Chesapeake Bay Foundation Blog

Visit With a Smith Island Crabber

Ever wonder what it's like to be a Chesapeake Bay crabber? Join WYPR's Joel McCord as he heads out on the water with Mark Kitching, a waterman from Smith Island.

Update on WAMU Interview

You can catch Will Baker's interview with Kojo Nnamdi here. Note: The Chesapeake Bay segment is the last one of the hour, so when you open your audio player, advance to the 39:58 mark (click on image for larger view).

Will Baker on NPR Today

Will Baker, president of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, will join host Kojo Nnamdi at noon today on "The Politics Hour with Kojo and Jonetta" on WAMU 88.5FM in Washington D.C.

From Kojo's website -- "Politicians love to talk about cleaning up the Chesapeake Bay. But every political season, it seems that bold talk rarely translates into bold actions. (On today's show) we consider the politics of pollution in our region."

If you can't listen on the radio, the podcast should be available about an hour after the show ends.

CBFers Head to the City

Written by Alex MacLennan, CBF staff writer

On Wednesday, I and seven CBF staff members spent the day volunteering with the Chesapeake chapter of Habitat for Humanity in downtown Baltimore. It was an amazing opportunity—not only did we get to help a family become homeowners, but I also learned to frame up a wall.

CBF got involved with the North Washington Street project through the efforts and energy of Claire Ellwanger, a graduate of CBF’s Student Leadership Program and our 2007 Student Leader of the Year. Claire has fostered a partnership between The Park School and Habitat for Humanity—a partnership committed to building one house a year for ten years that includes the school raising $100,000 a year for H4H! And, since Wednesday’s “home raising” team was from CBF, Merrill Center staff donated a housewarming collection of green, sustainable home products. The new home will start of with a collection of long-lasting, low-energy fluorescent lightbulbs, organic cleaning products, and canvas shopping totes.

Eight of us went:  Seven educators, who are used to being physical and outdoors with the 40,000 students CBF educates each year, and me. My job at CBF is to sit at my desk and write about the issues facing the Bay—dead zones and climate change, agricultural runoff and sprawling development. It’s an amazing job, but rarely do I get to head out and make a difference with my own labor and sweat. It was important to me to work just as hard as my cohorts, so naturally, when a competition sprung up—“Who can drive in a nail with the fewest hammer whacks?”—I slammed a hammer straight into my thumb.  (Don’t worry, I only whined for a minute-and-a-half.)

We spent the day framing the upstairs walls—lining up and marking wood, cutting wood (my first circular saw! my first nail gun!), hammering wood, standing up huge frames of wood while real carpenters and builders shored them up. Honestly, I felt a bit like a geeky schoolkid, and a bit like Indiana Jones.

For me, what was so special was that I was helping someone in a direct, visceral way. Our foreman Rodney took us on a brief tour of the street we were working on and showed us five houses—two completed, and three underway. He knew the residents (current or future) of each house. He knew their stories, and how hard each person had worked to own their own home. That my job allowed me to contribute to that effort and that it ensured that at least one of these houses will get off to a green, sustainable start, makes my work even more worthwhile.

See more pictures on CBF's Flicker site

Return Home

by guest blogger Frank Rohrer, stream buffer specialist in CBF's Pennsylvania office.

Back in December of 2007, I made the trip to the gently rolling hills of southern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania for my annual deer hunt on the family farm. Since I moved north to the mountains of Clinton County, PA over three years ago I don’t get back to the farm much.  Each visit is special because I’m always overwhelmed with childhood memories of baling hay, feeding cows, driving tractors, hunting deer, and fishing in the stream…ah the stream!

As a youngster much of my free time (which is very little when you grow up on a dairy farm) was spent fishing, flipping rocks, catching crayfish, and looking for salamanders in and along Stewart’s Run and a small, meandering tributary that flowed through my grandfather’s farm. What a great way to be introduced to the outdoors. I didn’t know it then, but each time a trout swallowed my bait in that little stream I was actually the one getting hooked on a love for all things outdoors.

So much has changed on the farm during the thirty-two years of my life. My grandparents are long gone now, but Dad keeps the farming tradition alive though much less intensively. The milk house now sits silently through long winters and hot summers. Cows no longer enter the barn for their evening meal and the chores are far fewer. Yes, tobacco still hangs in the shed, corn still grows in the fields and heifers graze in the pasture, but the days of intensive farming for the Rohrer family are now gone. 

Of all the changes I know of on the farm, one of the biggest has been the stream itself. Back in 2002, when my wife Kathy and I lived in the little cottage along the stream, Dad decided to build stream bank fencing and plant trees with CBF’s Farm Stewardship Program. Of course, since I just happened to work for CBF as a stream buffer specialist, I was a major influence with that decision!

So, that year we hired contractors to build 5,400’ of fence, install three livestock crossings, and plant 575 trees and shrubs. The fence and crossing set up allow the livestock to cross the stream and drink in various locations, while at the same time it keeps them out of the majority of the riparian areas. This allowed the streambanks to revegetate and helped to keep the stream cleaner. When my grandfather still milked cows, the livestock had full access to the entire stream and the banks were severely eroded, the water was often muddy, and there was no fish or wildlife habitat at all. In total, 5,820’ of streambanks have been restored and 5.3 acres of forested riparian buffer have been created.

Since I only get back to the area a few times a year, I don’t always get time to check out the buffer that I had put so much care and effort into several years ago. This year as I was hunting I decided to take a leisurely stroll along the buffer to really see how it was faring. Although there were trees that didn’t survive, I was so proud to see that there were many trees growing—quite a few of them were well above my six foot tall head. Some ash, maple, and tulip poplar stretched more than twelve feet above the ground.  Dogwoods and viburnums were thriving as well, providing cover and berries for birds and other wildlife.

The thing that struck me the most was the numerous songbirds that were along the stream. A tremendous diversity of birds flitted about all around me as they grabbed seeds from the tall grass, landed on the growing trees, and swooped down to the water. Chickadees, tufted titmice, sparrows of all kinds, and more. The stream buffer has gone from a grazed area with little habitat to a birder’s paradise in a very short time. Being a birder, I was thrilled.

As I walked and gazed over the pasture and farmstead, I was awed by the memories that flooded me…the big hill that we would ride our plastic and metal runner sleds on every winter, thinking nothing of running back up to the top and doing it all day long just as I’m sure my Dad did when he was young…the “deep hole” as we have always called it, where every year the neighbors and Dad and I would gather during the dawn hours of April’s opening day of trout season to try to hook those brown, rainbow, and brook trout, which were courtesy of the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission…the old stone farmhouse built in the 1700’s, where every day my grandmother would make grilled cheese sandwiches for my grandfather and I as we rested from the morning barn chores…bringing in new born calves from the meadow as their mother trailed along behind…baling hay in the sweltering 100 degree heat of August…harvesting corn in the much cooler days of November as a hint of old man winter blew into the air…and of course, those delicious dinners served by my grandmother as the family gathered around the coal stove on those snowy Christmas days.  My simple buffer tour had stirred up so many memories from a 120 acre piece of ground! 

As I neared the end of my walk, my mind gradually got back to the real task at hand—hunting deer! One year I filled my deer tag right there in the buffer (I was doing my part to ensure those new trees would survive) but my luck was not to be this year. I went back north that weekend without a deer but I took home something more valuable—new memories and the knowledge that the stream that hooked me so many years ago was healthier than it has been for several generations. As I left the farm that day, I realized that my career today with CBF has brought me full circle with my childhood of yesterday.

To learn more about streamside buffers in Pennsylvania, you can contact the Chesapeake Bay Foundation at 717-234-5550.  If you live in Clinton, Centre, or Lycoming Counties, PA, you can contact the author directly at 570-295-6164.

Growing Pains...

The Chesapeake Bay Foundation (CBF) has established itself as a knowledgeable authority on the Chesapeake Bay. Quick to champion the cause, the pioneers have held the fort steady and cleared a path for true Bay change. In the same pioneering spirit, we are coming to yet another new frontier. No, we are not talking about new ways to fundraise, rather new ways to engage.

Historically, CBF has done a great job at finding and acting on opportunities to interface with its traditional constituency. But what happens when you take a 40-year-old pioneering environmental nonprofit and plop it in the middle of inner Baltimore City? Or in the richly made ranks of Prince George’s County? Well, I can’t pretend to have the answers. But wouldn’t it be cool to just imagine how that would be equally beneficial? Wouldn’t it be interesting to see all of us stretch in ways we never imagined?

I just returned from a retreat where CBF's Environmental Protection & Restoration and Communications departments were challenged to think about those very questions of inclusion and partnership. Peter Forbes, a dynamic environmental leader and former “political thug,” challenged the organization to reach people outside the “choir” by speaking with a value-oriented message instead of a typical strategic message (read "numbers and statistics"). As scientists and analytical types, sure we were uncomfortable with stepping out of our comfort zone, but we listened intently and thought seriously about Peter’s proposal. What if we could use both? What if we could become much better at communicating our vision for the Bay by sharing our values as well as statistics and numbers?

As most of us pensively thought about the connections, it was clear that before my very eyes—a change was happening. Instead of one person championing the cause of inclusion, all of us were thinking as transformational leaders with transactional flair. We were thinking “outside of the box.” Admittedly, not everyone felt the same. Some of us were still skeptical, waiting for the shoe to drop, or doubting that there would be next steps. All of these thoughts are incredibly valid. A mature organization doesn't change because of a two-day retreat with a dynamic speaker—but at least the mice are starting to turn the wheels.

As I leave this dynamic organization, I can only wonder what CBF will do in the next few years. And if it is anything like what I am imagining, I am excited about our future…

At the time of this writing, Lillian Buie is Environmental Diversity Outreach Coordinator for CBF. Unfortunately she is leaving us for a new job. We wish her well!