Turtle Hole (Durham, NC) - West Point on the Eno

29 Jun 2020 Update: Turtle Hole (AKA Sennett's or Synott's hole) is lovely, but dangerous. Three people have drowned there in the last 18 months alone. Moreover, the neighborhood where many people park (Tanglewood) is being overrun by visitors and the site is being trashed (literally). People are also starting fires and drinking at Turtle Hole. It is highly recommended that you park at West Point on the Eno and walk to Turtle Hole to enjoy the site and swimming is not recommended. 

Overview: Until gaining popularity on the internet among non-locals, Turtle Hole was called Sennett's (or Synott's) Hole. The hole is located at the western end of West Point on the Eno (a Durham city park), and it is bordered by large granodiorite rocks and floodplain forest. Historically, the hole provided excellent opportunities to view water turtles and birds. The hole is also of historic significance: it was the site of a mill in the mid-1700s. Local lore suggests that the owner, Michael Synott drowned in Turtle Hole at a ripe old age, when high water swept away his mill (Heron, 1975). WARNING: Turtle Hole is reported to be quite deep (Bradley, 2007) and drownings occur each year.

Directions: Please visit West Point on the Eno Park, where there is a parking lot. Take the beautiful South River Trail to Warren Creek. See here.

Turtle Hole (AKA Sennett's Hole in 2008)

My observations and ponderings in July 2020: Turtle Hole has changed a lot since I wrote my first blog post about it in 2008 (originally published here), and even more since I first visited it many years before that.

A New Name. Since 2008, WRAL and other folks, perhaps new to the area, have published threadbare stories about "Turtle Hole" online and in doing so, they changed the name of Sennett's Hole to Turtle Hole. Presumably ignorant of its long history and the 18th century lore of Captain Synott, the hole is now named after turtles, which are abundant along the whole Eno River and are in no way a particularly distinguishing character of this stretch of the river, although you can find turtles.

Trashing Nature. In addition, since I first started taking nearly daily walks to Turtle/Sennett's hole nearly two decades ago, the character of the site has changed dramatically. The trash is incredible. This past Sunday morning my family and I found that the once nearly pristine hole was again full of litter. We carried as much as we could up to a trash bin: a full-sized punctured raft, beer bottles and lots of tops, soda cans, Snicker's bar wrappers, a piece of tin that was in a pile of charred wood where someone had built a hot and heavy fire.

Now too, the site is regularly graffitied and every few years trees are hacked by an ax-wielding visitor with a lot of pent-up aggression. We saw those hack marks on Sunday too. Compared to 10 years ago, the paths are now double their original width, and the soil is so compacted the the trails flood in the rain. New social trails now cut through what was intended to be protected forest land.

Danger and Drowning. When my family and I walked down to Turtle Hole on Sunday, we also found the paths torn up and trees knocked down by a big-wheeled, wide vehicle. At first we had thought someone had plowed through the woods on an ATV. Later, we found that the track marks led to a bit of "Do Not Cross" police tape flagging in the wind, tied to an ironwood tree. Another young person - 16 years old - had drowned at the hole.

I can't tell you how many times my family has made the pilgrimage down to Turtle Hole to honor the dead. Over the years, I've lost count of the number of people, typically young people,  that have lost their lives. The news doesn't report these stories anymore, and now we only learn about the drownings from neighbors that saw the emergency vehicles.

Birds and Beauty. Sennett's Hole is lost now, and with it the beauty of its narrow woodland trail and the respect that visitors used to show. Now, Sennett's hole is Turtle Hole - a place people go to party without cleaning up their trash, much less listening for the haunting call of the yellow-billed cuckoo. Still, sometimes, when the weather turns and the crowds thin out, I can make out a barred owl in the distance or the wide-eyed stare of a doe.

Final Thoughts. In the end, we need more Sennett's Holes. We need more protected lands. We need more places to recreate. As my friend and fellow ecologist, Ron Sutherland, recently mentioned, the Triangle is growing, and we all rely on and need green spaces for mental and physical health. Right now, there is just not enough space to go around unless we work to preserve more green space. If you're interested in green space protection locally, considering donating to the Triangle Land Conservancy or other organizations that conserve open space.

My observations and ponderings in September 2008 (originally published here): The day is beautiful and feels fully like fall. The air is cool, the breeze is moderate and rustles the treetops, and the sun seems lower in the sky, less orange than in summer, glowing a very pale yellow.

I sit at Sennett's Hole, a quiet refuge in autumn where the Eno River widens at the confluence of Warren's Creek and large igneous obstacles. A five foot tall pale pink and gray monolith, with crevices highlighted by black bryophytes and pale green lichen, stretches 60 feet across, blocking nearly half of the river.

Here, water rushes across smaller rocks and little puddles are filled with minnows. Yellow bellied turtles sit on decaying sycamore logs and straggly river birches make their stand on rocky island mounds. Sandy outcrops are littered with bleached fresh water clam shells and imprinted with the marks of raccoons, dogs, and man. The river babbles over boulders and crickets hum all around. The titmice no longer screech warnings, and the crows and red shouldered hawk have just ended their mid-day rounds. Carolina chickadees still call in the distance.

Yellow bellied slider (Trachemys scripta scripta) at Sennett's Hole

Man has left his mark here, not only with footprints, but with dirty once-white socks left after a day's excursion. Non-native grasses and trees invade the floodplain. The rocks are said to be scarred by the renants of an 18th century mill, and an old rope hangs from a bending birch. In the distance, despite my best attempts to ignore it, I can hear civilization -- traffic and airplanes. Still, with the warm sun on my back and the chickadees chuckling nearby, I am transported into contemplative peace by nature at Sennett's Hole.

Granodiorite porphyry rocks stretching across the Eno River at Sennett Hole.

Granodiorite porphyry (upclose), a blend of plagioclase feldspar, biotite mica, horneblend and quartz.

Resources: If you're interested in the geology of Sennett's Hole and West Point on the Eno, please check out the following NCGS publication:

Bradley, P. J. 2007. A Geologic Adventure Along the Eno River, Information Circular 35. North Carolina Geologic Survey: Raleigh, North Carolina. 65 p

For more information on the history of West Point on the Eno, please see:

Heron, D. 1975. The Story of West Point on the Eno. Eno Journal 3 (1): 4-8. Online Publication. Accessed September 24, 2008.

And check The Border Life.

A secretive Fowler's toad (Bufo fowleri)