What will they find? That's a source of much good humored Harborite discussion as our Year 2000 Time Capsule committee, led by Frank Carlton, ponders and frets.

As I emptied my Cheerios box this morning, out popped the premium, a US Mint Director Certified First Minted Year 2000 Penny, one of "just" ten million minted. Wow, I thought, here's sometime for the time capsule, not as much for the date, as for the fact that it, a penny, will certainly be long gone by year 2100. Few of those gathered about the capsule will believe we still had coin and paper currency as late as year 2000. I have other such "long disappeared" candidates - a vehicle steering wheel (replaced by a joystick); my computer keyboard (voice or eyeball activated); an election ballot; a snow scoop; a denture; my nitro pills; the stock exchange; a cord phone. My list is endless.

None of these, of course, are appropriate items for an Eagle Harbor time capsule. Most will find their way into other collections of junk from the last Millennium, nor do they speak of the uniqueness of our place and people. Therein lies the dilemma of our time capsule committee. What should we place in our little Eagle Harbor box that says, "This is who we are, what we experience, what we believe, what we enjoy, what we ponder, what we hold to be true and important."

"Things" might help tell this story. A pasty plate, a township ballot, the latest "hot" lake trout lure, a Harbor Inn menu, a Popeye Run T-shirt, a Historical Society brochure, a "bug suit", a few toy size replicas of our toys (4 wheeler, PWC, snowmobile, etc), a "Save Bete Grise Beach" bumper sticker, perhaps even a "snow stick". There are lots of possibilities in the "things" category.

For sure some photos. Old Harbor photos fascinate us - ours would certainly cause a few chuckles in 2100. Probably black and white for best preservation. A beach fire gathering, the pumpkins on the store steps, July 4th paraders, the new fire truck, a township meeting, a Saint Peter's Church gathering, our toys in action, Rich's "two headed deer' mount, the breakfast gang at the Shoreline, morning walkers, a "typical" Harbor car (four wheel drive pickup with plow), and, of course, some scenes about town.

These "things" and photose, however, are merely clues to our lives. They speak of us, not for us. For that we must write. Oral histories, web sites, VCRs, etc. would be cool, but who can foresee what leading edge communication technologies of our time will survive. Probably none. The written word on paper, while perhaps considered quaint in another 100 years, will most likely still stimulate the mind. I'm told that properly treated, our documents will still be legible after a hundred years of burial. But would they be interesting, and as importantly, speak of the truths and hopes our "things" and photos can only hint at?

They might. It's certainly worth considering. A possible format would be for each who wish to participate to write a short letter to "Year 2100 Eagle Harbor Neighbor", sharing who we are, how we feel about our time at the Harbor, and conveying our hopes for the future of this place and its people. Perhaps making a copy to pass along to our own family and their descendents. A bit melodramatic you think! Perhaps, but our "time capsule" of "things" and fading photos will probably need some "interpretation" to truly speak of our time and people, and who better than us to do so. We, nor anyone who knew us, are not likely to be among the capsule unearthers. Our letters could be our proxies.

Well, the Capsule Committee wisely did not seek my advice, so this little Cheerios premium prompted mind work is probably just for fun - itself a candidate for things of our time best and easily forgotten. If, however, your day, perhaps like mine also luckily started with another of the "just" ten million Year 2000 First Mint pennies, or something similiar, has caused you to think about Eagle Harbor time capsule content, perhaps you should send a note to Frank and his committee. I'll send this.

My guess, certainly my hope, is that the skipper, kids and boat are safely holed up in some indentation or island along the rocky north shore nursing some gear or electrical failure and thus unable to respond to the hours of radio and surface search that would normally precede the resort to a "pan-pan". It is, however, early May, not a good time to be out on the lake in such a small vessel with shorthanded crew. The north shore is not very forgiving and offers few places of refuge. The winds have been moderate overnight, but were fairly strong yesterday. There was a lot of fog.

I ponder this event as I prepare for my late May through June cruise from Peregrine's winter roost in Mackinaw City to her homeport, Eagle Harbor. I have not yet signed on crew (few folks have this much time to bob around on a boat), but fleeting thoughts about single-handed sailing are pushed aside as I think of the fate of my Canadian friend. I'm not quite as self-sufficient afloat now as I was a few years ago (or thought I was), and as my Superior cruising log grows larger, my respect for the lake increases. It is no place for the unprepared or the unwary. My assets: a sound boat, years of experience, state-of-the art navigation gear, and the time freedom to be able to hole up for days if need be; are of little consequence to a lake whose whims and rocky shores and shoals have claimed thousands of boats and countless sailors over the past century and one-half.

Many of these lost boats and sailors were on the lake at times and in conditions that would give pause to any sailor. Vessels, both sail and steam, ill constructed and ill-prepared for the rigors of the big lake would test the fierce storms of early and late winter to serve the mines above primitive ports like Eagle Harbor. In many years, the big bell at the harbor wharf would announce the arrival of the much-anticipated first unbound boat before the end of March. The lake sailor's safety depended on his skill at detecting changing weather by visual clues, finding his way through the lake's dense fog by listening for the sounds of shore and waves breaking over reefs, and his skill in navigating with erratic compasses, inaccurate charts, and coastal pilot books full of sketchy channel and harbor information collected and handed down by earlier seafarers. No VHF radio, radar, chart plotters, GPS, satellite weather forecasts, cellular phones, and electronic wind, depth and log instruments for these sailors. What they lacked in boats and gear they more than made up for with perseverance, skill and savvy; but they, like the sailors of this day, paid a heavy price for even momentary lapses in judgement, and for any lack of respect for the vigor and uncertainty of the Sweetwater Sea.

A Harbor Web reader recently sent me this thoughtful message about my upcoming sail. I'll tack it on Peregrine's bulkhead.