by Mike Bruce

I am not a water baby . . . but I love canoeing. In the late 70s, I braved the waters of Lake Waseosa and instructor Dave Anderson’s critical eye to earn my Bronze Medallion. That was required to attend Camp White Pine (where Meatballs was filmed). I received my Canoe Instructor’s License the following spring, and the next summer, Dave and I worked the waterfront to bring Clarence and Clarabel to life.

          In the true spirit of Huronda, we wanted to introduce characters that would bring some magic to the canoe docks. We flipped two canoes and found that we could swim underneath holding on to the middle thwart. It was a bonus that when we spoke inside that upside-down resonating chamber, our voices were not only amplified, but imbued with a rather aqueous quality that echoed across the water. Canoe language.

          The first day of waterfront, Clarence and Clarabel were ready on the far shoreline with us submarined beneath them, while a drama partner herded a group of campers and staff onto the docks. Our canoe friends could see and maneuver their way across the shallows thanks to the stylish eyes that had been fashioned at the Craft Shop. Clarabel would bat her big curly eyelashes at Clarence on their way over to the canoe docks to meet their new charges.

          Conversations between the dock people and canoe creatures were always hilarious until Clarence and/or Clarabel started shivering. That was when they floated away, and the gang would hop in their canoes to join them on the lake.

          The name Clarence honoured a famous local canoe maker I met in 1975 on one of my highly valued days off. I’d heard about Clarence Bouges while looking into cedar strip canoes being built in the Huntsville area. On arriving at his backwoods cabin with my mother, Clarence was keen to talk about his craft. He showed me an 8-foot beauty he’d built from scratch that he’d used for trapping in his younger days.

          “Here. Why don’t you pick this up and try it out on the marsh?”

          I reached down to grab the gunnel and hand-carved thwart to show off my newly acquired portaging skills.

          “It ain’t that heavy, son. Try one hand.”

          I might have bought that beautiful one-of-a-kind canoe had my camp counselor wages been a touch higher. Instead, I returned to camp with a beautiful cherry paddle with which I practiced my skills over the years. Sadly, as time took its toll, the shaft developed a wicked warp. Several summers later, after joining the waterfront area staff, I turned it into a trophy paddle awarded to the ‘Most Improved Canoeist’ at the end of each camp session. The tradition continued for years. The paddle hangs in an honoured spot on one of the Dining Hall walls to this day.

          Clarence and Clarabel live happily ever after as one of my fondest Huronda memories – on a special shelf in my kitchen, where Dave Anderson’s beautiful H-award carvings reside!!