What Lives in a Fjord-Like Glacial Lake? I Snorkeled One of New England's Deepest Lakes to Find Out

What is up everyone? It is an absolute beautiful day in October in Vermont. I'm in Westmoor at Lake Willoughby. This is the notorious Lake Willoughby. Super clear. Everyone talks about it. I got this recommended to me multiple times on YouTube. All right we are suited up ready to go. I'm gonna get the fins on, jump in the water, see what we can see. Lake Willoughby, located in Vermont's northeast kingdom, is the deepest lake in the Green Mountain State, reaching depths up to 328 feet or 100 meters. In the shallow water, small fish darted through the sunlight, likely shiner species and bloodnose minnows, gathering together in loose shimmering schools. Among the rocks and vegetation, I spotted several aquatic macroinvertebrates. Creatures like mayflies, stoneflies, and caddisflies are excellent indicators of clean water. Many of these insects breathe dissolved oxygen directly from the water through delicate gills or thin body surfaces. Their presence here is a sign that Lake Willoughby remains remarkably healthy. Along the bottom, I came across a crayfish that appeared to have recently molted. To recover the minerals needed to harden their new armor, crayfish often consume their discarded shell in an efficient form of internal recycling. Continuing along the shoreline, I encountered something unexpected. Stacked along the lake bed were several old wooden planks. Judging by the debris and algae buildup, they appear to have been there for quite some time. Their origin remains a mystery, perhaps remnants of an old dock or structure that once stood along the shore. Whatever their story, these weathered boards now provide excellent habitat. Fish congregated among the crevices of the old wood, using it as shelter. Rock bass hovered nearby while white suckers cruised slowly along the bottom. In fact, this is the largest group of white suckers I've ever seen underneath the water. White suckers have a sub-terminal mouth positioned beneath their snout. As their name suggests, they feed by vacuuming food from the lake bed, sucking up small invertebrates and organic matter from the sediment. They're far more cautious of my presence than the rock bass, which seemed almost curious. Diving down, I hovered eye to eye with many of the rock bass. Moments like this are what make snorkeling so special. Entering their world, sharing the same space, even if only for a brief moment. Rock bass are native to Vermont and are easily recognized by their deep oval-shaped bodies and large red eyes. Like other members of the sunfish family, they have a two-part dorsal fin, a spiny front section, and a softer rear portion. Most individuals grow at around 6 inches or 15 centimeters long, though some can reach up to 12 inches or 30 centimeters in length and live more than a decade. Despite it being early fall, the water here remains cold. Lake Willoughby is known for its deep cold water environment and the best guess is that the temperature during this dive was somewhere around 55 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit or 12.7 to 15.5 degrees Celsius. Of course, Lake Willoughby also has its share of legends. Local folklore speaks of a mysterious lake monster known as Willie, with sightings reported as far back as the 1800s. Although I didn't encounter Willie during this dive, the abundance of rock bass and white suckers suggest there would be plenty of food to sustain such a creature. so As I made my way back toward the south beach, I once again passed through schools of small fish, likely buntnose minnows and shiners. Watching them glide through the water is mesmerizing. so One of the most encouraging observations during this dive was how little trash I encountered. Aside from a few cans I removed from the plank pile, the lake remains incredibly clean. In a place as pristine as this, even small pieces of litter feel out of place. Just before reaching shore, one final discovery appeared beneath the surface. A sunken rowboat rested quietly near the south shore, slowly becoming part of the lake itself. How long it's been here is anyone's guess, but like the old wooden planks, it adds another quiet mystery to the waters of Vermont's deepest lake. Carved by glaciers more than 12,000 years ago, this long narrow lake resembles a fjord, with steep cliffs rising dramatically from the water's edge. In 1967, Lake Willoughby was designated a National Natural Landmark, recognized for its striking landscape and pristine waters. The lake covers nearly 1,700 acres or 687 hectares and is framed by two towering mountains, Mount Pigsaw to the east and Mount Hoar to the west. Above the waterline, towering cliffs rise from the lake's edge. These dramatic rock faces are home to nesting peregrine falcons, one of North America's fastest birds and a conservation success story after their populations once declined sharply. Alright, that is going to be the end of the day. Ended up having a really cool snorkel, so I'm gonna have to come back here one of these days and check out the other shoreline. I kind of just followed along the shoreline along the road for a while. Ended up coming on a bunch of boards, old boards, and this was great structure for a bunch of rock bass and also a bunch of white suckers, which was like a great surprise. I haven't seen a ton of white suckers on this channel, so just getting some good footage of that was just really, really cool. I just want to say thank you so much for watching. Thank you so much for all of your support. Each time you tune into this channel and watch these videos, it really supports me and allows me to make these drives out to these different remote places. So hopefully one day I could travel more, see new places, and snorkel just about everywhere throughout the world. That would be the absolute dream. So thank you so much again. I really appreciate it, and we will see you next time Underneath the Water.