and why he ignored 'supernatural' events that were reported near but outside the strict perimeter of the triangle he drew in pencil on a AAA road map of Massachusetts.

Coleman's choice of a highly specific shape, the triangle, and a highly defined bounds for that triangle, should have been derived from a scatter plot of reports and sightings that were constrained to within that triangle at a rate greater than would be expected by chance.

But once Coleman published his chosen shape (a triangle) and selected its vertices and bounds, any subsequent reports and memories of weird phenomena would tend to be those occuring within the bounds of the arbitrary lines that Coleman first drew.

This creates a self-reinforcing dynamic, called bootstrapping, wherein people who had 'weird' experiences within the Triangle feel encouraged to report them, while those who had 'weird' experiences outside the bounds of the triangle feel proportionately less encouraged to report them, lest their reports disturb the pre-set bounds of the Triangle. And then, voila, subsequent reportings tend to support the validity of the original, arbitrary bounds and shape of the 'triangle.'

Medical researchers have long been aware of this psychological effect on both subject/informant and researcher, which is why drug evaluations are done "double blind" wherein neither the test subject or the researcher knows who got the drug and who got a placebo. This all derives from the placebo effect, wherein patients given a pill they are told might cure their ailment sometimes respond positively even though they were given a sugar pill. And doctors, with lots of time and effort on the line working to devise a new cure, will often subconsciously interpret study results to show the drug has a productive effect, simply because they know which patients received the 'real' drug and which received a sugar pill. Hence the need for double blind studies.

The research collected by 'paranormal' researchers about the Bridgewater Triangle is a textbook example of all the key flaws of non-double-blind research. The researcher is clearly biased: he wants to find positive evidence to support his pre-determined conclusion.[2] The 'subjects' are entirely self-selected in the sense that they will only make 'reports' if they fit and support the conclusions the researcher has already told them. Not surprisingly, folks like Loren Coleman only get emails and letters from people who basically want to tell Coleman something that supports, rather than detracts from, what he has already said. Nobody takes the time to write to Coleman to say they have never seen UFOs or Bigfoot in the Hockomock. Self-selection bias is deadly and is well known to pollsters, psychologists and medical researchers.

As Kevin Spacey said to Jack Lemmon in Glengarry Glen Ross about Helen and Bruce Nyborg: "They're insane, Shelley. They just happen to like talking to salesmen."

A Long Tradition of Scary Spooky Stories -- Now Updated !!!

The legend of the Bridgewater Triangle has all the characteristics of a meme: a story or belief that propagates itself regardless of its truth. "Urban myths" form an entire class of this psychological phenomena. We all know this phenomena from parties and jobs, where we tend to agree with somebody we wish to impress even if they say something we don't actually agree with. It's all a risk/benefit calculation.

If you're in a job interview or talking to your boss and they say something kooky, and you want to get the job or keep your job or get promoted, the risk of agreeing with them is minimal and the benefits are tangible. But the risk of disagreeing with them are real, ie. not getting the job, not keeping the job, or not getting promoted. So in a calculation that often occurs at the subconscious level, the risk/benefits are strongly weighted on telling your boss you agree with them, and if you want extra brownie points, providing them with an anecdote or argument that strengthens their position. Thus the origin of the "Yes Man."

This is the departure point between science and pseudoscience. Pseudoscientists seek information that confirms or supports their initial hypothesis. Scientists seek information that disproves their hypothesis; not because they want their hypothesis disproven, but because they know the only way for a scientific hypothesis to have an integrity is if it has been subjected to the most strenuous falsification tests possible. This is why car makers run their cars headlong into cement walls rather than into giant soft pillows to test the durability of their chassis when striking cement walls.

The Good Done by Bridgewater Triangle Enthusiasts

Once you take into account all of the psychological effects described above, the many and various 'reports' supplied by ordinary folk to 'paranormal' researchers about the Hockomock Swamp and the surrounding environs provide a great deal of value. Why do people take time to supply this information?

The first reason is simple: people like to be listened to.

The second is deeper: for many people who grew up around the Hockomock, the place does exert a sense of awe and mystery. I believe this emotional response is a good thing that should be encouraged. It's a child-like awe that, when removed, results in strip-malls, apathy, and obsessive television viewing.

Ultimately, the Bridgewater Triangle boils down to two questions that young kids always ask, "Why?" and "What if?" Our society seems determined to stamp out those questions. It is not a good thing, especially for the advancement of science.

The Hockomock has always been a cipher. This is a good thing. It would be a terrible loss if every square inch of it could be studied and analyzed to squeeze out, capture and contain for analysis every unknown which it holds. It would be a very wet, but very dry husk. Sort of like if a neuroscientist could exactly explain why Pablo Picasso or Louis Armstrong made every brush stroke and every trumpet note they ever made just by putting their preserved brains under a super high power scanning electron microscope.

From this perspective the reports of 'odd' phenomena around the Hockomock are of great value. Many appear to be honest and vivid sightings of wildlife. I do not doubt these folks saw 'something,' I only differ in my assumption of what they saw or thought they saw.

A classic observation, during the last 30 years, is of very large animals crossing small roads near and through the Hockomock. These are all very brief sightings (usually in cars) and in difficult lighting conditions (dusk, dawn).

Assuming these sightings of large animals are not hallucinatory, not highly exaggerated, and not just plain falsified, it is not too hard to come up with a short list of animals that would fit the provided descriptions. The animals are moose, black bear and large (200+) white tailed deer.

The problem with both the eyewitness reporters of these animals and their interpreters ('paranormal' researchers) is they have no clue as to the native historic animal life of the Hockomock and southeastern Mass. in general. This is not their fault. They just haven't done the historical research.

It shocks many people that moose and black bear were very common in southeastern Massachusetts prior to the late 1700s. Moose were common all the way down to the Elizabeth Islands and Cuttyhunk on the southernmost extremity of Cape Cod. There is a "Moose Hill" in Sharon, Mass. a few miles from the "Bridgewater Triangle" that is now a wildlife refuge and education center.

Due to the relentless (I would say insane) obsession of our 18th and 19th century forbears with exterminating every bit of wildlife from New England larger than a chickadee from their sight, virtually every large mammal native to eastern Massachusetts was extirpated by about 1900, except for tiny remnant fragments. Beaver, bobcat, mountain lion, moose, wolves, wild turkey, passenger pigeon and (nearly) white tailed deer were all made extinct in eastern Massachusetts by 1900 and many well before that day. This deliberate extirpation (by directed hunting) was abetted by the relentless, insane obsession of 18th and 19th century settlers to cut down every tree in Massachusetts.

Unlike the claims of 'paranormal' researchers, the above is all thoroughly and exhaustively documented in various laws passed by the Massachusetts Legislature from 1650 to present and is available for the looking in the Massachusetts Archives. But that takes work. And 'paranormal' researchers are not wont to spend much time examining historical archives which might produce 1700s or 1800s documents that provide a more mundane and prosaic explanation for alleged "Bigfoot" sightings near the Hockomock.

And, you can't sell a book or free-lance newspaper story based on evidence which shows a "Bigfoot" or "pterodactyl" sighting in the Hockomock was most likely a great blue heron or a big white-tailed deer. Once the fable has been established, the only money trail is to feed the fable to feed the table. As a freelancer myself, I understand this financial impulse, but the product sold is still fraudulent.

Moose and Bear in the Hockomock?

Moose have been gradually filtering back into Massachusetts for the past 40 years. However because they entered northern and western Massachusetts first, coming down the spine of the Berkshires, southeastern Massachusetts is sort of the station at the very end of the train line.

It is at least possible that a few adventurous moose from time to time have passed into and through the environs of the Hockomock in the past several decades. The Brockton Enterprise carried a story in the late fall several years ago of a deer hunter in Taunton claiming to have seen a moose, albeit briefly, in a dense wooded area near the swamp. To my knowledge there have not been any confirmed or repeated sightings.

Despite their size, moose can be extremely difficult to observe even in places where they are fairly common. Where I live in Augusta, Maine moose tracks are not uncommon along the banks of the Kennebec River. However in 20 years of living in Augusta and roaming the Kennebec River and adjacent woods I have never seen one, even though they are there.

In a woodland as thick and expansive and as lightly travelled as the Hockomock, a small group of moose, or an itinerant migrant passing through, could easily go completely unobserved and undetected.

The same can be said for black bear, although indications are the rate of black bear in-migration to Massachusetts is occurring much more slowly than with moose. However, black bear are notoriously reclusive animals and take great care to stay as far from people as possible. An itinerant bear in the Hockomock would be exceedingly hard to document except by sheer luck on the scale of winning Powerball.

As with moose, the most likely way that one would make 'first contact' with a moose or bear in the Hockomock would be to observe tracks or scat and this requires someone who knows exactly what to look for and to actually be looking for it. Complicating this is that today, most of the people who actually go into the Swamp do so with ATVs and dirtbikes along the powerlines and the old railroad bed behind the Raynham Dog Track. The noise created by these machines practically guarantees that if there were any large mammals around they would be long out of sight before you would have a chance to seem them.

A fairly typical 'sighting' was told to Easton writer Ross Muscato in 2005:

"Joe DeAndrade thinks the swamp may be the habitat of a creature yet to be identified. In 1978, DeAndrade, then 24, was standing on the shore of Clay Banks, a pond in Bridgewater near the swamp. His back was to the water.
''I was standing there, and for some reason I had to turn around," DeAndrade says. ''It was a chill or something inside me. And I turned around, and there, off to the right, maybe 200 yards away, there was this -- well, I don't know what it was. It was a creature that was all brown and hairy, like a big apish-and-man thing. It was making its way for the woods, but I didn't stick around to watch where it was going. I ran for the street."

Mr. DeAndrade's recreation of his 1978 encounter, at the site where it occurred, can be seen here.

This 'sighting' -- if it actually occurred -- has all the hallmarks of a moose sighting. Like most quoted by paranormalists, the anecdote ends just as it gets interesting. Two hundred yards is a long way away -- it's the length of two football fields -- and it's impossible to know how well Mr. DeAndrade is at calculating distances in just a few seconds. Even a bull moose at 200 yards would not be easy to identify to species especially if it was already moving into the woods. That Mr. DeAndrade says he immediately "ran for the street" instead of staying and trying to get a better glimpse of the animal says something.

This anecdote, from an unnamed informant, was given to paranormalist Chris Pittman of Franklin, Mass. in 2008:

"When I went to the building across the street from the Raynham Dog Track it was about 8 and just starting to get dark, we went to the back of the building. There are some trailers there that weren't there about a month ago, and some old cars. We went towards the woods to park our dirtbikes and there was a nasty smell so we looked around and in a trailer that was open there was a tarp down and there were 3 or 4 dead deer- I think that's what they were, couldn't really tell. They were all ripped open, with all the guts all over the place. It was nasty. There was evidence that someone was there, we saw footprints and some soda that wasn't open and we noticed that the building is more closed up that it was before. We also heard some noise coming from the tower part, it sounded like someone was slamming metal around. I have been in the building and walked around but didn't go in some of the back rooms because it was really dark and I didn't have a light... I have also seen dead animals like that before out on the powerlines, there was at least six stacked up, all ripped apart, and I have come across some hanging in trees."

While cited as a 'paranormal' observation, this anecdote has a mundane and grisly explanation. The informant happened upon a deer poaching operation. Deer hunting is common in the Hockomock and deer stands are found all over the swamp, usually on small islands of high ground or along its edges. Deer poaching is unfortunately commonplace in part because the chances of getting caught doing it in the swamp are slim to none. Poaching also helps explain the lack of any recorded kills of moose or bear in the swamp. It is illegal to hunt moose or bear in southeastern Massachusetts so even if someone did see one and take a potshot at one they would have to keep it a secret.

The next anecdote, again from 2008, is also easily explainable:

"My daughter and I were driving down Administration Road in the Bridgewater Correctional Complex... We saw a pine tree bent (not snapped but curved) in half with something standing on the tip of the tree, holding it down to the ground in the middle of the street. This was about 2:15 in the afternoon, on a Saturday. I was fixated on the fact that a tree could bend like that without breaking, but my daughter saw the "thing" right away and she was fixated on that. We had to stop because it was in the middle of the street. We looked at it and we just didn't know what to say. It looked like a tall man, hunched down a bit, in a skin tight black suit with large, almost bat type wings. He was a matte, not shiny black color, head to foot. He was standing, but hunched down, on the pine tree, his weight was holding down the top. he saw us and we looked at each other for just a few minutes then he straightened, leaped and flew over the top of the trees on the other side of the road. The pine tree he had been standing on, bounced back up slowly, and rocked back and forth a few times before stopping in it's normal standing position. That was all we saw. We were both awake, fully rested, lucid, drug and alcohol free and it was during daylight hours: 2:15 in the afternoon."

The description given is very close to a large wild turkey or more likely, a turkey vulture. The problem with a story like this is that we don't know whether the informants have any familiarity with local wildlife. Turkey vultures are enormous, strange-looking birds that are rarely observed up close and near the ground (usually you only see them flying in the air a considerable distance overhead). After a long absence from southeastern Mass., they are now making a comeback.

This anecdote, from 1975 but reported in 2007, is another that, if not completely fabricated, suggests a moose sighting.

"In 1975 I was driving my girlfriend home to Brockton. I don't remeber the name of the street, but traveling there from E.B. you start on Pleasant, take the fork to the left, it goes down a slight slope a few houses on either side, then there's (or was) a clearing where the power lines went through.

Anyhow, it's some time between 11 and midnight, and I'm driving along while my girlfriend was sound asleep. Up ahead I noticed a very large black mass in the middle of the road (just before the power lines). I can't tell what it is and while I'm still 30 -50 feet away I slow way down and put on my brights. I still can't see what it is but it's really large and it's absorbing the light from my headlights so I really have to stare at it. I'm thinking it's some huge trash bag or something and I'll need to pull it out of the road. I'm getting really close, 10 - 20 feet and I'm just rolling the car along, and I can't see what it is. But it's big, I had a 67 Plymouth Fury III 4 door, and this mass was well above my hood line.

So I'm going so slow I'm almost at a stop and I can't be more than 5 - 10 feet away, and it's taking in all of the light, I still can't see what it is. Then really slowly this thing lifts it's head and stares right at me!! It's face was bone white, no hair, mostly apelike, thick brow, wide jaw, no eyebrows. And still no body, but because of the size of the black mass it had to be at least 7 feet tall, maybe even 8.

It actually gave me a heart attack. I felt my heart stop for three full beats. Then I recovered, pulled around it and stepped on the gas. I shook from head to toe for hours, and for years after when I thought about it."

Again, the pattern is the same. Except for people who have travelled to northern Maine and are savvy about wildlife, the chance observation of an adult moose at night would be a truly bizarre occurrence in southeastern Massachusetts. Moose are extremely odd-looking creatures in part because their bodies rest on very long legs and they have, in some ways, very 'human-like' faces. The described height (7-8 feet) is identical to an adult moose.

Like all of these anecdotes, this one ends just as it gets interesting. The informant describes the "animal" as standing 5-10 feet in front of his car and towering over it. At such a close distance, even with high beams on the car headlights would not illuminate much of a 7 foot tall animal. But most telling is the informant fails to note how many legs it has. This would be fairly easy to discern by counting. Does it have arms? Is it standing on two legs? Given the length of time of the observation and the proximity to the animal, it would seem the informant could have at least counted and recollected how many legs it had and if it had arms or not. Lastly, the informant never tells us whether the animal walked past them to the other side of the road. It would seem the animal would have to get out of the middle of the road in order for the driver to continue down the road. But no, the 'story' ends abruptly with the animal in the middle of the road blocking the driver's car.

I like this anecdote because it neatly illustrates a consistent pattern in the type of observations submitted to and collected by 'paranormal' researchers regarding the Hockomock and the Bridgewater Triangle. On one hand you have vivid, up-close sensory descriptions of certain elements; but a complete absence of other sensory descriptions that should have, and could have, been made.

Then there's one of my favorites: "we didn't have a flashcube during the day" anecdote:

“My cousin lives in Raynham along the old Conrail tracks that run behind the Raynham Dog Track. He moved there in about 1988 and we were recently recalling a strange incident that happened about that time. I was around 12 or 13 and it had snowed an inch or two that night before. We were out in his back yard when we noticed some strange footprints in the snow. The footprints were not of an animal, but of a human being or so we believed. The prints were spread out showing very large strides and the prints were not extremely large and could easily pass for an adult size 13 or so. Here is what we found to be very weird at the time: the footprints ran straight through some very thick briars, shrubs and small trees. We attempted to take photos of the prints but were unsuccessful because we did not have a flashcube. Of course our parents all thought we were just kids being stupid and naive… As I remember his next-door neighbor had a chicken coop in his back yard, the direction from which the tracks originated. His neighbor had quite a problem with losing his chickens, as he thought to coyotes, which there are a number of out in that area, but I am becoming more convinced that coyotes were not his problem.”

Aside from all the other problems with this tale, the "tell" is that the photos didn't come out because they didn't have a flashcube. It is hard to understand why you would need a flashcube to take a picture of a large animal track in bright white snow during the day. That said, the usable portion of the description fits well with a moose track.

This anecdote, from 2004, again near the Hockomock, is suggestive of a moose:

"Another odd happening if you are interested, I was on Scotland Street in West Bridgwater which turns into a Bridgewater Street about halfway through and has fields on either side with dirt paths going into them for a large portion of the street. For fun a friend and I drove down one and parked to try and lose another car full of friends. He looked out the window and called my attention to a very large person who stood up in the middle of the field and then moved towards us. Needless to say we drove away very fast. I still have yet to meet anyone that large."

And some anecdotes, when examined textually, just make no sense. This is from 2005.

"I have a alien story that is all true and happened to me and my son. My son won't comment on it, but I was eye to eye with one of these beings. Here goes....One night, or I should say one morning, early in the morning around one or two I guess, my son and I were riding around after work trying to unwind before going home. Now this was in the late 90s that this happened. We were somewhere on Route 24 going toward Brockton, I was near the swamp area near Bridgewater. I'm driving down the road and I see this thing come out of the woods on the other side running right across the road. Thank God, there wasn't any traffic. I yelled to my son and asked what the hell was that, he said he didn't know. By my rate of speed and his rate of speed he was in a route for a collison with my drivers door, if he kept running across the highway. He kept running across, now I was almost up to him, I yelled to my son to hold on this was something big and it was going to crash into the car. I grabbed the wheel tightly, turned and looked out the drivers window and I was eye to eye with this being. He stood like a man, with big big black eyes, no pupils, just solid black, his body looked like it was all one piece. Nothing with joints. Then I closed my eyes for a second to wait for the impact, none came. I opened my eyes and pulled over immediately, hoping someone behind me saw what I saw, and there were no other cars near me, they were too far behind me to see. I was shaking like a leaf. I can't believe it didn't cause an impact. I couldn't believe what I saw. My son was shaking too, I asked him what he saw and he said he saw something but didn't know what it was. I could see he was shaken just like me. To this day he wont admit he saw what I did. I am telling the absolute truth about everything, and I would face God right now and swear in front of him that this actually happened. I never knew what the poor thing was running from. I do consider myself quite lucky though to be priviliged to have seen this being... I also have walked through the swamp area, and it has one of the most awful feelings to it. I just wanted out of there."

The "tell" here is that the driver did not even apply the brakes to avoid hitting the 'man-thing' running across Route 24 right in front of him; and that according to the man's own story he 'hoped' the man-thing would get out of his path before he struck it. Why not apply the brakes, especially if it might be a person? Another 'tell' is that cars on Route 24 travel at a speed of 60-70 mph which would make it impossible to get a 'good look' at a 'man-thing' right next to your driver's side window, unless you actually stopped the vehicle, which according to the driver's own story, he did not. Instead he says did not pull over until after the 'man-thing' apparently passed right through the body of his vehicle. None of this makes any sense.

I put this anecdote in a separate category called "Total Bullshit."

Analyzing the Anecdotes

I do not doubt the honesty of these personal anecdotes. Well, a little bit. Viewing them in succession allows you to discern repeating patterns. The most obvious is that a lot of people are scared stiff of the Hockomock Swamp; and that the mental stability of at least some of these folks is questionable, at least at the time of their observations.

An axiom of science is that you can't prove a negative. So, keeping to this rule, we can never completely dismiss everything these folks reported seeing and hearing since we didn't see and hear it at the same time and place as they. So we have to rely upon a preponderance of evidence approach, ie. why is it only people who are totally befuddled and scared the ones who saw strange things in the Hockomock? And why do these strange creatures hide from people who might approach an anomalous sighting more rationally?

I like these anecdotes because, unlike dry scientific reports and maps, they encapsulate a much broader and richer emotional depth of what it is like to live alongside the Hockomock. They don't tell us much about the swamp itself; but they tell us much about peoples' relation to the Swamp.

And the most common note is fear. Nearly every anecdote ends with the informant running or driving away from the Swamp in total fear and not coming back. The Hock is prickly in this sense; it does not suffer fools gladly but at the right time of year and place it rolls out the welcome mat and lets you in and become part of it, even if just for a few hours. The Hockomock is truly a scary place, in the sense that if you go into it you can die. But you can also just as easily die painting the side of your house, but still people paint the sides of their houses.

I like the mystery and intrigue the Hockomock evokes in people. It is good. We should be challenged by places so near and so full of questions that nobody can answer. It keeps us wondering and not so falsely self-assured.

UPDATE: To offer a partial concurrence with the commenter below, there is no question the Hockomock has long evoked a wide variety of emotional responses in people, especially in those like myself who grew up around it. My break with 'triangle enthusiasts' is whether these emotional responses, which are undoubtedly real, have any causal connection to phenomena outside the realm of science.
1. As an unwitting confirmation of this essay's theme, the Wikipedia entry for the Bridgewater Triangle is a stale rehash/plagiarism of all of the unattributed and undocumented crazy tales repeated over and over again in newspaper articles dating back to the early 1970s, none of which provide any factual substantiation.

2. To his credit, Chris Pittman of Franklin admits in his website that a piece of scat (ie. poop) he had initially attributed to a "Bigfoot" from the Hockomock is actually coyote poop from the coyote eating a deer carcass, including the skin and fur.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Fun with Odd Musical Meters


---

This little demo by Dweezil Zappa reminds me of experiments I have done trying to learn to write in odd musical meters ... like ....

This pleasant ditty, which is the theme to a goofy song I wrote for a growly pirate voice who is supposed to be Satan but also Chuck Woolery, is counted in sevens to confuse Bob Barker, who is a straight 5/8 game show host.

Odd meter has two meanings. Odd in the sense of different or unusual; and in the sense of the count being an odd, rather than an even number.

My little system depends on a belief that people discern rhythm by strong and weak beats and we generally assume that the first beat, like the capital letter at the first word of a sentence, tells us when the sentence starts and the next capital letter tells us the previous sentence has ended and a new one has begun. We mentally accent on the one because it tells us where each new grouping starts and thereby keeps things from dissolving into 1/1 (which means either 'no accents' or 'all accents' which in music means the same thing). Which is why writing

INALLCAPITALLETTERSWITHOUTSPACING

is not very enjoyable.

Or we can use an atomic analogy wherein the electron, proton and neutron of musical meters are the numbers 2, 3 and 4; or for most purposes 2/4, 3/4, 4/4. (1/1 is pretty boring since every note is given the same accent); in the sense that any grouping bigger than 4 can be broken down into some combination of 2, 3 and 4.

For instance, 5/4 is a 2/4 + a 3/4; so it's counted out as 1,2,1,2,3 ... with the accent on the one, or as a 3/4 and a 2/4, counted out as 1,2,3,1,2 ...

A seven beat is just a 4/4 plus a 3/4 so it's counted 1,2,3,4,1,2,3 or 1,2,3,1,2,3,4 ... The verse portions of "Money" by Pink Floyd is in sevens. You can easily follow the bass line and see it's counted as a 4/4 plus a 3/4 (1,2,3,4,1,2,3 ...). In David Gilmour's guitar solos, the beat switches to a straight, driving 4/4 which creates a nice release from the tension knotted up in the 7/8 parts.

I usually think of a nine beat as a 5/4 plus a 4/4: 1,2,3,4,5,1,2,3,4 or a 4/4 plus a 5/4: 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4,5 ...

Obviously, a 9 beat could be thought of as three 3/4 beats: 1,2,3,1,2,3,1,2,3 but that just dissolves back into a straight 3/4 beat because each 1 is accented the same amount.

An eleven beat could be a 6/8 plus a 5/8: 1,2,3,1,2,3,1,2,3,4,5 .... remembering that a 6/8 beat is two 3/4s (1,2,3,1,2,3) with the second 1 accented slightly less than the first to keep it from dissolving back into straight 3/4. "House of the Rising Sun" is a well known song in 6/8. I like 6/8 because it has an "old-timey" sound (partly because not many people waltz these days).

In this little live 1978 ditty with Vinnie Colaiuta (drums), Arthur Barrow (bass) and L. Shankar (electric violin), Frank Zappa teaches the crowd how to clap along with a song in 13/8, which here is a group of 5/8 and 4/4 (1,2,1,2,3,1,2,3,4) with the back 4/4 taking the same amount of time to count as the front 5/8:



So how you group your 2s and 3s and 4s into 5s, 7s, 9s and 11s etc. determines where the accents fall; and it's the accents that tell the listener you're playing in something other than 1/1.

One pitfall of Dweezil's method of counting a seven beat in the video is that unlike the words one, two, three, four, five and six, the word seven has two syllables. If you mentally or verbally count out the numbers to play a seven beat that second syllable in the word 'seven' screws you up and pushes you into an eight count, which pushes you right back into 4/4, which is what you're trying to stay away from.

You could count out in French, where the numbers 1-7 all have one syllable, or say "sev..." instead of "seven." This helps keep you on track of one syllable = one beat. But usually I just count 1,2,3,4,1,2,3 which forces me to accent on the ones and preserves the 'atomic structure' of the 7 beat as a 4/4 grouped with a 3/4.

Anyways, this is how I ended up making sense playing and writing stuff in odd meters. I don't use them that often but they are fun to mess around with and make you think of music and rhythm through a different lens. It's useful for guitarists and keyboardists who tend to be obsessed with pitch and harmony and give far less attention to the creative use of rhythm and meter.

To my ear, pieces that stay in an odd meter the whole time tend to get grating, almost because the human mind (well at least my mind), desperately 'wants' the beat to come in at even intervals and odd meters defeat this expectation, either by coming in one beat too early or one beat too late (odd meters suggest a polyrhythm depending how far you want to push them). But they are fun to use as spice in the punch bowl, just as it's fun to play something highly chromatic for a bit, do an odd key modulation, or to slow down and speed up a tempo or get louder and softer. Anything to create tension and release and surprise in a composition is a worthwhile tool to have around so long as you don't let it call attention to itself and make it sound like you're just showing off, which is no fun for anyone.

sOr ToFw RitINGl ike tHIS.

I have to tip my hat to metal, esp. since the mid 1980s, because they have messed more with odd meter composition than any other form of popular music, in part because they know their audience is not intending to dance to the stuff and demand a constant droning 4/4.

One reason odd meters are interesting and understandable to me is from taking a lot of poetry classes in college and having to study and write stuff in all types of rhythmic structures, iambic pentameter, hexameter etc. Thinking and learning and playing in 4/4 is like thinking all poems and songs are supposed to sound like limericks.
The mp3 song file above, "Happy in 7/8," is mindnumbingly simple in that the drums tell you it is two 3/4 phrases with the last held on the keyboard for one extra beat (1,2,3,1,2,3,4); and for this reason it still has a strong waltz feel to it. A better way to think of it is as 6/8 with one extra beat added at the end of the grouping. The piano solo part is basically 6/8.

If you really want to get weird with odd meters you can get a MIDI sequencer and a keyboard and just type in odd numbered groupings of notes and make your keyboard play them and see what they sound like. This lets you hear the final product quickly without having to drill your hands into not screwing up. As in all musical composition, sometimes the result is worth keeping and sometimes it is best erased.

Monday, November 08, 2010

FERC Consultant Admits to Stealing Tens of Millions of $$$ from U.S. Citizens but is still "On the Job and Shovel-Ready."

Dam at Saccarappa Falls, Presumpscot River, Westbrook, Maine c. 1900.

And the sun rises in the east. The Louis Berger Group, a New Jersey corporation hired by the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) to prepare the Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) for the Presumpscot River in 2001 has admitted to 'knowingly and systematically' defrauding the U.S. Government for work in Afghanistan and has agreed to pay a $70 million fine.

According to McClatchy News Service (formerly Knight Ridder), the $70 million fine "may" be the largest fine ever paid by a government contractor for defrauding U.S. citizens.

In 2001-2002, FERC hired the Louis Berger Group to prepare a scientific study of the benefits and impacts of removing the three lowermost dams on the Presumpscot River (Saccarappa, Little Falls and Mallison Falls). The study, which was a key part of FERC's decision to not order the removal of the dams, was so inept that FOSL and Friends of the Presumpscot River had to spend 100s of hours writing extensive comments to FERC trying to correct its factual errors.

Now the Louis Berger Group has admitted to overbilling and defrauding the U.S. Govt. of tens of millions of dollars related to engineering and construction contracts in Afghanistan. But not to worry, the company will still continue doing consulting work for the U.S. government. In Afghanistan. And elsewhere. Hopefully not on a river near you.

After all, being caught stealing tens of million dollars from your employer is not a fireable offense. So if you meet the Louis Berger Group during your travels and travails you might want to Run to the Hills.

Sunday, November 07, 2010

A Ray of Hope for Atlantic Sturgeon and a Vindication for Jasper Carlton.



At last, a ray of hope. In 1997 a man named Jasper Carlton from the Biodiversity Legal Foundation in Colorado filed a scientific petition to protect Atlantic sturgeon from going extinct under the U.S. Endangered Species Act.

Jasper's ESA petition was denied, illegally, by Bruce Babbitt and the Clinton Administration. Mr. Carlton and I discussed this quite a bit over the phone then. Now, in 2010, NOAA has proposed listing the Atlantic sturgeon as an Endangered Species thanks to Jasper's advocacy and, unfortunately, to the sturgeons' increasing paucity, including right off the WTC site in the Hudson River in NYC where they used to be common in the 1980s. So common that a large kill fishery for them was authorized and encouraged. Oops.

Atlantic sturgeon are native to the Presumpscot River and its estuary.

http://www.nefsc.noaa.gov/press_release/2010/News/NR1025/index.html

Greenwashing circa 1932





















This newspaper advertisement from the Kennebec Journal (Augusta, Maine) in 1932 illustrates one of the first uses of mass media to 'greenwash' the effects of a large corporation on publicly owned rivers.

What this advertisement doesn't say is that the large dams on Maine rivers built by Central Maine Power in the 1930s wiped out the last remnants of the native, migratory fish runs of Maine's large rivers.

This is the purpose of 'greenwashing.'
Source: Microfilm of the Kennebec Journal at Maine State Library, State Capitol Complex, Augusta, Maine.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Friends of Sebago Lake was Right !!!


By Douglas Watts
Friends of Sebago Lake
October 2010

On October 5, 2010, Maine Inland Fisheries & Wildlife Commissioner Roland 'Danny' Martin made history. He is the first Maine fisheries commissioner since 1875 to use his powers under the State of Maine's fishway law to order a fishway built on a dam on the Presumpscot River, the outlet of Sebago Lake, Maine's deepest and second largest freshwater body.

Martin signed the Department's Final Order requiring S.D. Warren Company to build fishways at their Cumberland Mills Dam on the Presumpscot River in Westbrook, Maine. The passageways must be operational for the spring 2013 run of migrating fish. This Order is under the State of Maine's Fishway Law.


View Larger Map

While the passageways could be ready by spring 2012 (with construction in 2011), the job is indeed complex because, as the photo above shows, the falls at the dam have been extensively altered and steepened by blasting during the past 150 years and the site of the fishway is directly underneath the S.D. Warren mill buildings, making the use of the heavy equipment at the falls a challenge. The falls, by the way, are called Ammoncongin.

For Friends of Sebago Lake, this decision is a vindication for a long, independent advocacy effort we undertook with Friends of Merrymeeting Bay in 2007-2008 when the State of Maine and S.D. Warren and two conservation groups, Friends of the Presumpscot River and American Rivers, secretly negotiated in 2007 a disastrous agreement which would have taken back most of the hard-won fishway requirements at the five Warren dams above the mill in exchange for Warren voluntarily providing fish passage at the Cumberland Mills Dam by 2012-2013.

Upon hearing of this secret agreement in summer 2007, FOSL expressed to State officials its deep concerns about the legality and wisdom of the deal. The State did not respond, so FOSL published an open letter in the Portland Press-Herald on Thankgiving Day, 2007 demanding a public hearing be held. [1]

In Jan. 2008 we and Friends of Merrymeeting Bay met with key state staff in Augusta to discuss our concerns. At this meeting, Maine's assistant Attorney General, Jan McClintock, told Dept. of Marine Resources Commissioner, George Lapointe that the state had to conduct a public meeting under state law about the secret settlement agreement.

The State agreed to hold a public hearing in South Portland in Feb. 2008. While FOSL publicized the meeting, the State did not, and didn't even publish a public notice for the meeting. Nobody in the general public knew about the meeting. Clearly, the State didn't really want to hold the public hearing and didn't really want the general public to even know about the meeting. We informed the State of this by letter on March 7, 2008. To make matters worse, the State provided only a seven day public comment period on their plan, guaranteeing they would receive no public comments. Weirdly, we noted, the same year the State had published a draft plan for restoring the same fish species on the Penobscot River and conducted widely publicized meetings on it, with a generous public comment period. Why the stark difference?

At the public meeting, FOSL and FOMB members told the State the proper course of action was for the State to use its legal rights to require S.D. Warren to build fishways at the dam pursuant to the State's fishway law. By doing this, we argued, there was no reason for the State to give back the key fish passage requirements at the next five dams in order to secure Warren's voluntary agreement to build a fishway at Cumberland Mills. Our message to the State was: your job is to make S. D. Warren obey the law.

At this meeting, the State and FOPR representatives repeatedly warned that if the State enforced the fishway law, Warren would sue and the case would be tied up in court for years. Therefore, the 'compromise' was the only viable solution. FOSL responded by demonstrating through a timeline that even if Warren appealed a fishway ruling to the Maine Supreme Court the fishway would be delayed at most by 2-3 years, meaning the fishway would be in operation by 2012-2013, which is exactly the timeline their own 'compromise' plan hoped for.

FOSL member Ted Tibbals told the State it was sending a terrible message to private, corporate dam owners, and to the people who own Maine's rivers (the public): if the State is afraid to enforce its own laws just because the dam owner might sue, these corporations will lose all respect for the law. Ted Tibbals called it what it was, a backroom shakedown by a multi-billion dollar corporation in the face of a cowering, weak-kneed State government. We asked: where is the spine?

Our concerns were summarized in formal comments submitted to the State in March, 2008.

When it appeared the State was determined to continue with its illegal 'compromise' agreement, FOSL made a formal notice under the Maine Right to Know Law for all public documents regarding the agreement including how it was negotiated. After much balking by the State, it agreed to turn over the documents in the spring of 2008. Simultaneously, FOSL circulated a lawsuit draft to the State in which we threatened to sue the State for violating state law for conducting these secret negotiations and to ask the court to throw out the negotiated settlement as illegally approved by the State Marine Resources Commissioner.

At the same time, FOSL researched the full legal ramifications of the 'compromise' agreement. It called for re-writing all five of the federal licenses and state permits issued to Warren for its five hydro dams on the river which had been issued in 2003. The agreement removed all of the hard and fast requirements at the dams and totally removed any requirements for fish passage ever at the Dundee Falls Dam, thus preventing any fish passage ever to Sebago Lake. As written, the agreement would have made it nearly impossible to ever get fish passage at Warren's dams above Saccarappa, which is only one mile above Cumberland Mills.

FOSL and FOPR had fought hard for these license requirements from 1998-2002, and they were already highly compromised by not including removal of any of the five dams (we both had requested Warren's three lowermost low-power dams be removed to restore critical habitat for native Atlantic salmon).

So now the State and FOPR were 'compromising a compromise' -- with Warren getting all the benefits and the river and public getting nothing. Same old story. Big corporation threatens the State, the State backs down, and the public, whom it works for is left high and dry. Not to mention the fish, who get nothing.

Then we learned we held a potent poison pill. Under the U.S. Clean Water Act, the State must issue "water quality certifications" when hydrodams are relicensed. These certifications were issued by the State for Warren's dams in 2003 and contain good, but not great, fish passage deadlines at Warren's five hydrodams on the Presumpscot. But at least they are well-defined and legally enforceable.

From 2003-2006, Warren challenged these state orders all the way to the Maine Supreme Court and then to the U.S. Supreme Court and lost every time. We even got a 9-0 decision from the U.S. Supreme Court. And now the State wanted to throw all of these winning decisions away. Allowing companies to break one law to cajole them to obey another law is not good public policy. But this was the path the State had embarked upon.

FOSL then realized that for the State's 'compromise' deal with Warren to go through, the State would have to re-write all of these water quality certification orders and we could appeal them to the Maine Board of Environmental Protection and the Maine Superior Court. The original orders were already on shaky legal ground under the Clean Water Act for being far too weak; and the changes the State wanted to make were totally illegal. Who said? The State said in 2003 when it issued the original orders requiring time-specific fish passage deadlines at all five dams. The State was now taking the same position S.D. Warren had in 2003 -- that there was no 'real' legal requirement for fish passage at S.D. Warren's Presumpscot River Dams. The State was forcing itself into a position of arguing with itself: a common occurrence at Sebago Lake.

So FOSL decided to pull the trigger. We told the State that if they continued to pursue their compromise settlement with S.D. Warren we would challenge any revision to the state water quality certifications issued in 2003 and would go to court if necessary. We knew this would kaibosh the State's secret sweetheart deal with Warren because they all knew what they were doing was illegal. [2]

In late spring of 2008, S.D. Warren announced without explanation it was abandoning the negotiated agreement.[3]

This forced the State back to Square One: using its powers under the State fishway law to compel Warren to let fish go past its dam at its expense. Last year the State ruled it had the authority to order Warren to build fishways; and on Oct. 5 of this year the State issued its final Order for Warren to build the fishways. Warren has said they will abide by the ruling.
[4]

So for all that rigamarole, FOSL turned out to be right. By the State doing its job of enforcing the laws on the books, Warren buckled, since it knew all along that it could not succeed in a court challenge. All the time, Warren was bluffing the State and the State, for a while, was willing to buckle until FOSL said no. Now, the Cumberland Mills Dam will have fish passage on the exact same time schedule as would have been provided by the State's plan of giving away to Warren all of the hard-fought gains the State had made in fishway requirements at the next five dams. We saved the State from itself.

So What About the Fish?

The Oct. 5, 2010 State Final Order says a fishway is required to be operational at Cumberland Mills Dam by May 1, 2013. The fishway is slated to be a "Denil" fishway which, according to our research, is a design that may not be easily used by American shad. [5]

Our review of the Commissioner's May 12, 2010 preliminary Order shows some disturbing details. Most important is that the multi-page Order does not contain a single mention of the Presumpscot River's most important native fish species, the Atlantic salmon. This is odd since in 1869, Charles Atkins, Maine's first Fisheries Commissioner, selected the Presumpscot as the first river to be restored in Maine because it was such as outstanding Atlantic salmon river. The 2010 Order's failure to even mention Atlantic salmon highlights and emphasizes a continuing bias and apathy against Atlantic salmon in the Presumpscot by Maine's fisheries agencies.

The truth is that Atlantic salmon have never left the Presumpscot River, even though people have spent the last 200 years doing almost everything imaginable to make them go extinct. There are likely a few Atlantic salmon in the lower Presumpscot and its tributaries below Westbrook right now spawning. In the 1970s, Maine Atlantic salmon biologists were shocked to find spawning salmon and wild baby salmon in the Piscataqua River, a small tributary of the lower Presumpscot in Falmouth several years after the head of tide Smelt Hill Dam had been breached. During this same period, anglers in Westbrook often caught large sea-run Atlantic salmon directly below S.D. Warren's mill in Westbrook at the base of the Cumberland Mills Dam.

Atlantic salmon are highly migratory fish and will often 'stray' from one river to another out of sheer curiosity and a search for suitable spawning habitat. Because the Presumpscot is now fully accessible from Casco Bay to Cumberland Mills it is possible in any year that several or more salmon from other Maine rivers will explore the Presumpscot and, finding it to their liking, decide to stay and spawn in the fall, thus beginning the process of their natural restoration to the river.

The fishway design proposed for Cumberland Mills Dam, a Denil fishway, is well known to be capable of use by Atlantic salmon. However, the Commissioner's Order states the fishway will only be operated from May 1 to July 15 of each year. This schedule is for alewives, blueback herring and American shad. This operation schedule is perfectly suitable for these species, since they all migrate upriver in the spring and early summer and then quickly spawn and go back down to sea. But Atlantic salmon spawn in late October and November.

In Maine, salmon may migrate upriver at any time from late April to October since they do not spawn until Halloween. Under the fishway operation schedule mandated in the 2010 Order, the fishway at Cumberland Mills will be totally shutdown on July 15 of each year. This would make it impossible for Atlantic salmon coming up the Presumpscot after July 15 from getting past Cumberland Mills. They will face, as they have for over a century, a completely impassable dam.

As important, adult Atlantic salmon have a penchant for going up rivers in the spring and then swimming back to tidewater a few weeks or a month later before finally going back upriver later in the season to prepare to spawn. Nobody knows why salmon do this, except they can, and except it might be in part because they do not have to reach their spawning grounds until Halloween. This means an Atlantic salmon that passes the Cumberland Mills Dam fishway in June may swim back down river a week later and upon returning in August or September find a dry fishway and a blank, impassable wall. [6]

This flaw in the Commissioner's Order is important because the Order has the force of law. It spells out in great detail what the dam owner, S.D. Warren, has to do and what it does not have to do. And by the plain language of the Order,Warren can shut down the fishway on July 15th of each year and not re-opened until May 1 of the next. This could all be fixed by the Order simply stating the fishway must be operated until November, which is done on all other Maine salmon rivers including the Androscoggin, Kennebec and Penobscot.

Why this omission? The short answer is that none of the state and federal fisheries agencies, or FOPR and American Rivers, appear to have any interest in ever restoring Atlantic salmon to the Presumpscot River or even allowing those Atlantic salmon who are naturally restoring the river to have a fighting chance at succeeding. Why is this? Myopia and amnesia.

So this is a really big problem.


View Larger Map
Saccarappa dam on left, Cumberland Mills dam in upper right.
The next dam on the Presumpscot is Saccarappa, about 1.25 miles upriver. Its federal license calls for fishways to be built within two years of when passage is built at Cumberland Mills. This two-year delay is stupid, because S.D. Warren owns both dams. All fish passed at Cumberland Mills in Spring 2013 will swim up to the base of Saccarappa in about one hour, not in two years. S.D. Warren should be building fishways at Saccarappa simultaneously with Cumberland Mills. They are a multi-billion dollar company and have known this time was coming since 2003. They fought the law and the law won.

First Presumpscot Fishway Built Since 1879

The Cumberland Mills Dam fishway will be the first built on the Presumpscot River since 1879. That's a long time.

In 1875, Maine's Fisheries Commissioner reported to the Maine Legislature:

"The first fishway on the Presumpscot was built by the Cumberland Mills, and finished this last spring. The plan of the fishway was by Mr. Charles G. Atkins, after a design by Robert G. Pike, Esq. of Middletown, Conn. Of its success, one may judge from the following extract from a letter of our genial friend, Mr. Hammond: 'I had supposed your fishways were intended for fishes in the upper walks of life, such as salmon, trout &c., &c.; but I find our new fishway is used by the mudsills, the suckers, the chubs, the pouts, even the lampreys. What is to be done about?' Our reply was that the 15th Amendment admitted all!

"Our esteemed friend, Hon. George Warren, who is something of what Harriet Martineau defined Daniel Webster, viz., 'a steam engine in breeches,' has given us an admirably built fishway at Saccarappa. Two have been constructed at that village; an excellent one by the "Westbrook Manufacturing Co." A fishway after design and plan of Mr. Atkins, has been promptly built over the dam at their works, by the Oriental Powder Mills, at Windham. Four others on the Presumpscot will be completed by the month of May, by Mr. Lindsey and Messrs. Holland & Law. Messrs. Dennison and Brown are building a factory at Little Falls. These gentlemen have assured us that the fishway ordered for their place will be completed by next spring."

In 1876, the Maine Fisheries Commissioner reported:

"The Presumpscot river may now be pronounced as accessible to salmon and alewives, as far as Mallison Falls dam. Everybody ostensibly connected with that property is bankrupt. To the County Attorney is referred the decision as to what course to pursue. Of the fishways already built on the river, there was more or less departure in all from accurate obedience to the plans furnished, and some alterations will be required before we shall accept them in the name of the State."

In 1879, the Commissioner reported:

"On the Presumpscot river, within the present year the chain of fishways has at last been completed. The old fishway at Mallison Falls, that was not built according to the original design and was utterly inadequate to its purpose, has been torn down and replaced by a new and efficient fishway. Other fishways on the river have been repaired and improved, and a fishway has been constructed over the new dam at Wescott's Falls, at the head of the river .... A large number of sea-salmon were placed in the headwaters of the Presumpscot River in 1876, but from our own observations and experience, there has been no expectance of the matured fish in the river until the spring of 1880 or 1881, at which time they will find fishways provided to them over all the dams between Lake Sebago and the ocean."

In 1880, the Commissioner reported:

"There are now eight fishways upon this [Presumpscot] river, a new one having been completed at 'Wescott's falls.' to allow the fish to pass the dam at the head of the river, the outlet of Sebago Lake. So that every dam upon the Presumpscot is provided with a fishway. Some much needed improvements have been made to the fishway at Cumberland Mills, and some improvements are required at the upper dam at the head of the river."

"On the Presumpscot, at its sources on Crooked River, a very great number of unusually large fish have been taken by poachers for the two or three last years. The exceptional size and number of the fish has given increased incitement to the nefarious practice of spearing on the spawning bed. The very remarkable size of these fish and their unwonted number, warrant the conclusion that they are sea salmon planted by us in the headwaters of the river at Norway and other tributaries of Sebago in past years. The first salmon fry were planted in the Presumpscot in 1875. A large fish of thirteen pounds was taken below the dam at the outlet of Sebago last June with hook and line. A man named Paul is now under arrest for spearing a fish weighing twenty-four pounds on Crooked river the middle of October. Several others have been arrested for spearing fish and there are also many other cases which will be prosecuted in due course. We feel warranted in the conclusion that most of these fish are results of our planting sea salmon, not only from the reasons we have assigned above, but from the added fact that we have now a series of eight good fishways on the Presumpscot river from Cumberland Mills to Sebago."

In 1895 the Commissioner reported:

"During the time covered by this report, fishways have been built, improved or repaired on the following rivers: -- Presumpscot, Georges, Penobscot, Orange and Aroostook."

And here the road ends.

What Happened After 1895?

In less than a decade (1875-1880) the Presumpscot River became the first 'restored' salmon and shad river in Maine and the first large river with functioning fishways all the way to its headwaters. Sea-run Atlantic salmon swam from Casco Bay in downtown Portland to Sebago Lake and the Crooked River for the first time since the 1730s. This was the most ambitious native fish restoration project ever undertaken in the history of the United States. And it was successful.

But by 1910 this restoration project was destroyed -- due to a new fad called hydroelectric power.

During the period 1900-1915, S.D. Warren built the enormous 50 foot high Dundee Dam on the river for hydroelectricity; the North Gorham Dam was raised to a great height, again for hydroelectricity. The Eel Weir Dam was built at the outlet of Sebago Lake for hydroelectricity. The old, low sawmill dams at Saccarappa, Mallison Falls, Little Falls and and Gambo Falls were all raised much higher and reconstructed with massive, concrete power canals to create hydroelectricity.

The wooden fishways which had been meticulously designed and built and repaired at the dams for the past 25 years were all dismantled and removed. The Dundee Dam was built with no fishways at all. In about 20 years, from the last Fisheries Commissioner report in in 1895 to 1915, the Presumpscot River had gone from fully passable to completely impassable.

Worse, the raising of the dams for hydropower flooded out all of the remaining free-flowing sections of the river; the short reaches between the dam spillways and the power canals were dewatered. Not a single record exists of how and why this happened.

The only witness for this destruction we have is from a man named William Converse Kendall, who wrote for the Boston Zoological Society two seminal scientific books on the salmon and trout of Maine. In 1917 Kendall wrote:

"Presumpscot River Jumper (Plate 9)

"Since the Jumper is now extinct and since salmon of similar peculiarities have been described from no other waters, it has seemed desirable to write a separate brief history of the fish.

"In the Presumpscot River, which is the outlet of Sebago Lake, the Sebago salmon used to breed and in the spring of the year, large well conditioned salmon were found in the stream. Later they disappeared. Prior to the erection of the dam at the head of the river, and later while the fishway was effective, most, if not all, of the salmon returned to the lake. In later years, the fishway having become impassible, some the fish continued to disappear, where to, no one knows. If they went to sea they doubtless would have been notice at the dams and mills lower down in the river. However, small salmon resided in the river year around. Until the new dam was built at the head of the river and the water diverted by a canal these small salmon, known as "Jumpers" were found in the upper part of the river below the dam at North Gorham.

"The large salmon were always distinguished from the so-called "Jumper." The local name 'jumper' was given to a small but very active fish of peculiar coloration., which attained a weight of at least three or four pounds, and which were also usually distinguised from the lake salmon of like size occuring in the river at the same time. Adolescent salmon, with their bright silvery scales, more pointed snout, subequal jaws, more forked tail, black crescentic and doubled X spots, and with or without red spots caught in the same locality were regarded as lake salmon.

The 'jumper' was more trout-like in form, had a blunter snout, included lower jaw, scarcely crescentic tail. It usually had no black spots but dark brown, chocolate colored and brick red or brown spots surrounded by brick red on the body, and always red spots along the side. The sides of the abdomen were usually brassy yellow. They were doubtless old fish of long-time residence in the river. They appear now to be extinct, the locality below the North Gorham dam having been more recently ruined by the erection of a dam farther down [Dundee Dam] which backs the still water nearly up to the North Gorham Dam."

Not A Single State Record Exists

Except for William Converse Kendall's description above, not a single state record exists describing what happened on the Presumpscot River when it was destroyed by a slew of new dams in the 1900-1915 era. This was confirmed by extensive historic research that I did in 2004-2005 for FOSL and FOPR at the Maine Archives and Maine Legislative Law Library while gathering legal documents to force S.D. Warren to build a fishway at the Cumberland Mills Dam.

In these archives are every law passed by Maine during this period and every single official report made by the state's Fisheries Commissioners to the Maine Legislature. After 1895 not a single mention is made of the Presumpscot River in these fisheries commissioner reports. It's as if the Presumpscot stopped flowing and fell off the map.

As part of this research, I found and tracked every iteration and revision of the state's fishway laws from 1869 to present. None of these revisions contained any amendments which exempted the Presumpscot River from the state's fishway laws. But there was a clue from 1913. Up until this year, the State of Maine required fishways to be maintained at all dams in the state on rivers native to salmon, shad and alewives. This was a mandatory requirement. In 1913 the Legislature repealed all of these laws, going back to 1869, and replaced them with a generic law stating that the State Commissioner of Fish & Game, at his discretion, could require fishways on dams.

This briefly worded law change was the death knell for the Presumpscot and Sebago and for rivers all over Maine. So long as the Fisheries Commissioner decided not to formally require a fishway to be built or maintained, then dams all across Maine could be impassable to fish. This change in the law allowed any dam owner to rip out the existing fishways at their dams, even if they were working perfectly. The law also 'grandfathered' in perpetuity all dams in Maine that lacked fishways. This is why there is no physical trace left of the large, carefully built timber fishways at the dams on the Presumpscot built and rebuilt between 1875 and 1895. The dam owners ripped out every shred of them once the state gave them legal license to do so in 1913.

1913 stands as the end of Maine's ambitious and highly successful 50-year effort to restore and maintain its native fisheries after the Civil War. After 1913 the State just gave up and the rivers became empty and silent.

Maine's current state fishway law is identical in substance to the 1913 law. My research, by reading every single Maine Fisheries Commissioners report from 1900 to present, found that since 1913 Maine's fisheries commissioners have almost never exercised their authority under the law to require fishways at dams. The last documented use of the state fishway law that I could find in state records was in the 1930s in Washington County, on an Atlantic salmon river, the Machias.

Why Has The Fishway Law Never Been Used?

Julius Caesar said at the Rubicon River, the die is cast. In 1913 the Maine Legislature said the same thing. In passing this 1913 law, Maine's Fish & Game Commissioner was given sole authority to require a fishway at any dam in Maine or to require its maintenance.

Only the dam owner can appeal an adverse decision in court. Maine citizens who want a fishway have no legal right to ask for a fishway or to ask an existing one be maintained. They can only write a letter politely asking the Fisheries Commissioner to exercise his authority to require a fishway or maintain one. And if the Commissioner declines, citizens have no legal recourse. All power is vested in the Fisheries Commissioner.

The fruit of this legal change became obvious in the 20th century. After 1913, the state almost never used its authority to order fishways at dams. Not because no fishways were needed -- the 20th century marked the total extirpation of the last remnant runs of sea-run fish in Maine's rivers due to impassable dams. By any metric, fish passage at dams was far better in the 19th century than in the 20th. Even though the state's Fisheries Commissioners have the legal authority to require fishways they refuse to use it, and refuse to use it today.

In the late 1960s, an Augusta, Maine couple, Gemma and Richard Dumont, wrote a letter asking the Maine's Fish & Game Commissioner, Rodney Speers, to use his powers under the state's fishway law to order the owners of the Edward Dam, at the head of tide on the Kennebec River, to build a fishway for salmon, shad and alewives. Mr. Speers ignored their letter. The Dumonts were not easily cowed. They hired a lawyer and filed a "Writ of Mandamus" in Kennebec County Superior Court asking the court to order Commissioner Speers to answer their letter. The court denied their request. The Dumonts took their complaint to the Maine Supreme Court.

In 1968, the Maine Supreme Court handed down one of the worst decisions it has ever written, Dumont v. Speers. In this ruling the Maine Supreme Court said the Maine Legislature had granted the Fish & Game Commissioner sole authority to decide whether or not to order a fishway at a dam. If the Commissioner decided not to order a fishway for any reason or for no reason at all, citizens like the Dumonts had no legal rights to challenge the decision. This 1968 Maine Supreme Court decision has rendered the state's fishway law non-functional. The evidence for this is that the Commissioner Martin's 2010 Order is the first time the state's fishway law has been used since before World War II.

2010: A Renaissance or Another False Hope?

It is important to closely examine what happened on the Presumpscot River from 1875 to 1900. In this just five years, the Maine Fisheries Commissioner succeeded in legally coercing all of the dam owners on the Presumpscot to build fishways at their dams. These fishways were maintained until at least 1900. Yet, even with full fish passage attained and sea-run Atlantic salmon spawning in the Crooked River for the first time since the 1730s, all of these achievements were wiped away and dashed by 1910 when all the fishways carefully designed by Charles Atkins were ripped down, new dams were built over the old dams and the river was shut off again to all of its sea-run fish.

Why should we believe Commissioner Martin's actions in 2010 will be less ephemeral than Commissioner Atkins' actions in 1875?

We can't. The reason is the Maine fishway law is terribly written. If he wants, Commissioner Martin can forget or refuse to enforce his 2010 Order at any time. This is exactly what happened in 1900. The Maine Commissioner of Fisheries in 1900, for reasons unknown, lost all interest in keeping fishways maintained on the Presumpscot or on any Maine river. So the dam owners ripped the fishways out or let them fall apart. Under the Maine's fishway law and Dumont v. Speers, nobody can sue the Maine Fisheries Commissioner to enforce this new 2010 Order. But the dam owner can sue to stop it at any time. This is how bad a law it is.

With the 2010 gubernatorial election, Commissioner Roland 'Danny' Martin will be out of a job in January 2011. A new Maine IF&W Commissioner will be appointed by a new Governor. In 2011 this new Commissioner can freely ignore Danny Martin's 2010 fishway Order. Nobody can stop her. This is because the state's fishway law is still governed by Dumont v. Speers.

Atlantic salmon can swim 25 miles in one day.

The distance between Casco Bay and Sebago Lake is about 21 miles. Adult Atlantic salmon can, if motivated, swim this distance in one day. This means a Presumpscot/Sebago Lake Atlantic salmon can swim from downtown Portland, Maine to Sebago Lake in one day. Once in Sebago, the salmon can swim into the cool waters of Sebago to feed on native rainbow smelt and prepare for its autumn journey up the Crooked River to spawn in the fall. This is what happened at Sebago for 11,000 years until the 1730s, and then the 1830s, and then the 1930s and now the 2010s.

Atlantic salmon would be spawning in the Crooked River tomorrow if the State of Maine would stop letting them be blocked by artificial dams. But the State of Maine has no interest in restoring Atlantic salmon to the Presumpscot River and Sebago Lake and the Crooked River. In fact, they actively oppose it.

The State of Maine has pretended to forget the entire natural history of the Atlantic salmon in the Presumpscot River and Sebago Lake. This takes an awful lot of pretending to forget. And since the State of Maine has access to all of the historical documentation that FOSL has (we gave it to them), this pretending to forget is not by accident.

Maine Did It In 5 years in 1875 -- Why Can't We Do It In 50 Years?

In just five years, from 1875-1880, fishways were built all the way from Casco Bay to Sebago Lake; and Atlantic salmon swam up these fishway into Sebago Lake and into the Crooked River where they spawned. That was 130 years ago.

Today, the best and most prominent scientific and legal "experts" tell us this is absolutely impossible. There is no way it can be done. To even think of it is ludicrous.

In 1875 the telephone nor electricity nor airplanes nor light bulbs existed. But in 1875, in just five years, the Maine Fisheries Commissioners got fishways built on the Presumpscot dams so as to allow Atlantic salmon swim from Casco Bay to Sebago Lake, a distance of 21 miles.

And now, in 2010, we are told this same feat cannot be done in less than 50 years, and may never be achieved.

How dumb have we become?


1. Our outreach efforts were hampered by the editorial staff of the Portland Press-Herald, who refused for two months to print our op/ed asking the State to hold a public meeting on the plan. The PPH staff told us they didn't believe the subject was 'newsworthy.'
2. We presented a more detailed narrative of these efforts in July 2008 in a story called "Presumpscot Dam Deal is Dead."
3. See the Portland Press-Herald story here.
4. The Portland Press-Herald has not even done a news story on this. But the Westbrook American Journal did on Oct. 13, which is how FOSL learned about it.
5 . See here. And here.
6. See Baum, E.T. 1997. Maine's Atlantic Salmon: A National Treasure at 22: "To complicate this matter further, Maine's salmon do not always migrate in an upstream direction. Returning to tidewater after migrating several miles upriver earlier in the year is common for an Atlantic salmon. They may migrate back into the same (or even a different) river later in the year."

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The Hockomock Swamp needs to be made a National Park

By Douglas Watts
Augusta, Maine
October, 2010

I say this in jest, only because it should not be said in jest, and because there is something perverse about me even feeling a bit reluctant about screaming it from the tree tops.

Despite 250 years of unsightly wounds, the Hockomock Swamp in Easton, Massachusetts is a natural treasure which should long ago have been made a National Park and should be made one today.

The only way the Hockomock Swamp has protected itself from annihilation is by being inaccessible to people. There are few ways to get into it without cursing yourself and getting mucky, filthy, briar scarred, totally soaking wet and eaten alive by mosquitoes. These facts keep us from appreciating the beauty of the Swamp. But sometimes, on certain special days, the Swamp lets us in and lets us soak in its brilliance.

One of the best ways to get into the heart of the Hockomock is through an old, abandoned dirt road which crosses the swamp from Raynham to West Bridgewater. We walked this dirt road on a brilliant warm fall day on Oct. 10, 2010 from Raynham to West Bridgewater and back, with a few side trips into the thickets.

We entered from Wilbur Street in Raynham, a well-marked side street at the Raynham water tank on Route 138. Go to its end, take a left at the T and follow the "dead end" sign to the Raynham water department pump station. The path begins at a couple of large boulders in a scrub of small trees and is only accessible by foot.

Here, as you walk in, you are descending into what had been a deep, wide bay of upper Glacial Lake Taunton, which had covered much of southeastern Mass. not long after the last Ice Age. As the lake slowly drained, it filled with sediment and vegetation, creating a flat forested swamp. The dirt road from Wilbur Street in Raynham crosses one of the widest and flattest parts of it. This dirt road was built, at ridiculous effort and expense in the late 1800s, by hauling in cartloads of gravel to raise it about five feet above the swamp for a mile and half or so.

Although rough granite culverts were installed beneath the road at irregular intervals, the road has always operated as a very shallow, porous earthen dam across the breadth of the Hockomock, from the high ground in Raynham and northeast to an adjoining high ground in West Bridgewater at Route 106. The swamp flows from west to east, perpendicular to the road.

Walking into the Hockomock from Raynham, you can see this because the swamp on the left side of the road berm (the 'upstream' side) is much wetter than the swamp on your right (the 'downstream' side). In fact, except in very dry times, on your left there is a constant pool of water between the trees and shrubs, and the water moves "up" the road alongside you as you walk. If you look closely at little jams of logs on your left, you can see the tiny waverings of current all moving northeast paralleling the road. The right hand side, the "downstream" side" is moist, but has no open patches of water. It's clear the road berm is acting as a shallow dam, and the water in the swamp, looking for the fastest way downhill must follow the berm as it trends northeasterly in the same direction you are walking.

On occasion you will see a pool of water on your right side that flows into the thicket to your right. These are small, now mostly buried and clogged granite culverts that let some water get through the berm and continue heading east. But in general, for the first 1/3rd mile the road berm forces all of the water in the swamp to move along the road and find a way to get through it. Since the berm is very permeable gravel, plenty of water seeps through it, especially when the swamp is swollen with rain, but the difference between the wet and dry sides of it is readily noticeable.

In this walk, keep an eye to your right, on the 'downstream' side. What you see is a virtually endless expanse of evenly spaced deciduous trees, 30-50 feet in height, with an understory of small green, leafy shrubs of about 4-10 feet in height. This is what I call the Hockomock Red Maple-Clethra swamp. The trees are the swamp red maple, Acer rubrum, the shrubs are the bottle brush or sweet pepper bush, Clethra alnifolia. When the conditions are right, these two plants dominate hundreds of acres of the Hockomock and create its most distinctive look. If you drive down Route 138 between Easton and Raynham at the towns' line and look on both sides, virtually every tree and shrub and leaf you see are these two species. [1]

As you walk down the abandoned dirt road, from your privileged, artificial elevation of five feet of the swamp's ground level, the view looks eerily similar to a well maintained town or city park. The well-spaced red maples rise with straight trunks and only branch and leaf out at their very tops, forming a uniform, yet open canopy just below the sky, with a pleasant but dense crowd of dark green plants hugging their lower trunks. Now and then you see high, gangly shrubs with bright red berries. These are native deciduous holly, not like the evergreen holly we are familiar with. Tim taught us this.

But when you walk off the berm onto the swamps level you are now at the height of the Clethra, which are as tall as you and their branches impede your sight and movement. You also notice there is no flat or level place you can step. You are always walking up or down one hump or clump of tree or shub roots off or or another. You realize there is no ground. No soil. No rocks. Everything your foot finds is a tree root. Everything you see is a tree root or one covered by fresh or rotted leaves. The whole place is made of tree roots and leaves, their fallen worker bees. And every tree and shrub to see, every Acer rubrum and Cletha Alnifolia, at least from the sense of direction, all look the same.

This is why it is so easy to get lost in the Hockomock and why it is so hard to get unlost. Once in it, you can't use landmarks to get out of it: there aren't any. You have to use sound and the sun. And sound is only due to the sound of highways, so that's cheating. Using the Sun is okay. Inside the middle of the Red Maple-Clethra part of the Hockomock there are no landmarks.

It all looks the same in every direction as far as you can see, which isn't that far, since you have to shimmy up the red maples for about 30 feet to get any view, and since they have no branches until 30 feet up, if you fall you will break your arm, leg or ankle you won't be able to get out and nobody will ever find you, so you will die. And not to mention mosquitoes. They were waiting for you, or more accurately, your large internal pool of blood that they can suck from to make thousands of babies.

Without trying to sound too sexist, the Hockomock represents the last bastion of manhood in New England. It is a scary and completely impenetrable and unforgiving place. For every show you've seen on the Discovery Channel about the perils of the Amazon or the Congo, the Hockomock is worse. I've watched grown men tear their own heads off rather than run naked through the Hockomock. Which is why I feel there is a need to protect it. Of course, men in Cat D-9 bulldozers could plow grooves through it; and yes an entire Armada of askeert men in air conditioned bulldozer cabs could make those grooves come together, in exchange for a paycheck, but they would not be caught dead walking through it.

What is more interesting, to me, is examining how the trees species differ even if you increase the water level of the Hockomock by just a few inches. As my brother Tim noticed, as soon you make a tiny gravel berm crossing and raise the deep part of the Hockomock by a foot, you see white oak trees and yellow birch trees and swamp white oak trees burst out of nowhere. If that elevation change is not there, you don't see them. If you lower the water elevation an inch you don't see Atlantic white cedars.

By going to and watching and observing and listening to places like the Hockomock Swamp we learn about science. We listen to the trees telling us stories. Very long and complicated stories, and sometimes, very simple stories. The Hockomock is a place where the trees will take time to sit down and talk to us and reveal their secrets. There is no sound in the Hockomock except the wind through the branches and the water through the trunks. Every thing we walk on and step on is made of trees. In the Hockomock we are walking on tree, breathing tree and hearing tree. In the Hockomock we are in the world of tree. Trees made the Hockomock. The Hockomock is made of trees. There is no rock, no soil, no grit, no mineral. Only tree. The water itself is stained root beer red from the tannin from the leaves of trees. All is from tree. Nothing in the swamp is not from tree.

On our walk back out toward Raynham, I espied in a very odd and treeless part of the swamp, an evergreen out a quarter mile in the open, immense slog. It towered over all the other trees. It was either a white pine or an Atlantic white cedar. I took a picture of its crown at maximum zoom. Upon home, and zooming it more, it is a giant Atlantic white cedar. I can tell by the shape of its needles and crown. It is about 60 feet tall and all by its lonesome.

In the red maple-clethra part of the Swamp, you don't see any cedars. Instead you see a uniform canopy of red maples which built raised beds for thousands of clethra beneath them. It seems people building long, narrow, earthen berms cross the swamp in the 1800s has favored the red maple and disfavored the Atlantic white cedar, which are extremely slow growing and very selective about where they grow.

[1] What is odd is that the red maple-clethra swamp where we walked is nearly identical to the swamp a mile 'upriver' west of Route 138 except there are no high bush blueberries, which are common as an understory species along with Clethra alnifolia. This absence is extremely odd and needs more investigation.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Using Aerial Photography to Locate Atlantic White Cedar Stands in the Hockomock Swamp, Easton Massachusetts


By Douglas Watts
Augusta, Maine
October, 2010

The Hockomock Swamp in Easton, Raynham, West Bridgewater, Bridgewater and Taunton, Massachusetts is still unexplored and unknown, except by occasional deer hunters. No scientific studies have ever been done to determine how much of the 6,000 acre swamp was logged in the 1700s and 1800s and how much of it was not.

For this reason, there are no published reports which establish the locations of Atlantic White Cedar stands in the Hockomock Swamp. I'm not certain if such maps even exist.

By correlating aerial photo surveys taken at different seasons (summer, fall, early spring) during the past 40 years these white cedar stands can be accurately located by vegetation coloration. These sources include Massachusetts GIS, satellite data from Google Maps and private aerial surveys done in the 1970s. [1]

These map data show three large cedar stands in the Hockomock. By far the largest is west of Route 138 in Taunton and Raynham behind the Raynham dog track, a second smaller stand is east of Maple St. at the extreme southeast corner of Easton, and a third stand is just west of Route 24 in Bridgewater. Smaller, isolated stands undoubtedly exist and can be seen on the maps.

Google Map aerial imagery of the Hockomock was all taken in full summer, making identification of tree stands by species problematic. However, Mass GIS imagery was taken in early spring, before deciduous trees had leafed out. This makes the Mass GIS imagery extremely useful to differentiate swamp red maple stands from Atlantic white cedar stands in the swamp.

Since large stands of white pine (Pinus strobus) are common on islands of higher ground in the swamp, the difference in coloration between known white pine stands and known white cedar stands in the same photographs is easily seen. The white pine stands are distinctly lighter and yellower green than the cedar stands, which are much more dark and bluish green. The white pine stands, which are only found on islands of higher ground in the swamp are easily identified by correlation to USGS topo maps of the swamp, for example, adjacent to the Easton Rod & Gun Club on Howard Street in Easton. Known white pine stands on the margins of the Hockomock Swamp provide additional color correlation between white pine islands and white cedar stands within the swamp in the same photograph.

As anyone familiar with the Hockomock knows, most of it is absolutely inpenetrable by foot or canoe or kayak. The entrance to white cedar stands are particularly well guarded by perpetually wetted puddles and pools and are impossibly obstructed by thickets of downed trees and live and dead shrubs that require you to climb over them repeatedly every few feet. And 100 billion mosquitoes. For these reasons it is not surprising nobody has tried to field map the swamp. Nobody has paid them enough.

The two principal tree species of the truly wetted portion of the Hockomock are the swamp red maple (Acer rubrum) and the Atlantic white cedar (Chamaecyparis thyoides). In general, Acer rubrum dominates the swamp, forming uniform stands of thousands of acres. Atlantic white cedar dominates the swamp in only three distinct and disparate locations. In terms of acreage, red maple is by far the dominant of the two in the swamp as a whole.

It further appears that human intervention has favored the red maple at the expense of the Atlantic white cedar. First, Atlantic white cedar were aggressively sought after and logged in the 1700s and 1800s in the swamp, far more than red maple. Second, road and railroad building through the swamp in the late 1800s appears to have altered water levels in ways that favor red maple over Atlantic white cedar.

This can best be seen in aerial imagery of the Swamp just west of Route 138 in Easton, where it is bisected southwest to northeast by the straight, raised berm of the Old Colony Railway Line. Behind the Raynham dog track, Atlantic white cedar are the dominant species to the west of the berm. But on the east of the berm, just 50-100 feet away, red maples are the only species. Cedars are completely absent. As viewed in the Mass GIS aerial images, the rail line appears to create a total boundary. To the west are cedars, to the east, only red maples.

Walking the rail bed it is easy to see why. The rail bed stands on a bed of imported gravel fill which raises it 10 feet above the level of the swamp. Water in the swamp flows from west to east, causing the berm to function as a giant earthen dam. To the east of the berm, "below" the dam, seasonal water levels are much lower. To the west, "above" the dam, they are much higher. Water flowing from the west must pass through a scattered number of old, narrow granite culverts or tunnels to continue moving eastward through the Swamp.

Because these culverts are few and far between (and are often clogged with debris), the water level on the west side of the Swamp is much higher, seasonally, than on the east side of the berm. It is proposed here that the alteration of the swamp's seasonal elevation by the construction of the berm in the late 1800s caused water conditions to the east of the berm to be unsuitable for cedar and favorable for red maple but kept water conditions on the west side of the berm suitable wet enough for cedar.

The best way to understand the Hockomock is to think of it as the Everglades. The Everglades is known as a 'river of grass', the Hockomock, though much smaller, is a 'river of trees.' The Hockomock is a glacial lake bottom, long filled in by vegetation and sediment and utterly flat. Water from the higher ground around its basin, from Lake Nippinicket to the south and all of the brooks and swamps from Easton and Norton and Sharon and Mansfield to the west and north all feed into it. Once all of these small brooks and rivulets hit the 'lake bottom' of the Hockomock, they spread out, creating the swamp and like, Moe of the Three Stooges said, "Spread out."

The spreading of the water from these dozens and dozens of brooks in a vast, flat sheet creates the Hockomock. Only at small pinch points, like at granite culverts put in at old road crossings in Easton and Raynham do the waters of the Hockomock briefly funnel and come together. Without these artificial pinch points, the sheet of water would stay wide. Eventually, all of the water in the Hockomock pours through a tiny indented notch in its soup bowl, called Nunketetest, the Town River, which becomes a 'regular' river that moves quickly down through West Bridgewater and Bridgewater to make the Titicut River (Taunton) until it, with the addition many other rivers, finally meet the ocean at Dighton and Segregansett to make Montaup (Mount Hope) Bay.

You might be wondering why all of this interest in Atlantic white cedar stands in the Hockomock. One small answer is that a very beautiful butterfly, the Hessel's Hairstreak, exists only in stands of Atlantic white cedar. It is a very rare butterfly and seldom seen. It is a species of 'special concern' in Massachusetts, primarily because its home, Atlantic white cedar swamps, have been almost totally destroyed in Easton and the U.S. by logging, draining and other abuses. The caterpillar of the Hessel's Hairstreak only eats the foliage of Atlantic white cedar trees.

The aerial photographs further show there is a large raised peat bog along Black Brook between Route 138 and Maple Streets in one of the most inaccessible parts of the Hockomock Swamp. This bog has never been documented.

View Larger Map


[1] In 1971 my dad, Allan E. Watts, asked a local pilot, Ed Chassis, to take him over Easton to get aerial photos of the town, especially its undeveloped places, in order to generate public support to preserve them. An aerial photo he took in Nov. 1971 from Route 24 in West Bridgewater toward the west and across the Hockomock clearly shows a large cedar swamp near the old Maple Street right of way between Raynham and West Bridgewater. Mass GIS aerial photos from the 1990s confirm the presence of this stand, even though it is almost totally impenetrable to access by foot. Finding this lost cedar swamp found by my dad 40 years ago in an airplane is the impetus for this investigation.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Dream of the Alewife

An alewife's lot in life's to be eaten.
But this fate quite a few
Are good at defeating.
So they swim way upstream
All to fulfill their dream
To have kids in a cove
Where the sun gently heats them.

-- Douglas Watts, 9/18/2010
Cushnoc, Kennebec River, Augusta, Maine.

Last Song for the Salmon

The salmon, the leaper
Is now just about gone.
Because the rapids that thundered
Are now still as ponds.
Concrete walls tall as prisons
Called dams keep them out.
Like mall parking lots
Where trees used to sprout.

And we sing our song for the salmon.

No one has an answer
No one has a plan.
We all know who did it
But we can't find the man.
He's hiding out somewhere
We choose not to see.
But he's always been standing
between you and me.

And we sing our song for the salmon.

I once waded a month
To put a hook in your mouth.
You had fought for an hour
When I pulled you out.
You died in my hands
And your eyes quietly closed.
What I felt I won't tell
What you thought no one knows.

And we sing our song for the salmon.

You were the last of your kind
And now I am too.
The last of my kind
To ever know you.
Like a dream disappears
Once you're awake
Like the branch that you bend
Is the one that you break.

And we sing our song for the salmon.

As the memories wash out
The ignorance flows.
In a flood down the river
To the ocean it goes.
If excuses were salmon
We'd have quite a few.
They'd be long as our legs
And wearing our clothes.

And we sing our song for the salmon.

If I was the river
And you were the fish.
I'd let you swim up and down me
And do as you wish.
Because without you
There's not much left of me
Just a long lonely ditch
Falling into the sea.

And we sing our song for the salmon.

We sing our song for the salmon.

So we sing our last song for the salmon.

-- Douglas Watts, 9/18/2010.
Cushnoc, Kennebec River, Augusta, Maine.

Monday, September 06, 2010

Two new Sonny Probe Songs

One Sonny Probe song recorded yesterday and one recorded in 1990. On both occasions I was listening to Lemon Jefferson a lot. He is very inspiring.

Flying Mister Johnson into Space.

Cuz I Am.