One in a Thousand
We are in Gananoque, Ontario, about to launch our loaded canoe and kayaks to paddle to our campground at McDonald Island. It is one of the Thousand Islands, (one of 1,864 islands really, but who’s counting)? This island is a National Park, approximately one kilometer from shore that is only accessible by water. It is a good distance for the uninitiated paddle-in camper who wants to test the waters. In our case, it’s an opportunity to spend a few days paddling in the Admiralty sector at our leisure.
We land on the island on the small beach in between the motorboat docks and unload, lugging all our belongings to our site. We will find out later that there is a wagon available to campers to make this task easier. The sites are in clusters and the only one near ours is vacant. For a change, the boys get the bigger tent, the one I nicknamed “the castle,” because there are three of them to our two. It is a rare occurrence for the males to outnumber the females on our excursions. To our delight, there is an enclosed recreation building just a stone’s throw away from our site, with a large box for storing food. It will keep our food away from curious raccoons and give us shelter should it rain. We pick up some firewood which is purchased on an honor-system by putting money in a slotted lockbox. We are ready!
It is time to explore the islands surrounding us. Our first destination is Bostwick Island, where we can find the popular Half-Moon Bay, a unique place where non-denominational worship services have taken place on summer Sundays since 1887. It is a natural crescent-shaped bay carved in rock by retreating glaciers. An enormous half-moon sign looms above us, announcing its presence. As today is Monday, the area is deserted. Along the rockface of the narrow bay, steel cables are anchored to enable boats to moor while attending the service. On the opposite side stands a pulpit. I try to envision what a mass in progress would have looked like a century ago, a tranquil haven filled with wooden boats.
On Day Two, our plan is to paddle to Twarthway Island, a hidden gem I am eager to revisit for its charming sandy bay. I am so looking forward to a refreshing swim! A six-kilometres paddle is required, some of it through unsheltered open water. It is windy and the crossing is rough, so rough that we decide to abandon our plans. I am disappointed but I get over it quickly. Safety must come first. We paddle to the shelter of an island and make our way back zigzagging through several more, exploring each one’s uniqueness. We encounter a bevy of Mute Swans swimming gracefully to our left, a small consolation prize for the ditched beach.
A sunset paddle to watch Gananoque’s fireworks proves to be a little bit more than we bargained for. Restless, we decide to leave early to hang out on the river. We slither amongst the yachts that have chosen to anchor here for the night to view the light show. The sunset is magnificent from this vantage point, but we are not prepared for the swarm of mosquitoes. With the fireworks delayed, we spend forty- five minutes slapping at the voracious pests and voicing the occasional “ouch!” Finally, the first firework explodes, soon followed by a collective cheer. The colourful bursts reflected on the water’s surface are dazzling, and before long, the mosquitoes are all but forgotten. As the last of the smoke dissipates in the air, we turn on our lights to retreat to our camp. To our dismay we immediately realize that the mosquitoes have been replaced by thick clouds of shadflies. Attracted by our headlights, they dart at our faces. We paddle frantically, but try-as-we-might, we cannot divert head-on collisions with these flying beasts. Blinking our eyes and spitting out unwanted proteins, we race to the imaginary finish line. For obvious reasons, no one dares open their mouth to speak. Landing safely and away from the fluttering creatures, someone sums up our hasty evacuation with “That was nasty!” It surely was, but totally worth it in retrospect.
Our life as islanders has come to an end and it is almost time to paddle back to the mainland. But first, we must tote our belongings back to our waiting canoe and kayaks, this time using the convenient wagon. It has been a great experience, but after a few days without running water and legs dotted with itchy insect bites, I am ready to go home.
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