The Nightmare on Missinaibi Lake

This story, Nightmare on Missinaibi, first appeared within the August 1972 subject.

DARKNESS HAD FALLEN on the rugged Missinaibi Lake space of northern Ontario by the point we had unloaded the van and arrange camp on the lake’s edge. The day was Thursday, September 30, 1971. 

My companion, Gerald L. Julius of Massillon, Ohio, and I have been vacationing from our jobs on the Ashland Oil & Refinery Co. of Canton, Ohio. Reviews of pictographs—American Indian image writing—had attracted us to Missinaibi’s shores. Our purpose was to get 16 mm. shade footage of the pictographs for inclusion in an Ontario nature and wildlife movie that I used to be making.

Though our households generally accompanied us on filming journeys, college necessities had saved Jerry’s spouse and two daughters and my spouse and three younger women at dwelling.

Touring in primitive areas was a well-known expertise to me. For the previous 22 of my 42 years, holidays and every other spare time I might wangle away from the day by day grind have been invested within the open air.

Within the early years after I’d spent a hitch within the U.S. Marine Corps, my curiosity in searching massive sport had led me into distant areas of Canada and the West. One among my most memorable journeys was a prolonged jaguar hunt into the jungles of Brazil with the late Al Georg, outside author and handgun fanatic. Nevertheless, throughout my current backcountry journeys my weapons had gathered mud at dwelling whereas I toted a digicam and started a brand new avocation, the filming of wildlife and nature scenes. 

Our Missinaibi Lake enterprise was Jerry’s first style of actual wilderness, however, at age 28, he was an outdated hand at tenting. As a youth he had climbed to Eagle rank within the Boy Scouts, and he was nonetheless lively in Scouting. Jerry’s love of nature surpassed that of any particular person I’ve ever recognized. He was a photographer in his personal proper and had paddled the canoe and assisted me with the large digicam chores throughout the current filming of an Ohio nature film on the Ohio River and a few of its feeders. 

Earlier that day, we had stopped briefly on the Ontario Division of Lands and Forests workplace at Chapleau, 55 miles south of Missinaibi Lake, to choose up maps. There we discovered that though moose season was about to open in that a part of the province, the Missinaibi Lake space can be closed to searching. With the realm to ourselves, we would have a possibility to movie some wildlife in addition to the pictographs. 

The intense round glow of our gasoline lantern highlighted tracks of bear, moose, and wolves within the sand close to our tent as we ate a midnight meal earlier than delivering. Jerry and I felt at peace in Missinaibi’s wild and delightful setting, and we talked eagerly of discoveries that the following day may deliver. We had no premonitions of hazard. But earlier than the tip of the following day, Jerry can be lifeless and I’d be engaged in a life-or-death wrestle to return to civilization. 

We awoke at dawn, Friday October 1, to the sound of rain spattering on canvas. A look outdoors the tent revealed a darkish overcast of clouds that just about dragged on the encompassing hills. Since we had eaten late the earlier night time, we determined to skip breakfast in favor of a quick scouting journey on the lake. We unloaded my 17-foot aluminum canoe from the van, carried it to the lake, and clamped a six-horsepower outboard to its sq. stern. The day was too darkish for digicam work, so except for life cushions and paddles, we took with us solely maps and binoculars. 

Our morning canoe run was to be solely a fast have a look at promising pictograph places on the principle arm of Missinaibi. In our eagerness to get out on the lake, we forgot our fundamental survival gear, which was nonetheless packed within the van. Forgotten additionally was my normal observe of leaving below the windshield wiper of the van a be aware explaining who we have been, the place we had gone, and after we anticipated to return. 

As we left the cove close to our campsite and entered the waters of the principle lake, I looked for a landmark to assist our return. On the slender entrance to the cove stood a gnarled, wind-battered fir tree, a perfect marker. 

We had no concept the place we might discover the pictographs, so we cruised southwestward alongside the south shoreline and scanned the rocks carefully. After touring about 10 miles we got here to the mouth of the Whitefish River. At that time, Jerry mentioned, “Once you movie from the canoe this week, you gained’t have the ability to run the outboard too. Let me deal with the motor now so I can see the way it works.”

We went ashore, and Jerry took over the motor whereas I sat within the bow. Then we continued on down the lake. About 14 miles southwest of our camp we noticed a excessive rocky cliff jutting into the half-mile-wide lake. The cliff appeared like a logical place to search for the pictographs. In response to our map, we have been taking a look at Fairy Point, on the junction of Baltic Bay and the lake’s most important arm. 

Once we first sighted Fairy Level the climate was nonetheless closely overcast and wet. A lightweight breeze stirred up slightly chop of waves about three to 5 inches excessive. It was nothing to be involved about, so we crossed the lake to have a detailed have a look at Fairy Level. 

We had approached to inside about 50 ft of the rocks when Jerry noticed a pictograph and pointed it out to me. At first I might see solely diverse and colourful moss, lichens, and ore outcroppings. Then I noticed the drawing, a stick determine of a person. As we drifted slowly alongside the face of the rock wall, drawing after drawing turned seen. 

For a number of minutes we rocked gently alongside, fully absorbed in anticipating pictographs. Our backs have been towards the southwest, the course of the prevailing wind, when catastrophe struck. 

My first indication of hazard got here when a savage gust of wind hit us broad aspect. Its power snapped some lifeless limbs from timber that grew on prime of the cliff. The wind was adopted immediately by a wave three to 4 ft excessive. And whereas we have been wallowing within the trough of that wave, an even bigger one slammed into us broadside. 

The canoe capsized.

We had spilled at a distant, uncovered spot on the lake. The wind and waves that hit us had greater than 10 miles of open water over which to construct power, and Missinaibi’s canyonlike environment had funneled the storm immediately upon Fairy Level. Even when we had seen the storm coming, we couldn’t have run for shore at that time. The rock wall provided no handholds, and the waves may simply have crushed us unconscious on the rocks. 

The seconds that adopted our spill into Missinaibi’s bitterly chilly waters have been confused. Jerry and I surfaced at about the identical second. My paddle had been swept away, however Jerry’s was simply coming by me, so I grabbed it. Our life cushions—Jerry had been sitting on his and mine had been mendacity on the ground of the canoe behind me—hadn’t been tethered to the canoe, they usually had been whisked out of attain by the wind earlier than we might wrestle again to the floor. 

WE WEREN’T carrying life jackets. I had at all times thought-about them a should when canoeing white-water streams, however life cushions, which fulfill the authorized requirement on most waters, had at all times appeared to be safety sufficient for lake journey. 

The overturned canoe acted as if it have been filled with air. It twisted and turned within the thrashing waves and was very tough to carry on to. When the trapped air lastly escaped from the hull, the canoe settled stern-first and floated in a vertical place with solely six or eight inches of the bow displaying above the water. The burden of the outboard was an excessive amount of for the built-in stern flotation chamber of the canoe. 

We acquired little or no help from the small uncovered a part of the canoe’s bow. Waves by then have been operating 4 to 6 ft excessive and breaking over our heads continually. I wound up straddling the keel of the canoe with my arms hooked over the bow. Jerry was on my left together with the canoe, additionally clinging to the bow. Quickly the six-gallon gasoline can, which was nonetheless tethered to the motor by the gasoline line, floated up out of the canoe, and Jerry tucked it below one arm for added help. I nonetheless held the paddle below one arm. 

Once we capsized, we each have been closely dressed for chilly climate. I used to be carrying hip boots, lengthy underwear, total pants, heavy shirt, lined jacket, hat, gloves, and a two-piece rainsuit. Jerry was dressed equally. As quickly as I went below, my boots crammed with water and slipped off. I advised Jerry that I had misplaced my boots, and he replied that his climbing footwear had given him some bother after we spilled however that they didn’t appear to be weighing him down now. We didn’t attempt to strip, as a result of our garments appeared to be no further burden and I doubt that we might have shed them within the savagely churning waves. 

In minutes the icy water began to take its toll on us. Jerry started to have extreme abdomen pains and cramps. He should have swallowed quite a lot of water after we spilled; I didn’t expertise the identical kind of agonies till about 12 hours later. Our arms quickly turned insensitive, clumsy hooks. Our limbs wouldn’t transfer with out deliberate effort, after which solely in sluggish movement. 

The chilly water additionally took a psychological toll. Though we didn’t panic at any time throughout our ordeal, our considering was generally muddled. Our power dissipated quickly. 

At first we thought that the wind would quickly blow us to shore the place we might refloat the canoe, but it surely was to not be. The Baltic Bay arm of Missinaibi funneled the wind alongside it’s size in order that we drifted parallel to the shore. Additionally, waves breaking alongshore triggered a robust undertow that acted on the submerged stern of the canoe and held us a continuing 50 ft or extra offshore. 

Twice I attempted desperately to swim down and detach the motor, however within the chilly water I couldn’t maintain my breath lengthy sufficient even to achieve the motor. 

We had been within the water for about 20 minutes after we drifted away from the steep rock wall at Fairy Level. Jerry determined to attempt to swim to shore. He had gone solely a brief distance by means of the four-to-six-foot waves when he realized that he couldn’t make it. He began to return to the canoe, so I swam out and prolonged the paddle to him. He grabbed it, and I pulled him again to the canoe. 

AFTER THE ABORTED swimming try, we clung shivering to the canoe for about one other 40 or 50 minutes. Then the wind started to push us towards a small rocky level. It regarded for certain as if we might be blown to the rocks, however on the final minute the wind and below tow mixed forces to show the canoe apart. We floated previous the rocks. 

“The wind isn’t going to blow us to shore, is it?” Jerry shouted. 

“No, however don’t hand over,” I replied. I sensed that Jerry had misplaced all hope of being drifted to shore. I, too, was very near giving up. 

Jerry advised me then that his arms might not grip the canoe. So I shoved the canoe paddle across the bow and thru the deal with of the gasoline can after which reached round Jerry and grabbed one finish of the paddle with my left hand. In that method I might maintain him tightly to the canoe and likewise extra simply maintain my head above water. 

We floated that method for almost an hour. By then we had drifted north alongside Baltic Bay about three-quarters of a mile and had been within the water for almost two hours. The chilling water had turned Jerry’s face purple, and our our bodies had almost reached the restrict of their endurance. Jerry advised me that he would slightly take his possibilities attempting to swim for shore than die helplessly like this. Our state of affairs regarded hopeless, so I advised him I’d go together with him. 

Communication was always tough. The wind snatched our phrases away, and even with our faces solely inches aside we might barely hear one another. Our jaws have been so chilly that they hung slack. We couldn’t get our lips collectively to kind sounds correctly. Thus, we might set up no particular plan for our try to swim for shore. 

When Jerry indicated that he was able to swim, I launched my grip from one finish of the paddle and unhooked the gas line from the gasoline can, permitting it to drift free. I hoped that we might every maintain on to an finish of the paddle and, with the gasoline can within the center to offer us help, might make it to shore. However earlier than I might swim out from the canoe to hitch Jerry, he started swimming throughout the waves. I grabbed the paddle on each side of the gasoline can deal with and tried to catch as much as him, however the can was so buoyant that the wind saved blowing me farther away. 

Jerry swam strongly for 3 or 4 minutes, then rolled over on his again and floated. I assumed that he was going to make it. He appeared a lot stronger than I used to be, and I used to be satisfied that he would get to shore and I wouldn’t. As I rose on a wave, I noticed him spit water. Then, as he rose to the highest of a wave, he turned face-down. When he dropped into the trough, he sank from sight. 

Jerry was gone. He had made no wrestle, had proven no panic. At that second I imagined that if drowning was like that, it couldn’t be too dangerous. 

Mentally I used to be already in dangerous form from our ordeal. And when Jerry slipped beneath the waves my thoughts actually went haywire. 

“He’s simply taking part in methods on me,” I assumed. “He’s holding his breath and he’ll reappear someplace quickly.” 

I started trying throughout within the waves for him, however whilst I regarded I knew that it was loopy. 

When Jerry drowned I needed to let go of the gasoline can and die with him, however one thing inside wouldn’t let me do it. I saved swimming, and about 20 minutes later I reached shore about 50 ft east of the place Jerry had gone below. 

When my ft hit the shoreline rocks I discovered that I had no management over any of my limbs. My arms, legs, knees, ankles, every part collapsed as if product of rubber, and I needed to lie there on the water’s edge. After I tried to stand up on my arms and knees, my wrists and elbows would give out and I’d bang closely down onto the rocks. The perfect I might do was to achieve ahead, seize a rock, and slide myself up on shore slightly at a time. 

After I lastly managed to tug my self up on shore I discovered that I used to be nonetheless clutching the gasoline can as if my life trusted it. I set the can down on the rocks and handed out. 

I DON’T THINK I used to be out longer than a couple of minutes. After I got here to, I spotted that if I have been to get again to civilization alive I’d must preserve the canoe in sight and get it again to shore. There was little hope of out of doors assist, and I used to be too exhausted and sick to hike by means of 30 or extra miles of rugged bush nation to return to the van. With out meals, footwear, or matches for a warming hearth, I’d have little likelihood to outlive. 

I regarded northward alongside Baltic Bay. Within the distance I might simply make out the bow of the canoe. It floated two or three ft increased now that it was relieved of our weight, and the wind was shifting it alongside a bit sooner, maybe just a bit slower than a person would usually stroll. 

I rose shakily to my ft and, utilizing the canoe paddle for a crutch, pulled myself alongside from tree to tree. I fell many instances and had bother protecting the canoe in sight as a result of lavatory and different bush obstacles prevented me from following the shoreline. 

I had little bother strolling within the bush. I had no footwear on, however my ft have been nonetheless so numb from the chilly water that I felt no ache once I stepped on rocks or sticks. 

After I lastly caught up with the canoe, I regarded down and found that I used to be fully bare. Whereas working my method by means of the bush, attempt ing to meet up with the drifting canoe, I had unconsciously eliminated all my clothes. I finished and compelled myself to relax. I would wish clothes for heat, and my automobile keys have been in a pocket of my trousers, so I retraced my steps for about half a mile and retrieved all my garments. 

I dressed and once more struggled by means of the bush to meet up with the canoe. By then I wasn’t certain if I used to be forward of or behind it. Lastly I noticed it out within the lake and labored my method by means of the bush till I once more was forward of it. I discovered a rocky level that jutted into the lake 15 or 20 ft, and went out on the rocks to attend.

BY THEN the hour was about 3 p.m. The solar was breaking by means of the clouds, the wind was dying down, and the waves have been smaller, about three to 4 ft excessive. I sat down on a rock. 

“I’ll simply sleep right here within the solar a short while,” I assumed. I dozed, however earlier than I fell right into a sound sleep I spotted that it was the mistaken factor to do, so I sat up and waited for the canoe to float close to. 

On shore close by was a dry cedar log about 12 ft lengthy. I made a decision to make use of it as a float once I went after the canoe. Because the canoe got here close to I once more stripped off all my clothes. I had a chunk of twine that had been used as a belt for my rain pants, and I tied one finish of it to the log to make use of as a tow line. 

I feel the toughest factor I had to do this day was to reenter the lake. I eased into the water and, with the log for help, swam to the canoe. Swimming was a lot simpler with out my heavy clothes. 

Tying the twine to the bow of the canoe was tough. My fingers have been numb, and once I did achieve attaching the road a giant wave got here alongside and smashed the bow of the canoe into my groin, driving me underwater and knocking the wind out of me. I assumed I used to be lifeless, however lastly I struggled again to the floor. 

After I had recovered from the blow, I labored my option to the tip of the log and started to tow it to shore. My progress was sluggish and exhausting, however lastly my ft touched backside. After I turned to look, the canoe was nonetheless out within the lake; the twine had snapped. I knew that I needed to swim proper again out to get the canoe or I’d by no means once more have the power or the center for it. 

I rotated, pushed the log into the water and headed out once more. This time I caught my finger by means of the canoe’s bow ring and swam slowly for shore, pulling the half-submerged craft behind me. 

The strict of the canoe started to tug on backside about 15 ft from shore. I labored about two hours attempting to get the water out. First I needed to pry the sunken craft partly out on the rocks. Then I used the paddle to splash out sufficient water in order that I might pull it farther up on shore. The canoe was about half emptied when a giant wave got here alongside and crammed it once more. I needed to begin throughout. After I might attain the motor, I eliminated it from the strict and dragged it up on the rocks. 

At about 5 p.m. I had all of the water out of the canoe. I pushed out into the lake and tried to paddle southwest, again towards Fairy Level. A robust breeze was nonetheless blowing up from the purpose, so I made no headway. Exhausted, I lay down within the canoe to attend for the wind to drop. I instantly fell asleep. 

It was almost darkish once I awoke. The lake had calmed and there was solely a slight breeze. Once more I started paddling towards Fairy Level. It was all I might do to maneuver the paddle by means of the water. I’d paddle for 10 or 20 seconds after which move out. It took me till 9 p.m. simply to make the brief distance to Fairy Level. 

After I’d rounded the purpose, the breeze was at my again. By then I might paddle for a couple of minute at a time earlier than falling exhausted on the underside of the canoe. 

All throughout the night time it rained. The night time was chilly, and I wrapped my rain pants and parka round my ft for heat. Alternately paddling and sleeping, I continued on down the lake. I’d sleep till the canoe blew onto the rocks. Then I’d resume paddling. 

By 1 a.m. Saturday, I started to really feel stronger and will paddle for half an hour or extra at a stretch. I used to be in a position to preserve the canoe headed northeast by means of the night-shrouded lake towards our camp. At a while throughout the night time I crossed the lake and hugged the south shoreline, realizing that if I have been to seek out the tiny cove that held our camp I’d have to remain very near that shore. I regarded carefully at every little bay I handed. 

Lastly I heard a roar of water off to my proper and realized that I used to be passing Whitefish Falls. I had paddled about 4 miles down the lake from Fairy Level. Paradoxically, after all of the water I had swallowed whereas within the water, I turned very thirsty and saved consuming water from the lake as I paddled. 

Between 3 and 4 within the morning, greater than 16 hours after the canoe had capsized, I noticed the gnarled fir tree that marked the cove the place we’d camped. Wearily I paddled as much as the dock and acquired out of the canoe. 

As I walked from the lake towards the van, I sensed one thing mistaken. Our tent was down. I unlocked the van and turned on the headlights. Then I might see that bears had ripped into the tent and had torn and mangled all our gear. Rain had soaked almost every part that the bears had not ruined. At that second, despite the fact that I had discovered my method again to camp and eventual security, I used to be almost overwhelmed by the state of affairs. The bear raid, which I’d have laughed off at every other time, was the straw that just about broke my again. 

Sick, exhausted, and aching throughout, I selected the drier of the 2 sleeping luggage, crawled into the van, and tried to sleep. Then I turned violently unwell and vomited water and blood all through the remainder of the night time. 

At daylight I loaded the canoe onto the van and started driving south towards Chapleau. About 9 miles south of our campsite at Missinaibi I seen a radio antenna displaying above the timber simply off the principle street. I drove onto a small street main into the bush and located a Division of Lands and Forests outpost on the shores of Improper Lake. I roused the one occupant of the outpost and located that he spoke solely French, however I lastly made it clear to him that there had been bother and that I needed to make use of the radio to contact the provincial police at Chapleau. 

The radio was already set on the frequency of the Lands and Forest workplace in Chapleau, so I advised them concerning the accident and requested them to inform the police. I additionally advised them that I wanted medical consideration. They radioed again that I ought to resume driving towards Chapleau and that the police would meet me on the street on their option to the lake. 

About 9:30 a.m. I resumed driving towards Chapleau. On the street I used to be met by Cpl. H. N. Allan and Constable R. M. Morrison. I advised them roughly the place Jerry had drowned and that I had left the gasoline can on the shore about 50 ft east of the spot. They mentioned they might get a ship and search for his physique. 

I continued on to Chapleau, the place I went on to the hospital. From there I referred to as my spouse in Ohio to inform her the grim information and requested her to offer Jerry’s spouse and household solace. 

Cpl. Allan and Constable Morrison visited me at about 10 on Sunday night time. They’d recovered Jerry’s physique at 1:30 p.m. Sunday. He had been present in 50 ft of water, 15 ft from shore and about 55 ft west of the gas-can location. His physique was totally clothed apart from one glove. 

THE OFFICERS mentioned that Jerry’s physique was present in a relaxed place, simply as once I had seen him slip beneath the waves. There was no indication of panic or wrestle, they usually speculated that he was in all probability unconscious earlier than he went below. The lengthy hours of immersion in chilly water and the pressure of swimming totally clothed by means of turbulent waves towards the tantalizingly close to shoreline should have drained the final little bit of endurance from him. 

Upon the officers’ arrival at Missinaibi on Saturday, the lake temperature was discovered to be 40°F. Wind gusts of the quickly advancing storm that had capsized our canoe on Friday had been clocked at about 35 to 40 knots by the Chapleau air base.

This has been a narrative of unexpected incidents, such because the unnoticed method of the storm and the capsizing in entrance of excessive cliffs that prevented us from swimming ashore earlier than the chilly water had weakened us. Our predicament was worsened by the motor-laden, vertically floating canoe that provided little help and wouldn’t be blown or pushed ashore, and by the lack of untethered life cushions and the shortage of life jackets. It was the absence of easy survival objects resembling footwear, waterproof matches, emergency meals, and a compass that pressured me to reenter the lake, once more risking loss of life, to retrieve the canoe as a substitute of climbing out to security. 

These circumstances might need been solely a nuisance at one other time or place, however they killed when woven collectively at Missinaibi Lake on that nightmarish day in October. 

Ours could be the story behind most of the unwitnessed and unsurvived tragedies which have occurred on wilderness waters. I hope that others may keep away from an analogous tragedy.

This textual content has been minimally edited to satisfy up to date requirements.

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