Love that dirty water
The air is crisp, the sun shining, and the view of Boston's skyline is simply spectacular as Tom McNichol motors his boat along the Charles River. And yet, Captain McNichol can't stop apologizing for the disappointing ride.
''We're in the middle of the basin and how much trash are we picking up? Hardly anything," he says, shaking his head at the dozen or so paper wrappers and bottles in his trash bag. ''This is the cleanest I've seen it yet."
If anything, McNichol has himself to blame for his meager haul.
Tired of seeing coffee cups and condoms floating down river, McNichol, a retired Compaq engineer from Framingham, reconditioned a small motor boat last winter and outfitted it with swimming-pool scoop nets. On June 10, he revved up the engine of the Charles River Clean Up Boat and set out from Watertown Yacht Club in search of every piece of flotsam he could find.
McNichol and the 25 volunteers who take turns on his boat have since filled nearly 200 trash bags with river refuse during their weekly patrols. They've hauled up a full-size portable toilet from underneath the Longfellow Bridge, a newspaper vending box, orange construction barrels, and, last week, a big, puffy beige recliner that weighed about 300 pounds wet.
''The one people find most interesting is when Charlie Newhall spotted a body in late July," McNichol says, adding that the State Police handled that discovery. ''We take anything out except vegetative matter."
As sailing coach for the Noble and Greenough School in Dedham, which uses the Charles River, McNichol would see ''the same trash floating back and forth" for weeks on end. With some time on his hands, and a love for the water, he called the state Department of Conservation and Recreation in March and got the OK to troll for trash.
Cleaning the river hasn't been easy: McNichol's crews spent a week plucking ''layers" of trash from bridge pilings and Esplanade crags after the July 4 celebration. Garbage, meanwhile, has poured out of Charles River storm drains after heavy rains, requiring intense, spot pickups.
The results of McNichol's handiwork are plain to see.
''We'd splash in with a group last summer and the comments would start about the trash. 'Oh my gosh,' " said Jody Johnson, a Boston Duck Tours guide who volunteers on McNichol's boat. ''There are no comments anymore because the river's clean. There's nothing to comment about."
Tom Grosvenor, dock master of the Charles River Yacht Club, agrees it's been weeks since the last tidal wave of bottles and cans drifted his way.
''We had to figure out if we could get the trash out faster than it goes in," says McNichol, 66. ''And the answer is yes, you can."
He estimates it will cost $9,000 to keep the boat insured and running next summer, with T-shirts for volunteers. ''Nobody ever says thanks," he says. ''We clean Harvard's front yard three or four times a week. They could kick in."
On a recent morning, McNichol and Johnson start out from Watertown on his modest 17-footer. It's Johnson's first time out collecting trash, but McNichol is a pro: Spotting a Cheezit wrapper on the starboard side he deftly swings the boat around so Johnson can pluck it with her 8-foot pole.
''I got it! I got it! I'm not taking no for an answer," Johnson yells as she stretches as far as she can -- almost falling out of the boat -- to reach a piece of floating Styrofoam past the Weeks Foot Bridge.
Moments later, McNichol calmly reaches over and scoops it up with his net.
''How many more years until you can swim in it?" shouts a man standing on the docks of MIT's sailing pavilion as the Charles River Clean Up Boat, its name spelled out on its side, chugs by.
''Go right now," McNichol shouts back.
Volunteer groups such as the Charles River Conservancy and the Esplanade Association, along with college students, regularly pitch in to clean the river's banks and the Esplanade's grounds.
With a backlog of nearly $750 million in statewide capital improvement projects, the Department of Conservation and Recreation couldn't keep the Charles clean without such help, said spokeswoman Martha King.
''We don't have the budget to clean up the water, so we're really dependent on these wonderful friends groups and volunteers and corporate partners and advocates," she said. ''Every little bit counts."
McNichol's efforts are also benefiting wildlife that might choke on bottle caps, cigarettes, or condoms in the water, said Dr. John Looney, a professor of earth science at the University of Massachusetts's Boston campus.
The only hitch, McNichol says, has come with raising enough funds to outfit the boat and cover its hefty insurance costs.
''We thought that if we give people publicity with signs on the boat -- you know, the NASCAR approach -- that might work," he says.
To their credit, Boston Duck Tours, the Charles River Yacht Club, the Watertown Yacht Club, The Massachusetts Bay League sailing league, the Esplanade Association, and the DCR -- which hauls off the trash bags -- have all pitched in. McNichol's brother, wife, children, and grandchildren have manned the boat's butterfly nets, too.
''We usually go out from 9:30 to 4. But if it's a nice day we'll stay out until 5 o'clock. It's rewarding," he says while motoring home, past scullers and diving black cormorants, with two small bags of trash in tow.
''It's not a case of having to stay out here. Once you're out here, you don't want to go back."
Littering on the Charles River carries a fine of $25 to $250. More information about McNichol's boat can be found on-line at www.massbayleague.org/cub.html.
