Late afternoon Saturday, Feb. 26, I was running along the shoreline of Myrtle Edwards Park and Elliott Bay Park, taking in the last rays of a beautiful sunset over the Olympics. Up ahead I saw a couple clambering down the rocks to the edge of the water. I wondered what they were up to and thought it was certainly not a good idea to go swimming this time of day. Sure enough, as I drew nearer, the woman started removing her shoes.
I ran past, and as I looked back, I got a complete view of the scene and understood. A duck was frantically trying to free itself from something, and this woman had opted to give it a hand. I stopped dead in my tracks and walked over to them, my mind already set on helping out.
The man quickly asked if I had a pocketknife. I didn't. The woman, already in the water up to her shins, explained that the bird was caught in fishing wire. A little farther out, the whole flock of 20 or so ducks seemed to be hanging around with interest, unable to help the one left behind.
I took off my runners and socks, rolled up my pants and confirmed my initial thought: the water was freezing cold. In a few minutes, over slippery rocks and now waist-deep in water, the woman and I managed to get to the duck, grab it gently with wings folded and look over the situation.
It was indeed fishing wire, and the poor thing had it wrapped all around one wing and its neck. As I held the bird, the woman unrolled all the twists and turns of the wire, and then I let go. The duck quickly swam away toward its anxious group, obviously more scared than grateful. We got out of the water, taking all of the wire out of there, quite pleased that we were able to intervene and rescue this creature, watching it rejoin its friends.
The couple is from Bainbridge Island, I learned, just out enjoying a late-afternoon stroll, but further introductions were cut short as I started shivering from the drenched clothes and the night air. I feel sorry now that we didn't introduce ourselves or take down one another's coordinates. I quickly said goodbye and congratulations and resumed my running back home.
There, before stepping into a hot shower, I realized I had several cuts in my right foot, probably from some sharp rock in the water. My feet had been so numb from the cold water that I had not felt anything. Perhaps I acted foolishly, risking personal safety for a duck, but the sheer joy of freeing this bird, and teaming up with perfect strangers to achieve it, seemed to make it all worthwhile.
The cuts have healed already, but the memory of this deed lingers on.
What's the point of this story then? That because of a strand of fishing wire that someone casually discarded or left behind, a bird's life might have ended, and two people risked personal safety to undo the damage and make things right. A simple strand of fishing wire, entangled in rocks and water....
And so I would like to pass on a word to all anglers who go out to Elliott Bay Park to enjoy their sport: Do not dismiss your responsibility toward the environment and the wildlife that welcome you there. Please take back with you all that you bring. And if your line does get caught, as often happens, please make every effort to recover any hooks and wires. Leave the shoreline a safe place for all others to enjoy, including ducks and humans.
Thank you.[[In-content Ad]]
