The Swimming Raccoon

Why did the raccoon swim across Mud Bay? I can’t answer the riddle unless the reason is that the hunting is better on Rocky Point than Marine Drive or simply that the swimming raccoon I saw yesterday has a den on my side of Mud Bay. There’s no photo to accompany this post as it was almost dark and the cross-bay swimmer was out of range of the zoom on my inexpensive digital camera.

Last night just before dusk I noticed a strange object making steady progress across the mouth of Mud Bay. The tide was almost high so this was a serious swim, not some easy stroll across the mudflats. The shape was too long and low for a duck. In the gathering darkness it looked like a tiny U-boat or, more realistically, a moving log. Because otters are rarely seen on Mud Bay, the swimming object had to be a raccoon.

As I watched the raccoon made landfall on the spit of land in front of my neighbor’s property, disappeared momentarily into the pickleweed, and then emerged shaking off water and eyeing the next leg of the journey. Right away it waded back in to complete the short swim across the small lagoon formed by split. Clearly this hunter was on a mission and was taking the most direct route possible.

When it reached the mainland, there was a second round of shaking and a short round of grooming. Like an inflating balloon the bedraggled creature quickly regained its distinct raccoon shape and color: big butt, fluffy striped tail, small forelegs, salt-and-pepper fur, black-masked eyes, sharp snout.

Ready for the evening the raccoon disappeared into the thickets of willow and hawthorn along the water’s edge.

A few minutes later I saw another raccoon—or possibly the swimmer—headed south along the shore in front of my deck on what I call the Raccoon Trail. The Mud Cat is big enough that a standoff with a single raccoon would likely result more in noise and posturing than a serious fight. Still as his owner I have conceded the nights to the Mud Bay raccoons and always try to get him inside before dark.