Big Lake

I put in on the big lake and head east, straight into the sun. It is very calm and the water has only the smallest of dimples on its surface.

Halfway across I spot some birds 200 yards to the north. They are smallish grebes moving in an orderly procession to the east. There are eleven. Ten dive, then the last one dives. They surface, then dive again. Having finished writing my observation, I pivot the canoe back towards the east. The grebes have vanished. I watch, but i never see them again.

Near the east shore, a large private Queen Mary approaches at flank speed. The driver alters course and swings wide of me. This is only worth noting because such behavior is so rare.

I paddle into and briefly look around Mydenbauer Bay. I see little of interest. It is all houses and no natural appearing shoreline. So, I head southwest towards the north end of Mercer Island.

I stop in mid-lake, somewhere west of Mercer Island, to eat lunch. The quarter moon is 52 degrees above the horizon and bearing 255 degrees true. Mt. Baker is about 015 degrees true. No one, even now, knows where I am except for me.