We took a later start this morning in an attempt to not wear our selves out too much - we are all nearing the end of our tether with muscle and joint soreness.  Of course when you plan for an easy day it  never goes as planned . . . . We began by precariously lowering all our gear back down the sheer 30 foot drop that we had ascended the night before - a very delicate operation indeed when you are juggling 60 pound food barrels!

 

As we paddled through the swamp once again, the wind was threatening to blow us right off the water- just like yesterday but now even worse.  In the first hour we only made 3.5 km - a bit depressing considering all the work and sweat! This morning as we glided past yellow waterlilies and other swamp plants we couldn't help but notice the abundance of Western Grebes.  A beautiful and delicate black and white water bird with a thin neck, long yellow beak and red eyes.  We don't see them every day, but here seemed to be the popular grebe hangout.  They are expert divers and have a habit of diving out of sight without leaving even a ripple in the water.

 

Suddenly right in front of us was a grebe that was not looking graceful at all, but floundering on top of the water.  One leg seem to be sticking out of the water at an odd angle and he was struggling to keep his head up and out.  As we came closer we could see fishing line everywhere and he was indeed quite tangled.  It must have been wrapped 50 times around his poor leg. Of course there was no way we could just paddle by without trying to help.  I can only imagine the fear this bird must have experienced as Mark and Anita's canoe closed in on one side and our canoe on the other. 

 

Mark took his big white tilley hat and placed it over the birds head and neck.  The poor grebe squawked at this but then settled right down.  I passed my pocket knife to Mark and then the operation began.  Mark snipped away with the little scissors on the knife while I held the hat in place.  Both his legs were entangled and much of his feathers and wings. Snip, snip, snip - the tension was killing all of us involved and I was terribly worried the bird would drown under the hat.  I lifted the hat just slightly to see if everything was alright and two beady red eyes stared right at me.  The hat quickly went back into place!  We discovered that it was actually a fishing net that he was wrapped in and once all the net was cut away from the birds body, the legs were easy.  All of a sudden it was done. 

 

Upon lifting the accusing hat from the bird we found that he was alive and well but a little confused.  He wasn't sure what to do next and so he looked straight at me, opened his beak really wide and squawked very loudly.  I took it as a 'thank you very much'.  He snipped at the air a few times, looked around and then realized he was free to go.  He dived under the water and was gone.  About 30 feet away he came back up and observed us safely from the distance before disappearing under the water again.  Ahh - it was such a relief to know he wasn't injured and that probably we had saved his life.  It was a really special moment for me and made the whole day worthwhile.

 

Hour 2 and we scored 5 kms, but by now the amount of work put forth to achieve so little forward direction was taking its toll on all of us.  We were exhausted and it just wasn't worth the effort anymore.  It was voted to sit out the wind for a few hours until things improved, have a leisurely lunch, nap, read and be guiltlessly lazy!!   This was all executed in our bug-shirts of course because the horse flies found us highly entertaining as per usual.  We are definitely excelling at living in bug-shirts - I have even figured out how to drink straight through the mesh on mine.

 

Thankfully the wind did die down considerably by 6:30PM and even though there was still choppy water, our canoes sliced through the water effortlessly.  What a joy.  The paddle this evening may have been my favorite paddle of the whole trip so far - paddling in the evening is always so peaceful and so romantic with the sun setting right in front of you.  Because of all the forest fires burning near by, the sun was especially orange - almost on par with an African sunset.  Later we would find out that 37 fires are burning all around us.  As the sun sinks, it seems to enlarge and grow redder causing the whole lake to become a delicate shade of orange.  Just before the sun disappeared, some wispy clouds crossed in front and now the sun was a glowing striped mass of glory.  Then it was gone.

 

We were welcomed by eighty pelicans and several hundred seagulls at the island closest to the town of Ile a La Cross.  This is where we will spend the next few days; resting, repairing gear, washing clothes, swimming and shopping for food in town.  Upon further exploration we discovered a long sandy beach just around the bay, plus loads of raspberries, strawberries and saskatoon berries.  WOW!!!  What a place to have to stay a while.  It's good to be alive.