Fifteen years ago, Biohabitats began working with the Waterfront Partnership of Baltimore, along with other committed partners, to envision a swimmable, fishable Inner Harbor and chart a course to get there. At the Waterfront Partnership’s recent “Harbor Splash” event, an organized jump into the Inner Harbor, a few of our team members were fortunate to witness or be among those who literally immersed themselves in the realization of that vision. In the wake of such a significant splash, they shared some reflections. This one is from Marketing & Brand Leader, Amy Nelson.
Early last Sunday morning, as I stepped aboard Biohabitats’ workboat, a 16-foot skiff with the inherited moniker “Crabby Abbey,” I was feeling a little crabby myself. Despite the early hour, I was already baking beneath the heat dome that had settled over Baltimore. Having returned from a business trip the previous night, I was also tired and not yet sufficiently caffeinated. But I had made a commitment to join my colleagues in capturing photos of people—including our own Chris Streb—jumping into the Inner Harbor as part of the Waterfront Partnership of Baltimore’s Harbor Splash event. And I don’t back out of commitments. I slapped on a happy face and some sunscreen and released the bow line.
A short while later, Crabby Abbey had crossed the harbor and was approaching the Bond Street pier, the site of the Harbor Splash. My crankiness instantly evaporated. The entire pier was full of people–many in swimsuits, some wearing floaties and fun costumes. Grinning paddleboarders, kayakers, and boaters floated near us. The waterfront was lined with onlookers, many of whom were swaying and dancing to tunes being blasted by a DJ. Hundreds of people had come out to watch and participate in the event. Seeing it was (forgive me) pier joy. We quickly and easily spotted Chris. He had chosen to wear a costume that would pay homage to William Donald Shaefer, who was Baltimore’s Mayor when Chris was a kid and a major force behind the revitalization of downtown Baltimore in the 1970s and 80s. In 1981, after losing a bet about the National Aquarium’s grand opening date, Shaefer famously swam in the Aquarium’s seal pool wearing a Victorian era men’s swimming costume and straw hat. Like I said, Chris was easy to spot. He also spotted us. He gave us a wave and posed for a photo alongside another Splash participant—historian and Instagram famous magnet fisherman Evan Woodard—who had the same costume idea. Chris was smiling broadly. I wondered what he was thinking, and if he was absorbing the magnitude of the event.
Fourteen years ago, I accompanied Chris to a press conference where the Waterfront Partnership announced their new “Healthy Harbor Initiative” and its audacious goal to make the Inner Harbor swimmable and fishable. Biohabitats had worked with the Waterfront Partnership to develop a plan to achieve this goal, and Chris spoke at the press conference about the Initiative’s exiting pilot projects. I still remember him explaining the “floating wetland” prototype he and other Biohabitats teammates designed, which used plastic bottles removed from the harbor as the wetland’s floatation device. I snapped some horribly low-quality photos and then hung out in the back of the room. The press conference was held in the top floor of Baltimore’s World Trade Center, which offered a panoramic view of the polluted harbor below. It was well attended, and I recall there being a vibe of genuine respect for the Waterfront Partnership’s chutzpah in declaring its ambitious goal. But I also recall hearing more than a few snickers and expressions of doubt.
I thought about that doubt as I watched Chris, Evan, Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott, and other Healthy Harbor partners move to the edge of the pier and prepare for their immersion into water few dared touch, let alone jump into, for decades. What were they feeling? I am a lifelong swimmer who has always found comfort in open water. People who know how frequently I swim often ask me what I am training for. I usually respond, “sanity.” For me, the moments before a jump into open water feel peaceful. Purposeful.
The announcer gave Chris and his fellow jumpers a countdown. “Ten… nine… eight… seven.. six…” Again, I wondered what it must feel like to jump into the Inner Harbor, knowing its history of struggles? So much progress has been made since that 2010 press conference, but it has not all been sunshine, rainbows, and crystal-clear water. Indeed, the Inner Harbor has experienced some dark (and green) days between 2010 and now. But the Waterfront Partnership and everyone involved in the Healthy Harbor Initiative—including Chris and several of my colleagues— never threw in the towel. To this day, they continue to envision, design, and implement projects that improve the quality of Baltimore’s waterways.
“Five …four …three…” Were they feeling purposeful?
“Two… one…” In they went. One cannonballed. Did one flip?
The crowd of hundreds erupted, as did the smiles, hugs, high fives, and gleeful shouts of the jumpers as they surfaced from the first wave of the Harbor Splash. What did they feel? Based on what I witnessed, I’m going with sheer joy. What did I feel? Hope.
