Canoes, International Affairs, & the Warm Heart I’ll Always Remember

Today, David’s father, Bob, passed away. We sit here in silence thinking of him–his laughter, his love, discussions of international affairs, and the countless days of wilderness canoe trips we had the pleasure of spending with him. We’ll write more, a better tribute to everything about Dad. But today a couple pictures. A young Bob on a canoe trip with his father observing the logging at Curtain Falls (Ontario, Canada in the wilderness that is now the Quetico Provincial Park) in 1943. A much more mature Bob, in 2001, on his last long wilderness trip–paddling with a young friend, Nina, and supervising David in the camp-kitchen cooking breakfast.

The Quetico 1943
dad1

Dad Paddling With Nina 2001
dad2

Supervising Breakfast in the Quetico 2001
dad3

Dock Walking

If you’re a boater, do you remember the days before you had a boat?  I do.  We knew we wanted to own a sailboat someday.  We knew we wanted something we could live aboard and sail the world’s oceans.  So like thousands of other dreamers, we spent our fair share of time dock walking.  “Look, there’s a public marina!” back in the days before they were all gated and locked.

If someone were dock walking at Pete’s Harbor yesterday evening, this is what they’d have seen near Mahdee:

David carrying groceries down to the boat–
groceries

The view of the north docks–
docks

The newly empty slip next to Mahdee–
slip

Our cat, Beryl, on the foredeck wondering where everyone has been going of late–
beryl

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