Memories of Bass Lake (Steenburg Lake, Gilmour, Ontario)
by Richard McCarthy
CHAPTER 1
- Arrival at the lake
I was a 7 year old boy when my parents, Malcolm and Helen McCarthy, first brought me to Bass Lake for the summer
of ’53. I’m referring to Steenburg Lake
as “Bass Lake”, as that’s how everyone
referred to it at that time. The common
name became “Steenburg Lake” over the years,
as I understand there are about 50 Bass Lakes in Ontario, resulting in lots of confusion when one asked
on what lake you were cottaging. My
Uncle Dick ( Dr. Richard (Dick) Potter) , my mother Helen’s brother, had encouraged us to spend a summer at a
cottage that was for rent two lots up from where they had built their cottage
several years prior. The Potters had
purchased their land from a lady by the name of McMullen who had owned a fair
bit of the shoreline along that side of the lake. I’m not sure whether she had any formal
medical or nursing training, but I had
learned as a child that a young man by the name of Dewey had been very sick, and that Mrs. McMullen had arranged for him
to stay at her home on the lake which has been known in recent years as the
Savage’s cottage. As a result of Mrs.
McMullen’s care, the clean air around
the lake, and the relaxing setting, Mr. Dewey regained his health. In the following years, he purchased and/or was given the little
island off the shore that has been know to many as Dewey’s Island, where he built a good sized 2 storey
home. The Dewey’s arrived every summer
from the USA to spend the summer during the years we were raised at what is now
the Pollards’ home.
It’s hard to believe, seeing it now, that little Dewey’s Island had such a grand
cottage on it, with a boathouse with a
wet slip facing towards the shore. The
Dewey’s had a right-of-way, or an
understanding to have access to the lake between the Savages and what was the
Potters’ cottage, and that allowed them
to have easy access to their island.
The Dewey’s had 3 children,
Butch, Peggy and David. I can remember as a young boy being shown
around the upstairs of their cottage,
and being so impressed with the main bedroom upstairs that had big
wooden shutters that were pulled up with sash cords and pulleys to allow for a
beautiful view right up the lake. On a
summer evening with a gentle breeze, it
must have seemed close to heaven sleeping up there. One night when we played cards as a group on
Dewey’s Island, I had the opportunity to
eat my first Pizza. I’d never had one
before. It came in a box with a little
tin of tomato sauce and was made by Chef Boy Ardee.
Many years latter, late in the fall, an electrical storm caused the island to be
hit with lightning. There was a large
propane tank on the island next to the side of the building, and it exploded, ripping open like a tin
can, destroying most of the island. The chimney remained standing, and the boathouse was there for years
following, until it was dismantled. I had heard that Butch and David Dewey both
wanted to rebuild a cottage, but could
not agree as to whether it should be on the island or on a shore lot. The island could have been rebuilt at the
time as “extensive repairs”. Apparently
they could not agree, and nothing was
re-built.
CHAPTER 2
- Purchase of the cottage
Our family enjoyed our first summer renting the
cottage. It was being rented from the
LaFrance family from Belleville that owned their summer home next door where
Tom and Charlie Quinn own now. Our
cottage had been owned by the Campbell family.
I never met the Campbells, but was reminded of their existence many
times as a young boy with their names burned into paddles and other boating
equipment around.
It seems that the LaFrances and Campbells didn’t
get along very well. Must have been
like the Hatfields and the McCoys. In
the summer of ’52, prior to our arrival
in 1953, my mother’s sister Ena Sinden
and her husband Reg had rented the cottage from the Campbells, who had it for sale. The Campbells would not have entertained an
offer from the LaFrances, so the
LaFrances had arranged for my aunt and uncle to present an offer to purchase
the cottage, and then closed it in their
name. This gave the LaFrances the
opportunity to pick their next door neighbour. Mom and Dad purchased the cottage from the
LaFrances following our summer rental,
and the many wonderful years of living next door to Don and Freda
LaFrance, with daughter Donna, started.
I do remember that I couldn’t go outside and
make any noise in the morning before 11 o’clock, in order to not wake up the
LaFrances. I could never understand
anyone sleeping away the beautiful mornings at the lake.
CHAPTER 3
- Hurricane Hazel
We had beautiful big pine trees all around our
cottage, and in front of it down by the
lake. No one would ever even think of
cutting down any of them, they were so
beautiful. In October of 1954, Hurricane Hazel went through our area, causing tremendous damage.
Luckily,
none of the trees landed on our cottage, but it looked as though a bomb had been
dropped. A wonderful man by the name of
Frances Calnan came to our rescue, and with his horse, skidded the huge logs away into piles where
they could be taken to a mill for lumber.
As a boy, I couldn’t believe how
wonderful it was to have all the trees down,
and the beautiful sunshine pouring through where it hadn’t shone for
years. As I mentioned before, one would never have thought of cutting down
any of the beautiful trees, and it took
Hurricane Hazel to do the unmentionable.
On the other side of the road from the cottages
that went around the lake, there was a
entrance to a small road that did a loop back into the brush where the
Steenburg Lake Association had a garbage dump for the cottagers on the north
road. Mr. Don LaFrance, our next door
neighbour, was the member of the
association who was responsible for the dump.
I don’t think he was ever excited with his management title. The reason I’m mentioning this at this
point, is that Mr. Calnan kept his work
horse in a little wooden building at night in by the dump. My big treat as an 8 or 9 year old boy was
to be thrown up on the back of the big tired work horse at the end of the
day, and ride him to the wooden shed
where he knew fresh hay, a drink of cool
water and rest waited for him. Between
opening up the sky and all this adventure,
Hurricane Hazel had been my friend.
CHAPTER 4 - A venture to buy a treat
There were always lots of adventures
to go on around the lake, but as 8 or 9 year old boys one of the
favorites that sticks in my memory was walking along the shore with my cousin
or brother and sister by way of a small path quite close to the shoreline that
led all the way along to what used to be called the “Bass Lake Lodge” in the
north east corner of the lake. We’d have a small amount of “coin” in our
pockets, and I think the plan our parents had was that for that small
amount of coin, they knew they could have peace and quiet around the
cottage for a few hours. There were a few cottages along the shore at the
time, and the neighbors were always pleased to see us walk by on our
hike, giving us a friendly wave. There were two ladies who would greet
us at the lodge that seemed like older ladies to us at the time, but I
guess at the age of 8 or 9, everybody seemed old. In the screened
porch of the lodge, there were large glass jars with screw-on tops in which the
ladies kept chocolate bars in which they sold to the guests at the lodge or to
anyone else that happened to drop in. Those were the best chocolate bars
I’ve ever eaten, and the memory of eating them while wandering back along
the trail towards home with my family members with me is one I’ll always
treasure.
As we got older, our trips
became a little longer. We’d travel by boat down through the gap between
Walsh’s Island and Dr. Lilli Matheson’s point to eventually pull up our boat at
the sand beach and walk from there out to Mawson’s General Store where Trudy’s
place now operates. Max Mawson and his wife operated the
store, and any of us who were around at that time will remember how Max
would come in from working on his tractor wiping his hands on a rag and slice
you some cold meat or bologna if you wanted to buy some. Another time
when we bought some bananas, the cat had chosen to have her kittens
there, so that was quite a treat for us kids.
CHAPTER 5 - What’s in a name
A man by the name of “Fisher” lived
in the cottage on the other side of the LaFrance’s (now the Quinn’s) cottage.
You would regularly see Mr. Fisher trolling slowly up and down our bay
from the point just past where Tom Hugh’s cottage is located to Dewey’s Island.
Mr. Fisher always had a string of fish he’d caught.
Mr. Fisher’s name was certainly
fitting, and it was only when Marilyn and I moved to Peterborough almost
40 years ago that I realized the significance of a name. When we arrived
in Peterborough at that time, we had an internist by the name of Dr.
Belch, a podiatrist by the name of Dr. Foot, lawyers by the names
of Lawless and Crook and a gynecologist by the name of Dr. Butt.
Mr. Fisher will always be my
introduction to significant names.
CHAPTER 6 - A very special gift
When the Fishers sold their
cottage, a family by the name of Yenovkian had purchased it. They
were a great couple probably in their 50’s or 60’s at the time, and had
come to our wonderful country from Armenia. I can still vividly remember
Mrs. Yenovkian telling me how her father and brother were led out in front of
their house in Armenia when she was a girl and shot to death while she watched
in horror. Tears came to her eyes when she told me this story those many
years later, and I wondered how she could have slept at night.
The Yenovkians had a son John who
was probably about 30 years of age, and I remember how he loved visiting
his mom and dad at the cottage. They had about a 14 foot boat with a new
shiny white 5 1/2 horsepower
Johnson outboard motor on it, and I remember how impressed I was at the
time with that motor.
In the fall of the first season that
they were at the cottage, Mr. Yenovkian let me know that they had one too
many boats under their cottage, and he took me under the cottage and
showed me the boat he was going to let me have for my own the next spring when
we came up to the cottage. All that winter, I dreamt about that
boat, and of all the wonderful times I was going to have with my very own
boat. My imagination exaggerated the condition and size of the
boat, and I can remember how disappointed I was when I first saw it the
next spring. It had a broken gunnel on the starboard side, and
needed some major repair. Mr. Johncox who lived in the next cottage
along and was one of my special friends saw my boat when I got it in the
water, and said he’d like to repair it for me. As it so
happened, Mr. Johncox was a retired wood shop teacher from the USA,
and by the time he got through with my boat, it looked as good as new.
What a wonderful gift both of them had given to me, just a young boy that I
was.
I made myself a deck for the boat in
front of the middle seat, and with a sheet of 3/4 inch plywood cut into a
disc for the steering wheel and some galvanized plumbing parts as a
steering shaft, I was able to sit in the middle seat facing forward to
drive my boat. Now all I needed was a motor. Mom and Dad had an
Eaton’s Viking 5 horsepower motor with a speed lever across the front of it and
an integral gas tank. They let me borrow it to put on my boat, and
when I filled the gas tank on the motor right to the top, it would give
me just enough gas for me to sit at my steering wheel and go all the way around
the shore of the lake, all three bays, and run out of gas right at
the front of our cottage.
I was one happy little boy at the
cottage that summer!!