Sunday, December 5, 2010

Separation Lake Hunting & Rescue (Part 3 of 3 parts)

Read parts 1 and 2 first.

The next stage was to go back up the rapids and pick up the two Indians on shore. The male Indian in our boat went up the slope and helped the older Indian get the drunken one onto his feet. It was quite a challenge for them to get him down the slope and into the boat without drowning us all. He was so unsteady on his feet that he had no balance.

Eventually we had all four aboard so that the six of us almost overloaded our boat. I t was a slow and careful run back to the camp where we dropped off the four Indians at their cabin. The large drunk Indian was the cause of the accident and the others were not very friendly or sympathetic with him in the slightest.
It was a glum and quiet boat ride back to the camp.

The fellow whose parents managed the camp knew everyone who was rescued and he spent some time with them later to find out what happened. The married couple spoke English very well but were shy with us so we had not pressed them for information while in the boat.

The couple were the ones who were paid to stay at the camp until the lake froze. The older man that stayed in the camp and the other older Indian we rescued first was also part of the original group. The drunken Indian’s name was Joe Indian. We confirmed later that that was truly the name he was known by.

When the couple went to get more supplies to last them through the freeze up the oldest Indian stayed behind at the camp to protect it. The other older Indian went to town with them. When they had obtained their supplies and were loading their boat, Joe Indian had shown up and demanded to be taken along with them. He had been drinking and was difficult to handle so they just let him come along too.

When they were almost at the camp he started complaining that they were going the wrong way and running the boat wrong. Just before they reached the rapids he stood up in the boat and tried to get to the motor. He lost his balance and when he fell his large weight on the side of the boat caused it to swamp and fill with water. All the groceries in the boat had made it unstable and did not help the situation.

When the boat overturned they were all thrown into the water. The couple manage to swim to the reef and get out of the freezing cold water. The current swept the other two, along with the boat to the south shore where they were able to grab some bushes and climb ashore.

No one had a watch but it was estimated that the accident occurred about 4 pm as it did not take very long before it started to get dark. The Indian we first met on the shore had a couple of bottles of rum with him in the boat and he manage to save them and get ashore with his pack sack. Nothing else was saved in the entire boat.

The two groups stood there soaking wet in the cold and twenty miles as the crow flies from home. They were not aware that our group was going to be at the cabin so they believed they were all alone. Just before dark they heard the motors from our boats as we returned from camping and they knew that we had to be staying at the camp as there was no other camps for many miles and they were all closed. The old Indian at the camp could not run a boat as he was too old.

The couple on the reef were trapped and would not last long standing in the water and being splashed by the rapids. The other man was too drunk to help even himself . The older Indian took it upon himself to go for help, but first he hid his pack with the two bottles of rum under the tree branches.
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By this time is was pitch dark and very difficult to see much. He had grabbed a paddle while in the water as he could not swim. He manage to go ashore with his paddle and kept it with him on his long walk. Because the shore line was very rough and uneven he was forced to walk many miles to reach the point where we picked him up. We realized that he had been walking for at least ten hours in the dark while soaking wet with nothing to eat.

They were very lucky there had been no wind or we would have never heard him calling for help. As it was ,he had been calling for a long time when we reached him. A cold wind would also have killed the pair on the reef in a short period of time.

We would have found them on the reef on our trip home on Sunday evening but by then they would have died. I was very surprised by the attitude of the couple we plucked off the reef. We had never met before but they got into the boat and acted as if we had simply picked them up at a bus stop. A white couple experiencing this situation would have been reduced to shear panic and collapsed when rescued. I was very impressed by their calmness and fortitude.

Later we learned that the reason the Indian we first saved was so mad when he saw the other Indian laying there drunk, was he realized the Joe Indian had found his pack with the two bottles of rum. He should have been cold sober after ten hours instead he was drunk again. He managed to drink them both while his friend walked ten hours to save them all.

That day we finished our hunt, packed up and headed for home with our loaded boats and six deer. The temperature dropped on the ride back to the Indian Reserve and all the bays and quiet waters had already frozen over. That night the temperature plunged and by morning the lakes were all frozen over and only the fast moving waters in the current remained open.

Had we stayed another day we would not have got home with out great difficulty. If we had not rescued them when we did, the four Indians would have died before anyone knew they had lost the boat and were marooned without food or shelter.
 

Separation Lake Hunting & Rescue (Part 2 of 3 parts)

Part 2, read part 1 first.

I awoke in the middle of the night but did not understand what woke me. I lay there in the silence for awhile then I heard two of our group talking. They were standing outside.

I got up to find out what the matter was and quickly learned that one had got up to go to the bathroom but heard someone calling. We stood out side listening and then I heard it.

 It was a faint long drawn out hellooooooow. Then it repeated.

It was pitch dark outside and cold. At first we thought it was some other group hunting and we were hearing one of the drivers. That made no sense because it was too dark to be hunting and no one else had been seen on our trip in. We would have noticed any other hunters camp or boats.

It was too cold so I went back in and got a jacket on. When I came back out the rest of the group was up and listening. We kept hearing the long hellos about every five minutes. I was the oldest person in the group and having been a policeman in my past, they looked to me for answers.

The sound was coming from the most distant part of the lake which had to be almost two miles away. There was no wind so the yell was reaching us from a great distance. After listening for about fifteen minutes I decided the someone needed help and probably could see the lights from our camp. I went back inside and got properly dressed. One other fellow said he would go with me and he dressed quickly
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We took one of the boats and once we started the engine it would be impossible to hear the calling so it was important to get a bearing on the sound. We then headed in that direction and after a five minute run we shut off the motor and then sat there in the silence in the middle of the lake. After a short spell we heard the hellooooo and it was getting closer.

It took three or four runs across the lake with the stop to listen, before we got close to the opposite shore. Each time we stopped the sound was louder and we got a better idea of where it was coming from.

With the aid of a spot light we checked the shore line but from a distance, because of all the rocks and reefs that were waiting for us in the dark waters. Eventually our spot light picked out a man standing on the shoreline leaning on a stick which later turned out to be a paddle. We then slowly picked our way around the rocks until we reached the shore. Once the boat nosed up on the shore I could see the man was an Indian, about sixty years of age. He could not speak English very well and I could not speak Ojibwa so to communicate was difficult.

We stood in the boat and he stood on the shore while we tried to understand was he was saying. He kept pointing to the lake and made a motion as if to indicate something or someone was around the corner. He pointed to the paddle and again pointed with it back down the lake to the east, towards the river.

We got him in the boat and once we got away from the rocky shore he pointed down the lake. He did not seem to be injured in anyway but he appeared to have been in the water at some point. As we headed down the lake we proceeded slowly as it was difficult to see in the dark. The sky was starting to get lighter and sunrise should occur shortly.

After about twenty minutes of slowly running along the shore line we suddenly saw some oranges floating in the water. The Indian pointed to the oranges, grabbed one as we passed, then pointed to himself and then pointed further east. By now we were entering the river portion of the lake where there was current. We passed more floating groceries, all strung in a line from the current. At this point it seemed obvious that the Indian’s boat had swamped.

When I saw a couple of life jackets and another paddle I became concerned he had not been alone and told my young companion to be on the lookout for another person or body. While we were now in the current, the shoreline we were passing was not continuous. We were passing many small bays and points so we went by them slow enough to check them with the spotlight. Each time we did so the Indian kept point up the river.

At this point we had been traveling about a half hour and that was when we saw the nose of a boat sticking out of the water. The boat was completely vertical in the water with just a few inches of the bow showing. As it bobbed along in the current the nose would bob up and down and that was what drew our attention.

The Indian nodded his head up and down, pointed to the boat and then further up stream.
The water was now flowing much faster as we were approaching the narrowest section of the river. There was a large rocky reef in the middle of the river and the water flowing on each side was very rough and rapid.

By now the sun was coming up and we could see much better. The Indian was standing up and pointing to the right bank which sloped up steeply from the river. It had only a few trees on it but the open area was surrounded in heavy woods.

Suddenly the Indian got very excided and was yelling and pointing higher up on the shore. We could see the body of a large person lying on his back but not moving. The Indian in the boat wanted to go ashore so we moved the side of the boat to the rocks and we grabbed onto some small brush. The current was so swift we had to keep the motor running at about half throttle to stay in position long enough for the Indian to jump out.

We watched him run up the steep slope to a large thick pine tree on the right. He crawled under the tree and then came out holding an empty packsack. When he had searched it for the second time he dropped it and then ran up the hill cursing the fellow laying on the ground. He kicked him in the leg a couple of time while continuing to shout and yell. The big fellow sat up, looked around and then fell back down in a drunken stupor with an empty rum bottle in his hand.

As this little scenario was taking place he heard a shout from the middle of the river, but further up stream.
There on the small rocky island in the middle of the rushing current stood a young Indian couple. We now had two more people in need of help. They stood there waving their arms and yelling to attract our attention.

We instantly switched our attention from the two on shore to the two standing in a very precarious position.
It took only a few minutes to swing away from the shore and out into the middle of the rapids. The island was more like a rocky reef that would be completely underwater most of the year. Because this was late fall the river had dropped and exposed the jagged reef of sharp rock.

We slowly approached the reef from down stream but had to have the motor at almost full speed to get closer. The danger was the propeler could hit some rocks before the nose of the boat was close enough for them to grab. We managed to get close enough for the man to grab the nose and he then help his wife aboard. When she was safe, he quickly jumped in the boat and then the current just as quickly swept us backwards and down river.

Once everyone was safely on board and sitting down we started asking question. The first thing to be determined was if there were any more of them that needed rescuing. We were happy to learn there had only been four occupants in the boat.

End of part 2 of 3 parts

Separation Lake Hunting and Rescue - Part 1 of 3 parts

It started as a two man deer hunting trip and grew until there was six of us.

We drove north from Kenora, Ontario up the Jones road about fifty miles to the Grassy Narrows Indian Reserve where we left the vehicles. We put the three boats into the English River and headed west, down stream.

The English River flows in a westward direction through a chain of lakes from the dam at Ear Falls until it joins the Winnipeg River’ close to the Manitoba and Ontario border. Our destination was a large Tourist camp that sits on Separation Lake.

It was late October and the camp had already been closed for the winter. One of the members of our group knew the area well as he had spent many summers as a fishing guide at the camp. His parents managed the camp and he obtained their permission for us to use a couple of the cabins.

During the twenty five mile boat trip down the English river and through the lakes we failed to see another hunting party or anyone else for the matter. It could turn cold very rapidly and freeze the lakes and rivers so you could get trapped by the ice if you were not careful. Our plan was to hunt Saturday after noon and stay overnight. The following day we would continue hunting but quit early enough to make our way back to the landing where the vehicles were parked.

To protect the camp from vandalism during the hunting season, a couple of Indian summer guides were hired to stay at the camp. They came from the Grassy Narrows reserve, where we left our vehicle. They would stay at the camp until the lake had frozen and was safe enough for a plane on skis to land and pick them up. They would finish closing the camp and fly back home the twenty five miles to the reserve.

When we arrived at the camp only one older Indian was there. The rest had gone back to the reserve by boat and into Kenora to pick up enough groceries to last them until freeze up. This was an annual ritual that had been going on for a long time.

Once we had unpacked our gear and settled into a cabin we arranged to spend the rest of the day hunting.
With two hunters to each boat we set off to hunt the many islands on the lake. We had done this before so we had a system. We would go to a medium sized island and look for deer tracks in the snow.

Once we established that there were deer on and island we would go by boat to the opposite end. The first hunter would be let off with just a shotgun. The second hunter would take the boat back to the other end, where we had seen the tracks. The hunter with the shotgun would start to drive the island and he would shoot any Ruff Grouse he flushed. He would walk a zig zag path in order to drive the deer ahead of him. He would shout once in a while so that the posted hunter would know where he was.

The hunter in the boat would go ashore and find a good place to view any deer that were driven his way. This system worked most of the time but some deer were smart enough to leave the island and swim out of danger. Usually a single shot was enough to down your deer. The kill was always close to the boat so it made the recovery of the game easy.

At the end of the first day we had three deer and many grouse. It had been a long day so after a few drinks we made plans for the next days hunting. We were all in bed early, as Sunday was going to be a busy day.

Read parts 2 and 3 that follow.

Tern Island Nesting Colony

Within ten miles of the north end of Lake of the woods lies a small rocky island. It is almost round and sits low in the water and does not contain a single shrub or bush. At most, it is fifty feet across. It is just one of the fourteen thousand islands on the lake.

In the early spring, hundreds of Common Tern nest on this little island .that sits off the path of the normal boating traffic They lay one or two eggs amongst the rocks and build what we would call a rather sparse nest..

Once the eggs hatch the traffic over and around the island grows as the parents make countless trips to feed minnows to the hungry chicks. Any visitor causes the parents to hover above the island, making a horrible ruckus and frequent diving attacks directed at your head.

When ever I was canoeing in the area I would ease by the island to see all the eggs or how the hatch was going. I would stay only a few seconds and then move on before I was deafened by all the commotion.

One particular year I arrived after all the eggs had hatched and the young terns were old enough to be walking around on the island. Out of the hundreds of young birds, dozens would be in the water, bobbing about near the shore like little corks.

They could paddle about awkwardly and did not go more than a few feet from the shore. They were adding to their diet by picking up bugs and beetles in the water.

I drifted slowly towards the island and sat in the canoe quietly without moving. I was to the point that I had a few young terns in the water with in a few feet of the canoe. The parents were not too disturbed as the chicks were getting to the stage where they could look after themselves, but could not yet fly.

Once chick in particular was very close so I decided to try and get a photo. I shifted my eyes to the camera lying in the bottom of the canoe and as I picked it up I heard a splash near the young tern. When I looked at the spot where he had been floating, all that remained was a small swirl in the water and a few bubbles.

My first thought was it had dived underwater to catch a small fish or a bug. Then I realized the chicks were too young and too buoyant to dive. They floated high in the water like a bundle of fluff.

I had no idea what happened so I continued to sit there very quietly looking at the other tern chicks that were near to me. After about five minutes I saw the open jaws of a very large Northern Muskellunge rise out of the water below a tern. The huge mouth full of teeth engulfed the chick then snapped shut as it sank back below the water.

It was all done in seconds with hardly a ripple in the water and failed to disturbed the other chicks nearby, which had not the slightest idea of what had just occurred. It was a disturbing view of mother nature at work.
Like a fool I started to chase the chicks that were in the water, with my canoe and paddle and forced them to get back on the island. After about fifteen minutes I had them all on the island but everyone was rather worked up with my interference. Even the adult Terns were upset with my actions.
 
When I was done I continued on my trip feeling that I had made a difference in saving many young terns.
An hour or so later, on my way back home I passed by he island and once again a dozen or so tern were bobbing about in the water near the shore.

I paused paddling and sat there long enough to see two more Terns sucked down into the jaws of death.
Since it was obvious I could not remain at the island for the next two weeks protecting Terns and waiting for them to learn how to fly, I moved on and left things in the hands of mother nature.

Later I realized that there were thousands of Terns on the lake and if the muskies did not take their share there would soon be thousands more and eventually millions, and not enough food to support them all.
It is a tough world out there and it has been working fine for millions of years before man came along.
Terns have been around long before man showed up and they will probably outlast us all.

I decided to mind my own business and let mother nature take care of hers.
 
 
 

Friday, December 3, 2010

A dark winter night on a lonly road.

Minaki, Ontario is a small town that sits about forty miles north of Kenora on a very winding road that weaves its way around many small lakes on its journey north. Add in all the tree covered hills, swamps and rocks and it becomes a drive where the driver has to stay alert, especially at night.

Minaki Lodge was a great fishing resort and was the backbone of the town until it burned down..
It is still a great fishing destination with all its many smaller fishing lodges and camps. In winter the tourist all go home and traffic in the town and on the road drops off drastically. It can be a dull and boring place during the winter.

Some forty years ago the owner of a small grocery store in Minaki use to drive into Kenora on a regular basis to pick up supplies. He had a large station wagon and it was usually piled high on the home bound trip.

One evening, after loading up the station wagon, the store owner and his assistant started on the journey home. It was very dark and cold and they could not wait to get safely home. The car headlights were acting up and once in a while they would flutter, go out, then come back on. The driver was beginning to regret that he had not taken the time to get it repaired. Once the vehicle warmed up the problem seemed to go away.

The road was good, having been plowed recently, but because the vehicle was overload it was difficult to steer. About three quarters of the way home the two occupants were chatting away when suddenly the lights on the vehicle went out and stayed out. Everything turned pitch black and they could not see a thing. Before the brakes could be applied, the vehicle left the road on a curve and smashed into some very large rocks, after knocking over a few trees.

Once they came to a stop they found they were buried in all of the groceries that flew forward from the back of the loaded vehicle. It took some time to dig out from under all the cans and boxes and get out of the badly damaged vehicle. Once they were standing outside they realized that other than a few bumps and bruises they were both fine.

The vehicle on the other had was badly damaged and might not be repairable. The front of the car was smashed in, the radiator was leaking so that antifreeze and oil was spilling out onto the ground. The battery had also been smashed so they had no lights and no flashlight.

The vehicle had come to rest about 20 feet from the road and was hidden behind some small trees and bushes that had returned upright, after being run over.

The driver told his helper to get up onto the road and wave down the next vehicle. It was a difficult stumbling trip up to the road over all the rocks and bushes because it was pitch dark. After a short time a vehicle came by heading north and the young man stood there on the side of the road waving his hands. When the headlights of the car shone on him, the car suddenly increased speed and raced away without slowing down.

After this had happened a couple of times the grocer stumbled his way up to stand with the boy but the same thing occurred. At this point it was getting late and they were getting cold. They decided they were going to have to stand out in the middle of the road and force someone to stop and aid them. The curve in the road made it impossible for the drivers to see them until the last moment.

The next car arrived about a quarter of an hour later and the two men stepped out onto the road in front of the car and waived their hands in the air. The driver slammed on the brakes, swerved, and just missed the two. The man and the boy ran up to the drivers door. The grocer recognized the driver as an old friend and yelled at him as he yanked open the door. “Why the hell didn’t you stop when you saw us. You know who we are!”

At this point the driver seemed to relax and then he started laughing. He and his wife got out of their car and stood there in the center of the road in the middle of the wilderness, laughing and pointing at the pair standing in the beam of the headlights.

It was not long before everything started to make sense. When the station wagon crashed into the ditch and all the contents flew forward, a large sack of flower ripped open and covered everything and every one in the car with flower.

Because the station wagon occupants had no lights they did not realized they were covered in flower from head to toe. Later, they learned that the first few cars that passed the boy standing on the side of the road, had a fright and thought they had seen a ghost and kept right on going.

When the last driver saw the man and the boy step onto the road in front of him he thought the same thing.
If his car had not stalled, he later confessed, he would have sped away as fast as he could.

Once they all got to Minaki a tow truck soon had the wrecked vehicle back home. The entire interior was covered in a coating of flower, as was every bit of the contents. Both occupants had flower down their neck and in their ears and hair and had quit the time cleaning it off their clothes.

The story of the two ghosts that were seen near Catastrophe Lake went the rounds and soon every resident in the community heard the tale. It was told and retold many times with gales of laughter.

For many weeks after, the two ghosts got free drinks and a request to retell the story, when ever they appeared in a coffee shop or bar. It helped pass an otherwise dull winter in the North woods.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Bonding with a large Old Beaver

It had been a tough day and I took a break by walking down to the bare rocky shoreline and leaned against a large bolder that lay close to the water.

I was at the north end of The Lake of the Woods and it was a beautiful day. There was very little wind so the tiny waves made a gentle hiss as they came ashore on the rock shelf.
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The warm sun felt good and I particularly appreciate that there was none of the regular loud and invasive boat traffic racing about the bay. As I idled back and my mind stopped racing, I appreciate the fact that I lived in a place where I could enjoy moments like this.

I had been there about five minutes when out of the corner of my right eye my peripheral vision picked up some motion on the water. At first I thought it was a fish so I sat motionless and did not turn my head.

As the head in the water got closer I realized it was a beaver and it was heading towards me. My two feet were flat on the rocky shore and about five inches from the water. My arms were crossed over my chest. The beaver stopped by the rock and I could see it was a large adult.

The beaver then pulled himself up on the rock ledge and sat down alongside my feet. but in an upright position. The two of us sat there together, facing the same direction, enjoying the view and solitude. I slowly lowered my head and eyes so that I could get a better view of him. His head was as high as my knee and only inches away.

If some one had had a camera it would have made a great shot.. “Two old local residents enjoying the sun and solitude.”

The beaver at this point started washing his face and paws and then worked at cleaning his fur. He was quite thorough and after about five minutes was quite spiffy when he was done. By now I realized this was a very large old beaver and it had to weight over 80 pounds. He was so close I could have reached down and patted him on the head.

My butt was going to sleep on the hard rock and I knew I could not sit there any longer. I did not wish to startled the beaver too much so I simply moved the toe of my boot that was closest to him about two inches and touched him softly on the side of his foot.

My intensions were good but the beaver reacted as if he had been kicked. He instantly dived in to the water and paused only long enough to smack his large flat tail down on the water surface. I was generously soaked from head to foot as he dived deep and left for a more pleasant location.

I head back to work dripping wet but thoroughly refreshed.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

A Great Sense of Smell

Years ago I was snowshoeing down the middle of a small river in Northern Minnesota. It was early in the morning and the snow was deep with a fresh layer on top. The only sign of life was the track of three coyotes that were traveling one behind the other, also in the middle of the river.

Because of the recent snow fall I knew the tracks were only a few hours old. As I followed their trail I could see that they were not wasting any time and no doubt were heading for a favorite safe spot to spend the day.

The river was about forty feet wide with high wooded banks on each side. The river was winding so it was difficult for me to see ahead very far. I never did see the coyotes.

After following the coyote tracks for some distance I noticed one of them left the others and made a sudden sharp left turn then stopped after about twenty feet, but still a few feet from the bank. The other coyote tracks continued on without change. I turned aside and followed the single track.

The snow was flat and undisturbed from one side of the river to the other. The coyote had stopped and dug a hole down into the snow for about a foot, then continued on back to the main trail and fell in behind the first two coyotes.

Curiously, I dug down into the bottom of the hole and found an empty beer bottle. When I held it up to the light I could see something inside. When I looked down through the open end I saw a dead field mouse.

The mouse had squeezed into the open bottle because it had traction in the snow. However, when it tried to get back out of the bottle it had no traction on the smooth glass and found itself trapped, and died.

The amazing part was the coyote smelled the dead mouse from at least twenty feet away, in a bottle, and buried under a foot of snow.

It thought it was a great demonstration of a coyote’s sense of smell.