Plastics

Greetings, Reader,

A bit about the environment, if I may?

Covering 240 miles in eight days affords one the opportunity of close observation of one’s surroundings, and in that this row enabled me to crest the magic “1,000 mile” mark in my sojourns over the last four years, I think I now have some experiential perspective for my observations.

In ’06, for example, I was delighted at the apparent quality of the Hudson River and its shores. It is turbid as most moving bodies of water are, but I saw very, very little solid debris in the water or adorning the shores. I even got a lecture from a kid in Peeekskill “not to throw that bottle into our river,” a harangue I gratefully accepted and took to be a promising sign of the next generation’s stewardship of that body of water.Even the Jersey Shore looked good in ‘06; the inland waterway was pretty clear of trash and accrued plastics, perhaps because so many people call it home and have no appetite for living among their throw-aways.

I wish I could report the same about the Potomac.

Over the last three days of my row I hugged the Maryland side, primarily to stay out of a mean crosswind. By and large - perhaps because of lower, swampier terrain, perhaps because of economics or land access- it seems that the Maryland side is much less developed than the Virginia shore. This being said, I was appalled at the state of vast undeveloped stretches I paddled along; for mile after mile, as I gazed at the shore not ten feet away, I could not take more than two strokes without seeing evidence of our throw-away society: plastic bottles, tops, cans, bags, foil wrappers, cups, tires, wading pools, and shoes. Walk any aisle of a supermarket and you’ll see what I saw…stuff that will outlive us all and sully the environment for decades. At times, perhaps because of prevailing currents and wave action, the debris was piled up so thickly on the shore that the environment itself was out of view. This stuff is there forever, and as it slowly degrades it will simply take another form and integrate itself into the food chain. If that rockfish seems a tad oily or granular, it’s probably not something that the chef added.

These miles of trash were a depressing sight indeed and had I been empowered to make a single public policy decree upon my arrival in Washington, it would be, “No more plastic! Enough! We’re done! Find another way! Refill a glass bottle with tap water, carry your own cloth bag to the supermarket, and buy unprocessed, fresh foods! “Lunchables” may be a cute and convenient idea, but the thinking behind it has profound implications for our great grandkids. Find another way! ”

“Plastics.” It was the advice of promise in “The Graduate”. Today, it’s a disgraceful legacy.

As I rowed the lower stretches of the Potomac I surmised that unlike the Hudson, the major population centers of this river are located well upstream: DC, Alexandria, Georgetown, Fairfax…millions of people live right at the headwaters of the main body of the river, and the 110 miles of shoreline below them bear tragic evidence of their (our) consumptive ways. The detritus is out of sight and the shoreline below the population centers seems to act as a kind of plastic-attracting Velcro, capturing some (but certainly not all) of what reaches the water. My hat is off to Pete Seeger and the host of environmental organizations that have made such a difference on the Hudson. I wonder if there is such an initiative – or even outrage and sense of urgency – regarding the Potomac?

One Chesapeake creature which seems to be thriving is the ray. I don’t know what kind of ray I met, but I met hundreds…maybe thousands…of them. At one point on Day Two, while rowing in very shallow water, I became enmeshed in a “school” (flock? pack? pod? Who knows?) so thick that I had to stop rowing for fear of hitting them on their little heads with my oars, they were flapping their “wings” in excitement, bumping into the hull…this “ray stew” was both thrilling and a little unnerving. I and they drifted as a unit for a while, and then they flapped off to the stern and I was free. Cool little fellows…on their way to be big fellows? I’ll have to read up.

One other "all-natural" natural highlight was an apparently thriving osprey population. These magnificent birds build impressive nests of substantial sticks on top of virtually any remote, isolated horizontal surface; navigational signs and dead shoreline trees are their favorites. They’d be frantic at my approach, leaving the nest, cawing wildly, and swooping at me with talons outstretched to warn me off. At one point I duct-taped my floppy hat to my head thinking that if they grabbed it, I‘d have to stop and look for a replacement (a floppy hat in the blazing sun is a “mission critical” piece of equipment). Yet I soon had a recurring image of one of these burly birds snagging not just the hat but ripping off the head taped to it as well…and I parked the duct tape gambit. I saw five ot so Bald Eagles, but they were always at rest. Waiting. Watching. Our national bird.

So, kids, ditch the plastic. We adults haven’t, and it’s going to cost you dearly. Sad, but oh-so true.

Latah!

Mr. Frei