My Friends, the Webb Rocks

 This post is for Sean Minear, who has Under-Water-Rock-A-Phobia.  Abraham Lincoln is attributed with making a statement paraphrased as: "If I don't like a man, I need to get to know him better."  I struggle to find the source or documentation for this quote, but the sentiment is offered to Sean with particular regard to the rocks below the surface of Lake Webb. 

The view under the lake surface is as beautiful and intriguing as the view above the lake.  While Bass Rock (also called Elephant Rock) is obviously publicly named as is Bowley Rock (also called Center Rock) as well as the reef called Dee Dee, many large, spectacular and interesting erratic rocks left by the receding glacier and moved each winter by the lake's ice remain publicly unnamed.  I've taken the liberty to name some of them. 

Elephant Skin Rock and What's That Rock: 

Elephant Skin Rock is just south of the cigarette buoy that marks the shallow rocky area off of Pine Point.  When (without explanation) I mention "Elephant Skin Rock" to Rod Alexander who also shares an interest in the underwater rocks, he begins laughing: he knows the rock well because the glacial markings make it appear like wrinkled elephant skin. Paul and I stood on Elephant Skin Rock several years ago, surveying Pine Point.  Paul pointed at a rock protruding out of the water just to the south, towards Estabrook's place.  "What's that rock?" he asked.  "Ok," I said  And now the rock has a name: What's That Rock. 

Bowley Rock (Also called Center Rock):

Years ago, the boys' camp was responsible for marking the reefs and rocks in the lake.  Bowley Rock was a challenge to find (unless you didn't want to find a rock, then somehow it can be too easy to find, but more on that later).  One year in the early 1970's the boys marking the lake spent a couple hours searching for the rock, then after finding it, mistakenly dropped their marking equipment into the depths beside the rock. I'm sure their disappointed howls could be heard at all camps around the shore.  They decided to leave a Young Henry Blau standing ankle-deep on the rock while they fetched replacement tools.  Henry sported a wild and large head of hair at the time and smiled broadly and waved gently at confused boaters as they passed, staring at the apparent apparition. Since I heard that story, I like to call Bowley Rock, "Henry's Rock." 

Millings (Dick Miller, sailing master in the late '40's and early '50's) and Bob Page (sailing master in the '40's) were out searching for Bowley to mark it for the season while Bud Sengelmann (more formally known as Dr. Henry Peter Sengelmann, but camper at the time) was speeding around in the sturdy Snipe.  While Millings and Bob wanted (and struggled) to find Bowley, Bud did not want to find the rock. Millings remembers Bud yelling, "Hey Bob, I found Dee Dee for you,"  Millings and Bob turned their heads to see Bud aboard the Snipe as the craft teetered on top of Bowley. 

Swimming to Bowley Rock is a joy for the marvelous destination point it offers.  My route in the water cuts across boating lanes; I'm sure to swim with an orange buoy and at early morning hours.  Summer 2020, Camille joined me, excited for the swim.  As we approached the rock, several smaller rocks appear below the surface before Bowley Rock appears in our underwater vision.  "Is that it?" Camille asked me when she saw one of the smaller rocks.  "If you have to ask, it's not Bowley," I replied.  I stayed behind her as she discovered the immense rock rising from the depths and creating a mesa top on which likely a dozen people could comfortably stand.  As she felt the warm slippery rock, her eyes were big.  We stood on the rock together, waving at an early morning fisherman and remembering Henry.  Unbeknownst to us at the time, Henry happened to be looking at the lake from his perch on Center Hill and using a powerful zoom lens, snapped a photo of us waving.  

Bass Rock, The Crescent Rocks, Northern Launches, Paul's Rock: 

Bass Rock is a first destination point for swimmers who visit me and want to swim a long distance in the lake.  It's across the lake from our place on FireLane 6 and is just off the Government Beach. For people swimming at the Government Beach, it's a quick swim and fun destination for the jumping opportunities.  On my way from FireLane 6, I pass over the center reefs, which I like to call islands, because that's what they used to be. My route to the rock delivers me about 50 yards south of Bass Rock because the islands are too shallow to swim over.  At the south end of the last island before the rock lies a set of large rocks 5-8 feet below the surface arranged in a crescent.  These are the Crescent Rocks.  Unprepped, I asked Rod Alexander where he thought the Crescent Rocks were. He pinpointed them exactly. 

The north side of Bass Rock is shaped like small shelf just below the surface, perfect for sitting and chatting with my dad in the boat or for looking out at Tumbledown Mountain.  If there are folks jumping off Bass Rock, I swim just north of the rock to the Northern Launches. The two NL rocks are just north of Bass Rock and offer me an alternative standing point and a place from which I can launch my trip to Bowley Rock or to Paul's Rock.  

Paul likes to explore the rocks in the reef; the northernmost cigarette buoy marking center reef is beside some small rocks worthy of a brief visit or "King of the Mountain" game. Paul's Rock is one of these and is a nice stopping point on the way home from either Bowley or Bass Rocks. 

Missed-ry Rock and the Pod Rocks: 

In the days when my dad would paddle a canoe beside me while I swam, we passed by the south end of center reef.  As one of the boys from the camp who marked the rocks in the 1940's and 1950's, he focused deeply on the rocks in that region. He showed me a large, wonderfully standable rock on the south end of one of the reefs.  Each summer, I try to find that rock, but it's difficult to find as there are so many buoys and it's not right next to one of them.  There are years I wonder if it exists, so I began to think of it as the Mystery Rock.  Then when I find it, I realize that I've simply missed it on my previous swims. Thus, it's the Missed-ry Rock.  

Summer 2022, Paul and I were looking for the Missed-ry Rock, which stands alone.  The lake was low. We discovered a set -- a pod, if you will -- of rocks that are large and huddled together on the south side of the reef.  Paul asked, "Is one of these the Missed-ry Rock?"  I answered, "No, the Missed-ry Rock stands alone."  The next day, when deciding where to swim, Paul suggested we swim to the Pod Rocks; a name was born. 

Dee Dee: 

In the center of the lake down by the boys' camp is a cigarette buoy marking a reef campers call Dee Dee. I don't know the source of the name, but Dee Dee has a long and fabled history.  Dee Dee refers to a set of large rocks just below the surface, made more distinctive by man-made efforts nearly a century ago when the boy's camp needed to dispose of boats.  They loaded up the boats with rocks, thus sinking the boats around Dee Dee.  The first time I explored the region around the rocks of Dee Dee with my goggles, I could see the boats and the placement of the large rocks in one of the boats.  This was in the mid 1980's.  Now the boats are splitting and spreading apart, but straight boards can be identified as the remains of the boats.  

***

When I swim to the rocks, I know to look for them.  Surprises, and especially large and very unforgivingly hard surprises, can be scary; I understand Under-Water-Rock-A-Phobia.  But as I approach a large, known rock, I enjoy feeling the smooth plant life that clings to it in the summer. I enjoy feeling the solar warmth released from the rock. I enjoy exploring the rock's surface, seeing if there's a scar from a recent boat impact.  I enjoy finding small sunfish, warming themselves in the crevices in the sides of the rocks. 

I especially enjoy being Out-Standing-On-My-Rock.  


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Goal

What is the source of the magnetism of the town of Weld, Maine?  Myths, legends, truths, and stories surrounding a town create a definition and understanding of the townspeople and the place.  This book endeavors to preserve some town tales, to capture a few of the personalities that compose the town, and to shed light on the events that define the story of Weld, Maine 04285. 
Read more

RAM: Meeting Huck WIlliams

 1964 through likely 1970 or so, my family rented a cabin from Huck on the Williams Beach.  July of 1964, Huck was giving us a tour of the place and was so pleased with a recent improvement he had made.  He grinned widely and with obvious pride.  He had installed "a flush." For his expression, you would think it was coated in gold. For many of us, it seemed to be.  Richard A. Miller
Read more

RAM and Huck Williams's Prank

 In his truck, Huck and a friend visited Mr. Demars who was the self-employed woodcutter at Chase's Corner on the Phillips Road. The friend found it curious that they arrived with already cut wood in the back of the truck, but thought nothing of it until they left and the truck bed was empty. Huck had taken the opportunity to quietly and unobtrusively unload his cut wood on top of Mr. Demars's pile on the perimeter of the Phillip's Road property.  On the way home, Huck was smiling out of the side of his mouth, like he always did. "He gonna ponder that all Winta," Huck said, closing his lips tightly around his smile.  Years later, over drinks at Kawanhee Inn with the WOW group (Women of Weld), people were telling local stories.  I told this one, just as is written above.  The women immediately howled.  Later in the fall, friends in Albuquerque asked me about the culture of Weld.  What did folks do for entertainment? What do they think about and how do t...
Read more