I'm thoroughly enjoying the trip report and am looking forward to further instalments.
Mem just needs someone to bring him ice, he already has the beer.
Mem just needs someone to bring him ice, he already has the beer.
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Happy Mathematics Day! ❌📐♾️
A first-ever canoe trip across the State of Rhode Island
- Thread starter riverstrider
- Start date
Day 8: Post Office Lane, Westerly, RI to Barn Island Wildlife Refuge, North Stonington, CT
One more day on the river. When I woke up, I reflected on the challenges we had overcome. Honestly, it had not been as difficult as I thought it might be. The most significant challenge that we had experienced, other than some minor equipment problems, was the crazy-windy day we had encountered on Narragansett Bay on the second day. This had forced a hot, muggy, but not impossible portage down through the Port of Providence and into Cranston. Paddling upstream on the Pawtuxet had not been difficult, other than having to claw our way up grass-choked stretches of the South Branch Pawtuxet River. All of our campsites had been nice. heck, even the 10 mile walk from the Big River through two management areas to get to the Wood River, while tedious, turned out to be relatively easy, still leaving us more than enough time to get more than three miles down-river after reaching the Wood.
If four old guys like us could do it, I think anyone with some boating and camping experience could do it.
We packed up and dragged the boats to a small beach just upstream of the bridge, pushing off into the current under the blue skies of another sunny day.
This would be my first visit to this stretch of the Pawcatuck River and I was looking forward to it. The riverbanks were mostly steep and wooded, except near Boom Bridge Road a mile and a half in where we paddled past cows in a field. Our first cows of the trip! We also saw our first deer in this first segment.
Three miles downstream we came up to the old White Rock Dam.
Here, most of the river flow actually gets diverted into a former mill channel on river-left, with only a small amount of water leaking through the old gates of the dam. Water only ever flows over the spillway during floods. This dam is also being targeted by the Wood-Pawcatuck Watershed Association for removal in order to restore the former channel. Although anadromous fish can (and do) swim up the old mill channel, this stretch is long with continuous flow and some rapids, and only the strongest of fish make it.
After only a brief pause to look at the old dam, we headed between the walls of the former mill channel and rode the current all the way to where it eventually flows through a breach in the wall and re-enters the main channel.
The mill channel is wide and generally swift, with a couple eye-opening Class II rapids along the way. One has a play hole that is popular with local park-and-play whitewater kayakers.
Navigating the raceway:
Exiting to the main channel:
Below here, the river gets wider and flatter for a short ways.
We quickly passed under the Route 78 bridge and, soon after that, another small bridge, below which is the remains of the former “Stillman Dam”, now just a short, easy rapid. We ran it all the way down on the left with a lot less excitement than Dave would have liked for his video camera.
In no time, we were paddling into downtown Westerly and the start of the tidal portion of the river.
Soon after we passed the Route 1 bridge, and greeted some befuddled breakfast diners on the deck of The Bridge restaurant, we paddled up to the Town Boat Ramp where friends of ours from the RI Canoe and Kayak Association were waiting to greet us.
Approaching the Westerly Ramp:
I noticed the tide was high, which meant good news…no paddling against the tide the rest of the way. But I also noticed that the wind was kicking out of the south a bit. Ruh roh!
First was snack time and updating our RICKA peeps on our trip. RICKA President and kayaker Susan Engleman had invited some of the more experienced paddlers to join us for the final leg. Among them was Earl MacRae, an experienced kayaker, and an acquaintance of mine from the Branch River Whitewater Race days. Steve Brown also made his third appearance of the trip in his Bell Magic. Two other canoeists, Mike in a new Placid Flashfire and Will in a wood-canvas Pal, were ready to accompany us, as were the other kayakers, Tom, Lindsay and Lisa. I texted an editor at the Providence Journal, and Dave texted a reporter for the Westerly Sun so we could provide some estimated times of arrival.
The tide started receding and the wind started to grow, so we decided to shove off. I was a bit worried about Will trying to keep up in his Pal, and my fears were justified…he did not have enough weight in the bow to properly trim the boat, and he was being blown all over creation, so he ended up turning back after we started out. The rest of the crew hung in there, and after staying river left for a short bit, we crossed over river-right and decided to hug the shore the rest of the way.
The RICKA crew follows:
There is a lot of marine traffic, mostly personal but some commercial, on this stretch of river, so we had to keep out eye out for boat traffic and associated wakes. This was no real environment for an open canoe, but fortunately it wasn’t totally out of control as we inched our way southward the rest of the afternoon, taking short rest breaks in small coves out of the wind.
As we entered Little Narragansett Bay and turned westward, and then slightly northwest, we were paddling parallel to a main channel, and large boats were zipping by a little closer than I was entirely comfortable with. The village of Watch Hill, the barrier beaches of Napatree Point, and the Atlantic Ocean beyond, were visible on the horizon.
As we turned the final corner a few more degrees north on the compass, the boat ramp of Barn Island Wildlife Refuge came into view. The kayakers, and the canoeists with the fast canoes and no gear, turned it on a bit and went ahead, leaving us original four, and Tommy, to come in together.
The final quarter mile was a bit of a struggle. Thanks to the direction change, our trim was all out of whack. I swung my bucket to the back of the boat, but it only helped marginally. The others seemed to have more trouble than me (except Dave in his kayak, and he was staying behind to record the moment), and soon we were all spread out just dealing with the wind and following seas, headed for the promised land.
As we had prearranged, I landed first, followed in quick succession by Billy, Jim, Dave and Tommy. Woooo! I was pumped! It felt great to accomplish this trip, and the fact that it was such a nice trip at that made it so much sweeter.
Cheers!
A couple journalists and photographers were on hand to record the moment, and after Steve handed us some cold Otter Creek IPA’s (always thinking, that Steve) a few of us were occupied with hugging friends and relatives and then answering questions from reporters. I’m sure there were a few people at the boat ramp who had no clue what the heck was going on. But there was a good crowd there that did…including our number one fans Darren and Doreen, who showed up with their sign again!
Finally all the reporters left, the boats and gear were loaded, and we were headed back to The Bridge restaurant in Westerly to celebrate with good food, good beer, family and friends. Many a toast was made, and many a person was thanked.
I didn’t want to leave because I didn’t want it to end, but of course, everything must.
So here I am, having done a canoe trip no one else ever has, wondering who might be the first to do it south to north. All I have left is this story, the photos, Darren’s sign, and a long-lasting sense of accomplishment. Oh, and a Citation from the Rhode Island Senate. A lot of news stories. And probably my favorite, which arrived in the mail a few weeks later from my pal Matt Hopkinson, better known in canoe-camping circles as “Hal” from “The Adventures of Scooter and Hal”: a giant flask (I mean, GIANT flask”, labeled as the “Impressive Flask Award”, awarded to me by Hal for my accomplishment, and filled with Canadian whiskey.
The Impressive Flask Award...with normal flask for scale:
Also, a tip of the Tilley goes to Mike McCrea, who sent me another Menacing Duckhead beer coozie through our mutual bud Doug, aka “Scooter”.
Somewhere in my future I hope there is a book…because there is certainly a lot more to write about this trip than what I’ve shared here. We shall see.
Total miles for the day: 12.0
One more day on the river. When I woke up, I reflected on the challenges we had overcome. Honestly, it had not been as difficult as I thought it might be. The most significant challenge that we had experienced, other than some minor equipment problems, was the crazy-windy day we had encountered on Narragansett Bay on the second day. This had forced a hot, muggy, but not impossible portage down through the Port of Providence and into Cranston. Paddling upstream on the Pawtuxet had not been difficult, other than having to claw our way up grass-choked stretches of the South Branch Pawtuxet River. All of our campsites had been nice. heck, even the 10 mile walk from the Big River through two management areas to get to the Wood River, while tedious, turned out to be relatively easy, still leaving us more than enough time to get more than three miles down-river after reaching the Wood.
If four old guys like us could do it, I think anyone with some boating and camping experience could do it.
We packed up and dragged the boats to a small beach just upstream of the bridge, pushing off into the current under the blue skies of another sunny day.
This would be my first visit to this stretch of the Pawcatuck River and I was looking forward to it. The riverbanks were mostly steep and wooded, except near Boom Bridge Road a mile and a half in where we paddled past cows in a field. Our first cows of the trip! We also saw our first deer in this first segment.
Three miles downstream we came up to the old White Rock Dam.
Here, most of the river flow actually gets diverted into a former mill channel on river-left, with only a small amount of water leaking through the old gates of the dam. Water only ever flows over the spillway during floods. This dam is also being targeted by the Wood-Pawcatuck Watershed Association for removal in order to restore the former channel. Although anadromous fish can (and do) swim up the old mill channel, this stretch is long with continuous flow and some rapids, and only the strongest of fish make it.
After only a brief pause to look at the old dam, we headed between the walls of the former mill channel and rode the current all the way to where it eventually flows through a breach in the wall and re-enters the main channel.
The mill channel is wide and generally swift, with a couple eye-opening Class II rapids along the way. One has a play hole that is popular with local park-and-play whitewater kayakers.
Navigating the raceway:
Exiting to the main channel:
Below here, the river gets wider and flatter for a short ways.
We quickly passed under the Route 78 bridge and, soon after that, another small bridge, below which is the remains of the former “Stillman Dam”, now just a short, easy rapid. We ran it all the way down on the left with a lot less excitement than Dave would have liked for his video camera.
In no time, we were paddling into downtown Westerly and the start of the tidal portion of the river.
Soon after we passed the Route 1 bridge, and greeted some befuddled breakfast diners on the deck of The Bridge restaurant, we paddled up to the Town Boat Ramp where friends of ours from the RI Canoe and Kayak Association were waiting to greet us.
Approaching the Westerly Ramp:
I noticed the tide was high, which meant good news…no paddling against the tide the rest of the way. But I also noticed that the wind was kicking out of the south a bit. Ruh roh!
First was snack time and updating our RICKA peeps on our trip. RICKA President and kayaker Susan Engleman had invited some of the more experienced paddlers to join us for the final leg. Among them was Earl MacRae, an experienced kayaker, and an acquaintance of mine from the Branch River Whitewater Race days. Steve Brown also made his third appearance of the trip in his Bell Magic. Two other canoeists, Mike in a new Placid Flashfire and Will in a wood-canvas Pal, were ready to accompany us, as were the other kayakers, Tom, Lindsay and Lisa. I texted an editor at the Providence Journal, and Dave texted a reporter for the Westerly Sun so we could provide some estimated times of arrival.
The tide started receding and the wind started to grow, so we decided to shove off. I was a bit worried about Will trying to keep up in his Pal, and my fears were justified…he did not have enough weight in the bow to properly trim the boat, and he was being blown all over creation, so he ended up turning back after we started out. The rest of the crew hung in there, and after staying river left for a short bit, we crossed over river-right and decided to hug the shore the rest of the way.
The RICKA crew follows:
There is a lot of marine traffic, mostly personal but some commercial, on this stretch of river, so we had to keep out eye out for boat traffic and associated wakes. This was no real environment for an open canoe, but fortunately it wasn’t totally out of control as we inched our way southward the rest of the afternoon, taking short rest breaks in small coves out of the wind.
As we entered Little Narragansett Bay and turned westward, and then slightly northwest, we were paddling parallel to a main channel, and large boats were zipping by a little closer than I was entirely comfortable with. The village of Watch Hill, the barrier beaches of Napatree Point, and the Atlantic Ocean beyond, were visible on the horizon.
As we turned the final corner a few more degrees north on the compass, the boat ramp of Barn Island Wildlife Refuge came into view. The kayakers, and the canoeists with the fast canoes and no gear, turned it on a bit and went ahead, leaving us original four, and Tommy, to come in together.
The final quarter mile was a bit of a struggle. Thanks to the direction change, our trim was all out of whack. I swung my bucket to the back of the boat, but it only helped marginally. The others seemed to have more trouble than me (except Dave in his kayak, and he was staying behind to record the moment), and soon we were all spread out just dealing with the wind and following seas, headed for the promised land.
As we had prearranged, I landed first, followed in quick succession by Billy, Jim, Dave and Tommy. Woooo! I was pumped! It felt great to accomplish this trip, and the fact that it was such a nice trip at that made it so much sweeter.
Cheers!
A couple journalists and photographers were on hand to record the moment, and after Steve handed us some cold Otter Creek IPA’s (always thinking, that Steve) a few of us were occupied with hugging friends and relatives and then answering questions from reporters. I’m sure there were a few people at the boat ramp who had no clue what the heck was going on. But there was a good crowd there that did…including our number one fans Darren and Doreen, who showed up with their sign again!
Finally all the reporters left, the boats and gear were loaded, and we were headed back to The Bridge restaurant in Westerly to celebrate with good food, good beer, family and friends. Many a toast was made, and many a person was thanked.
I didn’t want to leave because I didn’t want it to end, but of course, everything must.
So here I am, having done a canoe trip no one else ever has, wondering who might be the first to do it south to north. All I have left is this story, the photos, Darren’s sign, and a long-lasting sense of accomplishment. Oh, and a Citation from the Rhode Island Senate. A lot of news stories. And probably my favorite, which arrived in the mail a few weeks later from my pal Matt Hopkinson, better known in canoe-camping circles as “Hal” from “The Adventures of Scooter and Hal”: a giant flask (I mean, GIANT flask”, labeled as the “Impressive Flask Award”, awarded to me by Hal for my accomplishment, and filled with Canadian whiskey.
The Impressive Flask Award...with normal flask for scale:
Also, a tip of the Tilley goes to Mike McCrea, who sent me another Menacing Duckhead beer coozie through our mutual bud Doug, aka “Scooter”.
Somewhere in my future I hope there is a book…because there is certainly a lot more to write about this trip than what I’ve shared here. We shall see.
Total miles for the day: 12.0
