Position N43.28 W70.35
PASSEPARTOUT
Christopher & Nirit Slaney
Mon 18 Jul 2011 21:52
Heeding a weather forecast which predicted big seas and high winds from the south west, we poured over the charts and cruising guide for a good place to shelter. And so we came up the New Meadows River which runs down to the sea on Maine's 'Midcoast'.
We passed a couple of busy fishing harbors and working waterfronts, pushing our way upstream to a place called The Basin. It feels like a lake in the mountains but this small body of water is connected to the ocean by a cut just fifty meters wide and only at absolute high tide is it deep enough for us to pass.
The cruising guide warned that this place is likely to be busy with jet skis and other visiting yachts but, like so many other of the anchorages we've seen, it's quite empty.
I cast a spinner and within minutes hooked a striped bass. A local canoeist came by and asked if we knew about the eagles. He pointed out an island from where we could hear a bird calling. 'That's a young bald eagle calling for his mom to hurry up with supper,' he said, and went on to explain that this fledgling is six weeks old, has just learned to fly, is about the same size as his parents but does not yet have the distinctive 'bald' patch.
Later we rowed to a part of the shore which is a nature conservancy area gifted by a local benefactor to keep it clear of developers. We followed the canoeists directions and were soon rewarded with a close up view of the eagles. As a rule, you look first for bare trees. The eagles destroy trees they perch on with several generations worth of toxic guano. On one bare tree we saw the youngster, then followed the sound of his mother's distinctive call to catch a glimpse of her as well. In fact, she was perched right above where we had hauled out the dinghy.
As calmly and quietly as possible we retraced our steps to the beach and the dinghy and were able to lie down for a quarter of an hour watching her through the binoculars. Quite a sight. The bald eagle up close looks unnervingly like the CIA emblem.
She preened herself, scanned the shore with those incredible eyes, and took to the wing out of sight around a headland. Suitably impressed by this close encounter with America's national symbol we rowed back to the yacht, swatting insects all the way.