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| Come April Fools Day we’ll throw open the Paddle Shop doors on Cole Lake to let warm spring breezes blow cobwebs & cares away. If she’s a blizzard, big whoopdeedoo – we’ll open anyway! In honour of our 40th year, we’ll be digging up Squall tales you just might not have heard. To start off, at the end of this hoot is a yarn deserving of a hot cup of tea so I’ll leave it til the end so you can plug in the kettle. Or ignore it completely! |
| Paddlin’ Films, Online/Live Auction, Beer, Baking, Popcorn, Music and more – Sat. March 22 at the Stockey Saturday night – give the Leafs a break and c’mon out to the Stockey. All in support of filling up the new pool with clean Georgian Bay water:) The community auction is online right now at: Auction Post 1 and Auction Post 2. There is something for everyone, including your great aunt Martha. Hope you can come and join us Saturday night – tickets at: 2025 Film Festival Tickets Stockey Centre |
Franklin Challenge – June 22
She ain’t a race folks, rather a community paddle around Franklin Island. Registration opens May 1 limited to 100 paddlers. Hope you can jump on the water with us! Info: 2025 Franklin Challenge
Photo courtesy of Thom Morrissey Photography June 2022.
| What a Mess… We are all thrown into a right royal mess with one dangerous pain in the neck to boot – yup, you all know of what I speak, including the pain. My mind seems to go straight to Jabba the Hutt for some reason. But please know we are truckin’ along at the Squall, with new boats, gear & outdoor clothing sourced from Canada, overseas and yes – some things from the US because there just isn’t a suitable alternative. The latter may be tariffed, but we are committed to absorbing most, if not all fees so you don’t have to. All we ask is you think of us next time you are in the market for something to get you outside and on the water. After 40 years we are almost local now and have local, loyal staff who will welcome you with a smile and a cup of tea if you ask really nicely. |
Timmies,Tandems,Timmins & Towing on a Winter’s Night
Can’t make this stuff up folks! It was long ago, so we can safely tell the story of ‘derring-do’ on the back of skidoos – we wish it had been ‘derring-don’t’! Ah, life in Carling Township.
Way past midnight on a cold winter night, Charly our fearless dog, woke us up with his signature barking. Kathy ordered him to lie down and get back to sleep right quick! Little did we know that as we were drifting back under the covers… three young village men up to no good had braved the dark and cold to snowmobile through the woods to White Squall. They hid their machines in trees across our road, pondering their next move. Had we listened to Charly, a good story would have been cut short.
They apparently stumbled over to a rack of sea kayaks and hauled off three 22 foot long tandems, dragging them back and tying them to the back of their snowmobiles. Now these are 90 pounders and not for the faint of heart or muscle, so I guess we have to applaud the industry of today’s youth. Our poor boats were then dragged back through the bush to what’s known as the CIL Lands – thousands of acres of pretty much nothing. Clearly these bandits were not aware of our “no towing” policy. They hid them under some small trees – hoping to flog ’em on Kijiji.
How did we sort this out? The following morning, Kathy noticed mysterious footprints up by the road. “Ah, it’s nothin’ Kath” I said with authority. My life’s path has been to ignore, deflect and wait til I have to act because something stares me in the face I sadly don’t have a choice. A few days later, Tim gets a phone call from a fellow in Timmins who says we might want to check our stock. Turns out he’s been chatting online with someone trying to sell a tandem kayak for little money and knowing diddly-squat about what they were selling.
A friend alerted him to our kayak business, and he had the decency to call. About then, a penny stirred in the fog of my brain. Thanking him profusely we tore out of the house to investigate. With a collective “oh shit”, there was the empty rack where our poor boats had been sitting out the winter. After strong coffee and donning my lone ranger toque, I struck out, following the desperado’s tracks til they met up with another path. I lost the trail, in the dust…er snow. Time to call in adults…the OPP. The Timmins fellow sent them online photos and turns out they can access imbedded GPS co-ordinates from the pics – a little hint to any other nitwits out there ! That very night, in a raging snowstorm, Kathy got a call from an out-of-breath constable. They found one of our boats so please come and get it!
In a blizzard, Kathy and I jumped in the truck and headed to the CIL gate north of town to find three constables waiting, huddled in the storm, sipping Tim Horton’s. They had been searching the bush by snowmobile and struck pay dirt. Towing it back out to the roadhead they were now enjoying a well-deserved break. It was dark, cold and snowing with one lonely light high up on a hydro pole. When I allowed that this must be pretty tough work, one of them said “heck no, this is fun!” A Friday night with no drug busts, no guns, nobody hurt – just hot coffee, snowmobiles and lost treasure. A noble quest if ever there was one!
Under dim lamplight in the blowing snow, I saw them quietly bow their heads. I went closer to see if these guys were summoning some inner strength. Nope…they were rolling up their rims! Joining in, I shone my headlamp for them and watched as once again, ‘ol Timmy encouraged them to ‘please play again’. With that out of the way, they roared off into the night in search of the last two boats, leaving us to load up and head home.
Later that night they called. Another boat found, please meet them at a local beach. Friend Kevin came out from town to help, bringing a re-supply of donuts and coffee for the boys. The beach road was a dead end with no lighting which is a key part of the finale. Soon after we arrived, here comes our police partners sledding out of the darkness, towing the second kayak. There was joy on their faces as Kevin handed over steaming cups of coffee. The night was dragging on, they were cold and the adventure was starting to wear thin . Another roll of the rim and off they roared to find the last one.
Kevin and I were tying the kayak on the truck when up the road we see head-lights and a pickup cresting the hill towards us. Young guys were in the cab and saw us loading up. A quick 3 point turn and they were out of Dodge. Who the hell at this hour of the night would drive down here? We both knew right away. I half-joked things might get more interesting. We now had one of their boats (oops, I mean our boat) and I was mighty glad to have Kevin along, completely young, almost awake and strong.
Where the beach road meets the main road, we could see in the snow the tire tracks of the boneheads, but instead of heading to the highway, they turned down another dead-end lane. Hah – got ‘em! Quickly phoning 911, we convinced the operator to please track down our OPP snowmobiling friends. They soon radioed back and were on their way. But before they got there, dumb, dumber and duckarse came back out of the dead-end road and stopped right in front of our truck. I was dumbfounded…!
I went over with all the swagger I could muster, knowing Kevin was right behind me. Their window rolled down with a cloud of cigarette smoke and a baleful face staring at me so in my toughest Carling Township manner, I stared back. After a pregnant pause, I asked if they knew what was going on? A slurred no – then he says “You from White Squall? ” Ummm – what an odd conversation! Realizing finally who we were and that the jig was up, they then take off towards the beach instead of heading out to the highway. A minute later, three cruisers pull up and we pointed “they went thataway!” I think Kevin’s words were something like; “Tim, I usually don’t believe you when you tell stories like this, but this time I’m here!” The lads were apprehended shortly thereafter.
The next day, the OPP discovered the third kayak had been sold earlier to a fellow in Toronto and that same afternoon, constables drove to the city and seized it – another fun gig with a Timmie’s thrown in I bet. We picked it up in Parry Sound the following morning and our orphans were finally all back in their winter beds with charges rightfully laid. After we got over our anger at the audacity of all this, we decided at the least – everything was sourced locally, including the thiefs. A real ‘stretcher’ as Huck Finn would say. Or like tea from China – ‘far fetched’, but all true so I’ll just leave it there…tim
