Most Petalumans are familiar with 101
and Lakeville Highway, yet we know little about our oldest road. It’s not a
secret to those who have visited of one of local peaks, from where they can see
it stretch from Petaluma to the Bay. It’s no mystery to anyone who has traveled
the entirety of it’s winding path. It’s the Petaluma River estuary, and last
weekend I was among a group of watershed activists treated to a tour, taking a
long afternoon excursion from the Petaluma Marina to Port Sonoma and back,
aboard the Compass Rose (thank you, Sea Scouts!)
We left the Marina at a quarter to one, chugging out into
main river channel as a pair of Hawaiian outrigger canoe teams paddled by. A
family of hikers waves to us from the Altman Marsh trail boardwalk; then we pass
the mouth of Adobe Creek, Schollenberger Park.
Further downstream, we see Shamrock’s new transfer facility taking shape. Our
skipper says they’ll be importing gravel from the Pacific Northwest, helping
preserve what’s left of our Russian River water purification system. Shamrock’s
concrete goes into our patios and to Pomeroy, our riverside cast-concrete
fabricator. And it’s the tonnage of all this commerce that keeps the Corps of
Engineers coming back to dredge the river channel, making possible rides like
ours and the other recreational boats trips to and from Petaluma.
Next on the left are the restoration-in-progress wetlands
that will become part of the City’s water treatment system. (Here’s sustainability
in action: we let nature purify our water before we drink it, then let it help
purify it again after we foul it up.) Up next: the mouth of Ellis Creek, which will
someday be sporting a dock for kayakers and canoeists. Off to the right, a vast
expanse of marshland stretches from the riverbank to the hills east of Highway
101. This is the Petaluma Marsh, the largest and most pristine ancient tidal wetland
in California. We’re lucky to have this left intact; were it not for
preservation efforts, it might have been another Foster City.
Marshes are second only to tropical rainforests for biological
productivity. Bill Kortum told the story of how local
officials balked at the per acre cost of acquiring part of the marsh until they
learned that each acre supported an equal value of fishery product each and
every year. Today, one of the greatest potential threats to the Petaluma Marsh
is the expansion of Empire Waste’s Redwood Landfill, which sits just upstream. If
Empire ends up with Petaluma’s garbage contract, let’s make sure our garbage
doesn’t end up polluting the Marsh. You can learn more about the Petaluma Marsh,
and efforts to protect it from landfill expansion, at noexpansion.org/aboutriver.
As we approach Port Sonoma, Bay Institute Executive Director
Grant Davis points to a recent bayside preservation success along Highway 37. Ancient
wetlands had long been diked, drained, and planted as
hayfields, and were recently being considered as a site for the Graton Rancheria Casino. A
concerted effort by land preservation groups, including our County Open Space
District, the Bay Institute, and Sonoma Land Trust, led to the acquisition of
this land for wetland restoration.
We sail under Highway 37. San Pablo Bay spreads out before
us, Mt. Diablo rising in the distance. The water is shallow and the mud deep,
says Bill, largely from sediments washed down from the placer gold mining in
the Sierras. He tells the story of a
bayside farmer who left his D8 Cat running, hidden behind a dike, during a long
lunch; when he returned the tractor had vanished, vibrating itself down into
the mud.
We head home. Our tour leader and River Keeper David Yearsly reminds us that the Tolay
Lake project (which features a great view of the Marsh) is nearing its
fundraising goal *and* deadline (get your checkbook and visit
friendsoftolay.org.) I look at an aerial photo, noticing how the river’s old
meanders had been sliced straight. Well, today I can live with that. There’s
still plenty of nature left out here, and I’ve got to get to the Cinnabar for
Figaro’s wedding.