Tuesday 7/17: Yoctangee 0700 hours
I am sitting in a rocker on the screened-in porch of a small sleeping cabin on Yoctangee Island about twenty minutes by boat from Pointe au Baril, Ontario, in the northern part of Georgian Bay. The sun is rising over nearby Burnt Island; the water is calm. A squirrel cusses at me from a tree across the way on yet another island.
I watch a beaver swim from island to island. A single shell rows by out in the channel.
The morning is glorious. I can hear birds, the occasional loon, the Hydropower box, and the squirrel.
Water laps gently at the rocks below me.
There are no cars, trucks, buses, or planes. I have heard only one distant motorboat thus far this morning.
Last night, in the dark of midnight, with all the stars, there was absolute silence.
Harry Symons, a businessman and writer from Toronto, owned Yoctangee in the early to mid part of the 20th century. This is where he wrote his book Ojibway Melody. He sold the island to B’s grandparents in 1950. There is one large main cabin and three sleeping cabins. One of the sleeping cabins was joined to the main cabin this past spring, so now there is an even bigger main cabin and only two sleeping cabins. I am in the sleeping cabin which overlooks the water on the east side of the island, in the screened-in porch, sitting on a red and wicker rocking chair. Sipping coffee. And watching the sun come up.
The remaining sleeping cabin is on the far side of the island, a five minute walk through the woods on a well-worn path. B is sleeping over there, with Sadie, his golden retriever.
There is electricity (thanks to Hydropower!) and running water (from the lake). We had to bring our own drinking water, though, as drinking the lake water might result in giardiasis. There is a bathroom in the main cabin with indoor plumbing, and an outdoor shower.
No phone, no TV, no computers, no Internet. No radio even.
There are two boats – a motor launch and a smaller motor boat, as well as a pedal boat, a canoe, and a slew of kayaks.
This is where I will be spending the next five days with B and another mutual friend S. And B’s dog Sadie.
I think I have gone to Heaven.
I watch a beaver swim from island to island. A single shell rows by out in the channel.
The morning is glorious. I can hear birds, the occasional loon, the Hydropower box, and the squirrel.
Water laps gently at the rocks below me.
There are no cars, trucks, buses, or planes. I have heard only one distant motorboat thus far this morning.
Last night, in the dark of midnight, with all the stars, there was absolute silence.
Harry Symons, a businessman and writer from Toronto, owned Yoctangee in the early to mid part of the 20th century. This is where he wrote his book Ojibway Melody. He sold the island to B’s grandparents in 1950. There is one large main cabin and three sleeping cabins. One of the sleeping cabins was joined to the main cabin this past spring, so now there is an even bigger main cabin and only two sleeping cabins. I am in the sleeping cabin which overlooks the water on the east side of the island, in the screened-in porch, sitting on a red and wicker rocking chair. Sipping coffee. And watching the sun come up.
The remaining sleeping cabin is on the far side of the island, a five minute walk through the woods on a well-worn path. B is sleeping over there, with Sadie, his golden retriever.
There is electricity (thanks to Hydropower!) and running water (from the lake). We had to bring our own drinking water, though, as drinking the lake water might result in giardiasis. There is a bathroom in the main cabin with indoor plumbing, and an outdoor shower.
No phone, no TV, no computers, no Internet. No radio even.
There are two boats – a motor launch and a smaller motor boat, as well as a pedal boat, a canoe, and a slew of kayaks.
This is where I will be spending the next five days with B and another mutual friend S. And B’s dog Sadie.
I think I have gone to Heaven.
posted by delta at 3:26 PM
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