CHAPLEAU
RIVER CAMP
Back in the early 60’s and on into the late 80’s, my
friends and I would take yearly fishing trips into the north
of Ontario. This was in, what is called, the Algoma
District. These trips would usually be in early June. The
bugs were horrible but the fishing great. These trips weren’t
just for fishing. It was a way for us to just get away from
the daily
grind and cut loose. There were never any women along so
we didn’t really have to worry about things like bathing
(water was like ice) and acting like adults. I never was
very good at that anyway. Our camps would get in pretty
rough shape and when we needed a clean dish we would wash
one. Sometimes. I would usually do all the cooking and fish
cleaning. Most men are pretty lousy cooks and I figured it
was the best job in camp as everything was cooked the way I
liked it. My friends had a talent for filleting fish with
the bones in that I couldn’t take. Hence, I cleaned the
fish! I always thought they did it that way just so I would
do all the fish cleaning too.
We would normally fly out of Chapleau, Foleyet, White
River, Hawks Junction or Wawa, Ontario. These small towns
owed their existence to mining, hunting and fishing. The
hunting was usually bear, moose and waterfowl. Fishing was
for Walleye and Northern Pike. There is a lot of trapping
done up there also. There were many trappers’ cabins
scattered in the woods. I am not sure but I think that they
allow one trapper per township or something like that. Most
of the larger lakes have an old trappers cabin somewhere.
Those things are rough and small!! I was not into detecting
at that time and I think of all the goodies that those camps
must hold
At that time, a spring bear license was only 10 dollars,
with a fishing license. We didn’t fool with them but there
were plenty of them up around. Had to protect your gear and
food. We were young and didn’t have much money but by
pooling our money, we were able to go. I might have
mentioned before but our first fly-in trip was to Oswald
Lake and it cost us 43 dollars per man for the week!! Our
food came to about 13 dollars for the week per. This
included flying in, flying out, the camp (tent or cabin) and
the boat with 10 gal of gas per man!! We had to save our
money up for that trip too!!
This story is about a trip I took to the fishing camp on
the Chapleau River. We flew out of either Foleyet or
Chapleau. Can’t remember which now. My friends on this
trip were my old canoeing buddy Jay, Dale and his son Mike.
I worked with Jay and Dale and Mike was about 15 at the
time. He had made about 4 trips with us and was a great kid.
Little sassy at times but I like that. Well I like learning
the lad to respect his elders a bit. Gotta teach respect
some times. :0)
The Chapleau River camp was on a wide spot on the river.
It is sorta like a flowing lake. I don’t remember the
exact distances but from the rapids entering the, for lack
of a better term, lake, to the rapids leaving. It was about
4 or 5 miles probably less. Our camp was at the widest spot
and was about a hundred or a hundred and fifty yards wide
maybe a bit less. I figure the water was about 30 ft deep at
its deepest. There was a current of maybe two mph. Not bad.
Camp was about midway between the two large rapids. No canoe
trips on those suckers.
The area around the lake was all bedrock. Going up stream
near the rapids were cliffs. About 60 ft high. Interesting
in the evening, because the bats would come out of the
crannies and dive bomb us! The other side was fairly marshy,
for the most part. Most of the trees were Cedar and Pine
with heavy underbrush, which was almost impossible to walk
in.
Our camp was a rough one. One damn beat up old tent! No
screens and holes you could throw a dang goat through. I
will save that camp for another story. We were the last ones
to use that tent as they were going to build a cabin the
week we left. Shore needed one!!
I have to apologize if I repeat myself, in these stories.
Dang if I am gonna go back and read what I already said.
Maybe you will catch me in a lie but I will plead Old age!!
We made a habit of rotating partners so we wouldn’t
kill each other. Seems like I was the one most often
threatened! This afternoon I was fishing with Mike. Good
partner but needed livening up, on occasion. We decided to
troll upstream to the rapids and do a little casting in the
fast water. Walleye were spawning and loved it at the base
of the falls. The fish weren’t usually large in these
lakes but we sure caught a lot of them. Two or three lbs
were the norm. We worked our way up and then decided to cut
across the river to a little eddy behind a big boulder, near
the brush. As I said, the far shore was marshy in places.
Well, we were a setting there casting and just shooting the
bull. I looked over to the shore side of the boat and there
was a little Beaver, just a floating there. About three feet
from the boat. I had never seen one that small! I had never
known one to come that close to a boat! He must have been
miscombombulated! He was just a looking at us, almost like
he was tame.
This would probably be a good place to say a few things
about Mike. At that time he was a pretty big kid. 5ft 10 and
maybe 170 or so. He was a nature boy. Watched me like a hawk
to make sure I didn’t hurt the environment. Always on my
case about something and of course, I would do things to set
him off. It was a lot of fun because he thought he could out
wit me. Poor baby! :0) Being a young lad, he was gullible as
hell and I was always looking for an opening. Here was an
opening.
I had a feeling that the baby Beaver was not alone but
mama was not in sight. This little guy was no larger than a
small rat. Cute as hell. I said,"Hey Mike! Look at that
little guy! Looks tame!" Now how the heck could the
thing be tame? We were probably 40 miles from the nearest
dirt track! Well, he went all mushy and girly on me and
started gushing about how cute it was and that it must be an
orphan. Right! Duh!
I told him that it probably was an orphan and he ought to
pick it up. Now I didn’t figure the thing would do much
more than bite half his finger off. I don’t guess I have
to mention that a Beaver has big teeth! Seems like a young
lad like that would think about that but I guess he wasn’t
really old enough for his brain to have taken root yet!
He leaned down there and reached for the little guy, all
the while watching me out of the corner of his eye. For
what, I couldn’t guess, as I figured he should be looking
where he was a reaching, considering what he was a reaching
for. He must have gotten some encouragement from my smile
cuz he went for the little feller. Course he didn’t know I
was smiling because I had already envisioned the Beaver
going nuts when he latched on to him. I have had a tame
rabbit bite me and kick the crap out of me with his back
feet and could only imagine what a damn critter would do
that eats trees!!
Well, he was a reaching down there and about to get his
darned hand eaten off and the dangest commotion you ever
heard busted out, right there in the thicker brush.
Time for a Beaver lesson. Them critters are BIG. They are
about 4 ft long, with a one-foot tail! They weigh about 60
lbs! If you don’t believe that, look it up on the web. I
just did!! Prehistoric Beaver were 7ft 6in long!! They aren’t
big if you are talking about a T-rex but talking about a
rat, they are BIG. When they are upset they seem to swoll
all up like a toady frog. (Which we will get to later) :0)
that mama came a lunging out of the brush and to tell the
truth, I have no idea if she made a noise. As I remember it,
there was bit of a squalling. Don’t know if it was the
baby, the mama or Mike. Could have been a blend but I do
know that Mike was contributing a bit. He came a lunging
back and a thrashing. I was a laughing my butt off. Sorta
funny from my position. Didn’t really want him to fall in
the water and get in the current but figured I could live
with it if it were to happen. :0) Old nature boy Mike, Mike
who wouldn’t let me throw the fish guts in the woods, Mike
who don’t go for peeing on a campfire as it is polluting
the environment, or was it the air? Heck, he was fussy as to
where we dug the slit trench. Ought to be near camp, right??
Well, old Mike takes up a canoe paddle and fixes to swat
that old mama over the head. Problem was she was still a bit
tiffed and was trying to board ship!! She was a lunging and
he was a getting, all the while yellin for me to help! He
was trying to swat and retreat at the same time and I was in
more danger from that damn paddle than the damn beaver!! I
told the boy that the old beaver was one of mother nature’s
children and we were in her temple so we should not hurt the
poor thing. I was a crawling on the motor about this time,
which is just about as far as I could go without taking a
swat at that critter myself.
She finally plopped back in the water and with a swat of
her tail, dove. Well, I was sorta glad that Mike had dropped
the canoe paddle as when I saw the look in his eye, I picked
it up. I thought I was gonna have to swat the boy like he
wanted to, the beaver. The lad had developed an attitude of
sorts. I was still laughing a bit but he wasn’t. He said I
had done it on purpose. Heck I didn’t know mama beaver was
there. Figured she was around somewhere but couldn’t think
past the little beaver chawing on his finger. Never got to
see that either!
That evening, after dinner, we were sitting at the
campfire. We all had a good laugh at Mikes expense and he
took it pretty well by then. We got to jawing about how
beautiful it was at night in the north woods. That night was
perfect. Not a cloud in the sky! The sky was full of stars!
Very still and about 75 degrees or so. As we sat there,
staring at the embers making their way to the stars, Mike
said," Listen to the frogs, across the water." I
told him they were toads a spawning. It sounded like there
were hundreds of them on the far shore, singing to their
mates.
I explained a little Toadology to the boy. I might have
flunked every course I ever took in school but I loved
nature and had a fair knowledge about the life of critters.
While others were wasting their time in school, I was
skipping and out in the swamps learning Toadology and
Snakeology, Beaverology and lizardology. Useful things that
would keep me out of the problems the lad had been in today.
In fact the day wasn’t over yet and he still had lessons
in Toadology to learn.
On a warm quiet night in the spring, toads by the
hundreds will head for still, shallow water to spawn. This
place has to have a lot of weeds or brush for the female to
adhere the eggs to. Sometimes they will be all over the
place. Toads don’t really have what we would call, an
interesting sex life. They will mass together in huge groups
and call for mates. The females, all swollen with eggs, will
just set there waiting for the males. Those males, who are
usually smaller, have just one thing in mind. Grabbin that
female and squeezing the eggs out of her. The way he does
this is by sliding up on her back and grasping her, just
behind the forelegs and holding on. Thing is, he holds on
tight. I have read that there have been cases where fish
have been in the shallows and been grabbed by mistake over
the gills and suffocated. Now that will give you an idea as
to how tight those suckers can grasp! Now those male toads
will grab any dang thing they can get those front legs
around. I have seen them stacked three and sometimes four
high! Course only one female. Guess them toads are a lot
like Texicans. Don’t specially care what they are huggin,
as long as they are huggin something! As she lays the eggs
and deposits them on some underwater twig the male covers
them with sperm, which fertilizes them. The water can be
just full of sperm covered eggs! Millions of them!!
In my youth I have watched this many times in the spring.
This generally happens at night. I have reached down and
slid my hand in front of a male and it is pretty startling
how strong they are when the grab your hand! Scares you the
first time it happens!
Now we were talking about the toads and Nature boy was
arguing that they were frogs. I know my Toadology and knew
they were toads by their higher pitched call. Finally a idea
started forming in my head. Boy needed a learning again. :0)
I told him to grab a flashlight and we would go across
and he could see for himself. I winked at his daddy. The boy
was all for it. Aaaah! I just love the arrogance of
youth! He grabbed a flashlight and down to the boat we went.
Jay and Dale opted to stay and enjoy the night by the
campfire. These were nice and stable 14 ft boats and I had a
5 hp motor on it. It was such a beautiful night it seemed a
shame to break the peace. It was about to be busted all
right!!
We putted slowly across the river. The toads were just a
singing away. It was so quiet. I told the boy to take a seat
cushion and lay it on the bow so he could lie on his chest
and get a good look. He got all stretched out there with the
flashlight in his left hand and on his chest, looking over
the bow. His face was a foot or two above the water!
Perfect!! Told him to watch out for the Beaver and he called
me a name his daddy would have been upset with. I did it to
tense him up a bit.
Well we were nearing the brush and I brought the boat to
a creep. They were still singing but that was about to stop
as soon as we spooked them. We were whispering now. He then
said," You are right! There are toads all over the
place! Hundreds of them! Man there must be a billion
eggs!" I said," Any Beavers?" He looked back
and told me to go to hell but I had planted the seed a
little deeper because as he looked back at the toads, he
looked around a little more carefully. Heck, I could have
mentioned the snakes that love to feed on the toads, couldn’t
I? I didn’t want to spook him too bad, as I had a plan. I
was working this plan out as things were developing, but I
knew one of us were gonna be pissed!
Now what I wanted to do is scare the boy a bit when the
toad latched on his hand. I had omitted that part as I was
giving him a Toadology lesson, I guess.
The water was about a foot or two deep and full of brush.
Short stuff that just cleared the water in most places. The
boat was just nosing into it and stern was out in the
gentile current. I was standing up and watching the kid. He
was sprawled out on his stomach. Lying on the cushion. I
told him to reach out and grab one of those little buggers
for me, as I wanted to use them for bait the next day. He
was a little tentative but he reached out toward that black
water. Flashlight in his left hand and right one for the
toad. Well I couldn’t see very well but I can imagine what
happened. He reached out and slid his hand around that toad
and the toad must have thought he was a swold up girl toad
and clamped down on the lads hand!! Must have been a strong
one, intent on squeezing eggs out of nature boys’ hand!!
HAHAHA
Now when that toad clamped down on his hand the boy
reacted a bit. He about went nuts!! HAHAHAH He swung the
damn toad hand, his right, back and the damn toad almost hit
me in the face! Problem was, he was stretched so dang far
out over the bow of the boat, he was a mite unstable. Now
physics is one of those classes I flunked but I do know that
if you get an unstable mass all stretched out over a bow of
a boat and then spin to the right to throw a damn toad in
your guides face, something just might happen. It did. The
boy rolled right in the drink! When he hit that water he
damn near come unglued! I was a laughing and the boat
started drifting off as I was occupied trying not to pee my
britches. The light was in the water, still lit. I was
screaming, "Look out for the toads!! Don’t let them
get you!! I think I saw a beaver!! Man those were some funky
looking eggs! Don’t get them in your eyes!" That didn’t
really help things from his point of view, I guess. He was
yelling and spitting and sputtering. I couldn’t even see
him, as it was so dark over there. I could see a spot of
light where it lay in a foot or so of toad filled water.
I was lying in the bottom of that boat laughing, which
had now drifted 50 ft or so downstream. Every time I would
try to get up and go help him I would start laughing and be
of no use to the poor guy. He was still going nuts over
there. I could still hear the yellin and splashing!
Everything that touched him was a damn clutching toad or a
ticked off beaver mama in his deranged mind. Dang, I wish I
had thought of the snakes at the time. Wouldn’t have had
to bother taking him back to Michigan.
Finally I collected myself enough to start the motor and
head back to him. Wasn’t hard to find, as he was still a
bellering like a dang old sissy. Must have affected his mind
a bit as, even though we were in the wilds of Canada, he was
screaming something about the Sun and the Beach. Something
like that anyway. The darned kid started chucking something
at me. I figured they must be rocks, as I couldn’t see him
picking up any more toads for a while! I putted up to his
location when he settled down a mite and edged the boat up
to shore. He jumped in and proceeded to act like a spoiled
little kid. He seemed to blame me for his misfortune! Heck,
I was a rescuing him! Wasn’t I the one that almost got
toad slapped? I was right about the toads too but he failed
to acknowledge that, very important point too. I mentioned
that his voice sounded funny and that he must have swallowed
some of that toad stuff. Sorta gurgly like! Now I thought
that was funny and was just trying to cheer the lad up but I
don’t think it helped. If I don’t misremember, there was
a little gagging going on too! He was still screaming at me.
I putted over to the flashlight, which was still lit and
asked him to reach down for it. Well, upshot is, we got it
the next morning. His dad and Jay were waiting at the camp
and as it was so still and quiet, they had a rough idea what
had happened. They heard me laughing and him screaming and
figured the lad had learned a little Toadology!!
There were some more interesting things that happened on
that trip, so I will save them for another story. Don’t want to make
these things too long and bore you folks!! ----RO
royalo@bigfoot.com |
