One hundred and thirteen years ago there was a single entrance to the Atlantic for two separate rivers, the North River which ran from Hanover to Scituate and the South River that ran through Marshfield. One storm, in one night, moved that entrance roughly a mile further north, isolating the southern part of Scituate known as Humarock . (briefly there were two openings to the sea, but the original southern one silted up and became part of the sand dunes.) On the same night the same storm drove a storm surge up the river, raising the high tide mark by many feet and drowning hundreds of Market Hunters, who provided fresh wild ducks and geese to the markets in Boston.
Wow, thats a lot of history! Can you tell I didn’t get into the water today? But I do have photos.
I grew up in this area (No thats a lie, I never grew up.) I am familiar with this area having done a lot of swimming and boating around here in my youth. Even a few years ago the parking and access problem wasn’t as bad. Today, every spot I tried was posted. One spot, a lovely dead end road with a tarred turn-around close to the river with a easy launch from the bank of a particularly nice scenic spot on the South River is adorned with a NO PARKING ANY TIME sign.
Travel to Hawaii some day, while you’re there notice the public access areas in between every hotel. Each public beach access facility has parking, showers and a nice strip of beach that no one can chase you off of. Hawaiians don’t believe in private ownership of the beaches. The Yankees got there to late and were never able to change their minds.