Before the memory fades: Dundee drawdown – disappointing for some, an experience with history for others

By Walter Lunt

“It’s like a landscape from another world,” exclaimed an early June visitor to the near empty impoundment that was, only days earlier, Dundee Pond. In May, a sluice gate at the Dundee dam stuck in the open position and drained the 200-acre artificial impoundment leaving only a section of the ancient Presumpscot River and the eerie magnificence of a barren terrain.

The flat, barren landscape left by the summer drawdown
at Dundee Pond is shown in Windham. Disappointing
for swimmers but a boon for the citizen historian.
PHOTO BY JASSON WILLIAMS

The list of disappointed entities climbed. Thousands of Dundee Park patrons would miss out on swimming and swimming lessons. Windham Parks and Recreation mourned the loss of revenue gained from its various Dundee programs. Fishing and boating were curtailed. Shorefront camps along the pond would lose access to the water. The conservation group Friends of the Presumpscot became concerned about the ecological impact.

Less disappointed were the naturalists, archaeologists, treasure hunters, curiosity seekers, metal detectorists and history buffs.

Visitors witnessed the geography and culture of an earlier time, most notably the re-emergence of the Presumpscot River, free-flowing again after nearly 125 years and acres of stumpage – old forest land that preceded the flooding of land that made way for construction of Dundee dam in the early 1900s. Nearby was the site of the 1800s Shaw family farm: the home, the barn, and orchards, all showing ample evidence of being burned in preparation of advancing water. Shaw Road, an ancient beaten-down remnant of the horse-and-wagon days, runs parallel with the canal and disappears into a wooded area.

Some parts of the landscape were less obvious to interpret. Craters, approximately 4 feet in diameter and several feet deep, dotted an area near the canal. Leith Smith, archaeologist from the Maine State Historical Commission, theorized they were “prospecting pits,” dug in search of clay deposits for making bricks.

Arguably, the most unique and historic feature of the newly unveiled landscape was the mile-long section of the Cumberland & Oxford Canal, the watery hand dug thoroughfare of the 19th century that transported goods between Long Lake and Portland, and the eroded remains of at least three locks used to raise and lower the barge-like freight boats along the channel’s 20-mile route 150 years ago. The Whitney Locks, located directly across the pond from Dundee Park, is a double system consisting of two concave ditches with vertical tree trunks positioned against the banks to avoid cave-ins (as noted by the archaeologist Smith, “… the quality of construction was not amazing.”)

Here, the canal followed the course of the Presumpscot on the Gorham side of the river – a 5-foot deep ditch stretching from the river to the canal which circumvented the two Whitney locks. Its purpose was to replenish water into the canal.

Visitors were able to walk on the hard-pack surface of the tow path where once young men led horses pulling canal boats loaded with cord wood, lumber, molasses, and countless other goods up and down the channel. Several visitors were observed standing within the confines of the canal and its locks trying to imagine a time long ago when men and boats traversed this course, carrying on the commerce of the 19th century.

Hiking the tow path from the crippled dam to a point opposite Dundee Park, one tramples dead freshwater mussels. In the lazy flow of the Presumpscot, fish could occasionally be observed breaking the surface sending forth concentric circles; a lone heron standing motionless nearby waiting, hoping for a meal near the water’s edge. Off the trail on both sides of the river was a meadow of barren flat land, caked with slimy, cracked sediment accumulated from over a century of river flow becoming arrested by the dam. Sounds in this remote area were confined to Canada geese and crows; an occasional eagle surveyed the landscape overhead. Essentially, the drawdown created nearly 200 acres of sterile, empty land divided by a thin ribbon of water.

Exploring the expansive tract of “blank-gray,” earth, as he called it, was citizen historian and metal detectorist Al Farris.

“It’s a fascinating walk back in time and more than I expected,” he said.

Farris spent days documenting the locations of stone walls, farmhouses, clay pits, old roads, and spots where he found cultural treasures. Operating a drone, he took still pictures and shot video. He compared his discoveries with old maps. In addition to coins, a musket ball, a Civil War era bullet, and bits of hardware, one of his more interesting treasures was a button bearing the image of an Asian warrior riding on top of a carp (a fish). Researching this curious find, Farris learned the image probably depicted a Japanese man named Kintaro, a legendary figure of the 1800s based on a real Samurai warrior. The discovery leads to more questions regarding who would have lost these buttons and what was their purpose in being there.

During this activity, Farris said he spoke with a group of visitors who said they were making plans to produce a documentary.

Farris plans to someday display many of his cultural discoveries at the Windham Historical Society’s Village Green.

Today, as we read this, Dundee has returned almost to full pond, too late for summer recreationists, but leaving behind a season of fascination and discovery. <