“Two loons! Over there!” one of the participants on the Loon Pontoon Tour on Lake Owen pointed behind our boat. Our volunteer driver swung around and puttered toward the two birds slowly, so as not to disturb them.
The loons faced each other, dipped their bills in the water, swam so they were head-to-tail in a circle of two, then dove in opposite directions. Surfacing after just a moment, they started again. After repeating this sequence several times, they appeared to tire. For a moment they drifted in parallel. Then one loon rose up from the water, flapped their wings, shook their head, and settled back down. Almost like a contagious yawn, the second loon followed suit. It seemed for a second like the loons might relax, but back in the water, they started from the beginning with head-to-tail swimming, beak dips, and dives.
When loons are establishing a pair bond or social connection, I explained to the group, they swim in parallel with their beaks angled away. Because sharp beaks are their most formidable weapon, where loons point them is significant.
I sent videos of the interactions to Jay Mager, the loon researcher I’d studied with on Lake Jocassee, South Carolina, last March, and he explained that this type of circling creates anxiety because the loons are frequently in each other’s blind spots and fear a surprise lunging attack. Fighting among loons frequently results in injury or death.
On the other hand, Jay has also witnessed interactions like this, especially in winter, de-escalating into side-by-side swimming and then social interaction and even cooperative fishing.
Throughout the summer, we’d observed a pair of loons in this northwest bay of Lake Owen. In past years, they’d had good luck producing chicks. Although we suspected that they had a nest this year, we never saw young ones on the water. Could these loons be the territorial pair? The aggressive behavior seemed to indicate that no, this was more likely one of the bay’s “owners” and an intruder.
We’d only been watching for a few minutes when suddenly one of the loons (the intruder?) took off running and flapping down the bay toward the main lake. Huge, webbed feet splashed at the surface. Loons have the heaviest body for the smallest wings of any bird who can still fly. Just like a jet airplane, they require a long runway to gain the speed and lift necessary for takeoff. Once airborne, they are strong fliers who must keep up their speed to stay aloft.
As soon as the first loon rose above the water, the remaining loon (the resident?), who had been floating near the pontoon, followed in a flurry of flapping wings and feet.
What had just happened? The group looked around at each other in amazement, feeling lucky to have witnessed this fascinating bit of loon behavior. Jay Mager summarized our feelings when he wrote to me: “Situations like what you saw the other day epitomize why I enjoy watching loons so much—I sometimes wish they could tell me a little bit more about what they're doing and thinking, but that might make it less 'magical' in a way.”
As the pontoon bobbed in the light breeze, I tried to use what we’d seen to help the group understand more about ecology of loons. One thing we’d noticed was that both loons showed a bit of white on their faces, near the base of the beaks. This is the beginning of their fall molt. They’ll completely replace their feathers once they migrate south to the ocean or a big lake.
Despite a pair of loons still caring for two fuzzy chicks in another part of the lake, the white feathers are a reminder that loons are preparing for winter. Loons will not only change their color to a gray brown, they will also shift their behavior from aggressively territorial against anyone except their mate, to social and cooperative. Loons may join up in rafts of 3, 10, or even 20 or more birds as they stage for migration. Changes in hormones probably help with this shift, as well as the benefits of sharing information, fishing together, and not wasting time fighting all year. That said, loons with established territories may still be warding off intruders and making sure that they’ll have a home to return to next spring.
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| Grow faster, fluffy chicks! Photo by Emily Stone. |
We’d just started to motor forward again when the faint sound of wing beats echoed across the water. The distinctive, torpedo-shaped, hump-backed silhouette of a loon in flight appeared against the sky for just a second before dropping below tree line and skimming smoothly across the surface of the water. Although this loon returned quickly today, very soon they will be making a much longer flight. We’ll miss their presence here when our lakes turn to ice, but I’ll be looking forward to observing more of their fascinating behavior on our weekly Loon Pontoon Tours when they return in the spring.
Watch the video of their behavior here: https://youtu.be/9FL9Qng2d0s
Emily’s award-winning second book, Natural Connections: Dreaming of an Elfin Skimmer, is available to purchase at www.cablemuseum.org/books and at your local independent bookstore, too. Natural Connections 3 will be published in November 2025!
For more than 50 years, the Cable Natural History Museum has served to connect you to the Northwoods. Our Fall Calendar is open for registration! Visit our new exhibit, “Becoming the Northwoods: Akiing (A Special Place). Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and cablemuseum.org to see what we are up to.
