Otterwoman: A Full Moon Tale

If you ever find yourself on a boat in the Great Lake Huron and you find your way between the tip of the Bruce Peninsula and the magical island called Manitoulin, you will find yourself in water that is now called Georgian Bay.  It has not always been called that, but that is another story.  If you keep sailing to the southeast and find your way around Giant’s Tomb Island, then between Penetanguishene Peninsula and Beausoleil Island through what they now call “The Gap” you will enter the waters of Severn Sound.  If you keep travelling to the most southeastern part of the Sound you will find yourself in Sturgeon Bay. 

And there is you look very carefully and are in the right place at the right time, you could see otters swimming and playing in the waters near the shore.  You might get a glimpse of one catching a fish, or a frog or playing with its young.

Along the shoreline of Sturgeon Bay there is a trail.  It used to be a railroad track that carried passengers from the city to the north and back again, but that was a long time ago.  Now the tracks are gone and the trail is only used for walking or riding a bike.

Well it happened, one summer night, just as the full moon was rising in the east, that a man decided to take a walk along the trail.  He was making himself walk even though his joints hurt and he was worried about what the future might hold.  He could see the last oranges of the sunset through the trees that lined the shore.  After some walking he came to an opening in the trees and he stood on the trail looking out over the lake.  The stars were coming out and over the lake hung constellation of the Big Bear, almost touching the water, as if she was reaching down from the sky to get a drink of lake water.  Her stars were reflected in the glassy still water and the sight took his breath away.

Behind him the full moon was rising and the glow spread to the lake.  Suddenly he saw a small head moving through the water and the thick rounded tail of an otter.  He watched the otter dive and resurface, as the starlight made its wet fur twinkle.  Mesmerized he followed the otter’s progress.  And then it seemed as though the otter’s head got larger and part of it gleamed white in the moonlight.  The otter swam towards him now and he could see long strands flowing out behind the head.  Rubbing his eyes, he saw to his amazement that there was a woman’s head where the otter’s had been. 

As she got closer to the shore, she rose out of the water, long brown hair streaming over her body like the water plants that lived in the lake.  Suddenly she saw the man.  Her black eyes twinkled in the moonlight and her skin shone.  The man was frozen to the spot but the woman smiled, turned and dove under the waves.

The man searched the surface of the water with his eyes, looking for a sight of this magical creature, but to no avail.  He paced back and forth along the shore and climbed down to the water’s edge, straining for a glimpse of her.  The moon rose higher in the sky and the stars got brighter but even with all this heavenly light, there was no sign of the woman or the otter.

Just as he was about to give up and go home, she surfaced.  She was swimming on her back holding something to her chest with both hands.  The woman was heading straight for where the man was standing, knee deep in the water by this time.  He didn’t even notice that he was wet, so concentrated was he on her progress. He didn’t notice his joints and was completely absorbed in that very moment with no thought of the future.  When she got very close to him she flipped over and stood up.  Walking towards him she held her hands out and he could see that she was holding a beautiful big rainbow trout.  It was luminous in the moonlight and it’s colours seemed to vibrate.

The man put out his hands and she gave him the fish.  Then she burst into laughter, turned and dove into the water again.  He watched the ripple on the surface until far out in the bay, he saw an otter’s head surface.  He heard a far away laugh and then it was gone.

The man carried the beautiful trout home.  It seemed to glow and light up the path and it lit up his kitchen before he could turn on a light.  The man had always loved underwater creatures and found fish fascinating and beautiful.  But this was the most beautiful fish he had ever seen.  He sat up well into the night painting a likeness of the fish on a piece of wood, trying to capture it’s light, it’s beauty.

When the sun came up, he was finally satisfied with his painting and he knew it was time to honour the trout.  He lit a fire in the yard and filleted the fish.  The skin and entrails, he left in the woods for the fox that visited there.  The bones went into the garden to share their minerals with the plants that grew there.  And then he called all his neighbours to come to his yard for breakfast.  He fried the fish over the fire and his neighbours brought raspberries from their canes and plums from their trees.  They brought bread they had just baked and yogurt from the tops of their fridges.  He told them the story of the otter and the woman and the fish and they savoured the gift of the trout in their mouths and marvelled at its taste.  They told stories of gifts that had come their way just when they were needed.  The fish and the friendship and the magic of the lake fed and sustained them for days to come and the story became one that was told on warm summer nights when the moon was full.