He who bites last strikes home!

This little true story took place in 2002 at the old ferry docks on the East Side of Kootenay Lake, near Boswell. Now only the four pylons remain standing after all these years. The skies were blue and clear giving no indication of the drama about to unfold.

All summer long the Osprey pair, who were nesting a mile up the lake on the navigation beacon, worked intermittently at building, what looked like a cottage nest, on the furthest ferry pylon. By the looks of the half-hearted, on-off progress of the work, I felt that it was inspired by squabbles in the main nest.

Mrs. Osprey might say to Mr. O, “No fish no fries! Honey, go to the cottage and catch some fish! Oh no, don‘t even think of comin‘ home till you catch us some fish, Babe!”

That special day a Heron had ensconced itself on the ragged piece of work. Until this moment we had not seen an Osprey for days. The heat was oppressive, with the sun near noon. Mr. Heron barely had time to preen one wing before the action began.

Soon a shadow darkened the surroundings as the Osprey rolled into a steep dive from 12:00 o: clock high. Straight out of the sun he came on at perhaps 80mph in a stable dive. The only sound was a shrill scream as he whistled close past the dodging Heron. Next the attacker pulled up steeply, rolling into a wing-over to press home the attack again displaying his prowess as a pilot.

On the Osprey’s third harrowing pass the Heron lumbered off the perch and dove, almost to the lake, to gain the airspeed for recovery. With great effort in his flaps, the Heron began to fly, recovering airspeed only inches off the water.