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 Coordinator, Quinn Caralle.
During the many field trips my classes took to the Inner Harbor and its surrounding wonders throughout my life, we were repeatedly told to never, EVER, touch the water. I was an avid swimmer as a kid, labeled a mermaid by my family, but that was always an easy rule for me to follow. I was not tempted to take a dip when I was near Baltimore’s waterfront. I was used to getting my swimming fix in the clear, chemically cleaned water of my grandpa’s above ground pool. The Inner Harbor was not an appealing place to dive in. As a teenager and young adult I would visit the Inner Harbor during Otakon, an anime convention that was held in downtown Baltimore for many years. Friends visiting from out of town would get the same warning I had heard throughout my childhood; don’t you dare touch that water, even for a good photo op. If a costumed con-goer wanted a photoshoot in the water, the now demolished McKeldin Fountain was their best bet.
While my coworker Chris Streb leapt in to the water alongside Mayor Brandon Scott and Waterfront Partnership’s Adam Lindquist during the Harbor Splash, my mind wandered back to McKeldin Fountain (rest in peace). In the summer, it would be common to see people taking a dip within the brutalist concrete structure to escape the heat, or just for fun, despite authorities’ best efforts to discourage it. Watching my colleagues and fellow Baltimoreans float happily in the water off of the Bond Street pier was the first time that I felt the urge to jump in, and wished that I had signed up to do so. I felt so proud of Baltimore and the hard work that our communities and local organizations have put in to get the water quality to where it is today. There is more work to be done before the natural body of water right on our doorstep is as safe and appealing as a pool or an old concrete fountain, but I look forward to that future.
protect environmental and human health
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.
