Why does everyplace I sail seem to have its own special magic?
I haven't sailed all that many places, as of yet, but each and every place seems to be special.
I bought a boat
, about a year ago, and just managed to get it into the water
, for a couple of days shakedown before the end of the season.
She's not sailing, yet. I'm going to be re-rigging over the winter. So it was just a couple of days motoring on the lake. The Yanmar
works fine, the alternator
works fine. The thru-holes and the stuffing boxes don't leak.
I'd put her in the water
at Lake Pepin, on the Mississippi
river between Minnesota
and Wisconsin, about 60 miles SE of the Twin Cities. And I chose Pepin for no reason other than it had the closest affordable marina.
But Pepin is special, in it's own special way. It's one of the best bird-watching sites in the country. Millions of birds, of hundreds of different species, pass through it every year during their spring and summer migrations.
I wasn't there for bird watching, I wasn't nosing into the marshes where the large flocks gather, I was just motoring around the open lake. And I was weeks early for the fall migration.
Still, I saw birds out on the lake. Gulls, of course. Loons - which I'd never seen except on the far northern lakes.
And pelicans. I had never seen a pelican in Minnesota
. I'd seen Brown Pelicans in Florida
. I'd never seen a White Pelican, and I wasn't even aware that there were pelicans in Minnesota. But yesterday and today, there were dozens.