Volunteering - The Heartbeat of our Rivers
There are many ways we can give in life - money, advice, encouragement, skills - but none compare to the simple, unrepeatable gift of time. Once spent, it cannot be reclaimed, and that’s precisely what makes it so valuable. When time is offered freely to the river, it transforms into something much greater than hours on a clock. It becomes cleaner gravels for salmon to spawn in. It becomes open channels for trout to rise freely in. It becomes thriving riverbanks where invertebrates, kingfishers, and bats can flourish. And when bound together like this, it becomes legacy.
I certainly believe that a river is only ever as strong as the people who stand beside it. And our volunteers are the lifeblood of that effort. Every wader pulled on, every branch cut back, every tray of invertebrates counted is just a stitch in a much larger fabric of care. Without it, threads unravel. With it, we create something durable and lasting - a river that continues to inspire, to sustain, and to thrive.
Why now?
The month of September is a bit of a turning point. Bird nesting season has passed, which means we can safely return to our riverbanks to tackle one of the most important jobs of the year: managing vegetation. Some of you might ask, “Why trim it back at all? Isn’t wild best?” The answer, as with a lot of things in the natural world, lies in balance. Left unchecked, brambles, nettles, and overhanging branches can choke access to other plants, shade out vital habitats, and restrict the very diversity the riverbank depends upon. By carefully cutting back, we can let light reach the water, creating the right mosaic of dappled shade, and maintain essential paths for surveyors, anglers, and walkers alike to enjoy.
At the same time, walks along the riverbanks also become purposeful inspections. Fallen trees, debris rafts, or collapsed banks might look dramatic, but if they block the passage of salmon or sea trout up or downstream, they can jeopardise the very future of the river. Migration, in my opinion, is non-negotiable - it’s one of nature’s rights. These fish must move upstream and downstream freely to complete their life cycles. Our volunteers act as guardians, ensuring their path is clear and their journey unhindered.
Looking further ahead
But vegetation and blockers are just the beginning of what can be done. Our ongoing Riverfly surveys, carried out throughout the catchment in May, July, and September, give us the most direct and comparable insight into river health. It’s not laboratories, satellites, or those that shout the loudest that tell us the truth, but the presence of delicate insects in the water itself. When olives, stoneflies, and caddisflies thrive, so too do the other species reliant on this food chain. To kneel by the river, upturn a few stones, and find life wriggling away in a tray is to see the river’s heartbeat and soul right in front of you. For those of you already involved with Riverfly, you know… And anyone can do this - with the right training, every volunteer becomes a citizen scientist and a contributor of facts and knowledge.
And then there is one of the most moving tasks of all - Redd spotting. Once we know the elusive Atlantic Salmon have made it home to their spawning grounds, we turn our attention to their nests - shallow redds cut into clean gravels by the hen fish. To witness this firsthand is to stand at the crossroads of both survival and hope. These nests are fragile, vulnerable to disturbance, and yet they hold within them the next generation of truly wild fish. By mapping and recording redds, we can safeguard them. We honour a cycle older than memory itself.
A still taken from a video of the Hen Salmon digging her Redd.
We also look outwards, getting involved with our partners like the National Trust, with shared days of work and restoration see our events calendar. These occasions remind us that our mission doesn’t sit isolated, it’s part of a wider movement of aligned people determined to protect rivers, woodlands, and landscapes for everyone. My advice - Join us and get involved!
Why it matters
I think it’s easy to forget that rivers are not guaranteed. So often we hear of them being lost to neglect, to pollution, to indifference. The Wild Trout Trust reminds us that wild fish, clean water, and thriving ecosystems need constant care, and that care cannot be outsourced. It has to come from us - local people, passionate about local waters and proud about where they choose to call home.
And here’s the truth bit - every action, no matter how small, contributes to a chain of outcomes far bigger than we can see. Cut a bramble today, and in spring, you may find olives hatching from that bit of river, just because this is where sunlight now touches the water. Clear a blocker in the river, and a salmon may reach its spawning ground, unseen and unthanked, but only possible because of what you did. Record a redd, and a future angler may one day catch a wild fish born from that very spot.
A personal invitation
So, as the season shifts, we invite you to ask yourself - Do I have a little more to give? Could you spare a morning to walk a stretch of river? Could you spend a few afternoons a year identifying and counting invertebrates? Could you join a team for a day of restoration work as it gets organised?
If the answer is “yes,” then you are needed. Not in some distant way, but here, now, in the Teign catchment. Your time will not be wasted. It will ripple outward, creating results you may never fully see, but which the river will carry forward.
Volunteers are not a side story - you are the story. Without you, the riverine orchestra (going to keep that one, methinks!) falters. With you, it plays on.
Join us
Vegetation management and river walks are beginning now.
Riverfly surveys will return in May, July, and September next year.
Redd spotting opportunities will follow once salmon reach their spawning grounds.
Partnership days, like our work with the National Trust, are already on the calendar.
There will be plenty going on - plenty of opportunities to step in and make a difference. Please reach out, tell us what interests you, and join the effort.
The Teign can’t speak for itself; it can’t thank us for the work we do, but it does carry every act of care forward. One thing is certain: we can ensure that our gift of time becomes a gift of abundance, resilience, and hope for all who come after us