Protection Farm Journal: Edward M. Cotter

A cold and bitter February has now turned to a still cold, but warming March. The last few days have been perfect for the Maple Syrup makers, down below freezing at night, and above freezing, and sunny, now for almost a week.

Sunday we went for breakfast at the Arcade Pancake House, operated by our friends and maple syrup makers Ray and Sandy Milks who also operate a deliciously smelling wood fired maple syrup evaporator at the sugar shack adjacent to the seasonal restaurant. I will blog about them in an upcoming story.

Before it gets away from me I want to post this really neat adventure story about a recent Buffalo River expedition on the Edward M. Cotter, Buffalo’s historic fireboat and winter icebreaker. It is the oldest continuously operating Fireboat/Icebreaker anywhere and it has a really neat story.

Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_M._Cotter_(fireboat)

My friend Bob Gallivan is a volunteer on this vessel, and a retired fireman. He had extended an open invitation to come with him and bring my cameras. I have been shooting a lot of bird footage on the lakeshore and I know that the ice filled but open waters near the Buffalo water intake is full of birds now. So full it looks sounds and lot like a National Geographic presentation on Antarctica. There are thousands of birds, waterfowl and gulls mostly, feeding in the open waters. I was anxious to get closer to them with a lens, and I eagerly accepted the invite.

I was also able to invite two friends to complete the photographic team. I invited my friends and videographers Jim Grimaldi and Jon Ross Fricano.

We were originally scheduled to set out on a daylong adventure on Feb 19. The day before it began to thaw and that meant that the Buffalo River which runs into the Buffalo Harbor and past the berth of the Cotter would be both rising and be subject to ice damming, something that the Cotter is designed to break up. I knew from news reports that the Cotter was out that day working hard to prevent flooding by breaking big sections of ice in the river. At about midnight I got a phone call from Bob and his son Seamus. “Tomorrow might not work out so well”, Seamus said. “Why” I asked? I could hear Bob in the background “Well it probably will be ok but we put a hole in the hull today”. Silence. I didn’t know exactly where to go with that. Finally I said “A hole?” More silence on the other end, and then “Yes, a hole”. After another long pause on my end I said, “In the hull?” Another silence. “We will be ok” I could hear Bob say. And then I asked, “What happens if we have a problem”. Bob replied, “Well the Sheriff’s helicopter is always nearby…. “And don’t worry we will be ok.” As I drifted off to sleep I told Jonna that if anything happened I would try to at least tape the electronic photo card for my camera in a waterproof container to the back of my neck so that if my body was recovered she would at least have a photo record of the event. She did not appreciate my gallows humor.

The next morning I was up early, picked up my friend Jim and as we pulled into the Swan Street berth of the Cotter my phone rang. “No go today” was the message. “Too dangerous. The ice dam on the river will break and the water will surge and we will get caught up and sunk in the mess so we are not going out”. I pulled in and went inside and was greeting by a bunch of friendly but disappointed firemen. They went on at length about how the ice damn up on Cazenovia Creek near the Stevenson Street Bridge had built up and was expected to bust loose sometime this morning. We didn’t want to be caught up in that mess I was told emphatically. “The water could surge 6-7 feet in the worst of circumstances and the ice and wave would flip the Cotter over like a dog with a rag doll”. I had to agree. Emphatically. No need to go out today. And then one of the firemen said, “Besides we have that big hole in the hull.” Again, the room became palpably silent. I looked around. One of the fireman said “We aren’t supposed to mention that”. Since you did, I said less than casually, how did you happen to put a hole in the hull? “Damned ice is too hard said the Captain” laughing, kind of. We are getting it fixed. We will get you out next week. And indeed as we departed the berth I noticed a work crew hauling a metal plate and welding equipment below deck.

My photo expedition crew decided to go up to the Stevenson Street Bridge and photograph the ice bridge. As we got there the bridge was closed, and there were a number of local TV stations broadcasting live. We set up our cameras and got the most amazing footage. The TV crews did not. They used our time-lapse footage on the evening news. You can see this footage by going here:

Ice Dam Break Time Lapse

The next week, February 26 we went out on the Cotter. It was a bright sunny day for the most part, and the Cotter hull was completely repaired. We had a delightful but long day going up the Buffalo River, back down, through several lift bridges and then out into the lake where the birds were. It was an amazing avian sight. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the lake my camera was entirely out of room for photos or video and so I got not one damned image of the amazing array of Buffleheads, Goldeneyes, Mergansers, and about a dozen other easily identifiable species consisting of tens of thousands of noisy birds on the ice flows and in the open waters. But I did see them with my own eyes and that has to count for something!