<\/p>\n
The
\nPassaic’s 90-mile journey can be divided into three long stretches. The Upper
\nPassaic is a largely downhill romp through meadows and forest and along the
\nsoutheastern edge of the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. The Central
\nBasin is the long, flat, flood-prone mid-section
\nthat flows north through an ancient lakebed. The Lower Valley, where I grew up,
\nis a 35-mile-long corridor with sides that curl like plumped pillows as it
\nsweeps down from the cliffs of Paterson to the sea level marshes of Newark.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In its
\nconvoluted journey from pristine headwaters to the superfund site at its mouth,
\nthe Passaic mirrors the triumphant and tragic relationship between nature and
\nindustry in America. The wildness
\nand beauty that awed the first settlers some 400 years ago turned America into
\nan industrial titan. Rivers like the Passaic powered the mills, farms, and
\nfactories that produced clothes, food, steel and electricity, a robust
\ninternational trade, and a large and solid middle class. But along the way, the
\nmighty frontier that helped forge American enterprise and character fell victim
\nto an industrial fervor that seemed, at every turn, to sacrifice natural
\nresources for financial gain.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The
\npower and much of the breathtaking natural beauty of our national mountains,
\nforests, rivers, and seas survives today only in the isolated patches of our
\nnational parks, and then just barely. “Our tools are better than we are,” wrote
\nnaturalist Aldo Leopold in his 1949 environmental classic A Sand County Almanac.
\n“They suffice to crack the atom, to command the tides. But they do not suffice
\nfor the oldest task in human history: to live on a piece of land without
\nspoiling it.” My great grandmother Emily Sullivan had a saying: “Don’t shit in
\nthe nest.” The Passaic River is an object lesson in what can happen when we
\nignore that simple, salty advice.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The
\nPassaic changes character in the Lower Valley. Seventeen miles upstream of the
\nriver’s mouth in Newark Bay, the Dundee Dam crosses the river. The Passaic is
\nfresh water above the dam. Below, the river becomes a swirl of fresh water and
\nseawater whose salinity varies with conditions of weather, river flow, and ocean
\ntide. Water levels in the river fluctuate about five feet with each daily tide.
\nDuring extreme high tides, the Passaic can rise as much as 11 feet. When
\nconditions are right—a high tide during the dry summer season, for instance—the
\ntongue of saltwater from Newark Bay can lick the Dundee Dam, a full 17 miles
\nupstream.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The
\nAqua Patio passengers were all quieter on the return trip, even Bill and Andy.
\nI wondered what they would all take away from this experience. Andy used the
\nPassaic River cruises to shake people up, open their eyes, confront them with
\nthe tragedy and the possibility of the Passaic. Later that year, he would take
\nthe mayors of Newark and Harrison out for a ride on the river. Baykeeper hosts
\ncruises for local business leaders, for the press and for the general public
\ntoo.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Our
\njob is to make advocates of people,” said Andy. He was giving me a lift back to
\nmy car, steering his Subaru Outback slowly along the paved streets that wind
\nthrough the PVSC plant from the riverside dock to the visitor’s parking lot at
\nthe main entrance. “Remember Moby Dick?”
\nhe asked, out of the blue. “The first chapter is all about Manhattan. When
\nindustry and pollution kind of took the water away from people, the people
\nresponded appropriately: they turned their back on the waterway and took on
\nother interests. Same thing with the Passaic. When
\nthe Passaic became foul, when it was no longer a place to picnic and boat and
\nswim, it became less known to everyone except the people who worked on it. And
\nthose people used it as a highway and a toilet, and when it started to smell
\nbad and people started to hear warnings about it, the Passaic became an unknown
\nplace.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I left
\nAndy standing in the parking lot, deep in conversation with the two
\nenvironmental engineers from the cruise.
\nMy maiden voyage on the Passaic River had the desired effect. Andy would have been pleased. I didn’t get
\nover my fear of the Passaic. But after the boat ride that fear mingled with
\ncuriosity and a kind of compassion. The river had touched me.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This is the first of a two-part excerpt from This American River: From Paradise to Superfund, Afloat on New Jersey’s Passaic.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Stay tuned for Part Two: Paddling the Passaic from its pristine beginning to its dioxin-laced end.<\/strong><\/p>\n Related Links:<\/strong><\/p>\n Grass That’s Truly Greener<\/a><\/p>\n An examination of benefits to Americans in the American Power Act<\/a><\/p>\n Details emerge on study of cancer near U.S. nuclear plants<\/a><\/p>\n
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