Tidal wave of changes

Popham Beach's landscape has taken a beating thanks to the Morse River, punishing winter storms and global warming.

The beach's nemsis: Erosion

"Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me."                                                                                             -  Albert Schweitzer

PHIPPSBURG, Maine - There has been several tense moments when I was bushwhacked by Popham Beach's shifting landscape, rough surf and dangerous undertow and riptide.

Right now, this spectacular shoreline has taken a beating thanks to punishing winter storms and the meandering Morse River, putting beachgoers at risk during high tide. If you don't respect Popham's overpowering surf, then you might find yourself in harm's way.

According to a friendly officer on beach patrol, a woman was recently swept out to sea in July, and a helicopter was summoned from Cape Cod to rescue her. But she was lucky: The tide swept her back to shore.

We usually visit Popham twice during the summer to take on this beach's battering waves and visit its two historic forts, Popham and Baldwin. There is also a small island that is accessible when the tide recedes. It is a challenging and precarious climb to the top, but the view of the entire beach is simply awesome. But one slip on the backside of this island means a 30-foot plunge into turbulent waters and certain peril. Waves are constantly slapping the island, and I believe it would be impossible to survive the surf.

The wild waves are enticing to two surfer dudes like my son and me. We prefer low tide and a mile walk to the water that is usually shrouded in a morning fog. We trudge through the soft and sinking sand and eventually disappear into the mist. The water is usually cold, not like the tepid waters at Old Orchard Beach.

For the next couple of hours, Anthony and I are swept away by powerful waves. We notice hundreds of small fish darting around our legs, but we quickly figure out what is driving the tiny creatures toward the shallow water. Large stripers, which are feeding on the smaller creatures, make their presence known when they dive out the water. It is spectacular sight to see these big fish launching themselves in the air.

There are two instances where I found myself in a dangerous predicament at Popham. Anthony was just six when I stopped paying attention to the rising tide. We had a boogie board with us. I rushed back to shore, but the water was already waste high for my 6-foot-3 frame and over Anthony's head. 

We were in trouble. 

I told Anthony to climb on top of the board and I dragged both of us to safety despite a riptide and undertow that almost caused me to go dead in the water. When he was a toddler, I carried him off the island when the tied started coming in, making it an arduous trek back to the beach.

That is the danger with Popham Beach. The tides can sneak in and trap you from behind as the water fills the deep gullies chiseled out by storms and the Morse River.

Those treacherous moments with my son occurred a decade ago when the landscape was easy to navigate as a swimmer. Today, Popham's shoreline has changed dramatically thanks to the Morse River, which has cut closer to the shoreline over the years, wiping out defensive dunes and threatening the new bathhouse installed next to the beach. Coastal storms and global warming also chewed up Popham, but the Morse River has rerouted itself away from the spectacular beach, preventing further erosion, which is great news for beach lovers.

But whatever treacherous changes have taken place at Popham, Anthony and I will always return to visit and traverse the beach's hacked-up landscape to take a crack at Popham's uncompromising waves.