Wednesday 7/18 0630 hours
Watched the sun come up over Burnt Island. It is called Burnt Island because there was a fire there once. There are no cottages on Burnt Island, but the neighboring islanders banded together to buy it so it would never be developed. It offers a barrier between the main channel and these side islands and is covered by giant rocks and pine trees and scrub.
The crows are cawing loudly, a few birds singing. Otherwise, everything is calm and peaceful. The water between the closest island and here is still, a film of natural suds and crud atop the surface, as if it were a pond. The shoreline across the way is reflected in the water, and if you turn your head sideways it looks like some kind of natural totem pole.
In the distance a lone canoe glides by. I can hear two people singing. It must be the religious duo B mentioned who canoe right by his window on the far side of the island and have a sunrise service. All I can make out of their singing are snatches of “Praise the Lord!”
Yesterday we saw a black bear. The neighbors said they had spotted a black bear on Yoctangee the day before we got here. While black bears are not unusual around Georgian Bay, B had never seen one on Yoctangee and so had been somewhat skeptical.
We were swimming in the water on the far side of the island right near B’s sleeping cabin at around four in the afternoon. The water is warmer over there. I had already swum laps off the dock on the front side of the island where the water was positively frigid. So, I was content just to get in part way and float around. It was lucky I had my glasses on. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen the dark creature lumber across a bare rock on nearby Electric Island.
“I think I saw a bear,” I said.
“What?” S looked up, alarmed. “Are you joking?”
“No. Why would I joke about something like that?” I pointed towards where I had seen the moving black creature.
B was standing up on shore and started walking in the direction I was pointing. “Are you sure it was a bear?”
“Pretty sure. It was black,” I said. “Although I guess it could have been a dog. A really big black dog.”
And then B saw it, too. We both watched the bear lumber across the flat rock on the far island.
“Where? Where?” S was alarmed.
I pointed again, but the bear was gone. It had heard us and disappeared into the brush.
“Don’t worry too much,” I said. “It can’t get all the way over here that fast.” At least, I didn’t think it could.
Later, just as we were sitting down to dinner on the screened porch of the main cabin, I spotted the bear again. This time it was on Yoctangee, on the little spit of land just to the left of the boathouse. I called the others, and B and S took pictures of the bear with S’s digital camera.
It was not a very large bear. At first, we worried it was a cub and that its anxious, overprotective mother would be lurking nearby.
But B seemed to think it was a year or so old, perhaps on its own, clearly going from island to island foraging for food. Like for the blueberries growing right outside the screened in porch.
S clanked on a steel colander with a metal spoon, and the bear scampered off towards St. Helena, the next island over to the west. We hadn’t seen anyone coming or going from St. Helena’s since we had been there, so we were pretty sure no one was on that island at the moment.
After dinner, B and I kayaked around the nearby islands. As we came around the corner of St. Helena’s from the north, where we could see the dock and boathouse of Yoctangee again, B said he saw the bear. It was swimming from St. Helena’s over to Burnt Island. And it was swimming fast. We just sat there quietly in our kayaks and watched.
As soon as the bear got up onto shore, it shook itself off, much like a dog would, much like Sadie had all afternoon. Then it scampered up the rock face and disappeared into the brush. We were startled by how fast it was moving.
B reiterated, he thought this was a very hungry young bear. It was making its way from one island to the next in search of food. After we docked our kayaks, B took the small launch over to the Marleys, which was the next island past Burnt Island, to let them know about the bear.
In forty years of coming up here, B had never seen a bear on Yoctangee, and we saw one on our first day. It didn’t alarm me too much, as we used to see bears up in Alaska, but S said this was the first “real” bear she had ever seen.
Earlier in the day, we had taken the launch over to the Ojibway Club. It is on a much larger island with big docks and places to tie up small boats. The large, recently renovated Ojibway Hotel is a historic landmark, and the place was hopping with islanders and kids going to day camp. B bought some newspapers at the small gift shop, to include Tuesday’s New York Times. We sat in rockers on the big front porch with a view of the bay and read the newspapers.
The Ojibway Hotel used to be a popular resort in the early part of the 20th century where people from Canada and the United States, especially New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio, would come to spend their summer holidays on Georgian Bay. Fishing was the primary pastime then. But there was canoeing and boating and swimming and picnicking as well. By the 1950s, the hotel ceased operating as a hotel and turned into a club, a popular hub where islanders could meet for social activities and dining. By then, many of the hotel regulars who had been coming to Georgian Bay for years had bought their own islands and built their own summer cottages. While there wasn’t a need for a hotel resort anymore, the island was still a popular gathering point for the summer regulars.
After lunch, back on Yoctangee, S and I laid out on the dock. The temperature was pleasant and the sun warm. Finally, I got hot enough to jump in for a swim. The water was freezing, though. I swam back and forth between the end of the dock and a rocky point on the far side of the island. I had goggles, but I couldn’t see very far without my glasses. And the water was green and opaque, so I had to keep lifting up my head to see where I was. I was afraid of swimming into one of the docked boats or too far out into the channel.
The original cabin on Yoctangee was built in 1906. It is supposedly the second oldest cabin still standing in this area of Georgian Bay. The oldest cabin is on St. Helena’s and was built by the sister of the man who started the Ojibway Hotel.
An American couple from Ohio bought Yoctangee in the early 1900s and built the main cabin. Yoctangee means “painted waters,” and when you watch the amazing orange and pink sunsets you can see why. The couple sold the island to Harry Symons, author of Ojibway Melody in 1935, and Symons sold it to B’s paternal grandparents in 1950. Yoctangee has been in B’s family ever since.
The main cabin has a kitchen, pantry, big living room, tack room, and then this wonderful screened-in, wrap-around porch. The view of the channel and islands is incredible.
Some of the pine planks in the living room wall are very wide, telling you just how large the trees used to build the cabin were. The floors are original and even some of the furniture, too.
* * *
Although the sunrise this morning was great and the sky clear, it is now cooler and cloudy. I hope it is not going to rain. I think the forecast was for 24 degrees C and partly cloudy.
We were spoiled yesterday. The weather was perfect: sunny, not a cloud in the sky, 80 degrees with no humidity, and a light breeze. We put sunscreen on, but it was not at all uncomfortable sitting out in the sun.
It is still very calm, no big winds. So maybe it will end up being a fine day for kayaking and reading. I don’t know as how I will want to swim if there is no sun, as the water is still so cold from all of the rainy weather they had before we came. It’s probably only around 70 degrees. If not colder.
The crows are cawing loudly, a few birds singing. Otherwise, everything is calm and peaceful. The water between the closest island and here is still, a film of natural suds and crud atop the surface, as if it were a pond. The shoreline across the way is reflected in the water, and if you turn your head sideways it looks like some kind of natural totem pole.
In the distance a lone canoe glides by. I can hear two people singing. It must be the religious duo B mentioned who canoe right by his window on the far side of the island and have a sunrise service. All I can make out of their singing are snatches of “Praise the Lord!”
Yesterday we saw a black bear. The neighbors said they had spotted a black bear on Yoctangee the day before we got here. While black bears are not unusual around Georgian Bay, B had never seen one on Yoctangee and so had been somewhat skeptical.
We were swimming in the water on the far side of the island right near B’s sleeping cabin at around four in the afternoon. The water is warmer over there. I had already swum laps off the dock on the front side of the island where the water was positively frigid. So, I was content just to get in part way and float around. It was lucky I had my glasses on. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen the dark creature lumber across a bare rock on nearby Electric Island.
“I think I saw a bear,” I said.
“What?” S looked up, alarmed. “Are you joking?”
“No. Why would I joke about something like that?” I pointed towards where I had seen the moving black creature.
B was standing up on shore and started walking in the direction I was pointing. “Are you sure it was a bear?”
“Pretty sure. It was black,” I said. “Although I guess it could have been a dog. A really big black dog.”
And then B saw it, too. We both watched the bear lumber across the flat rock on the far island.
“Where? Where?” S was alarmed.
I pointed again, but the bear was gone. It had heard us and disappeared into the brush.
“Don’t worry too much,” I said. “It can’t get all the way over here that fast.” At least, I didn’t think it could.
Later, just as we were sitting down to dinner on the screened porch of the main cabin, I spotted the bear again. This time it was on Yoctangee, on the little spit of land just to the left of the boathouse. I called the others, and B and S took pictures of the bear with S’s digital camera.
It was not a very large bear. At first, we worried it was a cub and that its anxious, overprotective mother would be lurking nearby.
But B seemed to think it was a year or so old, perhaps on its own, clearly going from island to island foraging for food. Like for the blueberries growing right outside the screened in porch.
S clanked on a steel colander with a metal spoon, and the bear scampered off towards St. Helena, the next island over to the west. We hadn’t seen anyone coming or going from St. Helena’s since we had been there, so we were pretty sure no one was on that island at the moment.
After dinner, B and I kayaked around the nearby islands. As we came around the corner of St. Helena’s from the north, where we could see the dock and boathouse of Yoctangee again, B said he saw the bear. It was swimming from St. Helena’s over to Burnt Island. And it was swimming fast. We just sat there quietly in our kayaks and watched.
As soon as the bear got up onto shore, it shook itself off, much like a dog would, much like Sadie had all afternoon. Then it scampered up the rock face and disappeared into the brush. We were startled by how fast it was moving.
B reiterated, he thought this was a very hungry young bear. It was making its way from one island to the next in search of food. After we docked our kayaks, B took the small launch over to the Marleys, which was the next island past Burnt Island, to let them know about the bear.
In forty years of coming up here, B had never seen a bear on Yoctangee, and we saw one on our first day. It didn’t alarm me too much, as we used to see bears up in Alaska, but S said this was the first “real” bear she had ever seen.
Earlier in the day, we had taken the launch over to the Ojibway Club. It is on a much larger island with big docks and places to tie up small boats. The large, recently renovated Ojibway Hotel is a historic landmark, and the place was hopping with islanders and kids going to day camp. B bought some newspapers at the small gift shop, to include Tuesday’s New York Times. We sat in rockers on the big front porch with a view of the bay and read the newspapers.
The Ojibway Hotel used to be a popular resort in the early part of the 20th century where people from Canada and the United States, especially New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio, would come to spend their summer holidays on Georgian Bay. Fishing was the primary pastime then. But there was canoeing and boating and swimming and picnicking as well. By the 1950s, the hotel ceased operating as a hotel and turned into a club, a popular hub where islanders could meet for social activities and dining. By then, many of the hotel regulars who had been coming to Georgian Bay for years had bought their own islands and built their own summer cottages. While there wasn’t a need for a hotel resort anymore, the island was still a popular gathering point for the summer regulars.
After lunch, back on Yoctangee, S and I laid out on the dock. The temperature was pleasant and the sun warm. Finally, I got hot enough to jump in for a swim. The water was freezing, though. I swam back and forth between the end of the dock and a rocky point on the far side of the island. I had goggles, but I couldn’t see very far without my glasses. And the water was green and opaque, so I had to keep lifting up my head to see where I was. I was afraid of swimming into one of the docked boats or too far out into the channel.
The original cabin on Yoctangee was built in 1906. It is supposedly the second oldest cabin still standing in this area of Georgian Bay. The oldest cabin is on St. Helena’s and was built by the sister of the man who started the Ojibway Hotel.
An American couple from Ohio bought Yoctangee in the early 1900s and built the main cabin. Yoctangee means “painted waters,” and when you watch the amazing orange and pink sunsets you can see why. The couple sold the island to Harry Symons, author of Ojibway Melody in 1935, and Symons sold it to B’s paternal grandparents in 1950. Yoctangee has been in B’s family ever since.
The main cabin has a kitchen, pantry, big living room, tack room, and then this wonderful screened-in, wrap-around porch. The view of the channel and islands is incredible.
Some of the pine planks in the living room wall are very wide, telling you just how large the trees used to build the cabin were. The floors are original and even some of the furniture, too.
* * *
Although the sunrise this morning was great and the sky clear, it is now cooler and cloudy. I hope it is not going to rain. I think the forecast was for 24 degrees C and partly cloudy.
We were spoiled yesterday. The weather was perfect: sunny, not a cloud in the sky, 80 degrees with no humidity, and a light breeze. We put sunscreen on, but it was not at all uncomfortable sitting out in the sun.
It is still very calm, no big winds. So maybe it will end up being a fine day for kayaking and reading. I don’t know as how I will want to swim if there is no sun, as the water is still so cold from all of the rainy weather they had before we came. It’s probably only around 70 degrees. If not colder.
posted by delta at 10:01 PM
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