
The combatants

And so it begins..

The fishin' hole.

Somebody is watching me.
It was a dead calm morning, the mist had just risen off the lake, my favorite time of day to be fishing. The lake was mine, all mine, not a soul on it. I couldn't wait to get to my favorite hole in the weeds and shut off the motor to enjoy the peace and quiet. Sliding into the channel, I passed three loons making quite a racket, far beyond their usual haunting call. It appears that two males were having a heated discussion over the one female. It quickly passed the point of discussion and they started to go at it.
They tussled for more than a few minutes while my attention was drawn to a 30" pike just below the surface and I scrambled for my rod. I managed to take a couple of casts at it to no avail when suddenly the one broke loose from the fight and decided to make a swim for it. The other followed quickly after it, making sure that there was no doubt about the winner.
Funny thing about how loons travel very fast on the water. They stretch out, paddle like crazy with their feet, and use their wings in very short, very fast swimming strokes. They can REALLY move this way. I got a too close look at it because they aimed straight for me. It looked like two torpedoes coming at me, very noisy and splashy torpedoes. At the last second the first one turned and passed about 3 feet in front of my little boat and the chaser let him go.
Needless to say, my shot at that pike was gone, and they passed by way too fast for a picture. Peace had returned to the lake and I continued on to my fishin' hole.