The fog is lifting, the lake is calm. The only sound you hear at six in the morning is the chirping of birds. Soon, I will head out to fish around the exterior of Russell Island, which we have renamed Grandad Island, in honor of my esteemed father in law. There are several patches of grass that have yielded some impressive bass this month.
On one trip I stumbled across a curious thing. At the northern tip of the island, there are two metal chairs that have been placed on the edge of the water, I suppose for sunset viewing, but it’s something of a mystery since the island is uninhabited. Upon closer inspection of these chairs, I discovered what looked like a wooden walkway, much like the walkway of a dock, only it was laying flat across the rocks at the edge of the water...
It’s old and weathered with the names of 13 people carved into the planks. This is the sort of thing that could inspire the imagination of a certain writer. What is the story here? Who are these people? Who were they? Are they dead now? Why are their names carved into this 15 foot long plank, and why is it laying at the edge of the water of an uninhabited island on an obscure lake in Maine? I parked the kayak for a closer look. I ran my fingers over the letters trying to picture their faces.
But this curiosity isn’t unique on Crawford Pond. On the big island called, unimaginatively, 100 Acre Island, on the eastern side there is a huge rock that protrudes out into the water, large enough to park the kayak and explore. The rock juts out of the water about ten feet high and sixty feet wide. But what intrigued me the most were the three bronze plaques that had been embedded in the front surface of the giant rock, each declaring the deaths of people who had some emotional connection to the lake, one a teenager, judging by the birth and death dates. The plaques stated the name, birth and death dates and one sentence to summarize the life lived. Lover of the Lake, Founder of Lake Association and champion of its care...
These discoveries have done nothing to discourage my conviction that every lake we have ever stayed on here is shrouded in mystery. First of all, these lakes are ancient, created by receding glaciers. Secondly, they freeze over every winter, solid and impenetrable for months. For a southerner like me, this is unfathomable and makes me wonder what the place is up to all winter. Whenever there is a “cold snap” in Short Pump during our winter with the high temperature in the 20’s for a week or so, I glance at my weather app and notice that Searsmont, Maine can look forward to a week of single digit highs and subzero lows, making me wonder what Quantabacook looks like, and what on Earth is going on in its frozen depths. The imagination stirs, crowding out the mundane cares of the real world. Who are the 13 people carved into the weather-beaten planks? How did such a large and heavy thing find its way onto an uninhabited island?
Inquiring minds want to know.
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