The Silver Swan

The Silver Swan

by Marilyn Edwards Crocker

Near the shore of the lake the battered old aluminum canoe is now overturned and resting on its laurels, in this case two wooden saw horses.  It has not left this place of rest for several years.  But as a canoe it has had a glorious history in which it was much admired and gave great pleasure to the family.

It began its life as one of the first aluminum canoes made immediately after WWII by Eaton’s Department Store in Canada.  Unlike today’s canoes, it was built in sections with rivets holding the sections together.  It was purchased by my granddad Roy Crocker and proudly brought to Kahshe Lake where he named it The Silver Swan.   My father, then a young man in his twenties, was amused by the naming of the canoe, and renamed it the Tin-oe.  He painted this new name on the bow of the canoe with water paints.  When Granddad saw that his beloved canoe had been defaced with this derogatory name he was quite angry.  He did not appreciate the humor.  He was greatly relieved when washing off the paint restored the beauty of the Silver Swan.

  

It spent many years at Bona Vista, the Crocker family cottage, but eventually became Dad’s canoe when Granddad Crocker died.   The Silver Swan was paddled to its new home where it was pulled up on the beach at our family’s cottage.   For many years my parents enjoyed early morning paddles around the island across from our point.  At this hour the sunlight sparkled on the water, which was at its calmest point in the day, and Great Blue Herons could be spotted fishing in the coves.  Mom would gather flowers from the lily pads which she would later float in bowls on tables on the screened-in porch.  Dad paddled Mom on romantic evening paddles in the moonlight, with her sitting on the floor in the middle of the canoe reclining on a seat called a lazy-back.

All of the seven kids in our family learned their canoeing skills in The Silver Swan.  We were educated in the proper fit of a paddle for your height, how to hold the paddle, various strokes, how to steer in the stern position, and safety on the water.  It was our watercraft on many canoeing excursions around our lake and in wilderness lakes further north in Algonquin Provincial Park where we went on canoe trip adventures.  There the Silver Swan had to be carried on strong shoulders on the many portages between lakes. 

Back on our Kahshe Lake it was also a source of great fun when we enjoyed an afternoon of swimming in the cove off our point.  We would turn it over in the water and go under it bobbing up into the trapped air pockets between the seats to breathe.  Sounds we made like the call of the loon under the canoe were strangely amplified, much to our delight.  

We would also entertain ourselves with a rather dangerous game with the canoe called gunnelling.  Two of us would get into the floating canoe, each take an end of the canoe, and then face each other.  With our hands holding on to the gunwhales to maintain our balance, we would then step up and carefully place our feet onto the gunwhales.  With bare feet gripping the gunwhales on the two sides of the canoe we would let go with our hands and then stand up.  By bending our knees we then began to bounce the canoe.  The object was to unbalance the other person causing them to fall into the lake and for you to be the last one still in the canoe.  Because of the unpredictable outcome and hint of danger, gunnelling was quite thrilling.  I was never hurt during this activity, but recently sister Sue informed me that she thinks her crooked nose was a result of her falling and hitting her face on the gunwhales during one of our childhood competitions.

At some point we began to notice that other canoes of newer construction handled much better than The Silver Swan.   It was quite heavy and it took much more effort to paddle.  This fact was quite evident to sister Phyl.  As a teenager she had the misfortune of using the not-so-graceful swan in a Triathalon of swimming, running, and canoeing on the lake.   She put in a dismal performance on the canoeing leg of the race handicapped by the Silver Swan and an inexperienced paddler partner. 

Mom and Dad, when in their 70’s, also experienced the handicap of paddling the not-so-graceful swan.  On a canoe trip down the lake with a group of friends and family they had difficulty keeping up with the other canoes.  On the return trip the wind was in their faces. They struggled with the wind and waves sapping their energy.  Everyone else made it back to the starting point well before they did.  The group on land stood on the dock watching Mom and Dad battle on.  Everyone talked about how amazing they were making headway with those horrible conditions, but no one thought to get a boat to go rescue them and tow them in.   It wasn’t just the Silver Swan that let them down that day.

  

As the Silver Swan aged it began to leak.  Loosening rivets created spaces for the water to enter. We attempted through the years to seal up the leaks, but it was a never-ending battle.  Sue and a friend barely made it back to the cottage one night when the canoe began to fill with water.   After having a bit too much wine out on the water they hadn’t noticed the seeping water until they were in rather dangerous straits. 

We are not sure if The Silver Swan is still seaworthy since it has not been in the water for several years.  Perhaps the last attempts to patch the leaks would still hold.  But, as we have gotten older it seems awfully heavy to lug down to the shore to launch.  Many of us have brought kayaks to the lake.  We love the fact that they are relatively lightweight and so maneuverable.  This all seems rather disloyal to The Silver Swan as she rests upside down on the sawhorses near the shore listening to the waves.