Early Morning Feast

Hundreds of gulls flying up and down the shore, hungry for shadflies. The hatch was late this year, and there was some concern the population is down, but this morning the gulls seemed to think all was well. While shadflies can be annoying to non-gulls, their presence indicates healthy water.

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Sue departed for Wisconsin just as the gulls had enough light to hunt—and drove all the way to Milwaukee in one stretch, solo.

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It is a bit addictive. Can't be in a rush; have to use the Zen mind and let the rocks stack themselves. Always amazing when it works.

Delicious meatloaf at the Pinebox.

Smoke...

 ...this morning, and even scarier, yesterday morning.        Yesterday, shortly after reveille,  

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it was busy on the Lane. Everyone was up—sniffing—with smoke definitely in the air. Neighbor Al called the fire department, and almost immediately the siren sounded. I grabbed my bike heading down towards the Woods' place, and as I was getting close, a jeep, containing a volunteer firefighter, came roaring up behind. The two of us got down to Woods' beach and stood sniffing and staring into the fog...but nothing, no fire or flame. Apparently other firefighters scrambled too—to Maple Point and out to the Grandor/West Bay side of things. But nothing, nowhere. Turns out the smoke was/is coming from the big fire north-east of here, up on the French River and near Killarney.

We had clouds and pretend rain most of the day today, and there is hope that the afflicted area got real rain. Still, it's scary, and everyone here is glad of the fire department's rapid response. We are hoping for no smoke tomorrow, and some real rain later in the week, but we remain cognizant of the fact that breaking the back of a drought is not easy.

The barkentine above, a training ship for young people, smashed into the dock this morning, breaking the big iron casting around the bowsprit that tensions the dolphin striker. Took a big chunk out of the dock too. Maybe a little more training is in order, for someone?

Pity the Poor Loon

We’ve got Digger wit his unmuffled cigarette boat,  a variety of jet skis operating out of the more recent nouveau riche cottages south on the Lane, and the thumping bass of a rock band “tuning up” over at the marina. Plug your ears, it’s Summer Fest in Kagawong. 

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This little private yacht may like being part of the noisy village. Either that or they made a bad mistake coming here when they did. 

How could I fail to mention that IT RAINED last night, A light rain, a gentle rain, but rain, and for maybe two hours. I stayed up the whole time listening to the sound patterns on the metal roof. Rain, for those who don't have metal roofs, is not a steady, uniform phenomenon, no—instead, the intensity fluctuates by the second. So, for two or more hours I listened—first for the little whispers, and then the brush strokes on a snare drum, and then, but no, never the tympani—always saying, "yes, come on, yes, come on, you can do it," afraid to move in case I might jinx what was happening, and occasionally saying, "thanks rain, thanks...even this little bit is better than nothing."

Big East Blow

Surf rolling in. Big waves, but unable to reach the pier, which, in appreciation of previous destruction, has been installed in an elevated position. Usually, an east wind brings weather, so we can only hope. At least we have clouds.

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Given the number cottages now occupied along the Lane, not to mention the hot sun and high heat, we have been walking the upper bluff trail that parallels Serendipity, where shade is plentiful and the temperature cooler. One has to adapt, or a least try to.

Today, along with instrument practice, the summer regimen decided upon in the winter months was actually implemented. Paddle, pedal, row, swim. Morning kayak into the waves. Afternoon ride to the marina. Good long row in Geode. And then a brief swim after the sweaty ride back.

The rowing part was inspired by Guido Brunetti, the main character in Donna Leon's books.  In the book I'm reading now, Earthly Remains, Commissario Brunetti takes a needed two week leave of absence from the Venice police force and spends 6 hours a day during that time rowing around the laguna..

9,000 Hours...

 ... is the recommended service life of the UV bulb integral to our water system. Yesterday it let me know that the jig was up, so today I changed the lamp. Haven't yet quite calculated when the next replacement will be, but I have already ordered a replacement bulb, using the same philosophy as that used by experienced  gas grillers who always have a backup tank.

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Tower of power. Beans on the menu tonight—thanks, of course, to irrigation.

Couldn’t Be More Perfect...

 ...unless you like rain. 

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Breezy, coolish, dry—perfect for a long walk, motorcycle off-roading, and basic chilling out.
Everyone in this house has become obsessed with the crime/detective/mystery books by Donna Leon, which, of course, take place in Italy. (Well, Pax is only faintly interested.)

"Where the telescope ends, the microscope begins. Which of the two has the grander view?"
     —Victor Hugo

 

Cowering

Hiding from the sun and heat...at least from from eleven to four.  

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Pax and I walked the upper bluff trail (from Donna and Al's to Price's, up the bluff from Serendipity), and that was fine because of partial shade, but on the way back, on the road, it was hot; and Pax very much wanted to go down every driveway straight to the lake. I felt the same, but we both made it back to our driveway before heading down hill and jumping into the water.

Meanwhile, it was decided to take the Pinebox guests for a sail about 4:30, just about the time weather forecasters issued a thunderstorm and squall warning. Radar showed some red blobs moving across Manitoulin, but knowing that that was fake news—and promising to eat my hat if it rained at all—we went for a pleasant sail anyway. While we were out, the wind switched from south to northwest. In summary, the day was sunny, hot, and dry. Blowing hard from the NW now. 

If I wanted sunny, hot, and dry, I'd live in Arizona.

BTW, the rock stack erected on July 5 is still standing. Curious to see how long the one pictured above holds up. I'm coming to find that stacking rocks is almost as much fun as practising a musical instrument.

Bug Doctor

Sailing and dinner with Professor and Mrs. Shorthouse...he a retired entomologist... and member of the Manitoulin Great Lakes Islands Coalition team.

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Never sailing before, but enthusiastic and delighted.

Lots and lots of talk before, during, and after dinner, and not always easy to get a word in edgewise.

Rain this morning. Yes, actual rain. Not much of course, and not for long, but enough to knock down the dust and to somewhat reduce the fire risk. No real dent, however, in the drought.

I bypassed the transmission safety lockout switch this afternoon before our sail, and I think I can say that the engine now starts every time.

City of Stone

Sudbury, that is. To pick up the repaired Heliotrope starter motor. Almost every place in Sudbury that needs to be flat (for example the Walmart store and parking lot,  just to the right in the photos below), has had to be drilled and blasted level. But then, Sudbury is a mining town. We won't mention the fact that that the new library has had to be shored up to counter-balance a strong list to port.

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Sunny, hot, and dry.

Making the Best of Perfection

Perfect weather (assuming you like dry).  Sunny and warm, but with a mighty south wind.

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The lower deck received a refreshing power wash (not by me) and is no longer slippery when wet (as if such a thing could ever occur). Very high speed Windrider sail in the afternoon—tearing along in heavy gusts, but always in control.

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

That floats on high o'r vales and hills... Except there weren't any clouds, apart from a few contrails. The drought continues.

All docked out, and it is pretty deep at the far end

All docked out, and it is pretty deep at the far end

We did make a run to Mindemoya for the annual hazardous waste disposal where we had to queue up in a long line of vehicles being guided to the collection point. Perhaps half an hour, or more, until we were able to unload a substantial collection of old paint.

This was one queue I didn't mind being stuck in. Glad there are so many who care about the Island.

In Praise of Islands

What’s  so special about islands? (See below.)

Frog hiding in one of the few moist places around here (Photo by Sue)

Frog hiding in one of the few moist places around here (Photo by Sue)

This may look like a giant turtle moving from left to right and leaving a track, but it's really a boulder that was pushed long distance by moving ice, last spring.

This may look like a giant turtle moving from left to right and leaving a track, but it's really a boulder that was pushed long distance by moving ice, last spring.

What’s so special about islands?

They are, of course, surrounded by water—which gives them a certain separation and sense of definition.

They are more or less difficult to get to, and thus tend to be less travelled and more natural. They are often slightly behind the time and seem to operate at a slower pace, offering peacefulness and tranquility. They have a relatively great amount of coastline, which gives them a relatively great amount of beauty.

They have definite boundaries, creating a sense of place. They often have a smallish population, a unique history, and a substantial number of shared interests. Islands tend to think and act as communities.

Although there is something ineffable about exactly why, islands are different. Perhaps it’s the air—if not the water. Whatever the case, anyone visiting an island feels the difference once a foot steps ashore. On an island you are somewhat removed, to someplace special.

So what’s the best way to think about islands? According to Christian Pleijel, Chair of the Nordic Archipelago Cooperation in the Baltic Sea and former Director of the European Small Islands Network, there are three helpful ways:

1) the natural landscape (the island without humans), 2) the cultural landscape (what happens when we humans move in to the island, what we do, how we survive, what we need), and 3) the technical landscape (the infrastructure we build to meet our needs of transportation, energy, water, waste and overspill we produce).

These three considerations are also an important part of the thought process of the relatively young organization operating in our part of the world. The Great Lakes Islands Coalition (GLIC). GLIC is an association of year-round-occupied islands in Lakes Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie, Ontario, and the St. Lawrence River. There are about 20 of us.

Cast The First Stone

Will, on vacation in Minnesota, has thrown down the gauntlet on the Great Northern RockStack challenge.

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Considering the infinite number of rocks here, just for the stacking, I had to give it a try, too.

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Let the wild stacking begin.

Possible categories might be: 1) most rocks, 2) tallest stack, 3) most artistic, 4) biggest rocks, 5) most defiant of gravity, 6) arch or bridge, 7) nicest collection of rocks ready for stacking.

Same old hot, humid, and dry—but clouds were sighted in the distance, and a few even passed overhead.

In The Still Of The Night

The wind drops with the sun. 

Met this neighbor on our morning walk

Met this neighbor on our morning walk

And the nights are quiet. Then then sun rises across the bay...and all remains quiet. Not a breath of air, and very little bird song. Although many birds make this place home, few of them are morning people, especially at this time of year.

By mid-morning ripples spread across the water, and by noon we have a breeze from the south. Warm and dry. Hot and dry.

In honor of global warming we decided to finish pier installation ourselves (in spite of having hired help). With this kind of weather, pier installation can easily be considered a water sport.