Sails down

I was told I looked like a pouting kid, walking the upper deck of the marina, waiting for Debra to help flake the sail. It was pointed out to me by wifey, that the next three weekends did not involve sailing, or any other boating related activity. Damn. So, I decided, while it was sunny and dry, to take down the sails. I had thoughts of sailing in October. The crisp air. The leaves all ablaze with fall colors. Not a power boat in sight. We sailed in October once, and it was a great day. Yes, just one day. That's all we got. One stinking sunny day. The rest of the time, as I was trying to put the boat away, was freezing rain, and wet leaves stuck to me. So, with memories of frozen fingers and toes, and decaying tree matter, we took down the sails. Not happy, but what the hell, it's the price you pay for sailing this lake.

So, this lake I talk about, Ontario, is getting kind of boring. Don't get me wrong, we have had our "holy crap!" moments, and some great sails, but overall this lake is kind of a black inky void, with no real sign of anything living in it. I know there is life under the waters, but you never see it. Once, while crossing to Cobourg, I saw something long like a large snake, swirling in kind of a figure eight behind us. Of course, by the time Deb looks to see what I'm excited about, it is gone. Her reaction to any of my excitable moments, are a bit subdued. Not sure why, as I have pointed out many entertaining sights. Once, all of us witnessed a duck disappear under the water. Kind of weird, as it was floating nicely in the waves, then got sucked down by a rather large fish I guess. 

Maybe this is the duck eater:

Muskrats, ducks, shrews, mice, and frogs also appear in the stomachs of muskies from time to time. Hmm. Might explain the missing Yorkie in the marina. 

This guy looks nasty, and can get up to fifty pounds, and five feet long. The Sturgeon is a rare sighting, and I hope to never see one, especially while skinny dipping.

We usually see Carp, and once saw a Gar Pike along the docks. There was a Lake Trout chasing down a Sunfish right next to the boat a few weeks ago. Witnessed the demise of the sunfish right in front of me. Kind of cool seeing that. I was burning ears of corn on the grill at the time. Last weekend the Salmon were jumping in the basin of the marina. Apparently we were oblivious to the activity, but the folks at the marina thought it was something to see. Might have been that empty growler of Highland Amber Lager that made us blind to nature. 

So to finish off our little marine life lecture, here is the Lake Ontario food chain. I know you were all wondering what lives in our Lake, so enjoy the nice graphic.

As you can see, there is life under the inky black waters of Lake Ontario. There are things living beyond the floating diapers, occasional underwear, party balloons, condoms, dead fish, birds, and coolers (empty of course), and the famous killer algae. For the most part, the lake is cleaner away from the major city's. The Canadian waters tend to be nicer, except for Toronto, which was not as bad as I imagined, but still kind of murky. Cobourg has a beautiful shoreline, and fantastic beach, but way too many Speedos, and Frenadians wearing them. Kingston is just fine all around, and is probably the city I will miss most. The Thousand Islands? Quite honestly, they are islands that kind of all look the same. Most are private, and you'll never step ashore, so no big loss there. Most of the time up there, you are motoring around rocks and ledges, looking for that great anchorage occupied by French speaking, nearly naked rude people, who can't anchor for shit. 

We will not miss Lake Ontario. I think we spent enough time here. We need to go where there are things that can swallow you whole, or take a good bite out of you, lurking under the water. Jumping in the waters to clear a fouled prop, and wondering if you'll be the next morsel, will not be boring at all. Hopefully there will still be some speedo wearing folks, dropping all their rode into a nice neat pile, and grabbing a glass of wine to enjoy the closeness of the American Morgan behind them.