Duck Talk
Hello,
My name is Deborah Hart, and I am your Webmaster.
Please think about submitting for consideration: your photos, articles, stories, pictures of your original artwork, etc. to be included on this website.
I can be contacted, in regards to the website, directly at debthefroghearted@gmail.com
Looking forward to seeing you at the Lake!
Articles & Essays
Loon Lake - John Fisk
One of the most iconic occasions we all enjoy on Duck Lake is watching and listening to a loon just before sunset. Understanding their behavior only adds to that experience. The loon has been around for thousands of years. It is uniquely suited for fishing by diving and swimming long distances under water. To facilitate this its legs are located nearer to its tail than other waterfowl. When appreciating the feeding practices of birds on the water, the location of their legs facilitates different methods for feeding. Dabbling ducks such as mallards have legs more anteriorly near their chest. They dip forward down to feed in shallow water. They can walk easily on land. The divers with posteriorly located legs are great swimmers but because of the location of their legs walking on land is almost impossible. They slide on their bellies by pushing with their feet. All of this is to say loons must nest at water level along the shore. The wake of a boat or jet ski easily floods their nest.
This morning we awoke to a bright sunlight reflecting off a lake with a mirror image of the opposite shore and tree line. This is one of the very special views we enjoy from our deck. Then about 9 AM the water skiing began. The wake threw our boat against our dock and washed the shoreline with large wakes. Not only was our peaceful morning disrupted but we were concerned for the possible effect on shoreline nesting birds such as the loon and for bank erosion. Admittedly it was well after the young had hatched and fledged, but the practice of causing large wakes against the shore is one more example of concern for healthy lake stewardship.
When I was a teenager, I enjoyed skiing around our island in Kelsey’s Bay. When our children were teenagers, we did the same with them. Now we encourage our grandchildren and their parents to go out into the bigger part to the lake so that their wakes do not disrupt the shoreline.
This evening as we are sitting on our deck, we are watching only one loon where there had been many in the past. Please respect our shorelines by obeying the no wake zones out of concern for our iconic wildlife and for those cottagers who enjoy a quiet morning on the lake.
Spawning Pickerel - John Fisk
(This article originally appeared in our Spring 2019 newsletter)
We were dressed with at least five layers, insulated gloves and boots as we headed out across the lake long after sunset. The ice had gone out on the lake the day before. Our destination was a stream that in the summer is little more than a flowing brook. Tonight, it was a roaring torrent as the up lands were draining the spring melt. Our goal was to net spawning Yellow Pickerel known in the States as Walleyed Pike.
Our lake located at the headwaters of a forty-mile-long chain of lakes, has seen a decline in the numbers of Pickerel caught over the last three decades. Pickerel is a favorite game fish for the tourists who are the primary source of income for this remote region of Near Northern Ontario. Local residents had taken it upon themselves to obtain proper licensing and knowledge for operating a hatchery. Our team signed on to harvest fish in a lake where we all had cottages. It is one of the reasons my wife and I leave South Carolina to come north in early April.
Using strong spotlights, we nosed up into the rapids. One person was operating the motor; two worked the lights back and forth over the bottom of the shallows. When we spotted bright golden eyes on the bottom one of us would place a dip net into the water. The water temperature was 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The fish were sluggish although they had to be cautiously teased into the nets. The females ranged from 6 to 12 pounds; the males averaged much less. Our goal was four or five males for each female. Sexing the fish was easy as they were ready to spawn and easily oozed their gametes.
The fish were placed in separate tanks according to this gender for transport to shore where we had cages anchored in shallow water. The next day we would milk them. Using a stainless-steel bowl the eggs were mixed with sperm for a two-minute fertilization period. Beyond that time limit the sperm and the eggs if not fertilized would die. Clomping and adherence of the fertilized eggs to the bottom of the pan demonstrated what happens in nature where they would adhere to the rocks on the bottom of the stream. Next, we mixed the eggs into a clay solution for twenty minutes to discourage the adherence. Then they were rinsed in a fine mesh container before transporting them to the hatchery. Nineteen to 21 days later they will hatch and be returned to the same stream where we caught their parents. They too were returned to that same location.
The biologists working with the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources have estimated that only 2% of eggs spawned in the wild yield fry. They further estimate that 75% of those hatched in a hatchery reach that point. As we headed back to our cabins at 2am, cold and tired, we had a strong feeling of a successful evening. In the next three days we caught thirty fish yielding 300,000 eggs.
