“I will go ahead but will wait for you before I approach them.”
Joe Loon started the motor, opened the throttle, and his bow cut just a bit of spray as the wind picked up and the soft chop kicked up into small waves. He headed towards the cove.
As the plane taxied across the cove to the sand beach, Brian got out of his chair, opened the door, and climbed down to stand on the Norseman's starboard pontoon. He called out “Hello, Innish Cove!” and Maureen laughed as she opened the fuselage door, climbed down the ladder, and stood on the port pontoon. When the pontoons touched the beach the pair leapt from pontoon to sand in the same moment, and Maureen moved to Brian for his embrace, but he hadn't noticed her expectation as he turned and headed for the top of the beach, the edge of the forest sitting on a shelf just above the wide, long sweep of sand. He stopped there and turned to look out at the cove protected by the rocky point, then he looked up the beach where it ended in a forested shore. Maureen stood next to him, studying him studying the cove.
“Tell me what you're thinkin'.”
“From where the beach meets the beginnin' of the bluff, there as a boundary to the point there, and the ridgeline behind…”
Maureen reached down and scooped up a handful of sand.
“And the beach.”
“It's grand,” and Brian turned and stepped up onto the shelf, entering the forest through the birch grove that served as a door into the thick jack pine and spruce forest. Maureen turned to Dutch and waved, then followed Brian.
The winds were kicking stronger as the canoes crossed Kaputowaganickcok, and Joe Loon knew that the plane's sounds had masked the sound of his small motor. Now he turned off his motor to glide to a stop just behind the tip of the rocky point. He could see in the cove; he couldn't be seen. Albert and Mathew were still behind, paddling hard for the final distance.
Joe Loon arrived at the point just in time to see a white man with snow-white hair climb out of the plane, walk up the beach, and stop at the edge of the birch trees in the pine green forest.
“Grandfather. He has flown here to stand at the Trees the Women Watered with Their Tears. This must be a white man from your dream.”
“We will find out.”
The wind suddenly gusted and danced along the fir trees setting them a swirl and that gust was followed by another and another.
“What does this mean, that they arrive as a storm is coming?”
“We will watch and see.”
When Albert caught up with Joe Loon, they saw the white-haired white man sitting at the top of the beach next to the birch grove. He wore sunglasses, and Mathew told Simon, “My father says this Snow Hair is a good man.”
“Let us go ask him why he is here.”
Brian had been weaving his way through the trees keeping the cove in sight, attempting first a broad survey, determining the depth and breadth of this flat forest shelf between beach and ridge. He discovered that it ran wide and long between beach shore and the foot of the ridge that started on an easy slope before it grew more severe with each step up. And he found it was home to deer flies and mosquitos, and he swatted them without being distracted. Maureen followed, catching up when Brian stopped to note another cabin site by counting it out. He was up to eight cabins and two dozen swats when she caught him again. She had been looking out at the cove between the trees and spotted two canoes headed towards the plane.
“Bri, look.”
“How grand. Innish Cove has its first visitors.”
“Might be good to look at it from the other end.”
“What? That this is their home an' we're the visitors? Ah, yes, you are the smart one.”
They turned to work their way back to the beach.
The two canoes pulled up next to the plane. With a smile Dutch reached out his hand to Simon but since Simon couldn't see Snow Hair's eyes he was uncertain of this man's purpose so he looked past him as he stepped out from the bow.
“Proud fellow, eh. So whatta you boys up to today?”
Joe Loon walked the length of the canoe then stepped out onto the beach. Simon stood next to him, and Joe Loon nodded to Snow Hair. Albert spoke for them all from Nigig's stern.
“This is Joe Loon. He is chief elder of the Loon clan. He does not speak the English words. I will speak for him. I am Albert Loon. Joe Loon is my uncle. Here are grandsons of Joe Loon.”
Joe Loon told Albert to ask why Snow Hair kept his eyes hidden from them but before he could they were surprised when the biggest white man they had ever seen charged out of the bright white grove of birch trees. This big man was followed by a woman with raven hair, so very black as their own that for a moment Mathew thought she was one of their people.
Simon took a step closer to his grandfather. “Yaway, Grandfather, this white man is as big as a bear.”
Mathew said, “He comes from the Trees Watered by the Tears of our Sorrows.”
When Brian saw Joe Loon and Albert and the boys, he called out, “Greetings, neighbors!”
Dutch called back, “Seems only the one there in the canoe speaks English.”
Brian and Maureen joined them as Albert spoke.
“Joe Loon would like to know why you have come to this place.”
Brian gained a moment to collect his thoughts by nodding with a smile to each of the Ojibway. Just before he spoke, Maureen answered.
“This big man, he has been dreamin' big dreams for many years. This beach here an' this cove, an' that lake out beyond that cove an' these forests, they are the world that makes up his big dreams. This big man has been on a great journey to find this place so his dreams can come true.”
Then Brian took over.
“You an' your people are always in my dreams as well.”
After Brian explained to Albert that he was going to buy this land and build a fishing camp, he waited while Albert translated for the others. Dutch had been watching the wind pick up and he left the group to climb a rocky outcropping at the edge of the beach where he would get a better view of the western sky behind them, though the ridge still prevented a far view.
“This woman tells us this big white man has traveled a great distance from his home for he has dreamed of this place for many years. She calls them big dreams. She says our people are in his dreams. He says he will buy this land and he will make this a place that many of the White Man Who Fish will come here to catch fish. He would like to meet all of the People who live on the River to tell us of this big dream.”
Joe Loon looked at Brian as he spoke to his people. “What is this we are hearing? That this big man is here because his big dreams bring him here from a far off place. This must be a white man from my dreams. He is so big, he looks like he would be a good fighter. I hope this is the white man sent to help our people, for I do not want to fight him. But what does this mean that he would bring the white man to this sacred place? ”
“He says to tell you he dreams he will build many cabins at this place and in the middle will be a great meeting lodge. The White Man Who Fish will come stay in his cabins. He tells me our people will make more money guiding for the White Man Who Fish than we do catching fish in our nets.”
“Grandfather, this is Where Our People Cried as Our People Burned. They must not build cabins for the White Man Who Fish on ground that is sacred to our ancestors.”
“All the Keewatin clans must hear this big white man's dreams. I must think about this for four days. Tell him our people will meet him at this place in four days. On that day when the sun is at its highest, we will be here to listen to his big dreams.”
Dutch returned from his weather observations.
“Maureen, tell your partner we should be getting out of here now if we're to make it back to Kenora without taking a risk.”
”Hear that, Bri? Our fellow here says we need to be in the sky right now or…”
Brian told Albert he would return in four days, then he reached out his hand to Joe Loon. After they shook hands, Joe Loon said to the others,
“You must shake this big white man's hand. It is as big as a bear paw.”
After they all shook hands, Dutch boarded to prep the plane while the men and boys and Maureen pushed the plane off the beach, turning it as they did. Brian and Maureen scrambled inside, and Brian sat next to Dutch as he started the engine to taxi out of the cove.
“Or what Dutch?”
“Or we could be spending the night right here, and we won't find much overnight comfort for us in the plane beyond protection from the rain.”
After the plane was airborne and Dutch had a clear view west, he saw the storm was rolling in much faster and apparently larger than forecasted, so he headed south with a constant eye on the storm's leading edge. He was still well ahead of it. But they had come much farther north than he had planned, and it was gaining on them.
After takeoff Brian sat next to Maureen on the bench seat in the plane's fuselage.
“We'll want to buy the whole cove, bluff to point an' to the top of the ridge line behind.”
“You want Joe Loon's approval first. Without them, there's no business. With them, it's your Eden in the wilderness.”
They passed the first row of ridges and as they approached the second, the storm front was closer. Soon the mild turbulence just ahead of the front caught up with them, just rattling them a bit at first, but it grew in intensity and within minutes was shaking the plane. They crossed the third ridgeline with the clearance Dutch favored, but the next two ridges were taller, the last much taller.
The engine's roar and the plane's rattles were amplified, and now the bouncing began as the clouds gathered. Brian had to call loudly for Dutch to hear him.
“The storm's caught us, yeah?”
Dutch had removed his sunglasses.
“Not yet, but it's getting close.”
Brian stepped up to stand next to Dutch for his own view of the storm.
“We have to stay below those clouds, and if the ceiling gets any lower or the visibility any worse, then crossing the ridges becomes a problem.”
The plane was caught in a sudden downdraft and dropped sharply; Brian knocked his head against the plane's ceiling before he fell over the co-pilot's chair as Dutch regained control, checked, then recovered some lost altitude.
“It's time to sit this out.”
“Like you say, the safest place to fly, with all these lakes as landing strips.”
“It's an easy decision when you ask would you rather be a day late or thirty years early, eh? In the back you'll find some life jackets. Get 'em on, but then get back, I need your weight up front with me for best handling.”
Brian turned and was rocked back hard against the fuselage, but he smiled at Maureen who smiled back and reached out to help steady him. He took a step then her hand for support but still fell past her as the plane bucked again. He crawled back to sit down next to her.
“I'm never going back to Ireland,” she said.
“We're safe. Dutch is looking for the right lake to set her down.”
“No, I mean, that cove, that is exactly what I imagined when you told me your dreams, Bri. Let's stay here and make it come true.”
Brian released her hand to scoot to the far edge of the bench where he could reach the supplies in the tail section, stowed behind cargo netting from floor to ceiling. He found just one life vest.
Maureen called out loud.
“That's Innish Cove, you said so. And it's got a golden beach.”
“An' the grandest people livin' right there, like they were waitin' for us to come.”
“That Joe Loon fellow, he's the last puzzle piece. I could feel he had a deep regard for us being there. So I'm sayin', let's commit to it all. Right here an' right now, eh. Let's never go back.”
Brian sat back holding the life vest.
“We have to go back, don't we?”
“Not if you don't want to. I don't want to. I'm staying here, whatever your decision is.”
Maureen pulled the map case from under the bench so it rested between her feet. When Brian had caught up with Maureen in Dublin at the start of the trip, this brand new map case had been waiting for him in his hotel room in the middle of his bed. Next to it was a note from Maureen that read “A magic box, to make your dreams of the Great Lodge at Innish Cove come true”.
Later that evening she told him, “When we get to Kenora and we place the proper maps and notes and plans inside, the case will work its magic.”
Maureen emptied the case of all the papers they had collected in their exploration and piled them on the bench between them. Then she placed the empty case on Brian's lap.
“I want us to be man an' wife. I want us to start a new life right here, as our own family, with these Ojibway Indians, with Chicago businessmen an' Texas oilmen as our guests.”
She reached in the case and pulled up the false bottom and Brian had a brief glimpse of the British pounds before the plane bounced, bounced again, then dropped, deep and fast, and Maureen was thrown off the bench. Brian caught her as they both fell to the floor, and maps and charts and British pounds spilling out of the tumbling case flew all around them.
Dutch gained control and called out as Brian and Maureen found some balance.
“Get up here, Brian. I got to land my baby now.”
The plane was bucking up and down and back and forth as Maureen and Brian leaned over to attend to the mess and bounced off each other again.
“Now Brian!”
Brian handed Maureen the life vest. “Put this on.”
“I got this. Go.”
“Okay, but put this on.”
As Brian slid back between the seats, a sudden gust spilled him on top of Dutch and then dumped him back into the co-pilot's chair. It was raining hard, and the wind was howling. Quick drops followed sudden bucks, one after the other.
“There was just one vest. Maureen has it on.”
“Sorry, I was sure—” He was cut short by another sudden drop. “That lake right there. That's where we'll set her down.”
Dutch turned to the east, a hard port bank. Below them the thick fir forest canopy swayed and swirled and twisted in the powerful winds. Dutch fought to make a hard, tight turn back west and into the wind as he lined up the approach and the plane rocked constantly.
“I got the wind, you got reef duty.”
“Reef duty?”
“There's reefs all through these lakes. Some are just under the surface of the water. On a sunny day you see 'em from the air as shadows in the water, so you can plan a landing to avoid them. Not now. But you know how to read waves, so look sharp for places where waves are breaking over rock and point it out to me right away. Don't assume I've seen it.”
“Got it.”
The plane dropped again.
“Lots of ways it could be a very hard landing.”
In the next drop Dutch lost fifty of the three hundred feet he had planned to maintain above the trees as the lake opened just ahead.
“Maureen, brace yerself. The Dutchman has the angle he wants an' is approachin'. I'll count you down from lucky seven… six… five… four…”
A sudden wind shear sent the plane plummeting down and down until its pontoons crashed into the tops of the dense fir trees twenty yards from the edge of the lake. The plane still had enough forward momentum that it skied across the canopy as top sections of trunks and limbs bent and snapped and fell away into a natural ramp of boughs and branches that delivered the Norseman to the water in a hard, whiplashed, but controlled, landing.
While Dutch throttled back and released the pontoons' rudders to direct the taxi, everyone was still stunned, and quiet. When Dutch turned the plane and taxied towards the closest shoreline best protected from the winds, Maureen called out from the back.
“What just happened?”
Dutch was quiet, in disbelief. When he considered what had occurred, he shook his head. Brian looked back to give Maureen a smile.
“We was fallin' from the sky an' God decided to reach
down an' catch us.”
“Sitting right over the pontoons it sounded like claws reaching to grab us.”
Dutch said, “Let's get to the shore there. We should make sure we got no punctures in any of the pontoons.”
The left pontoon was dented from the trunk of one of the trees they'd skied over, but neither was punctured. Dutch anchored the plane just offshore in a bay that got all the rain but deflected the winds enough that the plane gently bobbed in the heavy downpour. Night had fallen, and Maureen was in the pilot's seat, curled in a ball, facing Brian in the co-pilot's seat. Dutch had made a pallet on the floor of the fuselage from a blanket and the life vest. The beating of the rain against the plane had been loud but was softening and was finally comforting.
Maureen looked up at Brian. “Let's go ahead an' declare right now our first cabin is built before summer's end.”
“You're sure?”
“I'm sure nothin' back in Ireland is half as promisin' as this is right here.”
“My children are back there.”
“We'll invite 'em to visit. Once they get here, they won't want to go back.”
“We'll be a long time before we'll know if all that's so. It's my fear gettin' 'em here for a first visit won't happen anytime soon.”
“Marry me or make me your partner, but let's decide right now to make these dreams of yours come true.”
“I can't marry you, Lady Girl. Have no doubts I imagine it a sweet life… but meetin' with the solicitor to begin the plannin' of our partnership to purchase Innish Cove—I think that's the right move.”
“I've met with two. I know which one I'd recommend, but I got meetin's set up with both to see what you think.”
“Here's to the partnership.”
They shook hands as Brian added, “We need the blessin' of the red men first. You're right, we got no business without 'em bein' a big part of it with us.”
“We'll put the land purchase in motion, then come back an' help them understand how the fishin' lodge will be good for their people.”
The 53rd Parallel Page 11