Voice of the Rivers 2008

May 27. Carrilea Potter. Some days the time spent paddling is filled with conversation; other times you will find us lost in thought. This morning, though, we spent a lot of time paddling along the river bank just soaking in all that was around us. The river is narrower now and the vegetation is thick along the banks. The accessible beaches to pull off on for break are much scarcer now. The stretch of river we paddled this morning was shallow, the water was clear and the bottom visible. As we paddled along, turtles darted in and out of the river flora trying to hide; you could see them everywhere! As you looked down into the water, fish were within feet of the boat. We finally saw our first alligator today as well as a bald eagle. The bald cypress trees on the banks are beautiful and we are starting to see some Spanish moss, a staple of the deep south. Around one bend of the river the smell of a paper mill began to fill the air; it was quite unpleasant. There was a run down wooden structure with warm, brown, awful smelling water just pouring in the river. It was waste from the paper mill. As we got closer the brown, sulfur-smelling water began to disperse and darken the rest of the river. It was upsetting to watch the clean water we have been traveling for the last 10 days disappear. We paddled about 12 miles to New Savannah Bluff lock and dam, where we enjoyed a nice long lunch break at a near by picnic area. I think it is fair to say we were all relieved after we portaged our last of 9 dams. We spent some time in the shade, resting, and reading and trying to escape the scorching sun and the hottest few hours of the day. After the portage and a nice dip in the cool water, we had about 13 miles to paddle to reach our campsite at Silver Bluff landing. To be honest, the paddle this afternoon was tough. Between the heat, exhaustion and sore bodies, it took a good water fight at the end of the day to raise the spirit of the group.

Camp was really tight quarters tonight, there was only a small grassy area with all of the tents right next to each other. Some of us were scared to wander far for there had been multiple sightings of copperheads in the neighboring area. As darkness came, we circled up on a small sandy beach right on the edge of the river for class and a delicious meal of gado gado. Dr. Chamlee led a group discussion on Edward Abbey’s Down the River with Henry Thoreau. Our conversation eventually led to the topic of whether we felt guilty for being out here. We have been given a wonderful opportunity, the luxury of available time, and our nice equipment. Should we feel guilty since there are some many people in this world that are underprivileged and we are out here enjoying the wilderness? Abbey says no. Some of us agree and others not so much, but the thing I found so great about our discussion was it no longer felt like we were in class. But rather a group of friends engaging in a heartfelt conversation.
The river was calm, with a slow moving current. The surface was smooth, you could see a perfect silhouette of the trees and the reflection of the stars. With all of our lights off we laid on the beach, the cool night air was filled with lightening bugs, more than I can ever remember seeing, and the stars in the sky seemed to go on in the darkness forever. What a beautiful moment it was.