Off in the distance of this photo is a bay boat coming my way. It was nice warm weather and calm waters, but it’s a Monday, so the boat traffic wasn’t so bad.

Behind the boat is the ridge of Fire Island.

Off to the left just out of the photo frame is the breach at Old Inlet–southeast across Bellport Bay.

All this orientation for the reader is a way of saying that while I am paddling deeper east into the built environment of Long Island, the unbuilt environment will always remind us who’s holding the straight flush. Yes, it’s a crappy pun on cards and breaches.

The breach at Old Inlet came about from SuperStorm Sandy, one of three breaches created in the storm but the only one not closed by the Corps of Engineers. Not surprisingly, a lot of local folks initially wanted this one closed too for fear of flooding from a storm surge. However, coastal scientists argued that the breach may in fact be the best thing possible for the bay; it would increase flushing/circulation of the bay waters and the open ocean. In fact, folks at Stony Brook found that flushing decreased from 19 to 5 days (https://www.hakaimagazine.com/news/the-unexpected-upsides-of-the-hole-in-fire-island/). Such exchange increases water clarity, decreases nitrogen levels in the bay, and helps bring back marine life. They say the inlet will close naturally over the years of sand deposition and the Corps and National Park Service have agreed to let it close.

We cut a straight line to Howell’s Point and stayed a few hundred yards off shore. We passed Peat Hole, a small pond that is said to be a public skating place for over a hundred years. It was preserved in 2004 and offers public access (https://www.nytimes.com/2004/01/25/realestate/in-the-region-long-island-more-historic-sites-in-suffolk-being-protected.html). Howell’s Point was named after Col. William Howell, who along with Thomas Bell, established Bellport in the mid-19th century. They did so with the idea that it would be a seaport, since Old Inlet offered access to the sea. The inlet, however, filled in and Bellport never became the seaport they imagined. Recently, citizens were asked to rename the inlet since it reopened, so they went with “New Inlet.” Some prefer “New Cut” and others, hunters most often, call it Pattersquash Inlet for the hunting shack that was on Fire Island and washed away during Sandy.

After rounding Howell’s Point, we had a straight shot to Mud Creek Dog Park, destination of many a dog and their owners. It was still early but one dog walked its human in and out of the low waves. The dog attended to us paddling through the bay more than the human but probably a good thing for all. Some of my best conversations have been with dogs.

The number of boats were increasing as we got closer to Patchogue, a harbinger for the trip until I started heading east again, up on the Sound. We aimed for Sandspit Marina and the long jetty on the left side. The  protection of the low speed zone made it easier to cross. From there we aimed for Sandspit Marina and the long jetty on the left side. Then we went straight to Blue Point, and pulled out for a protein bar and a swig of water.

It was a brief paddle to Green’s Creek County Park in West Sayville. Some say Green’s Creek is Maria’s and her students’ creek as they have done water quality monitoring and clean-ups for 20 years now. Her old friend Billy Hart at Hart’s Lobster is a stone’s throw down the road. She knows he’ll give her a ride back to our car in Bellport.

This area is Maria’s home. She has taught here for nearly two decades and worked to keep this place and the bay as healthy as possible. She is known widely as the science research teacher who gives tirelessly to her students, who gives tirelessly to teaching students, parents, and locals about environmental problems and responses, and who gives tirelessly to activism to protecting the Great South Bay. Oddly, she’s never tired.

While she’s with Billy to get our car, I have a bit of time to reflect on her long-term commitment to place and citizenship. I’ve moved so often during my adult life; I’ve never dug in the way she has. I’ve written a book here and a few essays there, but I’m usually on the move before I have to think about a lifetime of working for and with a place. I’d say it’s more wanderlust than wearing out my welcome, but the reality is, I haven’t been a part of the slow process of mini-setbacks and the forward steps of success in preservation of home. I/we have so much to learn from places and people like her.