The Word - Vol 75

Lake Life 

Pinch me, I must be dreaming! Picture this, I’m sitting by the lake on a sunny, blue-sky day, the water like glass and there is the call of a loon off in the distance. This edition of The Word is being penned while sitting on the shores of Green Lake in Beautiful British Columbia.

I say I must be dreaming because as a kid growing up in the Dunbar neighbourhood of Vancouver, that’s exactly what it was, a distant dream. Summertime in the days of my youth meant heading out to the backyard and taking my bicycle apart and putting it back together again or throwing a tennis ball against the front steps of the house, catching it, and then repeating for hours on end. Or it was walking from Dunbar to Kerrisdale on a hot city day for an “Awful Awful” at Mary’s Confectionery. I think that’s what the frozen concoction in a paper cup was called. And it was anything but awful. I can hear the small violins being pulled out and played while I’m telling you this, and I know I wasn’t the only kid in the city who dreamed of boats and fishing and swimming in some faraway lake. I’m sure some kids were living the dream, I just didn’t know any. 

I had heard a lot of stories of lake life from my Dad. His Dad was a chauffeur for a wealthy family in Winnipeg. During the fall, winter, and spring my Grandfather would chauffeur the family around in their fancy cars. In the summer he would tend to the fleet of beautiful wooden yachts the family owned and sail them around Lake of the Woods near Kenora. The family owned an Island there, and my Dad would help Grandpa with the chores while staying in quarters above the boats in the boathouse. My Dad loved his days at the lake, and when he passed, we scattered his ashes off the beach of the Island where he had spent so many summers.

So, lake life was hidden there in my heart, from all the stories my Dad would tell about his years in Kenora. The closest I got was trips to Bowen Island, where my best friend in elementary school, Rod Clark had grandparents who owned a quaint little cabin in the woods. A few times I was fortunate enough to be invited to go along with Rod’s Mom, Dad, and brother John. I seem to remember every time we would wait for the Bowen Island Ferry at Horseshoe Bay, the Clark’s family cat would decide that was the moment to empty the contents of its stomach in the back of the station wagon. On a hot summer day, that’s an aroma that will stay with you for the rest of your life! 

There were girls in our neighbourhood whose parents would rent a cabin at Crystal Water Beach in Point Roberts, Washington. They would spend the summer there with their Mother while their Dad would commute to work and stay with the family during the weekends. They used to say they had two sets of friends, their friends at home, and summertime friends. And that brings me back to sitting here, at the lake, with the sun and the water and the loons.

We’ve been very blessed to have been able to spend summers at our cottage/cabin at Green Lake, and over the years we’ve developed summertime friends that have grown into full-time friends sharing a common bond, the lake, and all that comes with it. We were warned when our lake visits began that we better have strong livers because “happy hours” were du rigour when it comes to lake life. And oh, were they right. An unwritten rule was, tools down at 4:00, because it was now, “Caesar O-Clock!” 

Every day seemed to be a party day and that included birthday parties, drop-by parties, and just party parties. There were firepit singalongs when word went out to bring your guitar, singing voice, and favourite libation. And there were the family get-togethers that introduced grandchildren to life at the lake, swimming, boating, treasure hunts, chopping wood, deer, foxes, and beavers. There were surprise parties for milestone birthdays, like for our friend Bev Kendy, complete with Burma Shave signs along the road and costumes. Plus, I can’t forget the big surprise party for my 60th that my wife, Jeri, coordinated getting accommodation on the lake for almost 100 people. It is a great life away from the city.

The lake is a “make-your-own-fun kind of place.” Our friends across the lake, Carol and Peter Smith, came up with a brilliant idea. It was an annual celebration on the water that was known as “The Regretta” and was held on the Sunday of the August long weekend. It was a takeoff on a progressive dinner except with costumes and boats. Each participant had to think of a theme for their boat, decorate the boat, and have a costume to match. Some years The Regretta numbered close to a dozen boats and would start off at the far end of the lake with snacks and beverages, stopping at participants' homes along the way culminating at the Smith’s for a party filled with music and dinner. The Regretta would take us the whole day to complete, and it was something that we all looked forward to, with some people starting their boat decoration planning early in the spring. 

The complexion of the lake has changed over the years, with more full-time residents, larger year-round homes, and bigger boats. This year I read on the Green Lake Facebook page that someone counted 46 Pontoon boats on the lake and planned a flotilla on the August long weekend. Maybe they should call it the Regretta? 

Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same. 

Till next week…
Wayne

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