A Small River 

 Sets a Big Precedent 



By Julie Powers • Photos by Scott Taylor 



JL \s a slender stream deep in the upland woods, the hushed environs of the White Oak River 

 could belong to centuries past: Ancient, elegant cypress trees. Leaves whispering in a breeze. The 

 scent of wildflowers and water lilies. 



Such timeless tranquility has earned these reaches of the White Oak high esteem among kayak 

 and canoe enthusiasts, says Michael Banks, who lives and works along its shores. 



"It's pure nature," he says. 



Well, not entirely. Yes, in the 50 miles between its headlands and the Atlantic Ocean, long 

 stretches of the upper river flow through public forests free of human habitation. 



But boat access to this natural beauty is courtesy of the N.C. Division of Water Resources 

 (DWR), Jones County leaders and some tenacious White Oak devotees. Together, their minimalist 

 approach to storm debris removal may become a standard for the state's waterways. 



Until the spring of 2005, nature had locked paddlers out of some spectacular reaches of the 

 coastal plain river for nearly a decade. A half-dozen hurricanes beginning in 1996 toppled hundreds of 

 trees across the current. Branches and logs set afloat by the winds added to the obstacles. 



Banks repeatedly cleared sections for local paddlers and customers of his White Oak River 

 Campground and White Oak River Outfitters. Riverfront residents also did what they could. 



The storms kept coming, however. 



Hurricane Isabel in 2003 left an average of 20 new "blowdowns" per mile in the 20 miles of 

 what became the 2005 cleanup project — from above Emmetts Lane Bridge on State Road 1333 to 

 near Haywood Landing in the Croatan National Forest. Remnants of Hurricane Charlie added more 

 than two dozen blowdowns in 2004, pushing the total past 500. 



The section from Emmetts Lane Bridge downstream to Gibson Bridge had been impassable 

 since 1996, says paddler Connie Asero of Atlantic Beach. 



Now, clusters of wood debris frequently close in on the channel from both sides — but stop 

 short of meeting. Mesmerized by the quiet splendor, a newcomer could easily overlook evidence the 

 narrow passage was not sliced out by water. 



"It's not a flume ride," says Asero. "It's not a canal. We just basically cut a path through each 

 blowdown and pulled that section out." 



This light touch was key to winning $70,000 in DWR grants. The boom in recreational paddling 

 represents much-needed economic opportunities for Jones County, which lacks major industry. But 

 the fallen timber that confounds navigation is important to a stream's ecological agenda. 



It slows water flow, allowing natural cleansing mechanisms time to work. It is an anchor in the 

 food chain — small fish such as bluegills and redbreast sunfish feed on the invertebrates that attach to 

 wood; bass and pickerel prey on the small fish, and so on up the scale. The still water downstream of a 

 fallen log creates a rest stop for American shad toiling upstream to spawn in the spring. 



"Woody debris is one of the primary drivers of aquatic productivity in coastal plain streams," 

 says Bennett Wynne, an N.C. Wildlife Resources Commission (WRC) anadromous fish coordinator, 

 formerly a WRC habitat conservation coordinator. 



"It gives the stream habitat complexity," he says. "The more habitat complexity you have, the 

 more diverse the assemblage of species you have." 



Paddle trails can be compatible with habitat areas, if users don't strip the stream. "A good debris 

 removal project, in my mind, is one you take a small boat down without any hardship, but it doesn't 

 look like there's been a chain saw at work," Wynne says. 



Continued 



