Friday the 13th — October 2000Yes, Virginia, fall comes early to the Great White North. And under the Hunter Moon, low tide came early, too — about an hour before dawn.
Temperatures dipped into the low forties with a stiff westerly breeze rolling white caps up the channel against the ebbing tide. Atlantic sauries sailed the incoming waves, dancing over the rip like salmon climbing up-river to spawn. Stripers chased sauries to the rip line, then sea gulls took up the game. Like Australian rugby, they scrummed the "ball" and wrestled for control as fish would drop for an instant's freedom, only to be scooped by another player to begin the cycle once more. A lucky saury was dropped in a deep pocket and escaped, but the sorry ones [I apologize; I couldn't resist] fell in shallows and became breakfast kippers.
While the water was clear over the rip, in the pre-dawn darkness I could only see through the narrow beam of my headlamp. So, capturing a terrapin would require luck beyond skill. No heads would be visible this morning. As the tide neared low, I weighed leaving the frigid waters for a hot shower and a warm bed. But Friday the 13th proved particularly unlucky for Terrapin 957. She paddled along the bottom toward my feet, backlit by the setting moon and painted by the sweep of my headlight.
A nine-year-old female, she measured 17.3 centimeters carapace length and weighed a plump 880 grams. Rather sedate in the cold morning waters, she became more active in the warm protection of my carrying case.
The good news is that at least some terrapins, though not many, seem still active despite the cold. The bad news is that some terrapins remain active despite the cold and tomorrow morning's tide is a good one for turtling. | |||||||
