Chapter 11- The River
Herkimer to Lock 18
Discovery: A Central New York
Treasure
The Mohawk River and Barge (Erie) Canal part ways at Herkimer and meet
again below Lock 18. The river flows relatively straight for 1.5 miles
before picking up the waters of West Canada Creek. From there to the lower
end of Lock 18 it widens and meanders for 2.5 miles around islands and
bars created by the outflow of the Mohawk's largest tributary. This almost
pristine stretch of river couched between the railroad on the north and
Lock 18 (Plantation) Island on the south is a Central New York treasure.
June 18, 2001 70 degrees, clear blue sky
It was 8:30 a.m. when we carried the canoes down the riprap bank just
downstream from the Herkimer Dam. It took a half-hour to set up this one-way
trip: canoes and gear at the launch site and vehicles at the takeout. It's
much easier to launch at the Washington St. Fishermen's Park, but that's
almost a mile downstream, and I wanted to cover the entire stretch. Besides
we all wanted to fish the oxygen-rich waters below the dam.
Our discovery crew consisted of Ron Gugnacki and
John Pitarresi in one canoe and Bob McNitt and me in the other. Both Ron
and John are from the Utica area and have fished the Mohawk River and Canal
many times over the years. Bob, on the other hand, is much more familiar
with the waters near his home in Norwich. I've learned something about
fishing from each of them.
While Ron and John fished the waters near the bottom of the dam, Bob and
I hung back long enough to take photographs while there was still an early
morning sun. When 15 minutes of casting plugs and jigs produced zippo below
the dam, we let the canoes drift downstream into a muddy stretch of water.
Ron and John drifted down the right side of the
river and Bob and I took the left side. The riverbanks in this area are
lined with willow, cottonwood, soft maple and boxelder. The downy seeds
of one or more of these trees dotted the river, sometimes gathering into
cotton-like balls that floated down the river.
Six mallards that were floating under overhanging
branches jumped off the river and disappeared above the trees. Just downstream
a kingfisher scolded from a willow branch and flew downstream, and a wood
duck hen with five ducklings swam along the shoreline right past our canoe.
While we were watching wildlife, Ron and John were
catching smallmouth bass. They had each taken fish by casting the shoreline
on the south side of the river.
We were under the Thruway Bridge at 9 o'clock and
five minutes later passed the Washington St. Bridge and the Fishermen's
Park. From there on the Mohawk is a wild place.
With
the other canoe far behind, we beached our canoe at the upper end of a
large island, intending to fish a series of riffs, small rapids
and pools. A great blue heron objected to our presence and flew downstream.
Bob waded down the left side of the island and I took the other side. The
pool and run on my side were much too shallow to hold fish, so I went back
for the canoe and floated it downstream to meet Bob at the lower end of
the island. Halfway down the island, I heard splashing behind me. Bob had
also gone back for the canoe. He had caught a bass, but the river was too
deep to wade and the vegetation on the island too thick to walk through.
Bob fishes a run and pool near one of the many islands on this stretch of the river.
At 10 o'clock we met the other canoe at the mouth
of West Canada Creek, paddled upstream and beached at the lower end of
an island where yellow flag were in full bloom. While the others fished
the waters around islands, I waded up to the railroad bridge where a deep,
rocky run of crystal clear water looked ideal for bass or trout. I caught
nothing.
Back at the canoes, I conducted my ritual history
lesson, noting there was an Indian village opposite the mouth of West Canada
Creek before there was an Iroquois Federation. I also explained that this
area was settled by Palatines in the 1720s; that the Palatine Village on
the north side of the river was destroyed in the 1750s by the French during
the French and Indian War; that for many years this was the westernmost
settlement in New York State; that Sir William Johnson met here twice with
as many as 2,000 Indians to settle disputes between the Iroquois and other
northeastern tribes; that after Fort Stanwix burned, Fort Dayton
(Herkimer) was the westernmost fort during the Revolutionary War; that
there was a lock and a short canal built near here in the 1790s and the
remnants of the lock were recently discovered on Lock 18 Island, and that
across from the mouth of West Canada Creek is the 250-year old Fort Herkimer
Church.
And when I caught my breath, I told them that General
Baron Von Steuben used West Canada Creek to travel to and from his holdings;
that according to his diary the downstream trip from his home, northwest
of Barneveld, to Herkimer took four hours; that Steuben initiated
the construction of a road from his farm to Herkimer, and that sections
of the road are still named after him.
After all that, everyone was ready to get back to
the river. Before we parted ways, I suggested a stop around noon to eat
lunch, and announced that I had brought along Wergin's hotdogs to supplement
our sandwiches and cookies.
The Mohawk is a much different river downstream
from the West Canada. It's wider and much cleaner. (On that day, for more
than a half mile, the north side of the river was clear while the south
side was dirty.) There are more and bigger islands, more bays, backsets
and runs of fast water. The vegetation is different too; more grasses and
shrubs than trees.
Except for an occasional great blue heron or a lone
duck, we didn't see much wildlife in that area. On past trips I've seen
ducks and geese at practically every turn. I also know there are a number
of deer and some turkeys on Lock 18 Island.
In
the past I had caught both bass and walleyes in the pools near the mouth
of the West Canada, so Bob and I gave that a try. Ron and John continued
to catch smallmouths by casting the shoreline. John's bait was a fluorescent
orange Number 5 Rapala that he attached to a snap at the end of a 10-inch
monofilament leader. The leader was attached to the line with a swivel.
The swivel kept the line from twisting and the snap didn't interfere with
the action of the lure. Ron used a black twister tail jig. While John had
caught six bass, the biggest 13 1/2 inches, Ron managed to hook and land
two good bass despite the fact he was paddling the canoe most of
the time. They had both hooked and lost other fish.
Bob and I continued to ply the pools and
runs near islands for walleyes and bass. I even managed to catch a small
bass. We also tried plugs and jigs along the shoreline but just couldn't
connect with fish. We did stir up a "herd" of carp in a couple of bays.
At one point we were surrounded by clouds of muddy water as carp avoided
the canoe.
Bob and I were well ahead of the others when the
lunch bell rang in our heads, so we beached the canoe at a shaded rocky
point. While Bob built a fire using dry grass, leaves and willow branches,
I cut four forked sticks. By the time the others arrived we had a cooking
fire. I handed each of them a "frankfurter", a bun, a forked stick
and a warning. "Treat these with care because that's all there is.
The backup hotdogs are no-fat, no-taste turkey dogs."
With great care we speared our hotdogs and roasted
them slowly over the fire. When roasted dogs were secured in their buns,
I passed around a squeeze bottle of hot mustard. A coke in one hand, hotdog
in the
other . . . we savored the moment.
John in his early 50s, Ron mid 50s, Bob late
50s and I, early 60s, were kids again.
"I haven't roasted hotdogs on a stick since I was
a kid."
"It's been years since I've done this."
"My old fishing partner always cooked sandwiches
when we canoed the river."
"This was a great idea."
I credited my inspiration to grandkids. When they come to visit, I try
to share some of the experiences I enjoyed as a youngster. Roasting hotdogs
on forked stick over an open fire was one of them. Besides it's always
good to feel like a kid again.
Lunches eaten and fire out, we returned to the river
at 1 o'clock. Bob and I continued to scare carp, upset herons and kingfishers,
and enjoy the variety of vegetation and wildflowers. Bob noted that if
it wasn't for the train traffic this would really seem like a wilderness
trip. He counted nine trains in four hours.
Roasting hot dogs over an open fire helped make the
outing something special for four "seasoned" fishermen.
As we drifted through a section of river that ran along the railroad bed, we saw a good-size snapping turtle half-way up a fallen tree that was leaning against the bank. Until we came on the scene it was apparently enjoying the heat of the mid day sun. That ugly critter took a header onto the bank below, rolled over, lunged straight at the canoe and dove out of sight. Snapping turtles are not graceful.
Lock 18 marked the end of our discovery trip. For many years
huge barges filled with fuel passed through this lock on the Barge (Erie)
Canal. Today pleasure boats ply these waters. The wild land between the
canal and river is called Lock 18 or Plantation Island. Ron and John are
in the barely-visible canoe on the right.
We beached the canoe at the lower end of the wall
at Lock 18, carried it and our gear up to the mowed lawn and waited for
the other canoe. When Ron and John came around the bend, I asked them to
paddle up to the open lock so we could take some photographs. While Ron
paddled the canoe into position, John cast his little plug to the rocky
shoreline and caught a small walleye.
They had continued their slow and steady drift down
the river, fishing the shoreline. John had caught 16 smallmouths, the largest
17 inches. Ron had caught seven and hooked and lost several others. One
was a very big fish that threw the jig after a good fight. John later noted
that most of the fish were within a few feet of the shoreline, right at
the edge of the dropoff into deeper water.
We had launched in Herkimer at 8:30 and were loading
the canoes on our vehicles at 2:30. We had packed a lot into a six-hour
trip. Ron and John had certainly proved there were plenty of fish for the
catching. Although Bob and I didn't connect with the fish, there was no
doubt this stretch of the Mohawk was a special place for canoeing, cooking
and wildlife viewing. Indeed the Mohawk River from Herkimer to Lock 18
is a veritable outdoor treasure.
Follow the path of this discovery trip by clicking on Mohawk Valley Maps: by Maptech.
Type Herkimer, select New York, press GO!
Select Herkimer, N.Y. and click on right margin arrow to follow the path of the Mohawk River from Herkimer to Lock 18.
