Roll On Columbia, Roll On

I spent the week in one of those places people are lucky to experience at some point in their lives: the dynamic, churning, and turbid waters of the Columbia River estuary. And I mean really spent the week in the estuary, out on the boat and diving in those challenging waters. As my wise friend Earl told me, "I spent a lot of time in my career diving in the Columbia River and I can't say that I ever thought one of those dives was enjoyable." That pretty much sums up life in the water. But while bobbing around on the boat, I have to say there are few places I'd have rather been this week...given the absolutely perfect weather we had.

The mouth of the Columbia River is notorious for its sea conditions, and I can say from experience, that the reputation is well deserved. On my very first foray into the belly of the beast, running from Ilwaco, WA, we got just past the famed Cape Disappointment Coast Guard Station before sliding down the back side of some 16' swell, regaining steerage, and turning 180, heading right back into the same channel we had just left. But this week was one of those rare stretches of 5 days in a row without fog, dicey chop, gale force winds, rain, or rollers threatening everyone's enjoyment, and for that I was quite grateful!

Every time I'm down in the Columbia River estuary, I can't help but think about what it must have been like for Lewis and Clark to have come barreling down the river--how horrible (and typical!) the weather was that they experienced, but how extraordinarily beautiful the estuary and its surrounding hillsides (free of clear-cuts and development at that time) must have been, with enormous trees and marsh-laced shores. It's not hard to imagine, when on the stretch of river between Ilwaco, WA and Astoria, OR--take away the Astoria bridge and look towards Washington (as in the photo below), and it looks pretty wild (okay, save for the aforementioned clearcuts). A lot has changed, but the wildness of the river is still impressive.


Diving in the estuary is quite an experience. With visibility about on par with the clarity of a good clam chowder (New England, of course) and currents that can severely challenge a diver's yaw (let alone leg muscles), it is quite an undertaking just to get in the water and get headed in the right direction. Add in the promise of 4-5' sturgeon bumping into you either for fun or because they can't see a damn thing either, derelict gear and pilings, and deadheads, and really, it just doesn't seem like all that much of a picnic. But, I stand by my tenet that a bad day in the field is still better than a good day dealing with bean counters and bureaucracy, and overall, things didn't seem so bad...and besides, the bigger the challenge, the greater the feeling of success once the job is done, whether diving in the Columbia, climbing mountains, or crafting a respected piece of research. Of course, I probably could have done without seeing both the sunrise and sunset while doing my job--we did have some of the longest days of the year, and at 47 deg. N, those are not short--but you can't have everything!