Purpose

Deep Bay is a northerly projecting finger-like body of water on the New York side of Lake Champlain. It lies a few miles north of where the ferries ply the water of Lake Champlain’s Broad Lake from New York to Vermont and back. They do this 27/7 in rain or shine, and in liquid or frozen water.

Deep Bay’s popularity with recreational boaters convinced New York to place seventy moorings in the bay, and now not having to anchor it is even more popular with boaters. Carrie Rose (really Charlotte) grabbed a mooring on Thursday noon. Deep Bay is protected from every wind direction apart from either side of south. With the wind forecast to blow from the north, we headed there.

Despite the forecast, the wind blew from the south. The bay was choppy with the occasional white cap. These kept a lively motion going until late in the afternoon when the wind calmed down. The clouds dissipated, quiet set in, and the air cooled making for a great nights sleep.

The east and west shores are studded with ancient pines and cedars clinging to walls of layered black slate. Except for the tip of the bay, there is no sign of human habitation. We had a peaceful dinner: French Chenin Blanc, spinach and ricotta raviolis in a mirepoix of carrot, onion and pepper with a dab of pesto for the sauce. I made rye bread a few days before and that, with sweet Vermont butter, capped off the meal.

Dishes washed, I settled into my favorite spot in the pilothouse. But it was so nice outside now that the wind calmed, that Charlotte suggested we sit outside before the mosquitos began to rule the night. Chairs out, we settled in on the back of the boat and that is when I noticed a multitude of seagulls above and within the tree line.

They seemed to be flying haphazardly, almost for fun. Repeatedly they missed each other by inches. They glided up, stopped abruptly, lost altitude, pointed their beaks down, gained air speed and with it lift, and then, did it again. This cannot be for fun. Wild animals are not as flippant as us. There is a purpose to their activities — they are not doing it for arts sake. Survival is their chief concern.

I retrieved binoculars, then a camera, and started to follow them. Damn, they were catching mayflies on the wing. Once I realized this, it was obvious. I could plainly see them spot a lumbering insect, fly up under it intersecting it with their beak, and gulp, the tasty morsel was had.

How many mayflies does it take to satiate a gull, well, I will never know. I finally went to sleep but not before noticing that fish were also popping out of the water to grab the low flying flies.

I awoke to a boat covered in mayflies. Some dead, others dying, many with their wings stuck to the deck by dew. As I went about my morning ritual, clearing the boat of spider webs (and as many spiders as possible) I gently picked the stuck mayfly up by their fragile wings and launch the wiggling insects into the air to fend for themselves.

It is a selfish act. To rid the boat of them alive is easier then to clean them up when dead. Deep Bay, some 1300 miles by boat from Chicago, is an odd place to realize the natural history of seagulls and mayflies. To realize the purpose of the natural world and to give thanks for not being born a mayfly!

Burgers

Just as an introduction, I have been a vegetarian (except in Japan) since 1978. Vegetarianism has gone from a no recognition cultish status to an understanding and accommodating food culture in the 90’s, and now to bacon! The present “foodie” culture has turned its back on veggies. It is hard to find a substance that does not contain bacon. Jellies, jams, ice cream, chocolate, bread, and nearly every entrée at millennial kitchens have some derivative of bacon.

My mother-in-law lives in South Carolina and anything in their cuisine can be bettered by the addition of a little fatback. But do not get me wrong, each to their own, if fatback it be, then I am okay with that. The way the world looks at food has changed dramatically since I changed my ways. Food once thought toxic is now health giving, and food assumed wholesome is now thought to be toxic.

In my last years of practicing medicine, patients were increasingly looking for substances to be allergic too. It made for a frustrating relationship. There were no definitive tests for most of the offending agents, so most of the data (if it could be called that) is anecdotal. I grew up during the Cold War and then it was assumed that any oddity was a communist plot. Now many food stuffs, be they natural or not, are assumed to be part of a plot by multinationals to poison and profit from the populace.

These ramblings are triggered by a veggie burger. Yes, that’s right a veggie burger. How can such a banal foodstuff conjure up thoughts of the Cold War. This particular burger — stay with me here — was gluten, corn, yeast, dairy, egg, soy, and nut free. It proclaimed to only contain healthy fats. I got to thinking, what could it be made of. It also displayed little emblems designating standards it conforms to and social media it subscribes to.

The three inch by quarter inch disc was non-GMO verified, certified vegan and gluten free, and Kosher. It stated it was a Certified “B” corporation (whatever that is) and asked to be followed on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. It had an OR code if more in depth information was needed on any of its ingredients, as if I needed further convincing of the company’s mission to make the world a better place through its veggie burgers.

I am not being cynical. The world has changed for the better since I was a kid. It is not as easy to get away with pure evil. There are too many eyes watching. The world’s governing bodies and many dedicated people respond to crisis after crisis. It is not always perfect or timely but certainly an improvement on the catastrophe the 20th Century was.

Between the resurgence of bacon as a health food and gluten, a lonely protein buried within a kernel of wheat, becoming the bad boy; food and our changing taste drive the world’s culture. The aphorism, you are what you eat, is more appropriate then ever. I never would have guessed when I flippantly gave up on meat in 1978 how profoundly it would affect my worldview.

I find my self out of the mainstream, not that I have ever really been in it. It might be that I am feeling the effects of my age; trying, at least in my mind’s eye, to make one further attempt to stay relevant. Deep down inside I know it is hopeless, I am never going to eat bacon. So, I should just shut up and be thankful that such a veggie burger exists.

June 2015