Some Wonderful Words Worth Spreading

Marmitetoasty had a blog entry, which hopefully remains posted, that had a comment made by a "Jeanne H".

I know Tori and LadyStyx have read it it already, but I wanted to bring it "over here" so I could re-read it now and then, and so I could remember and possibly learn or absorb the insight the words offer - and since they are "good words well put," to share them with others that haven't seen them:

Please get this, [addressed to Marmitetoasty], not one of us is any better than the other. God made us all the same. It is the circumstances of life that form our character...we ALL have problems in life...I believe God knows who are the strong ones who can be trusted to get through the hurdles that come their way. Don't ever for a moment think that you are not loved. This [very difficult] time in your life is temporary, honest it is...tomorrow the sun will shine and you'll be stronger for having gone through the rough time. A friend once said to me "we go through what we go through so we can help someone else go through what we went through!" Please do keep in touch with us, no matter how bleak things look. Every cloud has a silver lining...there IS light at the end of the darkness. And you are RICH in friendships!

Lake Temagami, Ontario, Canada , Part II

You have undoubtedly heard the expression "the shortest distance between two points is a straight line" which is very true... except for a special case.

While staying at Camp Chimo, my two brothers and I were out in the boat with my dad and his father, when for some reason, I suspect personal business ones as the boat had no facilities, the three of us wanted out of the boat for a moment.

Looking at the chart of the lake, my dad found a spot where the water was deep right up to the bank at the shore.


Pardon my crude map, but this is basically shows the situation. We were dropped off at a narrow point on a rocky, pine covered peninsula. We were to walk across to the "other side" and get picked up over there in a "few minutes". My younger brother and I were given very explicit instructions, "no matter what, stay together and follow your older brother.

So, in grand voyager fashion, off we set... the woods were tremendously thick, the granite rocks high and moss covered, and spider webs hung across every last branch - after following my older brother for what seemed like 10 minutes or so, I asked, "Are you sure you know where you are going?" and he firmly replied in the affirmative. After about 10 more minutes, I asked again and got the same reply. Long minutes followed, when my younger brother tugged on my sleeve and whispered to me, "I think he is lost! and you know what that means?!? we are too!!!"

We walked for what seemed to be an hour or so, and finally to our relief the sight of water and the lake came into view.


The shortest distance between two points is not the wrong straight line!

After sitting on the "beach" for a while... we heard the sound of a boat horn to which we yelled "WE ARE OVER HERE!!!" and the Sandpiper III hove into to view around the point and into the cove. After what seemed like two hours, we were back on the boat listening to my grandfather saying to my dad, "Boy! am I glad I don't have to tell the boy's mother that we lost them and a bear ate them or something."

Lake Temagami, Ontario, Canada

Alice Kay's pictures of Westree, ON, Canada (and the cabin on the lake) sent me to the map to see where it was -


The Balloon 'A' Marks the Spot

The red arrow points to the location of a Camp Chimo on Lake Temagami.

Ah... Lake Temagami. In Ojibway (native american), it means "deep waters"...


I remember it was also very COLD water! The top foot or so of the lake was slightly warmed up by the sun, but if you dove off the diving board, you plunged into some very icy depths! So you learned how to "swim on the top" there! As you can see from the picture above, the cold water keeps things cool.


Camp Chimo, Lake Temagami

The "camp" was actually a rustic resort, it had a dining hall, a game hall with jigsaw puzzles, books, and a ping pong table. There were about 7 or 8 cabins that I can remember. Out front of the dining hall was a floating dock that had a diving board. There was a place to tie up your boat and they had a bunch of canoe for taking day trips. As far as I know, this place no long exists. The Temagami Lodge may or not be the same place - their website certainly gives you a feel for what Camp Chimo was like.


Picture taken by my dad's father of my brothers and I in 1972
- on our way home, crossing Lake Temagami

My mom and grandmom had a "girls summer out" going to England on a tour, so my dad, grandfather and "us boys" towed my dad's new boat, the Sandpiper III up past Niagra Falls, across the border into Canada and then into the Canadian wilderness in the "great white north" beyond Toronto and Sudbury.

I recall swimming, boating, fishing, playing in a ping pong tournament where one of my brothers won, eating basic but very good food, and ... a couple embarrassing moments for my brothers.

My younger brother was a little umm, awkward shall we say? He had trouble going through a meal at dinner time without some misfortune besetting him, be it spilling his milk all over or dropping his plate on the floor, or what have you - this behavior eventually led us to teasingly calling him "super slop" and the refrain "super slop strikes again" was all too often heard at the dinner table. My grandfather thought up this "contest" - for every meal he went while at Camp Chimo without messing up, his "title" would would become less in magnitude and for every accident, the title would grow in magnitude.

- the scale was very elaborate and I don't remember the exact specifics but it went something like "just a slop", "medium slop", "big slop" "super slop", "mega slop", "ultra slop", "ultra supreme slop" and so on.

So, my younger brother struggled at each meal, so tense he could scarcely move, in an effort to loose his title. He did very well, getting down to "medium slop" (or some such) at the beginning of the last meal at Camp Chimo. Someone decided it was time to take some "corrective action", probably someone he had beaten in ping pong, perhaps it was even me, I claim to no longer remember.

In any event, while young brother was away from the table, salt shakers had their tops unscrewed, ketchup bottles had water stirred into them, napkins had silverware hidden in them, and so forth... When my younger brother started eating, he immediately sent his silverware to the floor - upset, he poured a huge glob of ketchup all over his fries and on to the table... Someone of course, asked him for the salt which he immediately sent spilling all over the table... and so it went... by the time the "carnage" was over, "Ultra Supreme Mega Slop" was a nervous wreak, and the rest of us could not stop our side splitting laughter. I do think this meal scarred him for life.

My other brother had his shining moment too... that good ol' Navigator and Leader of Men, but that will have to wait some other time - for I have to get this huge smirk off my face.

Oyster Creek and the Inn

As of June 6, 2008 at 7:00 AM
Steps: 3,311,209
Miles: 1383.92
Miles to New York: 62.08

For many a summer, summer time was spent in Beach Haven, NJ, where my brothers and I would play in the sand at the beach, swim in the surf, prod the hermit crabs in the puddles the falling tide left along the bay, fish, eat, ride our bikes, play miniature golf, and go to Atlantic City with Uncle Henry and Aunt Hazel and the gang as well as doing whole bunch of other things.

Two other of these activities come immediately to my mind as I virtually walk from Port Republic to Manahawkin along Route 9. Both were special treats and both involved boat rides! One to the Oyster Creek Inn in Leed's Point and the other to the Steward's Root Beer place in Tuckerton.


The Oyster Creek Inn sits right on the Oyster Creek deep into the salt marshes to the west of Beach Haven (and north of Atlantic City). The ride would take us from Beach Haven to Holgate then past the abandoned "Fish Factory" and across the Great Bay and up the creek seemingly in the middle of nowhere.


At the end of an unpaved gravel road off of Route 9, stood the restaurant, a boardwalk-like dock, some dilapidated looking shacks, sheds, some dubious looking cottages, piles of empty oyster shells, and some fishing boats that were always painted a light blue color. The blue paint was the hallmark of the charter boat fleet that sailed from here - their captains always seemed to be successful when it came to finding fish to catch.


We would tie up the boat right in front of the restaurant, take in the sights (and the smells), enjoy a delicious and hearty seafood meal, and then ride home again.

Those, too, were the days. :) I might write more about the Steward's Root Beer place and the Fish Factory some other time if anyone wants me to.

Source of Photos