ritchiewith

The Lost World

There is a ledge on a rock cliff along the mainland shore east of the mouth of the Musquash River in southeastern Georgian Bay. In the early 1920s when summer populations were much less than now, a tiny shack appeared on that ledge. It was the fulfilment of a dream of several girls from cottagesContinue reading “The Lost World”

They loved their ships

Following the wreck of a sailing ship in Georgian Bay in 1891, the publication Marine Review commented on the depth of affection people in the marine world had for particular ships. The writer had been told by an old mariner: “For God’s sake don’t say the old boat went to pieces becasuse she was rotten.Continue reading “They loved their ships”

Pluck is all a man needs

Scattered settlers and early cottagers along the Georgian Bay shores relied upon small local steamboats for supplies and transportation during the navigation season. One of the year-round people was James Drummond, a widower who settled on a small mainland bay north of Honey Harbour in 1899. He built a frame cottage and two stone barnsContinue reading “Pluck is all a man needs”

A hardy homesteader

On the east side of Tomahawk Island is a narrow S-curve channel. In the days before power boats it must have been a peaceful, serene waterway protected from the winds and waves of the main channel on the west side of the island. A frequent user of it in the 1930s was an elderly genttlemanContinue reading “A hardy homesteader”

Beautiful Beausoleil

Today it’s a national park, the cornerstone of the Georgian Bay Islands National Park. But Beausoleil Island, just west of Honey Harbour, had a history of human activity before it became a park in 1930. It is unusual in its geography, as its 1,089 hectares span Georgian Bay’s two distinct geographic zones: the rugged, rockyContinue reading “Beautiful Beausoleil”

An old charmer

He talked like a really tough, old-school skipper. But when we met Capt. Don Keith in 1970 his mask slipped a bit revealing an old rascal with a sense of humour and a capacity for mischief. He’s been gone for many years now but I still remember him fondly though I didn’t know him well.Continue reading “An old charmer”

Winter apparition

Fifty years ago (in 1970) we were on a snowmobile running west across the ice of Twelve Mile Bay. A bit of wind swirled fluffy flakes of snow creating a gentle blizzard effect which made the shoreline and islands, as they gradually appeared, stand out from the murky background. Through this gloom nearly a mileContinue reading “Winter apparition”

Last of the log rafts, and Paddling into the sunset

This short clip was published in 1938 in Blackwood’s Magazine in the U.K., in an article by A.H. Lightbourn of Toronto about sailing his 20-foot sloop up the Trent-Severn Waterway to Georgian Bay and north to Pointe aux Baril in 1937 or earlier. They had moored overnight at an island on the Inside Passage “…andContinue reading “Last of the log rafts, and Paddling into the sunset”

Testing their mettle

With packed snow squeaking underfoot, the two young Englishmen shouldered their knapsacks, clipped their boots onto long wooden skis, grasped their poles, and looked out across the ice of Midland harbour at the route they would follow. It was mid-winter of 1940. “Right,” said Ken, elder of the brothers, “let’s get started.” Ron agreed, andContinue reading “Testing their mettle”

From mouths of babes…

I can’t say I actually remember this, so it must have been during the summer of 1939 when I was three. Our front window looked out to where the Inside Passage wended its way among the islands south of Cognashene. One very foggy day as the grown-ups were chatting on the other side of theContinue reading “From mouths of babes…”