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When..." by William Henry Fuller 1993 CHAPTER [2] Lake of the Woods  LAKE MALACHI......SUMMER OF 1933 |
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When this next episode took place I was only 12 and my cousin Bob was 10. Bob Gunn lost his Mother when he was only about 6 or 7 years old. His Dad, Uncle Stan Gunn, was a World War I amputation victim. He lost a leg well above the knee during the war. Uncle Stan remarried in 1934 to Aunt Leona and spent their brief honeymoon at our camp at Malachi. Bob was with us all that summer, as he was most of the years we were there. It is really strange that the simplest circumstance can have the greatest impact on events that can compound into tragedy or near tragedy. To explain what I mean, we lived in Miesner Bay at Malachi, an area of the lake where the shoreline is like a beach that has a very gentle slope into the water. In fact, at our camp we would have to wade 30 or 40 feet before we were waist deep. There was a lot of vegetation in the water, such as reeds, which we had pulled over the years so that it was pretty clear by now. But there was still moss on the floor of the lake and it would squeeze up between your toes when you stepped on it. We were used to it, and to us it felt like walking on cushions, but to the newcomer it felt creepy-crawly. So it was with Aunt Leona, so she would not go in the water. However, about 7 or 8 camps to the south of us the shoreline sharply changed. It was possible to dive off the end of the dock at Campbell's camp into about 7 or 8 feet of water. The Campbells were very nice people and let us kids use their dock anytime we wanted. So on this day, Aunt Leona and Uncle Stan decided they would go up to Campbells, Bob and I went with them. Uncle Stan, because of his artificial leg would not go in the water, in fact, he was not fond of the water at all. Aunt Leona was a "dog-paddler", she said, and as long as she wasn't splashed she could paddle around the dock close enough to grab hold. She insisted on going in the water. Bob and I were very concerned about it but we didn't know how to deal with it. We dove in and swam around close by, keeping our eyes on Leona as she climbed down the ladder into the water. Everything started out fine, she paddling around within touching distance of the bumpers on the dock. She was getting a little more courageous, actually enjoying it when a small wave from a passing motor boat (the wave was more like a 3 or 4 inch ripple) slapped her on the face, she choked on a mouthful of water and immediately went under. Bob and I were both in the water, only a few feet away when she started thrashing around. Uncle Stan panicked on the dock and was frantically reaching out while lying flat on his stomach, trying to grab her. Bob and I reached for her as she went under but she was far too strong for us and fought us off. We continued to grab an arm and under her chin to pull her up as we treaded water but we could get nowhere. We were now 8 or 10 feet away from the dock while someone from Campbell's house was on the dock holding on to Uncle so he wouldn't fall in the water! (this we found out later). Suddenly Bob stopped grappling with Aunt Leona, twisted around and swam to the bottom. He stood on the bottom and grabbed one of her legs, and started pushing upwards. I followed him down, grabbed her other leg and began to push upwards as well. We then started walking her toward the dock. We were in about 8 feet of water, pushing up and hoping against hope that we had pushed her head above the water. I don't know how long it took, perhaps only a few seconds, before we realized we were making progress. We both began to calm down and work more effectively. We were getting close enough to the dock now so that Bob was able to grab it. Then we felt we were not having to push as hard and Aunt Leona was not kicking. We both surfaced at this point and saw Aunt Leona being pulled out by Uncle Stan and one of the Campbells. Bob and I struggled up the ladder, our lungs were bursting and all we could do was hug one another and watch as Aunt Leona began to recover. What a close call !! Uncle Stan was terribly upset. He was feeling so hurt because he was unable to do anything and yet he tried so desperately. Aunt Leona spent the next day in bed. Uncle Stan slowly recovered from his shock and melancholy as he saw Aunt Leona's spirits improve. They decided to cut their honeymoon short by a couple of days and we certainly couldn't blame them. Bob stayed on with us for the rest of the summer and everything slowly got back to normal. I think we all learned a lesson that summer - don't take everything for granted, beware of everyone's limitations when you go swimming. LAKE OF THE WOODS Malachi, Ontario was exactly 100 miles east of Winnipeg on the C.N.R. line. It was one of the many beautiful lakes in a series called the "Lake of the Woods". The main lake, Malachi, where we lived, was about 4 miles long and 1 to 1-1/2 miles wide. On the south end of the lake was a 100 yard long creek leading to Second Lake, which was almost as large as ours. It was totally uninhabited except the odd Indian camp during the spring when the Jock fish (pike) were at their best for eating. Near the southern tip of Malachi Lake was a foot path that was about 1-1/2 miles long and climbed upwards the entire way until you were on the shores of another uninhabited beautiful lake called "Lake of the Clouds". It was shaped like a round pond about a mile or so in diameter. It was inhabited with pickerel and perch fish, hundreds of loons and as many turtles. But not a solitary camper! A beautiful place to picnic and fish. It was not frequented very much, probably because of the climb. One summer I had made friends with a local resident family. Richard Simpson was around my age (15) but about 6'2", size 12 shoes and awkward as all get-out. He was a real bushman and canoeist, as well as being strong as an ox. We decided to go on a canoe trip, and after some time convincing Mom we would be OK, we took off on a 5 day camping and canoe trip. There were so many lakes and creeks in the area, we canoed all day for 5 days, portaged about 4 times, no longer than 20 minutes, and we actually circled Lake Malachi without ever being more than 5 miles away from our home at any time ! A great trip and a great memory for two young kids - and a greater relief to Mom when we arrived at our dock tired, dirty, sunburnt, blistered hands from paddling, but safe and sound. I must add that we were rather proud of ourselves for accomplishing such a feat. One night though, I was a little less than brave. A couple of deer invaded our campsite and started rummaging around our pack-sacks. I became braver when I found out it was only deer! It did remind me that Bob Gunn and I encountered a bear on the railroad track the previous year not too far away from where we were camped that night. Since we, and the bear, immediately started running in opposite directions as fast as we all could, the encounter was very brief. We chose not to talk about it when we got home. Needless to say, we never took that particular walk again. As a child and young teenager, I was always interested in sports. I learned to skate at age 5, played pick-up hockey, later went into speed skating. I played scrub softball every chance I got, mostly at school during lunch and at recess times. I played on a baseball team for two years at the Junior level, ages 17 and 18 I think. I also played tennis for 3 or 4 years. That was probably my best game. The last year I played tennis I lost in the finals to a Robert Esselmont for the local Junior Championships. He was a terrific athlete. It was very sad because he died before he was eighteen years old from a faulty valve in his heart. I found it difficult to get committed to any summer sport because I was down at Lake Malachi for 9 or 10 weeks every year from about age 12 onward to age 19. In Manitoba, few summer sports got underway before mid-April or the first of May. When I was at Malachi, as soon as I was old enough to do odd jobs, I was chopping wood for Dick Smith and later delivering ice to summer camps in Bradley's Bay where the rich people lived. I used Dad's motor boat for this job. I delivered it twice a week for $2.00 a trip. It took me 2 to 3 hours to make the deliveries, depending how many blocks I had to cut in the ice house. Trouble was, Dad's boat had a .9 horsepower Johnson outboard motor on it. It took an hour and a half to get to Bradley's Bay and back. So, it wasn't a very big paying job. The ice job lasted two years, then I got a job cutting hay for Bob Westwood. That was a bit tougher because we used a scythe to do the cutting. But the good news was, it was a short term job. When haying was done, we switched over to hauling logs two miles through the bush from a neighbouring lake to his farm. We each rode a horse bareback to and from the lake while the horses pulled out the logs. After the first day, I had worn the skin off my backside the size of a silver dollar. I couldn't sit down comfortably for a week. Thank goodness it rained several days and gave me a chance to heal. I don't remember what he paid me for this work, but I seem to recall it was better than the ice job. I was actually glad when my boss, Bob Westwood, decided to stop hauling logs for the summer. After all, through my lifetime, (as many of you may know) logging was not my strong point. Bob then got me to run his gas and oil station for him. It was located next to the C.N.R. station docks where the boats from all over the lake came in to meet the trains, do their grocery shopping and generally hang out. I was only required to be on the job when the one daily train went through, plus weekends for the two trains on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I was paid commission and it was by far the best paying summer job I had. |
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Anyone wishing to exchange remembrances of the cottage days at Malachi back in the late 1920's and early 1930's can reach Bill on E Mail at : eleanorf@highspeedplus.com |
