My family used to put in a canoe at the Nisqually Reach Nature Center boat ramp at the mouth of the Nisqually and float up Medicine Creek to I-5. The trick was to figure out how to put in about dinner, hit the bridge when the tide changed, and then float back- little or no paddling required if you did it right! With many of the dikes thankfully removed on the Refuge, it must be a different experience now. And the heron rookery is gone, too.
Oh My.... I knew exactly what was going to happen when you started this piece. In the early 1980s I lived in a small travel trailer behind my sisters house. The view was the North Weir Rock. Today, where the house was is now dug out to form a more natural area for fish and birds to rest.
But in the 80s it was a delight to watch the river there. The rock would be totally hidden at high tide but a visible end to navigation for most boats at low tide. One late night I had to shout at a rather large sailboat that had got under the Oxbow Bridge at low tide. They thought they were headed to the bay!! Instead they were headed to the rock. They got turned around thank god!!
Then there was the year the river froze. The tide went out and huge chunks of ice littered the banks for the day. What a sight!! If I could post a file here I would share my scan of some photos of my trailer, the river and that ice thing.
Oh well... great experiences on the Duwamish! Our Only River!
As usual you've constructed a fun and instructive essay derived from field experience! You might also consider a couple other things. Salt water is dense, so the salt water "wedge" flows upstream with the tide beneath the fresh water that is trying to flow to the sea. In many areas of the world, the river is a/the local source of drinking water, after considerable treatment we hope! Intakes have to be carefully located to avoid the saltier water and this position changes (is changing) with river flow and, of course, sea level!
The Hudson river, "tidal" as far north as Albany, is a good eastern USA example. Cheers!
David, Thanks for your note. Yeah, I hope to do a subsequent newsletter on tides that addresses the salt water issue. It's certainly a key part of the story.
Another great column on local phenomena that most people don't notice.
As a kid, I rock-hounded summers on the Bay of Fundy where the incoming tide, known as the tidal bore, would visibly flow up river with a wave front and you didn't want to get caught unaware.
Also, wondering if you've seen this as you described the same sentiment in this column. https://xkcd.com/3135/ "...tides are one of the weirdest and most sci-fi elements of life on earth"
Thanks for mentioning the "ice age"! Reminds me of the dramatic geology of Eastern Washington around Moses Lake - and the mighty Columbia. Not quite related to the Duwamish....
Cool! You can see from the graphs that the discharge rate, call it R, is the negative derivative of the river height h: R = -a*dh/dt, where a is a positive coupling constant to make the units work. You can also see that, as is almost always the case in practice, the numerical derivative of measured data is noisy!
Is there any accounts of how the Duwamish flowed and reacted to tidal influence before the demise of the Black River and straightening downstream?
I’ve also experienced strong winds on rivers that can slow progress. Not uncommon in tidal streams like Deception Pass or the dammed Columbia by Hood River where large (surfable) waves develop and push upstream. Both have Gorge like terrain that channel wind.
There’s two guys separately paddling sections of the US now that are experiencing opposing winds which are affecting their progress.
The last time I paddled the Duwamish was in 2023 to hand deliver a portion of my manuscript of Paddling the Salish Sea to my editor via kayak to Mountaineers Books on Harbor Island. She said that was a first via watercraft. I launched from near the CG station on Alaskan Way. I continued to eddy hop up stream to North Winds weir then had an easier glide back to Elliott Bay assisted by surfing a few tug wakes. Much like Austin’s description - definitely interesting both natural and industrial views and odd smells.
Good question. One thing we do know is that flooding in the Duwamish River valley (DRV) was problematic, particularly with spring run off, when Lake Washington was higher (as much as 7 feet, perhaps more). In this situation, the lake acted as a slow release sponge, letting water out more slowly than if it was simply a flood produced by excess precip, which resulted in the prolonged flooding in the DRV. This, in turn, had long prompted those in the DRV to call for more hydrologic control of LW, such as building a ship canal and locks and lowering the lake. How all of this related to the tides and how the tides affected pre-death of the Black River and pre-straightening, no clue. Great story about delivering your manuscript!
Todays piece recalls the two year adventure I had owning and operating a 12’ skiff on the Duwamish around 2017, 2018 during which I experienced the floating upriver on the tide phenomena you mentioned. Boating the Duwamish was every bit as scary as a blustery day crossing Elliott Bay in the 25’ boat I subsequently owned. In my tiny Duwmish Skiff (Annie, as in Dreamboat Annie), draft about 6”, i quickly decided a depth gague was going to be my friend as many rocks, shelves and unknown monsters lurked beneath the waters which rose and fell 10’ twice daily. There is a giant rock about the size of a VW Beetle under the I5 crossing right in mid channel. (Lesson, sometimes midchannel is not the safe deep part). upriver shelves of rock protrude from one side while sandbrs reach out from the other. Post fall rain and storm season logs and snags reach out or lay hidden inches under the surface. My best friend, Trip/Quimby B in college was killed by one on the Green river in 1972 and they terrified me in my tiny boat. In late September in the turning basin, the sea lions hunt salmon, shaking them and tossing them across the river, with blood dripping down their faces. What a brutal scene that was. soon thereafter the Duwamish owned the river with their stout aluminum boats and nets and hooks. Further upstream at the North Wind’s Wier are rapids and one must carefully time their crossing and plann the route to miss being scored upon the emerging rock or getting caught upstream at low tide. Further up is/was the horid stench of death from the rendering plant. Hold breath before approaching, power past at full throttle, and hope for the best. I made it as far as Southcenter once. I really wanted to go all the way to Auburn but learned that would require Magellanic planning and never did it. But I did walk it all the way.
Downriver from my berth at South Park the river was all industrial except for the bit around Kellog Island, another spot where one must carefully time be tide-villigant. Lotta cool birds there. And Big Boats, like Ships and Ocean sized boats. They make big wakes, wakes taller than my tiny craft was high. Proceed with caution. One of my favorite industrial spots was watching the giant magnet crane pull scrap metal from pile to pile. Tugboats are on my favorites list. I so want to spend a day on a tug. My second boat was named Scuffy after Scuffy the golden book tug who got lost floating downriver while his little boy owner tried to save him. (i think dad saved him in the end). I did venture out into elliott bay a very few times. In a tiny boat you can do down the main channel or down the eastside under the pilings into the east waterway where all of a sudden you are aside giant container ships. elliott bay is not a place to be in a tiny boat. if swells are 2 x displacement you should have turned around already. i stuck to the river which on a stormy day with wind and tide can create it’s own set of challenging swells.
My favorite memory is of a calm day between south park and the turning basin where with the motor at sort of minimum speed and trimmed and locked down, I stood on the center seat feet spread and steered the boat upriver and down the river just by leaning left and right. I’m sure the cormorants and gulls were shaking their heads. I miss Annie. I might get an Annie-II. The Duwamish never refuses an adventure.
Thanks for dipping your paddle into the science of a scenic and anthropcentric day trip on the Duwamish that I most highly reccommend to Seattlites. When we did it years ago, blind to tidal determinants that fortunently worked in our favor, it was a most memorable day trip. The coho were leaping, Boeing machinists were waving from windows, and silent steel behemoths towered over us in the harbor. For a few lucky years I had an early morning bicycle commute over the First Avenue Bridge, where the view looking down upriver kept my sense of wonder enlivened when the sight of native fishermen setting nets for the rising tide that most certainly lifted their boats (and my spirits) to think that the river will be here long after I'm gone.
In the story, you mention two things: When you pulled out of the Skagit onto the to await the incoming flood tide, you mentioned the aphorism “a rising tide lifts all boats” and you said you take this literally. Given your pull-out on the sand spit, I believe you should have said you take it “litorally”…🙂. Secondly, as a minor point, you mention the flat gradients of the rivers like the Duwamish. While the normal process of post-glacial erosion contributed to the flat gradients of these rivers, the massive mudflows released from Mount Rainier likely also contributed to these flattened hydraulic gradients.
Also nice to meet a someone who's humor is more grounded and ripe-arian than mine. And, good point about the Duwamish and the lahars from Rainier; they certainly have contributed to the low gradient.
My family used to put in a canoe at the Nisqually Reach Nature Center boat ramp at the mouth of the Nisqually and float up Medicine Creek to I-5. The trick was to figure out how to put in about dinner, hit the bridge when the tide changed, and then float back- little or no paddling required if you did it right! With many of the dikes thankfully removed on the Refuge, it must be a different experience now. And the heron rookery is gone, too.
One of the most amazing and intact surge plains is the mouth of the Chehalis River-Aberdeen up to at least Montesano! https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/5286ff5783b6447b8c9108f1752d5039
Tom, Thanks for sharing. Yeah, that area is amazing.
Great article, interesting as always.
The Severn bore in Bristol UK can get a big(ish) tidal wave that people try to surf - occasionally!
Would love to see such a bore!
Oh My.... I knew exactly what was going to happen when you started this piece. In the early 1980s I lived in a small travel trailer behind my sisters house. The view was the North Weir Rock. Today, where the house was is now dug out to form a more natural area for fish and birds to rest.
But in the 80s it was a delight to watch the river there. The rock would be totally hidden at high tide but a visible end to navigation for most boats at low tide. One late night I had to shout at a rather large sailboat that had got under the Oxbow Bridge at low tide. They thought they were headed to the bay!! Instead they were headed to the rock. They got turned around thank god!!
Then there was the year the river froze. The tide went out and huge chunks of ice littered the banks for the day. What a sight!! If I could post a file here I would share my scan of some photos of my trailer, the river and that ice thing.
Oh well... great experiences on the Duwamish! Our Only River!
David:
As usual you've constructed a fun and instructive essay derived from field experience! You might also consider a couple other things. Salt water is dense, so the salt water "wedge" flows upstream with the tide beneath the fresh water that is trying to flow to the sea. In many areas of the world, the river is a/the local source of drinking water, after considerable treatment we hope! Intakes have to be carefully located to avoid the saltier water and this position changes (is changing) with river flow and, of course, sea level!
The Hudson river, "tidal" as far north as Albany, is a good eastern USA example. Cheers!
David, Thanks for your note. Yeah, I hope to do a subsequent newsletter on tides that addresses the salt water issue. It's certainly a key part of the story.
Another great column on local phenomena that most people don't notice.
As a kid, I rock-hounded summers on the Bay of Fundy where the incoming tide, known as the tidal bore, would visibly flow up river with a wave front and you didn't want to get caught unaware.
Also, wondering if you've seen this as you described the same sentiment in this column. https://xkcd.com/3135/ "...tides are one of the weirdest and most sci-fi elements of life on earth"
Thanks for your kind words and for the link to the cartoon. No, I hadn't it and yes, that is a wonderful way to describe the tide.
Anytime you want to share more of river boating adventures, that would be lovely!
Thanks for mentioning the "ice age"! Reminds me of the dramatic geology of Eastern Washington around Moses Lake - and the mighty Columbia. Not quite related to the Duwamish....
Cool! You can see from the graphs that the discharge rate, call it R, is the negative derivative of the river height h: R = -a*dh/dt, where a is a positive coupling constant to make the units work. You can also see that, as is almost always the case in practice, the numerical derivative of measured data is noisy!
Is there any accounts of how the Duwamish flowed and reacted to tidal influence before the demise of the Black River and straightening downstream?
I’ve also experienced strong winds on rivers that can slow progress. Not uncommon in tidal streams like Deception Pass or the dammed Columbia by Hood River where large (surfable) waves develop and push upstream. Both have Gorge like terrain that channel wind.
There’s two guys separately paddling sections of the US now that are experiencing opposing winds which are affecting their progress.
The last time I paddled the Duwamish was in 2023 to hand deliver a portion of my manuscript of Paddling the Salish Sea to my editor via kayak to Mountaineers Books on Harbor Island. She said that was a first via watercraft. I launched from near the CG station on Alaskan Way. I continued to eddy hop up stream to North Winds weir then had an easier glide back to Elliott Bay assisted by surfing a few tug wakes. Much like Austin’s description - definitely interesting both natural and industrial views and odd smells.
Good question. One thing we do know is that flooding in the Duwamish River valley (DRV) was problematic, particularly with spring run off, when Lake Washington was higher (as much as 7 feet, perhaps more). In this situation, the lake acted as a slow release sponge, letting water out more slowly than if it was simply a flood produced by excess precip, which resulted in the prolonged flooding in the DRV. This, in turn, had long prompted those in the DRV to call for more hydrologic control of LW, such as building a ship canal and locks and lowering the lake. How all of this related to the tides and how the tides affected pre-death of the Black River and pre-straightening, no clue. Great story about delivering your manuscript!
Todays piece recalls the two year adventure I had owning and operating a 12’ skiff on the Duwamish around 2017, 2018 during which I experienced the floating upriver on the tide phenomena you mentioned. Boating the Duwamish was every bit as scary as a blustery day crossing Elliott Bay in the 25’ boat I subsequently owned. In my tiny Duwmish Skiff (Annie, as in Dreamboat Annie), draft about 6”, i quickly decided a depth gague was going to be my friend as many rocks, shelves and unknown monsters lurked beneath the waters which rose and fell 10’ twice daily. There is a giant rock about the size of a VW Beetle under the I5 crossing right in mid channel. (Lesson, sometimes midchannel is not the safe deep part). upriver shelves of rock protrude from one side while sandbrs reach out from the other. Post fall rain and storm season logs and snags reach out or lay hidden inches under the surface. My best friend, Trip/Quimby B in college was killed by one on the Green river in 1972 and they terrified me in my tiny boat. In late September in the turning basin, the sea lions hunt salmon, shaking them and tossing them across the river, with blood dripping down their faces. What a brutal scene that was. soon thereafter the Duwamish owned the river with their stout aluminum boats and nets and hooks. Further upstream at the North Wind’s Wier are rapids and one must carefully time their crossing and plann the route to miss being scored upon the emerging rock or getting caught upstream at low tide. Further up is/was the horid stench of death from the rendering plant. Hold breath before approaching, power past at full throttle, and hope for the best. I made it as far as Southcenter once. I really wanted to go all the way to Auburn but learned that would require Magellanic planning and never did it. But I did walk it all the way.
Downriver from my berth at South Park the river was all industrial except for the bit around Kellog Island, another spot where one must carefully time be tide-villigant. Lotta cool birds there. And Big Boats, like Ships and Ocean sized boats. They make big wakes, wakes taller than my tiny craft was high. Proceed with caution. One of my favorite industrial spots was watching the giant magnet crane pull scrap metal from pile to pile. Tugboats are on my favorites list. I so want to spend a day on a tug. My second boat was named Scuffy after Scuffy the golden book tug who got lost floating downriver while his little boy owner tried to save him. (i think dad saved him in the end). I did venture out into elliott bay a very few times. In a tiny boat you can do down the main channel or down the eastside under the pilings into the east waterway where all of a sudden you are aside giant container ships. elliott bay is not a place to be in a tiny boat. if swells are 2 x displacement you should have turned around already. i stuck to the river which on a stormy day with wind and tide can create it’s own set of challenging swells.
My favorite memory is of a calm day between south park and the turning basin where with the motor at sort of minimum speed and trimmed and locked down, I stood on the center seat feet spread and steered the boat upriver and down the river just by leaning left and right. I’m sure the cormorants and gulls were shaking their heads. I miss Annie. I might get an Annie-II. The Duwamish never refuses an adventure.
-a
Austin, Thanks for sharing. Great stories. Clearly rivers are always more complicated and compelling than we typically realize.
Thanks for dipping your paddle into the science of a scenic and anthropcentric day trip on the Duwamish that I most highly reccommend to Seattlites. When we did it years ago, blind to tidal determinants that fortunently worked in our favor, it was a most memorable day trip. The coho were leaping, Boeing machinists were waving from windows, and silent steel behemoths towered over us in the harbor. For a few lucky years I had an early morning bicycle commute over the First Avenue Bridge, where the view looking down upriver kept my sense of wonder enlivened when the sight of native fishermen setting nets for the rising tide that most certainly lifted their boats (and my spirits) to think that the river will be here long after I'm gone.
Yes, it is a lively river, human and more-than-human.
In the story, you mention two things: When you pulled out of the Skagit onto the to await the incoming flood tide, you mentioned the aphorism “a rising tide lifts all boats” and you said you take this literally. Given your pull-out on the sand spit, I believe you should have said you take it “litorally”…🙂. Secondly, as a minor point, you mention the flat gradients of the rivers like the Duwamish. While the normal process of post-glacial erosion contributed to the flat gradients of these rivers, the massive mudflows released from Mount Rainier likely also contributed to these flattened hydraulic gradients.
Also nice to meet a someone who's humor is more grounded and ripe-arian than mine. And, good point about the Duwamish and the lahars from Rainier; they certainly have contributed to the low gradient.
Looking forward to hearing your presentation tomorrow at the HL luncheon!
See you then!