In my grade six social studies book there was a chapter on how the indigenouspeoples (they were called ‘Indians’ back then), métis, voyageurs, coureurs de bois and furtraders used canoes. What an aesthetically beautiful and efficient means of transportation! I set my sights on becoming the very first Ukrainian-Canadian expert canoeist.
I heard that the Boy Scouts had a canoeing program. I became a Cub until I was old enough to become a Scout. Haliburton’s Camp Kenabi was the site of the Scout’s summer of 1951 canoe camp.
Day one: we were marched down to the waterfront and given paddles, then told toclamber aboard the thing that was by the shoreline [see this week’s illustration]. That ‘thing’ was definitely not a canoe. It was ‘Juno 1944′ event, but in reverse. The ‘paddling’ we did was more like beating at the water.
Day Two: “Today you kids are going canoeing!” Like the POWs in “The Bridge on the River Kwai”, we returned to the lake. There were almost a dozen canoes in a circle, tied bow to stern. Our orders were, “Time to get in and get going!” It was like a scene from “Titanic”.
That was the sum total of my canoeing career until 1961. I bought my first car, a VW‘Beatle’. I drove to Ramsey Lake and the seaplane base of Austin Airways. Moored out in the lake was a rare Noorduyn Norseman. I went to the office and asked, “May I borrow your canoe to photograph your aircraft?”
“Know how to paddle?”
“Sure! I’ve had lots of instruction and experience. Lots!” (I’ll give you credit for guessing how I did out on that windy lake.)
Returning to Toronto, I went to Leckie’s Marina on the Humber River and purchased a 16′ Chestnut brand cedar strip canoe. By trial and error (mostly lots of the latter), I eventually became a self-taught canoeist. Finally, rookie me was taken under the wings of an expert group of paddlers.
Next week, the next chapter on my life as a canoeist.
