Retracing Smith’s path reveals a much-changed James River

Retracing some of the ground -- well, water -- that Captain John Smith traveled four centuries ago, Captain Mike Ostrander piloted his pontoon boat down the James River near Varina and cut the engine.

Beyond the boat, there was no sign of man or woman.

Trees lined the banks. A ribbon of marsh, dotted with cattails and white flowers called marsh mallows, lay between the trees and the river. A few fish broke the river's glassy surface.

"Up here it's about as natural as it's going to get," said Ostrander, a veteran river guide.

During the trip, the conversation kept returning to one question: How has the James changed since Smith's time?

The scene on this recent morning was beautiful. It was also misleading.

On the far side of the James, the trees and marshes were a facade, like storefronts on the set of a Hollywood western. Behind them lay gravel pits and open areas where trees once stood.

"It's a little fringe [of nature], and that's just a portion of what it used to be," said Sandy Williams, a Richmond wetlands expert along for the trip.

The legendary Smith helped establish the first successful English colony in America in 1607 at Jamestown, about 45 miles downriver, and explored waters throughout the Chesapeake Bay region.

On this recent morning, Ostrander led a tour of a portion of the John Smith national historic trail, a 2½-year-old liquid byway that takes boaters places Smith traveled.

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During Smith's time, numerous Indian settlements lay along the banks. Today, there are only two in the region, the Mattaponi and Pamunkey reservations, on those rivers.

Long ago, "The poor folks lived on the river, and the rich folks lived in the city," said Keith "Deerhorn" Wynn, a Chickahominy tribe member on board. "Nowadays, the poor folks live in the city and the rich folks live on the river."

As children, many Virginians have read about the brave English settlers establishing civilization while trying to avoid getting massacred.

"It was only a massacre when we won," said Danny Jefferson, another Chickahominy Indian.

Virginians have taken an increased interest in Indian history in recent years. The 2007 Jamestown anniversary -- not a "celebration" in Indian eyes -- was a big catalyst. Now Indians are often asked to speak at events like this river tour.

"We're becoming a hot commodity," Jefferson said.

A bald eagle flew by. Two ospreys tended a nest on a piling.

If the James looked pretty to the modern boaters, it must have been breathtaking 400 years ago. For one thing, it was probably clear for several feet.

The river on this day looked like weak, greenish Kool-Aid. Microscopic algae cloud the water, blocking sunlight that nourishes pollution-eating river grasses.

The algae are fed by fertilizer and waste from sewage plants, farm fields and lawns -- developments imposed by progress on Smith's world of towering forests and bountiful waters.

"If the James River was a person, not only is it eating its normal diet, but it's eating about 14 Big Macs a day additionally," said Bill Street, director of the James River Association, an environmental group.

"What that would do to the health of a person, we're doing that same thing to the health of the James -- clogging its arteries, causing some major health problems."

No one is trying to put the James back the way John Smith found it. But government agencies and groups like Street's do want to reduce pollution enough to get the river on a healthy diet.

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Pollution, coupled with humankind's compulsion to tinker with nature, has drastically changed the makeup of the James' inhabitants

For example, 10-foot, toothless fish called Atlantic sturgeon fed so many hungry settlers that they have been dubbed "the fish that saved Jamestown."

Overfishing and pollution nearly wiped out the sturgeon in the bay region, but a remnant population struggles for life in the James. Boaters occasionally see a 5-footer leap from the water, and some experts believe a 10-footer or two may still lurk down below.

A new monster, the blue catfish, rules the river today. State game workers placed the voracious predators in the James below Richmond in the 1970s to give anglers an exciting new fish to catch.

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In addition to the John Smith national water trail, there is a John Smith state water trail. It gets confusing, but on the James both cover the stretch from Hampton Roads to Richmond.

Ostrander began offering the Smith-trail trips this summer in cooperation with the James River Association. The trips will continue year-round.

The Jamestown settlers arrived in mid-May1607. A few days later, a group including Smith explored upriver and encountered a natural phenomenon that still inspires onlookers today -- the falls of the James, at what is now downtown Richmond.

There, Smith later wrote, "we were intercepted with great craggy stones in the midst of the river, where the water falleth so rudely, and with such a violence, as not any boat can possibly passe."

Smith drew a remarkable map of the region about 1608. It remained the only map based on personal surveys until 1673.

"That map is a testament to his skill and the extent of his explorations," said Gabriel Silver, an environmental educator with the James River Association. "It's a record of an amazing explorer."

In the James, Smith had a pretty amazing place to explore.

Contact Rex Springston at (804) 649-6453 or .

About the series

The James River is a place where Virginians find beauty, recreation, food -- and problems such as pollution. The James River Journal is a yearlong adventure aimed at telling the story of animal, plant and human life along the river. Look for our next story on Monday, Oct. 19.