Six years ago, Paris drained its Canal Saint-Martin to clean it, as the city does every fifteen years or so. Although the canal now bisects fashionable streets with chic cafes and shops, it was once bisected a rather gritty working-class area. But, perhaps to no-one's surprise, the most commonly-found objects found in every canal-draining were wine bottles.
And the second-most common? Bicycles. The only difference is that in the most recent cleaning, many of the bikes came from Velib, the City of Light's share program.
 |
| Bicycle uncovered during most recent draining of the Canal Saint-Martin. Photo by Yoan Valat for EPA. |
The company that ran Rome's bike-share program abruptly ended its contract because so many of the bikes ended up in the Tiber. Not exactly what Remus and Romulus had in mind, is it?
Amsterdam has had to resort to "fietsen vissen"--bicycle fishing--because bikes were piled so high in the city's canals that they scraped the flat-bottomed boats. At one time, freelance scavengers picked them up on poles and sold them for scrap. In the 1960's, the city's water agency assumed responsibility for the "harvest." Now a corps of municipal workers trawl for the submerged bikes on boats equipped with cranes attached to hydraulic claw grapples. The bikes are hauled to scrapyards for recycling where, according to urban legend, they become beer cans. (Think about that the next time you grab a Heineken or Amstel!)
The phenomenon of bikes "sleeping with the fishes" (I grew up in a Mafia neighborhood. Gotta problem widdat?) isn't limited to European cities. In Tokyo, officials decided to drain a large pond in the middle of Inokashira Park to rid it of a non-native species of fish that was causing environmental damage. Their work uncovered another species that wasn't native to the pond: bicycles. And, in February 2019, a Citibike appeared--covered with barnacles and blisters--appeared overnight in an Upper West Side docking station. A Hudson River conservancy group expert estimated that evidence--including "oysters on the handlebars" (Upper West Siders pay good money for such things!)--indicated that the machine met its fate in the Hudson the pervious August, or possibly June.
Jody Rosen has just written an article on this phenomenon for the Guardian. It speculates on some of the reasons why so many bikes end up in waterways. Some are dumped when by fleeing criminals--who are as likely as not to have stolen the bike they're drowning. Others are tossed or accidentally ridden into the water by drunken revelers. (Could recycling be contributing, if unintentionally, to bikes ending up in Amsterdam's canals?) And there are a few instances of folks who "ended it all" by riding into murky waters, as one woman did after handcuffing herself to her machine.
But, as Rosen points out, a bicycle--especially one whose owner is unknown or a corporate entity--is an easy target for people taking out their frustrations. I suspect that at least a few share bikes were tossed into canals, rivers, lakes and other bodies of water by folks--more than likely, young--who feel lost, alienated, abandoned or simply ignored by their societies, cultures or institutions that control their lives, and over which they feel they have no control.
As a lifelong cyclist, I cannot imagine myself tossing a bike that did nothing wrong to me into the water. And, as an environmentally-conscious person, I cannot condone throwing anything into a body of water that its native species can't eat. But, as we've seen, these days, where there are bikes, there are e-bikes. That, unfortunately, includes waterways, where e-bikes and mopeds are even more of a hazard because of the rare metals and chemicals used in batteries and other components.
So, if you have a bike, e-bike, moped or scooter you want to get rid of, sell it or donate it. But please don't follow the advice of a Talking Heads song!
