2020 - Lake of the Woods

2020-09-07 – Kenora, ON

I write vacation journals for two main reasons:

1. To keep a log of events so I can reread in future and relive my adventures.

2. To reiterate events at the time so they have deeper encoding to long term memories. Vacations provide enjoyment on two fronts: exploration and living in the moment; and recalling/retelling those moments.

Vacation for me is quite broad, including any trip out of town, regardless of how far. To be eligible for a vacation though, it needs to last more than one day and have us at least stay overnight somewhere other than home. When Heather (HAG) and Chad invited us to spend the day with them, go for a boat cruise, have some lunch and hang out a bit afterwards, it sounded like a great time, but it’s not a vacation. It’s a simple visit with friends. Why then does this journal exist?

The ludicrous events of the day demand documenting so this either exists as a journal or a non-fiction story. This story will be retold for ages, probably for the rest of our lives (and Heather and Chad’s children’s lives, ensuring today’s legacy to last at least two generations!). These monumental events need to be logged officially to endure the test of time.


2020-08-27 – Winnipeg

Heather and Chad invite us to cruise Lake of the Woods on a boat they just purchased.

2020-09-06 – Winnipeg

The story starts a day earlier, with a Special Weather Warning from Environment Canada, calling for Sunday to include high winds, gusting to 90 km/h, followed by widespread frost and heavy rains.

Shortly afterwards, I get a text from HAG reading,

“So I am watching the weather like a crazy person.... there is weather supposed to start late in the Afternoon.... as long as we are off the water by 3 we should be more than good.” Nothing changes in the forecast as the day progresses, so all plans are go!


2020-09-07 – Winnipeg to Kenora


Nothing new from Environment Canada so we hit the road with plans intact.  We leave the city just after 9 am and rendezvous with HAG, Chad, Brennan, Reid, and Cole at 11:30 am, at about the same time when Environment Canada releases this new Statement for the Kenora area:

Statements

12:08 AM EDT Monday 07 September 2020
Special weather statement in effect for:

·  Kenora - Grassy Narrows - Whitedog

·  Sioux Narrows - Nestor Falls - Morson 

Strong winds tonight.

Wind gusts up to 70 or 80 kilometres per hour will be possible as a cold front tracks across the area.

Winds will weaken gradually after midnight.

Power outages will be possible. 

Nothing changes for us since we’ll be ashore before any of this happens.   For now, we have ideal conditions with light winds, 17C and bright sun with only a few puffs of clouds around.  The clouds dance whispfully, like sky wizards blowing gently cotton batten.  The air feels fresh but not cold and the water looks clear and inviting.  We park at Chad’s shop after a short walk, we arrive at the launch where Chad already has the boat in the water.  In moments, we’re all on board and pulling into Keewatin Bay. 

Entering Rat Portage Bay, Chad provides a narrative of the waters and a tour overview of the area while HAG adds colour commentary.  The area sports thousands of islands, some large and some anthill small, with only tips surfacing above the lake.  The number of islands and isles in the lake depends on the level of the water, with island count being high now because of low water levels.  About 4’ lower than normal, a lot of the shore that normally never sees sun, basks in the warmth of the unfamiliar sun.  Black, smooth and slick, these surfaces make for great photographs but not so good for traction.  Climbing on these rocks requires the utmost in attention as ages of submersion leaves them ooey, gooey slippery.

For the next 40 minutes, we cruise through the heart of Lake of the Woods, admiring the scene and catching up with our friends.  Dozens of islands dot the lake, with some cottages displaying an opulence we’ll never understand or reach.  Chad relates a job he had, catering an event on an island, at what he describes, the most luxurious cottage he’s ever seen.  

While transporting food ashore, he met the host, Mark.  Making some small talk, Chad asked what business Mark is in.  

“I’m in sports.”

Chad, with interest piquing, “Oh!  What sport is that?”  Mark replied,

 

“Hockey.”  Chad continued,

 

“Nice—what do you do?”

 

“I own a hockey team.”

 

During the catering job, Chad transported some fuel on the outside stairs.  He slipped and accidentally spilled some of the fuel, landing near his feet before flowing through the open steps to the deck beneath.  Chad looked down in horror as embers grew menacingly red.  He rushed down to the shore to fill his shallow pan with water and ran back to throw it on the emerging flames.  He quickly stomped out the embers, hoping no guests would notice he set the place on fire!  Imagine the infamy if Chad would have burnt down Mark Chipman’s cottage!

Back to our outing, we start looking for an island to settle on, being sufficiently away from civilisation.  Many of the islands stand unoccupied, and being part of Reserve Territory, unoccupied they will remain.  Randomly searching for an island to set down upon, HAG spots a picnic table atop a plateau, which will make for a great lunch stop. 

Most people have picnicked, venturing from site to site, hoping to find something unoccupied.  Some look for a firepit while others just want a table or open space.  For a landlubber, this searching for a picnic site by boat is a marvellous treat.  On the one hand, I can lie back all day, relax to the hum of the motor and the spray of the mist, noticing nothing but the beauty of the passing vistas.  On the other hand, I’m very hungry and happy we’ll dock soon.   

Chad steers into a cove and jumps out, pulling the boat to shore.  Everyone jumps aground as Chad passes supplies to bring to the site.  Quite sheltered on the lee side of the island, the water looks deceptively still and you don’t feel more than a breath of wind.  The boat sits safely on shore with only the stern sitting in shallow water.  Andrea wonders if the boat will be okay sitting there and Chad replies that it’ll be safely tied up.  HAG says that it’s very rudimentary—with the ship setting ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle.  She further explains that in Ontario, you cannot drive a boat without a licence.  HAG has no boating licence so she may not drive the boat but fear not, Chad has extensive boating experience—he's a mighty sailing man, and he holds the rank of First Mate, so we’re in good hands.  Did we know another famous First Mate?  Gorgon? or Gilgamesh? or Gillian? or something like that?  

With everything somewhat on schedule, we start the lunch segment of our visit.  If we can maintain the schedule and return to land at 3 pm, this would be a three-hour tour.  We unload and haul everything up to the picnic table and prebuilt fire pit.  Efficient beyond description, by the time I reach the site, Chad has all of the ingredients mise-en-place and Reid has the fire going already.   

With everything unpacked on site or on the table, Andrea sits down and with a PLOP, abruptly discovers that the table pivots like a teetertotter. 

If you look carefully at the side of the photo, you see the picnic table’s top slanted quite severely, and the base tilted.  Whichever side of the table has more weight, the table pivots towards that side.  While Andrea and Brennan sit at the table by themselves, all’s well.  When one of the kids sits on the opposite side, all’s well.  However, with Reid already on the bench, as soon as HAG sits down, Andrea’s radler bounces up and she ends up wearing the contents.   

After roaming the island and taking some photos, I come to the table to sit beside Andrea.  No one has the foresight to realise what will happen.  Again, the table pivots and this time, Andrea wears Reid’s plate of smokie, fries and fish as the table top flips his plate into the air.  We set everything back onto Reid’s plate—everything’s still good as the food bounces nicely off Andrea’s jacket and lands back onto his plate.  If the table flip isn’t enough, the wind takes a turn and again, Andrea wears Reid’s second helping, with another chunk of fish slapping her in the chest.

Chad makes the absolute best fried fish and chips, and if you’ve ever had the privilege of being invited to one of his shore lunches, you know exactly what I’m talking about. 

With enough food to feed an army, Chad puts the cooking utensils down and joins us for lunch.  Of course, the balance of the table shifts again and this time, my beer goes all over Andrea’s lap.  As Andrea jumps up, Chad’s beer topples over as well and she gets to wear that one too!  Fortunately, Chad and I are both drinking the same IPA—it’d be a fashion faux pas if Andrea wears both the sienna brown of an ale and the clashing mustard yellow of a lager!  Now we just need Heather, Brennan and Cole to each throw some food at Andrea and she’ll be wearing something from each of us! 

Nothing feels better than a walk after a hearty meal (complete with a bout of overeating because everything tastes so good!).  It's a small isle so it doesn't take long to circumnavigate.  With camera in hand, I balance on the slippery shore rocks to grab some shots.  Noticing the ominous clouds starting to roll around, I head to the weather-side shore to catch the action on the way. 

Shortly after I return to the campsite, Chad goes for a stroll with Reid and Cole to the leeside of the island.  He disappears behind the trees and right after, we hear a loud, 

SONOFABITCH! 

We head over to see what’s up and Chad calmly but with urgency says "the boat’s gone"—it’s floating away!  Andrea turns back to where we shored the boat because she thinks that he’s joking.  Sadly, he’s not.  As you can see from the photo, it’s already blown a good distance from shore.  

As we evaluate the options, HAG and Andrea look in horror as Chad’s already in the water and swimming towards the boat. 

As you can see, Chad’s well into the water by the time we notice.  He seems to make ground but at the same time, the wind pushes the boat away at a torrid pace.  We’re all worried that if he needs to come back, how he would make out swimming into the ferocious wind.   

With everyone watching for Chad and the boat, I notice some black smoke and realise that we never put the firepit out.  As I set off towards the campsite, Reid glimpses the smoke as well and follows.  The fire continues to burn but instead of being confined to the pit, the wind blew the flames and into the trees.   

The forest is on fire.   

I quickly yell back at our people that “I need some help here,” as I grab the fish bowl and run to the shore to fetch water.   The first couple of trips proved futile as it takes so long to fine a place along the shore to be able to dip the dish.  Eventually, I find a recess that's not covered in slime where I can perch safely without fear of falling into the drink.  From that perch, I scoop water back and forth no fewer than 30 times, running up and down the cliff each time.

Frozen in concern for Chad, Andrea remains on the shore looking out as he gets farther and farther away from our isle.  HAG evaluates her situation: 

1. Her Husband could be in mortal danger swimming into a windstorm. 
2. The forest will soon burn around her. 
3. She needs to pee. 

Triaging as best as she can, pee comes first, then the forest.  She runs to the campsite and grabs the little beverage cooler.  A cooler makes a good container, but not such a good bailing vessel since it’s hollow and very difficult to submerge and fill.  Reid follows quickly and uses his water bottle to dump onto the flames.

This is a tactical error on HAG’s part.  In her triage, she should have realised that peeing is the least important factor in the developments around us.  Her husband’s welfare should be first, but since there was nothing she could do about his pursuit of the boat, her second priority should turn to the island.  Rather than take the time to pee, she should have jumped right into the role of firefighter.  If she needs, she could have simply pissed her pants.  In fact, standing around trees aflame, it never hurts to wear wet clothing.

To recap, we have winds at 70 km/h blowing the fire from pit to grass, from grass to tree.  The ground’s burning and spreading quickly and the only thing between all life on this island and a fiery inferno is the pitiful volunteer fire department consisting of one person with a stainless-steel cooking bowl, one person with a beverage cooler, and a seven-year old with his drink bottle.  

I thought for sure the entire island would torch.  Each of my sad dumps of water douses about one square foot of land and the fire’s probably growing by one square metre per second.  After about 20 of my runs, we managed to subdue most of the higher flames.  Heading back to shore, I see Reid run into the heart of the fire!  Ankle-deep in the flames, he thumps with the ferocity of kangaroo, rapidly stomping out the flames.  Good thing mom made him wear runners today!  His brave effort quickly snuffed out the remainder of the active flames and all that's left is to douse the embers and make sure it doesn't come back to life.

Despite our motley crew with ridiculous equipment, we amazingly controlled the fire with minimal damage to the forest.  To make sure the fire doesn’t come to life again, Reid pees on the ashes.

He's just off to the right of this yelling at us, "DON'T LOOK!"  He didn't say anything about taking photos though!  

This photo does no justice to the size of the blaze that emerged.  I am still stunned at how little is damaged when the situation looked so dire.  After the situation is restored, Andrea asks me if I took a photo of the fire while it raged.

I WAS BUSY SAVING THE FOREST AND THE TREES—I DIDN’T DROP EVERYTHING TO TAKE A PHOTO! which explains why I only have this sad shot of the extraordinary event.  I did freeze for a moment:  as the fire gained momentum, I stared at the burning bush, flicking beside the granite surface of a boulder.  I wondered if at any time, a finger of flame would etch directives into the rock, peel them off and ask me to deliver them to the world.  

Back at the other debacle, happily, Chad knows when to “abandon ship,” turn around, and come back.  After Chad returns to dry ground, he and HAG contemplate whom to call to rescue us.  Meanwhile, we look out for boats we can flag down.  Pondering the situation:  as the weather worsens, we will likely see less boat traffic as people hunker away to safety.  Would we be stranded out here to last the storm?!  That would be the shits!  We initially wanted to be back on land at 3 pm and here we are at 3:30 and we’re stranded with no means of returning.  Right on time, the dark clouds grin menacingly, as they soar through the skies.  Things look bleaker by the minute.

After a while, we see a boat off in the distance near the next island.  With each of us standing at a different outcropping, we wave frantically at the distant occupants.  It takes a while but they eventually catch sight of us and come to our rescue.  At first, they thought we were waving to be friendly.  Then when they saw a bunch of us, they thought we were a bunch of kids playing around.  Fortunately, they didn't leave thinking that we were just hacking around.

If they didn't come, we would have been in deep shit, standing around with no way off the rock, ferocious wind storm coming, and island burning to the ground around us.  I bet we’d be easy to find if those flames reach 30 metres high (and I emerge from them carrying stone tablets).  

Our rescuers bring Chad out to our boat; meanwhile the rest of us start packing to bring everything to the leeside shore.  Chad arrives with the boat and we transfer everything aboard.  Somehow in the transfer process, Chad loses his money and it floats around us.  HAG says that it will migrate on its own to Reid’s hand like a light sabre to Yoda but sadly, it continues to float away.  I guess he's not Anakin Skywalker.  We make several circles trying to retrieve it; we manage to recover some but the rest becomes an offering to Poseidon.             

As Poseidon’s wrath grows, the sky continues to darken and the winds scrape across the waters.  Chad says that in over 40 years of mariner life, he has never seen whitecaps at this part of the lake.  It’s going to be a rough ride.

We head towards the city cautiously and slowly, but that’s not enough to halt the waves from completely drenching some of us.

As a bonus, I have a strap from the cover continuously whack me in the head as we bounce over the waves.  I try to tie it down, but each time I turn to look at it, a fresh wave pelts me in the mouth.  I hold it for a while but with my hand held up, the water starts oozing down inside my sleeve.   My jacket isn’t waterproof but it’s a good grade water resistant.  Even though the outside drips, the inside only feels only slightly damp.  If I let water continue to flow inside my sleeve, I’ll get very cold, very quickly.  Eventually, I just leave the strap and let it continue to slap me on the head.  

It takes a while but we’re through the Devil’s Gap and along the Kenora skyline, mostly sheltered and back to smooth sailing.  Thus ends another never-dull adventure with the Gropps!  Thanks again to Chad and Heather for memories and stories that will last a lifetime—can’t wait to see what you dish up the next time!