by Roland D. Hallee

Reprinted from 2015

We haven’t had one of these in a long time, so it was kind of timely because it happened on one of our last fishing outings of the season. With summer officially ending on September 21, my wife and I are preparing to close camp, so the boat will be coming out of the water soon.

What is it you ask?

A fishing story.

Anyone who has done some significant amount of fishing can attest that sometimes weird things happen while on the water. It can involve birds, mammals, or anything related to nature, including fish.

For instance, recently, while fishing near the large island on Webber Pond, we heard this rather loud splash in the water. In the past we have experienced ospreys go into their kamikaze dive to catch a fish, or a large bass coming to the surface to grab something to eat. On occasion, it could be a loon. On that particular day, that large splash was made by a deer. We don’t know what happened, because we didn’t see, just heard. But the deer was in the water, chest deep, working its way back toward the island. As always, once it reached some vegetation, it disappeared.

But this next one is a fishing story. This is not a fabrication.

We were about to wrap up the fishing for the day, having spent a little over four hours on the pond, when I felt a “hit.” Once I set the hook, I could tell this was going to be a nice fish. I began the process of bringing the fish toward the boat. It was putting up a pretty good fight, finally breaking water and going into its routine of trying to release itself from the hook. It jerked and twisted while doing its “dance” on the water.

The fish wasn’t successful so the struggle continued. As I got the fish closer to the boat, it decided to dive aft. This is when things got really interesting. The bass had managed to get directly under the boat, or so I thought. My fishing rod was completely bent in half, with the tip of the rod nearly touching the water. At this point, I could no longer pull the fish toward the surface nor take up any more line on the reel.

I told my wife, “grab the net, we are now in a Mexican standoff.” The fish was pulling as hard from his end as I was from mine. After what seemed like an eternity, the line finally succumbed to the stress, and broke.

Disappointed, I had to investigate as to why I could not land the fish. I figured the bass had to have snagged itself somewhere under the boat. I first checked the side where I have a diving platform. That is the usual culprit. Nothing there. Next, I checked the fin on the lower unit of the motor, nothing. “OK, it’s got to be the prop,” I thought. A quick check of the propeller showed no sign of a fishing line. However, I did notice the anchor line coming across just below the prop, a strange place for it to be.

Closer inspection showed me that the hook, with lure still attached was imbedded in the anchor line. I always try to steer the fish away from that area, but this one had decided, with authority, that is where it wanted to go.

Wait a minute! I noticed something else when I saw the hook and lure. I could see eyes staring back at me. I grabbed the anchor and started to pull it up from the bottom of the lake, and there it was. The fish was still attached to the hook and lure, and tangled in the anchor rope. The fish was hauled into the boat, and the usual ceremony took place. Free the fish from the line, measure and weigh, photo op, and back into the water. It wasn’t a giant: 18-inches, 3-1/2 pounds, but it fought like a whale.

Another fish story to tell my grandkids and great-grandkids, because my friends don’t believe it.

WINTER PREDICTION UPDATE

I promised I would keep you updated on my observations regarding the winter prediction. Well, things haven’t changed much. I have seen many squirrels out and about, and all of them have had a skinny tail, indicating a mild winter. Last Friday evening, I saw my first wooly bear caterpillar. He was about one third rust colored, and two-thirds black, a sign of a relatively tough winter. Again, conflicting indicators.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

Who is the longest reigning heavyweight boxing champion with 25 successful title defenses.

Answer can be found here.

by Roland D. Hallee

Well, we are approaching that sad time of year when my wife and I are readying to shutter camp for the winter. It’s with mixed emotions because we really enjoy camp (we live there from May to October), but it’s football season, and we are both avid New England Patriots fans, and home is where we like to be for Sunday afternoon kickoffs.

The big question that comes to mind is which do we prefer, the sounds of the loons’ eerie calls in the night, the barred owls caterwauling at each other in the early morning hours, peepers in the spring and all the other wonderful sounds of nature, or… the sounds of ridiculously large pickup trucks revving their oversized engines with the loud exhaust belching fumes and smoke into the air, squealing tires, police sirens blaring at all hours of the night, barking dogs, arguing neighbors, etc? Living in the middle of Waterville, those sounds always make me think, “Welcome home.” I think the answer to my question is a no-brainer.

With that in mind, here are some of the more memorable things that I witnessed this past summer at camp.

First, we’ll talk about the bald eagles consistently seen circling over Webber Pond in search of food. On two occasions this past summer, while fishing, we witnessed bald eagles come swooping down from a high perch in the trees, to scoop up fish from the surface of the water with their sharp, deadly talons. One time the bird came as close as 20 yards from our boat. The second time, it was a little further away, but still as magnificent.

Then, there was the morning when, on my way to work on the Seaward Mills Road, in Vassalboro, I saw a rafter of geese crossing the road in front of me. I had to come to a standstill because one of the adult turkeys was stationed smack in the middle of the road while the rest of the brood crossed, in single file, with an adult leading the way. That turkey resembled a school crossing guard as he stopped traffic for the kids to cross.

Not two long after, on the same road, I saw another flock of turkeys crossing the road, but this time they were accompanied by a house cat, who showed all the techniques of a border collie herding sheep. It would move around the flock to keep the young ones in line as they navigated the asphalt. Quite something to see. The cat showed no interest in harming any of the fowl.

There was also the night, which I mentioned before in this column, of the barred owls as they caterwauled to each other late one night. They started quite innocently as you would expect to hear an owl. These, being barred owls, would call out “who cooks for you, who cooks for you, all.” However, the calling began to intensify and before long the calls began to sound like barking dogs, something I had never heard before from barred owls.

Finally, in mid-May, there was the night we heard noises off in the distance that sounded like a small dog wailing from discomfort. It was a yelping sound, followed by a whine. “An injured dog,” was the first thought. However, as the sound persisted, it became clear that the calling was from red foxes calling out to each other during the mating season. The foxes have been around all summer, but the callings have stopped.

Nature has sounds of its own, and even though they can be loud at times, still trump (Oops, there’s that word, again) the sounds of the city.

Every year, the weekend after Labor Day, we make a fishing trip to Nesowadnehunk Lake, in a remote area abutting Baxter Park to the west, where we can lay in our cots in the tent, and listen to the coyotes howl in the distance. Ah, the wonderful sounds to which to fall asleep.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

What was the name of the fictitious former Boston Red Sox relief pitcher played by Ted Danson in the hit TV comedy Cheers?

Answer can be found here.

Crane fly

by Roland D. Hallee

Have you ever gone to bed on a warm summer night, and seen this thing flying around that resembles a large mosquito?

It happens to me all the time at camp.

Sitting up in bed, grabbing the book I’m reading, or possibly a magazine for some light and quick reading. And, there it is, buzzing around the light, and becoming extremely annoying. It looks like a giant mosquito.

One of my relatives recently posted a photo on Facebook of that exact same insect on her arm. In the posting, she notes, “it’s a good thing I’m not afraid of spiders.” Wait a minute, this insect has six legs. All arachnids have eight legs. That is not a spider.

Well, I quickly fired off an email to my biologist contact at the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, along with the photo. It didn’t take long to receive a reply.

His response was, “this is a cranefly, a true fly in the order Diptera, and probably from the family Tipulidae. There are over 1,500 species of Craneflies in North America and possibly several hundred in Maine. The adults are harmless, some species not feeding at all, and some species feeding predominantly on nectar.”

In colloquial speech, the cranefly is sometimes called Daddy Longlegs, a term also used to describe opiliones, or harvestmen, both of which are arachnids. The larvae of the cranefly are known commonly as leatherjackets.

Craneflies are found worldwide, though individual species usually have limited ranges.

The adult crane fly, like mentioned earlier, resembles an oversized mosquito, and has stilt-like legs that are deciduous, easily coming off the body.

The adult female usually contains mature eggs as she emerges from her pupa, and often mates immediately if a male is available. Adult craneflies have a lifespan of 10 – 15 days. Cranefly larvae (leatherjackets) have been observed in many habitat types on dry land and in water. They are cylindrical in shape, but taper toward the front end, and the head capsule is often retracted into the thorax. Larvae may eat algae, microflora, and living or decomposing plant matter, including wood. Some are predatory.

The sole purpose of the adult crane fly is to mate and, for the females, to lay eggs for next spring’s crop of flies. Crane flies are harmless to handle, so the next time one makes its way indoors, simply cup it gently to release outdoors. Think of it as a romantic gesture.

Some lavae species consume some living aquatic insects and invertebrates, which could potentially include mosquito larvae. Many, however, because of their short lifespan, never eat at all.

Numerous other common names have been applied to the crane fly. Many of the names are more or less regional in the U.S., including mosquito hawk, mosquito eater, gallinipper, and gollywhopper.

There are other misconceptions about the crane fly.

There is an enduring urban legend that crane flies are the most venomous insects in the world, but have no ability to administer the venom; this is not true. The myth likely arose due to their being confused with the cellar spider as they are also informally called “daddy longlegs”, and although the arachnid does possess venom, it is not especially potent.

Despite widely held beliefs that adult crane flies prey on mosquito populations, the adult crane fly is anatomically incapable of killing or consuming other insects.

Crane flies are generally thought as agricultural pests. Since the late 1900s they have become invasive in the United States. The larvae have been observed on many crops, including vegetables, fruits, cereals, pasture, lawn grasses and ornamental plants.

Should you kill crane flies? Adult crane flies are harmless and do not feed on blood. However, crane fly larva, known as leatherjackets, can cause damage to your lawn. You can kill the flies immediately with an insecticide or you can take preventative measures by killing their larva.

First, you must use home remedies with essential oils to prevent adult crane flies. It will also prevent them from laying their eggs in your garden or lawn. There are many essential oils that you can use to make your treatment, the most common being lavender, and peppermint oil.

It is harmless to humans, can be a nuisance to agriculture, but I wish it would stop reading over my shoulder.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

Which Red Sox relief pitcher appeared in a record 81 games during the 2005 season?

Answer can be found here.

by Roland D. Hallee

“It’s that time of year, again.” Probably one of the most over used phrases in the English language, and one that I loathe to hear. Why? Because when you come right down to it, everyday is that time of year for something. Anyway, here we go.

It’s that time of the year again when snapping turtles appear everywhere to lay their eggs. Just this past week I have seen at least a half dozen snappers on the side of the road; saw one person stop to help it across the road, and I myself have done it once on the Nelson Road, in Vassalboro.

And, two concientious young citizens, Bella and Sophie Lefferts, have created and placed signs along a stretch of Village Street, in South China, proclaiming, “Take it Slow, Turtles Crossing.”

Snapping turtles, Chelydra s. serpentina, range across the eastern United States to the Rocky Mountains, from southern Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, and into Central America.

common snapping turtle

The snapping turtle can be easily recognized by its dark upper shell with a deeply serrated back margin, and a small bottom shell that does not completely cover all of the animal’s flesh. The upper shell can measure between 8 – 12 inches in length on average in adults, and it can weigh between 10-35 pounds. These turtles have long tails, often measuring as long or longer than the shell, and is covered with bony plates. They also have a large head, long neck, and a sharp, hooked upper jaw. This hard beak has a rough cutting edge that is used for tearing food.

Once turtles mature and their shell hardens, they are virtually predator-free.

If you see a snapping turtle crossing the road, and decide to help it out, always make sure you relocate it on the side of the road in which it was headed. If not, it will only try to cross the road again. It’s obviously headed in a direction that is important to it. Always use caution when picking one up. Place your thumbs in the center of the upper shell, and the rest of your hand on its stomach. Be careful not to make contact with its mouth. It could be painfully uncomfortable if it were to bite you.

Never use a broom or shovel to help it along, as you could injure the turtle.

The female turtle will lay eggs in sandy, soft soil between April and November, depending on its location. In our area, they usually lay their eggs in May and June. That is why the shoulder of a road looks inviting to them. Be on the lookout, and try to avoid the nest. The female will generally lay between 10 and 50 eggs, and they take three to four months to hatch. Interestingly, eggs incubated at 68 degrees will produce only females; eggs maintained at 70-72 degrees will produce both male and female and those incubated at 73-75 degrees produce only males.

The female will dig a nest, lay the eggs, using her back feet to position them, and then bury the clutch. That makes the nest extremely vulnerable, and is usually a target for raccoons who consider the turtle eggs a delicacy. Skunks, crows, dogs and other mammals are also culprits. It is estimated that up to 90 percent of the nests are destroyed by predators. Countless turtles are also killed or injured on roads during their terrestrial treks. Despite this high rate of mortality, snapping turtles are not endangered, although some states have placed a ban on harvesting them.

The Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife (MDIF&W) has voted to outlaw the commercial harvest of snapping turtles. It was urged by then-Commissioner Lee Perry to support the ban, to ensure the sustainability of snappers, which don’t breed until 20 years of age in the north. “While I have no reason to believe that snapping turtles are threatened with extinction in Maine, there is reason to be concerned about the viability of the population,” he said.

Snapping turtles typically live until between 20 and 50 years of age in captivity, although records are poor as to the actual longevity of turtles in the wild. Some studies have indicated that snapping turtles can live well over 100 years.

However, turtles are not innocent victims. They may cause depredation at privately-owned ponds, fish farms, or waterfowl sanctuaries and control methods may be warranted. They will feed on plants, insects, spiders, worms, fish, frogs, small turtles, snakes, birds, crayfish, small mammals and carrion.

It’s important to be on the lookout for turtles this time of year. By driving defensively and keeping alert to conditions on the road, motorists should be able to avoid hitting a turtle.

Have you ever heard the riddle, “If a turtles leaves its shell, is it naked or homeless?”

Well, the answer is: it is not possible for a turtle to “lose” its shell. Their shell is part of them just as much as our skeleton is a part of us. The turtle is connected to its shell through its nerves, skin, ribs, and spinal cord.

I guess you learn something everyday.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

What do the “away” jerseys of the Boston Red Sox say on the front, Boston or Red Sox?

Answer can be found here.

Bald eagle, left, and golden eagle.

by Roland D. Hallee

Sitting with friends around a camp fire a while back, one of the neighbors said, that while kayaking that afternoon, she had seen a Golden eagle. I immediately chimed in that they were an endangered species, and were not known to exist in Maine (according to something I had read years ago).

The following day, while taking a boat ride around Webber Pond with some friends who are year-round residents on the pond, he asked if we had seen the Golden eagles. That did it.

Was it possible for Golden eagles to exist on Webber Pond. My friend went on to say he had witnessed them on the ice during the winter, actually devouring some fish that had been left on the ice by fishermen.

To prove his point, he steered the party boat toward the west shore of Webber Pond, where, high in the top of a tree, was this large nest, occupied by some rather large birds. We were not able to discern what was occupying the nest from that distance. Bald eagles were circling in the area. I was still not sold.

Well, research taught me that Golden eagles, one of the largest and fastest of raptors in North America, do exist in Maine, although a rarity, mainly to the west and north of Moosehead Lake. So, now are they moving east in our state? Maine hosts golden eagles in all seasons, but is currently on the edge of both the breeding and wintering range in the East. Most migrants in the East pass west of Maine. Very few golden eagles are in the state at any time of year.

Golden eagles, Equila chrysaetos, can be found throughout the northern hemisphere. A large population exists in the western Rockies and north into Alaska. In the east, a small breeding population occurs in Maine, Labrador and Québec Province, although its range is greatly reduced from its former extent down the Appalachians to North Carolina.

According to Cornell University Lab of Ornithology, Golden eagle populations appear to have been stable between 1966 and 2014. Partners in Flight estimates their global breeding population to be 300,000, with 35 percent spending some part of the year in the U.S.

Golden eagles are listed as an endangered species in Maine. The decline in their numbers is directly attributed to environmental contaminants, especially DDT, that caused reproductive impairment during the post World War II era. Although these contaminants are now banned, they still persist in the birds’ bodies. Maine’s golden eagles depend heavily on wading birds as prey, which had high levels of contaminants. Five dead golden eagles have been found since 1985. Golden eagle eggs recovered from a nest in 1996 showed high levels of DDE, a variant of DDT.

Golden eagle populations have declined in the east throughout the 20th century, and were extirpated 20-40 years ago in the eastern states. Only 10 nesting territories have been documented with certainty, but at least 18 more locations are suspected. Six successful nesting attempts were recorded at three Maine eyries [nests of birds of prey] from 1955-1967. Goldens disappeared from Oxford, Franklin and Somerset counties during the 1980s. The last known nesting pair in Maine existed until 1999, then disappeared completely. That pair was heavily contaminated and had not produced young since 1986.

Today, Golden eagles can fall prey to collisions with automobiles, wind turbines, and other structures or from electrocution at power poles. Urbanization, agricultural development and changes in wildfire regimes have compromised nesting and hunting grounds.

There have been sporadic sightings of Golden eagles in recent years, and it is hoped that individual eagles from Canada may be moving into previously unoccupied eyries. Counts at hawk watch sites seem to indicate the Eastern population is slowly recovering. Golden eagles still nest in Québec and Labrador. As a result, they are spotted annually in Maine during migration season.

Adults may live 15 – 20 years in the wild, although they have been known to live 46 years in captivity. The oldest recorded Golden eagle in the wild was at least 31 years, 8 months old when it was found in Utah in 2012.

Once I was almost convinced the two friends thought they had seen golden eagles, I asked if they had misidentified immature bald eagles, which resemble each other. Both told me the birds they saw were much larger than bald eagles. My skepticism continues. Golden eagle wingspans can extend up to six feet, with a 40-inch body, and can weigh 8 – 13 pounds. Bald eagles have a body length of up to 40 inches, with wingspans of 6 – 7.5 feet, and a body weight of between 6.5 – 14 pounds. Many sources say the bald eagle has sometimes been considered the largest true raptor in North America, outsizing the Golden eagle. I summary, Bald eagles are larger than Golden eagles.

Golden eagles are uniformly brown throughout their lives. They get their name from amber or golden highlights on the head and neck. Golden eagles have shorter hawk-like bills, their lower legs are feathered to the ankles, and they soar with slightly uplifted wings, whereas a bald eagle flies with its wings stretched straight out so you can see their “fingers.” Golden eagles remain with the same mate for life. The female is larger than the male, otherwise, they look identical.

Sightseers and photographers should stay away from the nest during the nesting season, which is February through August. Like bald eagles, golden eagles are disturbed by human activities near the nests. Humans should avoid the nests during the nesting period.

Wintering areas for Maine golden eagles can stretch to the Maritime Provinces, depending on the availability of food. Their normal diet consists of ground squirrels, marmots, ptarmigan and seabirds.

I’m still not convinced they saw Golden eagles on Webber Pond.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

Who holds the Boston Red Sox career record for being hit by a pitch, Mo Vaughn, Kevin Youkilis or Jim Rice?

Answer can be found here.