Eagles, oysters, ducks and mistletoe on the Broadkill River

The second Christmas Eve mistletoe run up the Broadkill River from Lewes to Milton proved even more successful this year than the initial run two years ago. This time there were a grandmother and a grandchild aboard – we expanded from two generations to three – and lots of berry-laden mistletoe offered itself to us from low branches hanging over the icy river.

Becky was more than happy to hold Maisy Peach McGilvray as much as she would allow between steady exploration inside the little boat’s cabin. With temperatures hovering in the mid-20s, we were happy to have the warmth of the Wallis diesel stove working in concert with sun shining through the windows. Seven of us filled the space inside, but it was a sweet and happy filling on Christmas Eve.

The tide was still rising when we left the public launching ramp near the mouth of the river. The northwest wind that has been our steady companion throughout December held the boat against the dock as we climbed aboard and got everyone situated in the cabin.

A mile or so above the ramp, beyond where Old Mill Creek empties into the river and the houses of south Broadkill Beach jump out from the marsh, great flocks of black ducks rose from the pre-blizzard grasses. Occasional marsh hawks, with their distinctive white tail bars flashing in the sun, swooped low in their relentless hunt for voles, moles, mice and any other warm-blooded creature hanging out in the black mud.

I kept an eye on the depth meter in the area of the river between Old Mill Creek and the makeshift launching ramp used by hunters at Oyster Rocks. Thick bars layered with centuries of shellfish production bring the water depth up from 14 feet to seven feet in short order. Watching the depth come up quickly over a half-mile stretch of river reminds me that this has been a productive source of food for decades and we’re still failing as stewards of the river as long as it’s closed by the state due to environmental concerns.

One of our community resolutions for 2011 should be to get those oysters tested and, if their quality is good, at least get the bars reopened for recreational harvesting. There was a time when Broadkill River oysters - naturally salty from their constant bathing in sea waters coming in on high tides, and balanced with a nice flow of fresh water coming out of the inland parts of Sussex – were considered some of the finest oysters on the East Coast.

The Broadkill turns fresher above the Route 1 bridge, and expansive stands of phragmites give way to healthier marshes studded with freshwater plants, muskrat houses, red-berried hollies and other colorful shrubs. Before we reached Smith’s Family Campground stretched along the north side of the river, a mature bald eagle displayed its gleaming white head and tail when it wheeled toward the sun. These majestic birds have made a nice recovery over the past couple of decades but it’s still always a treat to see one contrasted against the deep blue sky of winter.

Downtown Milton was quiet on Christmas Eve when Capt. Rob laid the boat against the dock by the town’s launching ramp. We clambered off the Nellie Lankford and trundled our way over the wooden footbridge that crosses the headwaters of the river by the park and library. It was warm inside Irish Eyes, Maisy Peach enjoyed French fries and grilled cheese (hey, it’s Christmas Eve, the greens will come later), and a variety of sandwiches and pints of stout, ale and beer tasted mighty fine after the upriver journey. We debated trekking over to say hello to the John Milton statue in the park by Wagamons Pond but decided we had miles to go before we would be ready for Santa.

Megan and Becky took over helm duties for the return trip downriver while the menfolk gathered on the poop deck for a cigar and swigs of good Christmas scotch from a seasoned flask. The tide was falling by that point and we made good time as pine and maple shadows began to lengthen along the river.

Back at the launching ramp, we were met by Officer Orrin White of Delaware’s Marine Police. He politely did a dockside safety check of our vessel, inspected our equipment and made a few suggestions for improvements. We thanked him for being on duty and looking out for us.

Then he smiled and wished us a Merry Christmas and went on his way. It was a nice way to end the adventure, and our white-plastic five-gallon bucket was filled with the magical mistletoe that reinforces the love of the Christmas season.

Maybe next year we will be able to tong a few of those tasty Broadkill oysters to keep the mistletoe company in the bucket.