My dad and I completed an eighteen-mile loop route through the Snohomish River delta near Everett, Washington. Launching on salt water, we rode a flood tide inland into the looping maze of the sloughs and estuaries that constitute the delta. After wandering for hours in the narrow, twisty passages, we linked back up with the river proper just south of Spencer Island and rode a gentle ebb tide back to the river mouth and our launch point.
Route map. There are endless possibilities for routing through the maze of channels.
There were dozens of ospreys everywhere. Armies of adults were feeding legions of ever-unsatisfied fledglings and juveniles. Their high, peeping calls were a constant background to the river’s other noises.
The Snohomish delta is an urban-influenced environment. The sound of vehicle traffic and motorboats was present throughout our paddle, but there were still signs of hope for nature lovers. The forests of abandoned pillars throughout the sloughs prove this area was once much more developed than it is today. The wild is slowly reclaiming these channels.
Birds and animals were our companions on the water just as much as the occasional passing jet ski or bass boat. Thanks to the paucity of boat ramps along this route, we spent more time in the company of seals and sandpipers than Yamahas.
Route-finding was the most enjoyable part of the trip. By timing everything with the tides, were able to drift along effortlessly for hours on end, barely dipping our paddles into the water. The current gently carried us along, and the trees and shrubs of the banks flowed past almost as if we were standing still and it was they who were moving.
From time to time migrating shorebirds flew up from the mud and grass that lined the canals, briefly started by these slow, silent intruders.
Back on the river, we paddled back to our car in the fading twilight.
Dad paddling along Everett waterfront. The beach dries to an extensive mudflat, so launching at the marina is advisable.
Osprey nest at Everett waterfront. The cheeping cries of dozens of ospreys filled the air.
Rounding Jetty Island. Jetty Island was once home to the southernmost nesting colony of arctic terns, but despite intensive conservation efforts, the colony collapsed in the 1990s
Derelict wooden barges at Snhomish River mouth. The giant timber in these planks came from the old-growth forest that once carpeted western Washington until it was all harvested.
Bridges at Hawke’s Landing. On a hot day, the shade of a bridge can provide welcome relief.
Dad drifting along on the Snohomish River. Even though we were headed “upstream,” the rising tide did most of the work for us.
Dad drifting along even slower. Huckleberry Finn is dad’s favorite character in literature, and he appears to be doing a pretty good impersonation.
Peaceful Snohomish River. The pilings are evidence that the river’s industrialization once extended much farther upstream than it does today.
Geocache hidden in the middle of the Snohomish River. Two kayakers headed the opposite direction from us told us where to find this geocache they’d just hidden. The cache is the container with the white cap. A small bag of marijuana inside the cache explained the kayakers’ otherwise incomprehensible giddiness at meeting us.
East of Spencer Island. Spencer Island is a famous birdwatching hotspot, but few birders ever see it from this side.
Evening on the Snohomish River. Even with the long days of August, our slow pace almost saw us caught out after dark.
Osprey in sunset. Hoping for one last fish.
Sunset in the Snohomish River delta. The ebbing tide and the river’s flow combined to whisk us back to the marina as darkness fell.
Thanks to the fall migration, we saw a respectable 42 birds on this trip. We also saw harbor seals, a river otter, and a variegated domestic rabbit. We found a fleet of half-sunken, wooden-hulled barges, and a couple of girls in kayaks pointed us to a geocache they had just hidden in a submerged log on the back side of Ebey Slough. The trip was a good balance of wild and human encounters.
—Alex Sidles