Suisun rising

The rising sun is low in the eastern sky as a lone kayaker paddles toward a distant Mount Diablo. I have seen this kayaker many times on my early morning walks along the Suisun City waterfront, and each time I have been envious that he has the time and the discipline to get out there. Without another soul on the water on most weekday mornings, his paddle on the Suisun Slough into the wilds of the marsh is bound to be peaceful and to offer excellent birding. Egrets, white pelicans, great blue herons, and Canada geese are just a few of the species he’s bound to see.
    If I can’t be on the water in a kayak, I can certainly take pleasure in my walk along the waterfront promenade. Right here on land I can enjoy Mt. Diablo and the Potrero Hills, the cormorants and grebes diving into the sparkling water, and the sound of chiming boat masts in the wind.
However, a walk along the Suisun City waterfront hasn’t always been so inviting. In 1988, a San Francisco Chronicle survey ranked Old Town Suisun the least desirable place to live in the Bay Area. The Sheldon Oil Road tar distribution center, dilapidated and off-limit piers and warehouses, and crime-ridden neighborhoods kept most people from the waterfront. Even so, old-timers fondly remember the Fishing Shack, an old bait shop and meeting place where people drank beer, played pinnacle, and risked their lives when using the bathroom that hung over the water’s edge—one slam of the door and you might go for a swim. An old, fat, black lab slept near the live grass shrimp tank, expecting anyone who was buying bait to throw him a wriggling shrimp or two.
    An aggressive redevelopment plan changed all that. At the heart of the plan was the idea that the Suisun Slough—an improved, accessible, cleaned-up, and dredged waterway—could serve as a community gathering point and an economic incentive to attract businesses to the area. The city removed 27 oil drums and 160,000 cubic feet of contaminated soil. They razed a rundown, crime-filled neighborhood and erected new Victorian-style homes in its place. They built a marina, a central plaza complete with palm trees, and a promenade wide enough to accommodate a neighborly chat next to the water. They developed and implemented a plan based on the European model where businesses have an upstairs living space, thus populating the area at night and reducing crime.
    As a result, Old Town Suisun, once voted the worst place to live in the Bay Area, is now celebrated in national magazines and newspapers for its innovative makeover. For example, in 2003 Utne Reader magazine voted Suisun one of the 10 most enlightened suburbs in the United States.
In spite of all the positive press, it’s no Oz, and the city hasn’t yet reached its full potential. Still, the little-city-that-could has much to offer, and redevelopment efforts have been successful in one thing: the waterfront is the main attraction and serves as an inviting gateway to the Suisun Slough and marsh.
    A highlight of the Suisun City waterfront is the newly built modern marina. Behind the scenes, Gus Barkas is the man that keeps the marina well manicured and running efficiently. Born in Greece, he brings a bit of Mediterranean hospitality to his job.
    “Come by for a chat anytime,” he says. “That’s what it’s all about.”
    When he started as the marina super-visor six years ago, the occupancy rate was 58 percent. Now it’s 99 percent most of the time with a waiting list for the 40-foot slips. He likes to keep the facility nice and clean. Not just for the tenants, he says, but for the tourists and the citizens of Suisun. “I treat people nice and I work with them,” he says. “People tell me that our marina is better than any other Bay Area marina.”
   On the Waterfront Plaza, the city hosts year-round public events. From May to December there is an arts and antiques faire on the first Saturday of each month. In the summer, there are free jazz concerts on Sunday and an Independence Day celebration complete with fireworks. One of my favorite events is in December. Christmas in Old Town Suisun has a lighted boat parade that brings Santa to town so that he can light the giant Christmas tree. Last year it rained, and Santa and Mrs. Claus arrived quite soggy, but that didn’t seem to dampen spirits.
    At the southern end of town is a boat-launching ramp. Last year the city replaced the ramps and erected new restrooms and a fish-cleaning station. The cleaning station is free, but you need to leave a $20 key de-posit with Barkas or his assistant. On busy summer weekends fishing boats, cruisers, personal watercraft and kayaks share the ramps.
    Sunset Bay Kayaks is a mobile busi-ness. Now in her sixth season, owner Trish Abbatiello brings her business to paddling enthusiasts. She provides paddles, lifejack-ets and a brief paddle lesson for those who are new to the sport.
    “I want to get people out on the marsh. That’s why I started this business,” she says. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful out there and it’s right here in our own back yard.”
    Sunset Bay Kayaks can be found on weekends from May to October in the parking lot of the public boat ramp behind Adam’s Marine. You can also arrange to rent kayaks on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays by appointment only. Daily rates are $15 an hour or $20 an hour for double kayaks. Abbatiello also offers group rates and a flexible day rate. Sunset Bay also rents boats for full-moon kayak trips, which I can personally recommend. I go at least once a year with a group of friends and never tire of seeing the full-bellied moon rise above the Potrero Hills. Keep an eye on the moon and give Abbatiello a call for dates and times. Full moon paddles are $25 per person for two hours.
    Call Sunset Bay Kayaks at (707) 429-5925 but, since her business is mobile, call Abbatiello’s cell at (707) 365-2436.
    The Suisun Slough (also called the Suisun Channel) is a tidal waterway. The channel meanders through the Suisun Marsh and the silted mouth gapes into Grizzly and Suisun bays. There’s a distance of 7.5 miles from the Suisun Marina to Hunter’s Cut at the Montezuma Slough. The last few miles of Suisun Slough is silted in, so to get all the way out to the bay you turn off at Hunter’s Cut and follow Montezuma Slough the rest of the way out.
    The Suisun Marsh is an amazing spot. Its 84,000 acres is a stopover for thousands of migrating Pacific Flyway waterfowl, and vital habitat for more than 200 bird species (including the entire population of the Suisun song sparrow), 45 animal species, and reptilians, amphibians, and fish. It’s the largest brackish water (combination of salty and freshwaters) marsh on the West Coast of North America. Although most of the marsh is no longer naturally tidal (because it is managed as waterfowl habitat) it still gives an inkling of what the San Francisco estuary once looked like before all the wetlands were filled in and built on.
    Fishing is probably the most popular pastime on the slough. Depending on the time of year, fisher folk cast their lines for striped bass, sturgeon, catfish, carp, salmon and steelhead. “The fish are really coming back,” says David Rooker, a local who has been enjoying the slough since the 1960s. “Back in the 1970s, before gill netting was outlawed in the slough, you couldn’t find a fish to save your life.”
    “It’s beautiful out there,” he says. “It smells good and there’s a lot of wildlife to see. I’ve seen river otters, sea lions, and big sturgeon. I go out with my friends, find a quiet place to hang out and listen to the wind whistling through the tules and reeds.”
    Recently, a ruptured pipeline dumped at least 40,000 gallons of diesel fuel into the marsh, a scary reminder of the fragility of the marsh and how blurry the line is between wild and urban life. Fortunately, due to existing berms and levies, the spill was contained in a 600-acre area and didn’t get into Suisun Slough or any other main waterway.
    Standing at the end of the promenade, I watch the lone kayaker paddle into the distance. A flock of white pelicans fly over-head. Squinting my eyes, I imagine that the modern fiberglass kayak is a boat made of tule reeds paddled by a Patwin, a Native American, who long ago fished, hunted, and lived off the fruits of these waters. As the kayaker turns a corner and paddles out of sight, I remember something that Gus Barker said to me. “This is a unique and fragile ecosystem,” he said. “Everybody has to do their part in caring for it—boaters, duck hunters, fishermen—all of us.”

Do you like what you read? Subscribe to Solano Magazine »