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Sunday, June 16, 2002
Scarborough Marsh: Maine's Fragile Gem
Copyright © 2002 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc. | ||||||
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SCARBOROUGH - If a thought hadn't descended from the sky 44 years ago, the salt marsh that penetrates the heart of Scarborough might not be the ideal place it is today for birds, fish and people. On a flight over the marsh back in 1958, Russell DeGarmo, a game manager at the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, peered at the watery complex below and — over the din of roaring propellers — declared to a companion: "That is going to be our next project." DeGarmo's subsequent push for state acquisition of the property in the late 1950s was the first step toward protecting the marsh. As a fish and game official, DeGarmo actually hoped to cut off the tidal flow and convert half the marsh into a freshwater habitat for ducks that were favored by hunters. For various reasons, that plan never came to fruition. But in the process, a larger and more significant goal was reached — protecting one of the most important and productive biological communities on the New England coast. "He's the one that really started the ball rolling at the time," recalled Richard Parks, a state wildlife official who accompanied DeGarmo on the marsh flight. Parks noted that the idea of altering the marsh — which would leave present-day conservationists aghast — was simply "considered the thing to do" at the time. Today, the public owns 3,100 acres of land in what is called the Scarborough Wildlife Management Area. The marsh is important to southern Maine because it contains some of the most productive wildlife habitat in the region.
It also protects against storm damage on the southern Maine coast by absorbing massive amounts of water and energy from winter storms and the occasional hurricane. And it offers a setting of natural, relatively unspoiled beauty that gains in value as sprawl gnaws away at the dwindling supply of open space in Cumberland and York counties. The value of the marsh and its continued vulnerability have prompted conservationists to embark on restoration projects to undo past damage. Participants hope their efforts will protect the marsh in the future, so it will continue to provide benefits to coming generations. The Scarborough Marsh was born of pressure and ice. Fourteen-thousand years ago a massive sheet of ice that covered Maine began a slow retreat, leaving behind depressed land filled by the rising ocean to the northern shore of Sebago Lake. When the land slowly rose, the water retreated, leaving some areas saturated and protected by barrier beaches. These coastal areas started to build up with pockets of peat about 5,000 years ago. The early marsh probably began as a series of small patches that merged into one large marsh. During the last 5,000 years, sea level has risen 18 feet. The marsh has matched that advance, building itself up with another layer of peat. Abundant ecosystem The marsh consists mainly of two types of grass: cord grass, found on the lower banks near the rivers, and salt meadow hay, which grows over the lip of the crumbling banks. Below the grasses the marsh is thick with peat, a saltwater-saturated concoction of the broken-down grasses and other sediments created over thousands of years. Humans have long been drawn to the marsh, and each group imposed changes. American Indians hunted there and burned some of its grasses. European settlers farmed it for salt hay to feed their cattle. Shipbuilders laid keels at Dunstan Landing, and laborers dug ditches in the marsh during the Great Depression in an effort to eliminate mosquitoes in a mosquito eradication scheme. The Eastern Division Railroad bed was laid across its northern half, and joggers now use the raised bed as a trail. Bird-watchers gather to watch snowy egrets glide above circular pools, called pannes. Clammers dig in the mudflats. The degradation of the marsh began in earnest during the 1630s, with the arrival of European settlers. To produce more salt hay for their cattle they dug ditches, which drained areas of the marsh. As the town grew, so did the number of ways to alter the marsh. Tidal gates were installed, neighborhoods were built on the marsh fringe and Route 1, the railroad and two Pine Point roads were laid down. They formed a web of constriction that choked out saltwater, altering what lived and grew in the marsh. Eyed as industrial zone DeGarmo, Parks and others in the state fish and wildlife department realized if the state did not act, the marsh would have been overrun by the town's desire to expand. "We wanted to preserve the marsh," Parks said. "In those days you could fill it in and do whatever you wanted to do." Parks spent the next 12 years tracking down landowners and buying the marsh, one plot at a time. The work was tedious. He spent a year at the county registry of deeds, scouring records to identify landowners. A majority of landowners didn't know what was theirs, because of disjointed lot lines. Most people who farmed the marsh lived in homes far from its banks. When they sold those homes, the marshland they owned was rarely mentioned in the deals. Over time, their descendants forgot about the marshland. "A lot of their heirs were in the Saco, Scarborough, South Portland area. There were a few who were scattered to the four winds, and a few of them we never found," Parks said. For those who could not be found, the state took the land by eminent domain. Parks and his colleagues at the fish and wildlife department initially planned to seal off the upper marsh to create freshwater habitat for waterfowl, but over time the notion of creating a duck paradise was abandoned. "I think it changed in a hurry when they tried to hold the tide back," Parks said. "The tides beat them. When you filled it in one place it washed out in another." By 1970 the department was wholly focused on securing the land for salt marsh preservation. The state's efforts have preserved a view that makes an attractive setting for homes at places like Seavey's Landing and Winnocks Neck Road. The vista across the marsh, where elegant birds plunge their long necks into pools of water, has attracted home builders for decades. Homes may pose dangers The marsh moves in concert with the rising ocean. If the oceans keep rising — as scientists are expecting as a result of global climate change — marshes will recede further inland and claim more dry land. When homes are built on the marsh's perimeter, that inland creep is halted. "As the sea level raises, sea marshes will have nowhere to move to," said Michele Dionne, research director at the Wells National Estuarine Research Reserve. Invasive plants The tall, thin golden plant is most evident where Route 1 cuts through the upper marsh near Anjon's Restaurant. There are two forms of phragmites, a native New England form that does not choke out surrounding habitat, and an import from the Middle East that has wreaked havoc on marshes in mid-Atlantic and southern New England states. In these areas, the phragmites have transformed marshes into "biological deserts," said Lois Winter, a conservation biologist at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Phragmites colonize areas of brackish water with tidal restrictions. The roots race below the ground's surface in straight lines, stalks extending skyward, an army of gold marching in concise rows. Once phragmites secure a foothold, they change the makeup of the marsh by sucking water from the surface and shading out smaller plants. These changes have adverse effects on small invertebrates and fish living on the marsh surface. They also eliminate food sources for birds. For conservationists the goal is not to rid the marsh of phragmites — mainly because it cannot be done completely — but to control the plant. "It's something we are going to have to live with, but we are minimizing their effect," said Rob Bryan, a forest and wetland ecologist with Maine Audubon Society. Degradation of the marsh would damage more than a pretty view. The marsh also provides an income to clam diggers, a place for recreation and plays an important ecological role. When hurricanes roll up the coast into the Gulf of Maine, the marsh acts as a buffer zone that absorbs the energy of the surging water. In addition, it contributes to the ocean's food chain by dumping nutrient-rich particles into the Atlantic. As suburban growth moved closer to the marsh edge during the state's land acquisition program, officials hoped to buy buffer land, but no money was available for these purchases. "We tried to preserve as much upland as we could," Parks said. "We bought some by the old airport and the town sold some. The idea was to create a buffer zone around the marsh." The lack of a buffer still concerns people working with Scarborough Marsh. Lawn fertilizer laden with chemicals can run into the marsh from nearby lawns. Development also makes nearby ground less porous, allowing storm water to pour into the marsh, carrying with it whatever it picks up from the roads. Restoration programs In February, members of the group plugged ditches that were dug to create haying areas at Seavey's Landing. They hope to begin their next project soon at Cascade Brook. There, when Old Blue Point Road washed out in 1996, 2,750 cubic yards of asphalt and other road materials were sprayed over two acres. The group will remove that material along with piles of peat, the foundation of the marsh, that were ripped from the ground during the flood and deposited downstream near Pine Point Road. Where the asphalt was deposited, phragmites have grown at an alarming rate, said Mike Morrison, who owns SWAMP Inc., another group that is working on the project. "(The phragmites) are the tallest I've ever seen. It's like the Burmese jungle in there," he said. Friends of Scarborough Marsh will remove the phragmites by applying an aquatic herbicide that, if used properly, is regarded as nontoxic to humans, pets and wildlife. They will then dig the phragmites out by the roots. The project will also hammer down a metal water control structure that impedes tidal flow from a culvert under Pine Point Road. With help from the conservation groups working on such projects, the marsh has become a more appealing habitat for fish and wildlife, such as the striped bass and snowy egret. But while the restoration has helped the marsh, it has not saved it completely. The marsh itself probably deserves some credit for being resilient, says Bryan, the Audubon ecologist. Standing on the former Eastern Division Railroad, now a walking path over a bridge that channels the tidal flow, Bryan surveys the flat, almost treeless landscape through binoculars. He marvels at how the tide's return allowed the marsh surface to rise and the green of salt hay to creep back again. "In some ways this is a success story," he said. Staff Writer Ryan Blethen can be contacted at 791-6329 or at: rblethen@pressherald.com
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