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August 13, 1998 - A Downs Creek paddle back in time8A • The Suffolk Times August 13, 1998 A Downs Creek paddle back in time I'M SURE THERE HAVE BEEN OCCA- sions when some of you wondered what it would be like to be a certain person or to have been at a certain place at a certain time or what it FOCUS felt like to do this or that. Well, ON I have my own NATURE special wonder and that is, I by Paul wonder what it Stoutenburgh was like here on the East End before the colonists arrived, when the Corchaugs romped our woods, creeks and bays. Bill Golder's book "Long Island's First Inhabitants" gives us a pretty good idea of what it was like in those early days of native American life. So with its contents under my belt, I approached Barbara with the idea that we should paddle up Downs Creek in Cutchogue to try to grasp the essence of that time when Fort Corchaug stood on its west bank. It didn't take much persuasion to convince her and we soon had our grandson's yellow Keowee 2 kayak in back of the pickup heading for Downs Creek. We parked at the little bridge that goes over the creek on New Suffolk Avenue. Our truck brushed up against huge clumps of bayberry. I always have to pick a few of those waxy gray BB -size berries to crush between my fingers to release that wonderful spicy smell. No wonder bayberry candles are so popular. The creek is named Downs Creek after the Downs family farm that once flourished at the head of the creek. I can remember the farmhouse and the barn with its wooden water tower. Each spring we. would stop to buy our asparagus there. It would be brought in from the fields, washed and the bot- toms cut evenly while tightly held together in a special asparagus clamp. Then the whole bundle was tied, and what a bundle it would be. You could put two of today's store - bought bun- dles into one of those old- fashioned bunches. Today all that remains of that once - elegant farm are fond mem- ories and some old rotten timbers here and there. We walked the kayak down the bank, slipping and sloshing in the wet bog until we were down to the water's edge. The tide was half out, which told us we'd have to move right along oth- erwise we'd be stranded in the shallow Suffolk Times photo by Peter Stoutenburgh These mostly freshwater snapping turtles are nothing to fool with. They grow to huge sizes and their bites can be dangerous. Each year we see them moving about our backyards, golf courses, roads, etc. looking for a sandy place to lay their ping pong -ball size eggs. waters of the creek later on. As we shoved off we could see white blotch- es in the trees ahead. As we got closer we made them out to be great white egrets roosting. They were waiting for the proper tide and time of day before they dropped down to the water's edge to do their hunting of killies or anything else that might move below their piercing eyes and dagger -like bills. The most noticeable thing about our quiet paddling was the height of the thatch grass (alterniflora) that lined the shore. Here it towered above us telling us it was well fed by the nutrient -laden waters of the creek. Stewards line the creek As we paddled northward we could see only a few homes nestled along the east side, the only visible signs of civilization. They were so well land- scaped that they blended in beautiful- ly with the natural surroundings. They had avoided the temptation of putting lawns to the water's edge, thereby sav- ing the creek from harmful runoff of pesticides and fertilizers. My hat's off to them for such good planning. The only other building was the weathered old studio of maestro Douglas Moore, who years ago was one of America's foremost composers. His home looked out over the untouched marsh, where in its soli- "THE PERFECT BIRTHDAY PARR PLACE FOR KI05" Enjoy our private birthday party room, 18 -hole miniature golf course, video and game arcade. A _COME PARTY WITH U5 Make your reservations today Drossos SNACK BAR AND MINI GOLF Route 25, Main Road, Greenport 477 -1339 Party Packages Available. tude the thoughts and inspirations for his music were created. As head of Columbia's School of Music he was well equipped to guide many budding composers on their way to fame and glory. One such protege was John Kander, who composed the music for "Cabaret" one summer in our home while we were on vacation. Today the studio is deserted and boarded up, a quiet reminder of a great man. Further up we could see in the dis- tance golfers from the country club. Here, too, the greens were buffered by natural grasses and shrubs, a hope- ful sign that people are starting to realize that �v. ... good ecological: planning can benefit every- one. The bank we were follow- ing as we pad 3'v died along was r lined with typi- cal rib mussels. F '' Around one bend we scared up a night heron that had been feeding in the marsh. Years ago these night hunters of our marsh edge nested in small rookeries along many of our creeks, but today most creeks have been taken over by homes and the night herons have left for the quieter islands to our east. As the creek narrowed, we started to see a change take over in the bog edge. The rib mussels disappeared due to a change in salinity. Now the water was becoming more fresh than salt. The further north. we paddled, the more pronounced the change. At one point I put my finger in and tast- ed the water. It was sweet, fresh water. The outgoing tide had flushed all the salt water out and now only sweet, cool groundwater flowed. At one point we stopped to inspect a grassy slope and found an antique spring water barrel showing just above the surface of the water. I'm sure it was the remains of a farmer's watering trough where he had taken advantage of a freshwater spring. It looked like a round wooden hollow tree trunk 12 to 14 inches in diameter. I put my hand down through the muck and ooze that had accumulated through the years and, elbow -deep, felt the cold water from the spring below. Sludge and mud had clogged its flow. In those early days the farmer's cows and horses were turned loose in the woods and fields to fend for themselves and fatten up for the winter. Naturally water was important for the stock and the ingenious farmer had devised this spring -fed method of making sure there was an ample sup- ply fed by his bucket -like watering hole. It was a step back in history. We are told one of the reasons the Corchaugs chose Downs Creek for their fort was because of the good spring waters along its banks. Corchaug life on the creek We could almost see this creek area busy with Corchaugs doing their respective jobs of hunting, collecting shellfish, fishing and tending fires with their clay pots boiling. We pressed on past what we thought could be the Fort Corchaug area, for there were no visible signs of it. The creek got nar- rower and narrower, so much so we couldn't use our double -ended pad- dles and had to take them apart to be used as single paddles. Time and time again we'd see snapping turtles asleep or scurrying below us in the now -fresh water. Their presence was one more sign that the area was changing from salt to fresh. By now phragmites or plume grass that also requires fresh water had moved in and towered 10 feet above us. We were having trouble maneuvering. At one spot on a muddy bank a small shorebird landed. We stopped paddling and drifted up toward it ever so quietly and still. It held its ground and we both stared at this tiny bit of fluff now only 10 feet away. This least sandpiper had been to the vast reach- es of the Arctic, raised its family and now was headed back toward South America, stopping on its way to refu- el. It was a magic moment. Tall grass closed in on both sides. Bright sun glittered all about. The sandpiper stared at us unafraid, never before having seen anything quite like this. Everything was at a standstill as that tiny black eye told us our search for Fort Corchaug would be well remem- bered. We found a break in the narrow passage where we could turn around. Every once in a while we were starting to touch bottom, which told us we should retrace our steps or we'd be stuck here at low tide. We had trav- eled a waterway that the Corchaugs had once traveled. Only a few well - placed homes could be seen on this whole creek edge. True, before roads and bridges were built the creek was wider and deeper but its general char- acter is still the same. Now with the help of the town and the stewardship that Peconic Land Trust can give, it looks like Downs Creek where Fort Corchaug once stood will remain unspoiled for a long time. Preschool space open ORIENT — Orient Congregational Church Playschool still has fall semester openings for three -year- olds. Call 323 -2665. .