This past summer I witnessed a very unusual occurrence on China Lake.

In mid-May, a baby loon was hatched and seen swimming along with its parents in the north end of the lake.  Seeing a baby loon at any time is a treat, but this “loonlet” and its parents were defying the odds.

Why? Well, first consider the nesting habits of the common loon.

Soon after “ice out” in many northern lakes, loon pairs search for a nesting site that is secluded, away from boat activity and human disturbance, and protected from wave action and predators. Oftentimes they will select an island to build their nest on. Since loons cannot walk on land, they build their nests right on the waters’ edge. For loons to build their nest in a populated area — and for the chick to survive — is amazing.

Yet, here they were.

The north end of China Lake is its busiest and most developed area, with a waterfront restaurant and a convenience store. Causeway Road, crossing the water’s edge, is the access road for one of the primary boat ramps on the lake. The area is very busy with boat launchings, bass tournaments, and people drawn to the lake’s dining, swimming, and fishing.

Yet somehow our loon family had built a nest on the waters’ edge, incubated the egg for about 30 days without being disturbed, and hatched the chick into the commotion of the north end of China Lake. I talked to several lakefront owners in that area, and no one had seen the loon nest during the incubation period. It’s possible that the nest could have been hidden in the marsh that hugs the nearby inlet stream.

I continued to observe the baby loon throughout the summer as the lake buzzed with activity. The loon family happily swam along, seemingly oblivious to the hustle and bustle, the buzz of jet skis, the wakes of passing power boats.

One day I followed the baby loon and its parents along the shoreline. Mom and chick went under docks and around boats as they carried on their way. Every so often, one of the parents would surface with a small fish and feed it to the baby.

I became particularly worried during the Fourth of July fireworks, which are launched from shore on the west side of the lake. Boaters crowded into the area to watch the fireworks display, and I knew no one would be able to see a baby loon in the dark. One of the leading causes of loon-chick deaths is boat strikes, but the loon family survived.

Bass tournaments begin at the north boat landing, and I cringed every time as I watched bass boats take off, speeding down the lake to claim their fishing spots. But the loons paddled on.

One neighbor told me they watched as an eagle tried to make the baby loon its lunch. Fortunately, by this time the baby was able to dive, and avoided the diving eagle. Despite my fears, every time I went out to see if the baby had survived, there it was — diving, flapping its wings, and swimming with its mother.

The last time I definitely saw the young loon was Sept. 15. Since then, the “baby” has become almost full grown and its plumage is very similar to the fall plumage of the adults. The loon has also become a lot more independent, and often swims alone. I have recently been reassured by local lakefront owners that the “Miracle Loon” has survived the north-end gauntlet.

Now, having seen the challenges this young loon faced, I have new appreciation for every loon I see. This beautiful bird, whose eerie calls and graceful silhouette are such a distinctive part of summer on our Maine lakes, seems more special than ever.

But our loon has one more hurdle to overcome.

Maine loons migrate to the coast to avoid being caught in the ice when the lake freezes over. It takes some practice and a long runway down the lake into the wind, but if our miracle loon managed to survive every obstacle to this point, flying off to the coast for the winter should be a piece of cake!