Betty Brown
Our summer kayaking trips weren’t happening as planned. An extended trip in early July had to be cancelled because of an urgent family matter. Summer holidays were passing by quickly, and other than the GLSKA Rendezvous we hadn’t been on any trips yet and Georgian Bay was calling. The family situation had improved somewhat which allowed us a spur of the moment trip. We decided to drive up to Dillon and paddle out to the Minks and McCoys. The car was packed quickly and we arrived in Dillon at approximately 8 a.m. The wet weather wasn’t going to dampen our spirits because at this point we figured this could be our only paddling trip of the summer. Thunder rolling in the distance, raining, we were faced with the decision, do we launch or do we wait for better weather. After about an hour the skies cleared up and we made the decision to pack and launch the boats. Bert went up to the marina office to pay for parking and mentioned that he noticed Dan and Melissa’s vehicles in the lot. It was good to know there were other paddling friends out on the islands and we were hoping to meet up with them. Bert left a message on Dan’s cell phone to let him know we were paddling out Shebeshekong Channel towards the McCoy Island chain and to look out for us.
After paddling for three hours in the rain and wind, we landed on Cona Island in the Hertzberg chain for a much needed rest. We did a short hike to explore the island. After stretching our legs and having a snack, we launched and looked for a western passage through the islands for our crossing to Big McCoy. We paddled and searched endlessly for a gap in the islands but kept encountering dead ends. Exhausted from the weather and a long day of driving and paddling (with only three hours sleep) we decided we would spend the night on Cona Island and started to look for a suitable campsite. We rounded a small bluff with a nice takeout spot when we noticed a large black bear which was curiously watching our approach. I was hesitant to go further, but Bert found it amusing to paddle in for a closer look. The bear stood up on its hind legs, so Bert respectfully decided to change direction and continue our quest for another campsite – the bear owned that one. We continued on for only another kilometre before exhaustion set in and made the decision to set up camp anyway, bear or no bear. It started raining again so we set up our tarp quickly and I got a warm meal cooking while Bert pitched the tent. We enjoyed an early evening of dinner and wine before crawling into our mummy bags. The phone woke us from a dead sleep; it was Dan wondering where we were. Assuring him we were safe and cozy on Cona Island, we made our plans to rendezvous with him, Melissa and Chris on Big McCoy Island the next morning and then quickly fell back to sleep.
Waking at dawn, we were greeted by heavy fog. We broke camp quickly, jumped into the boats, and paddled westward through Table Rock Channel and out into Georgian Bay. Visibility was very poor and we were paddling on compass readings only. We kept encountering small rocky islands and mistaking them for Big McCoy. I was hoping we weren’t missing the island and heading out to big sea, because it seemed to me that we were travelling far too many kilometres before reaching our destination. I was feeling apprehensive about paddling in this fog when we saw what looked like a cloud bank and the profile of trees – we were sure it was land; Big McCoy, finally!
Searching the shore for familiar boats and tents, we encountered another group of kayakers who were setting off to Pointe au Baril. After saying hello we continued on our paddle looking for Dan, Melissa and Chris. We reached our destination when we found Dan’s boat on shore. Dan was already awake and we enjoyed our morning coffee with him. Melissa and Chris had left for Green Island to clean up garbage and service a thunderbox – as they are the GLSKA Georgian Bay stewards for the summer of 2008. They had left early that morning because a group of paddlers they encountered had mentioned a mess of broken glass left on Green Island. It didn’t take long for Melissa and Chris to respond, and they arrived back early afternoon with a boat load of rubbish.
After setting up camp, Bert and I hiked the circumference of the island enjoying the stunning scenery, the smooth glaciated rocks, the windswept bonsai pines, glistening water, and wildflowers. We also saw a couple piles of debris – plastic pails, boat parts, and oil cans, etc, left there by Melissa and Chris to be picked up at a later date by the MNR. There was even a package of rancid steaks and sausages abandoned by a careless boater. What a strong stomach Melissa and Chris must have! When we arrived back at campsite the wind had picked up considerably, the swells were breaking on the rocks, creating large white boomers as far as the eye could see. Melissa and Chris had been hoping to check out another island but were now windbound because of the conditions. It was an afternoon of relaxation, but it was a calling for Bert and Dan to explore the rock gardens in the chain of islands south of Big McCoy. When they got back we prepared our dinners and met at the Flintstone style furniture for a get-together of fine food, wine, and conversation. We had concern for the boats because of the high wind and carried them to a safer place before retiring for the night.
After a night of howling wind, we awoke early to find Melissa and Chris already up and eating breakfast, getting ready for their next destination: north to Byng Inlet. Dan also got up early, took advantage of the high wind and blasted back to Dillon. The weather forecast was calling for the wind to diminish by early afternoon so we decided to wait it out.
Looking back to that weekend, not only was it adventurous, but we had the privilege of seeing first hand what a great job Melissa and Chris are doing; and we got to christen the new thunderbox they put in at Big McCoy.
It’s often nice to meet up with other paddlers and hear their stories. I’m curious as to the nice couple from Illinois who were unloading their kayaks when we landed back at Dillon Marina. “Are you Betty? The one who carries all the wine?” Hmmm, I wonder who they met on their trip?
