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Nothing really common about Common Loon
This article previously appeared in the Kennebec Journal
by Rex Turner
While I don't usually subscribe to this motto, there are times when ignorance is bliss (or at least convenient). A case in point is my learning the origin of the word "loon." Before passing on the details of this linguistic origin, let me first share one quick anecdote about these iconic, feathered neighbors. After all, a little reverence is in order before the loon name gets a blow to its esteem.
I won't even try to convey the experience of hearing loon wails, yodels, and tremolos across a blackened pond on a still night, because I can't do them justice. I do have a few experiences that stand out for me -- those I will quickly mention.
While sharing a small pond in the Moose River drainage with a loon, I found out first hand that they are better at fishing than me (no surprise). The point was driven home as I stood in my canoe stripping a Mickey Finn streamer fly through the clear water. Just after hooking into what felt like a respectable brook trout, I made eye contact with one of the loon's red eyes. "Don't do it", I muttered. I had no such luck. I watched this sleek, agile bird use its legs to propel itself like a nimble submarine through the water. I lost sight of him, and then I felt a heavy tug on my fly line. Up popped the loon, who seemed to glance at me as he slurped down a nice trout. I didn't really mind losing the fish, especially after getting a view of his skill. My concern centered around his ingesting a hook, which, based on his subsequent behavior, he did not.
This experience stands out when I think about loons. It is memorable largely because I saw first hand how graceful loons can be. With this in mind, I was rather disappointed when I researched where the word "loon" comes from.
"Loon", according to many sources, comes from the Scandinavian word "lom." Lom translates to clumsy. Therefore, the marvelous swimmer who stole my fish is, etymologically speaking, a clumsy oaf. How could this be?
Loons, more specifically common loons (Gavia immer), take advantage of a habitat that provides them all they need to survive and generate a next generation. However, there are evolutionary trade-offs that these birds developed about 60 million years ago (they evidently worked things out quite early). One big sacrifice is the ability to be good at walking on land. Loons' legs are set far back on their bodies. So, they are excellent swimmers, but poor walkers (hence, the clumsy reference in their name).
OK, so loons are clumsy on land. Big deal, right? Actually, it is a big deal. This awkwardness on land directly affects the nesting strategy loons use. Loons nest on shorelines, preferably in areas protected from wind and waves. They especially like small islands, where less land-based predators are prone to coming around. And since they are not exactly ballerinas on land, they need to nest right on the edge, where the water meets the land. This approach maximizes their strengths (swimming, diving) while minimizing their weaknesses (walking). It does come with risks, though.
Nesting on the water's edge leaves loons' eggs vulnerable to rising water levels. So, it's no surprise that I'm hearing loon chick sightings are down this year. All the late spring rain we received raised lake levels and made keeping loon eggs warm a tough endeavor.
Weather and predation aren't the only threat to loons. Wake from boat traffic can make an otherwise calm (and therefore well-situated) nest site dangerously "wet and wild." Lead fishing sinkers and jig heads, now outlawed in Maine, can be ingested by loons with fatal results. Elevated levels of mercury in waters can magnify as the toxin moves through the food chain (bioaccumulation). Considering that loons eat fish (primarily) and the occasional crayfish, they sit high on the lake food chain.
The result is that airborne mercury originating from sources such as coal plants and waste incinerators many states away is deposited in our waters, where it finds its way into living tissue. Since mercury is a neurotoxin, it has the potential for tremendous impacts on health and behavior. For more information on threats to loons, check out Maine Audubon's Web site (with 2006 loon count data by roughly November) found at: http://www.maineaudubon.org/conserve/loon/index.shtml. Also see Biodiversity Research Institute's site (www.briloon.org) for detailed information on mercury.
Even if the name "loon" comes from an old word for clumsy, they're an amazing bird. I couldn't think of a creature that better stands for the allure of the north woods. The cry of the loon sums up what's so special about where we live. And with that, I'll mention one last tidbit about the history of words -- there is often disagreement. I also found sources linking "loon" to "lomr", an Old Norse word meaning "to moan." I think I'll go with that one, for in the haunting moans of loons is the essence of our lakes.
Rex Turner lives in Augusta and writes columns for the Morning Sentinel and Kennebec Journal.