On Nessie's Island

Day 326: Locals will tell you stories about the monster in these waters; "Nessie," they call her, after that more famous monster of Scotland's Loch Ness. Like the Scottish Nessie, no one has any viable proof of her existence, and thus the unbelievers scoff and scorn reports. But I know Nessie is real. A little over five years ago, she nearly gobbled two good friends who had gone to look for a geocache bedded on her spine.

It was March, and even in summer, these deep waters are cold. In March, the winds blow and the whitecaps rise, and the water temperature plummets to just a few degrees above freezing. Jeff and Dan had found the cache and were on their way back, dressed in heavy coats and foul-weather gear, when Nessie rose. She capsized their canoe and plunged them into the frigid waves. They had time to struggle out of some of their gear before the bite of hypothermia set in, blunting their senses, and it was only by great good fortune that a homeowner on the shoreline saw them go over. That samaritan put in a call to 911, and again by a stroke of luck, the firehouse was nearby.

When the two men were pulled from the water, Dan (more heavily fleshed) was coherent. Jeff did not respond. Both were hustled to the hospital. Several hours later, I got a call. Dan was going to be okay, but Jeff was not out of danger.

The following afternoon, Jeff was also released. Neither man remembers much about their experience, and their geocaching logs say simply, "Piece of cake." There are some things you just can't talk about, and an encounter with Nessie ranks high on the list.

Nessie was snoozing when I put into port on her shoulder today. She did not stir when I retrieved the geocache from its position between her vertebrae. But I did not take a single step without having Dan and Jeff at the forefront of my mind.