Some childhood memories don’t hold up well when they are revisited. TV shows aren’t as funny; special candy concoctions don’t taste the same; snow banks are never as high as remembered. However, last weekend I had the chance to relive a favorite childhood adventure that stands the test of time. I was able to float down memory lane.
I was a very lucky kid. My grandpa was Roy Oberg, a ship captain. He piloted several boats, commemorated in a wonderful Howard Sivertson painting, which depicts grandpa surrounded by all his boats. Thelast two boats I am familiar with—the Voyageur and the Voyageur II.
I was lucky to be able to make the trip from Grand Portage to Isle Royale every summer. Our family spent many hours on the deck of the Voyageur, relaxing in the intense sun reflecting off the water on calm trips or enjoying the crash of the waves on stormy days. I remember being a bit nervous on foggy days when the shoreline wasn’t visible. I remember the relief when the rugged shoreline did come into view. And I remember marveling at the beautiful scenery—Rock of Ages lighthouse, The Palisades, the sailboats skittering across the water in the bays.
I enjoyed sitting on the ledge in the pilot house as grandpa steered the Voyageur through narrow channels and brought her snug against the dock at his numerous stops—Belle Isle, the Daisy Farm camping area, Chippewa Harbor and others. One of the most fascinating parts of the trip was through Washington harbor, over the ghost of the steamship America, which can be seen from the surface on very calm days.
I miss those special days. The last time I was on the Voyageur was shortly after Chuck and I were married. We came home to Minnesota on vacation and found time to make a trip to the Island as grown-ups. We had a wonderful time with grandpa. He tried to teach us cribbage and we had a delicious lake trout dinner at Rock Harbor Lodge.
Last week I was a very lucky grown-up. My brotherin law, Brian, invited Chuck and me to go fishing with him—to Isle Royale. We had marvelous luck fishing. We caught our limit of nice eating sized lake trout.
But even more wondrous for me was to once again cruise out of Grand Portage, past Grand Portage Island (which used to be Pete’s Island), past the Susie Islands, out onto the lake until the Minnesota shoreline was barely visible. Coming upon Rock of Ages was like seeing an old friend. We trolled along the edge of the island and I enjoyed seeing the rocky shore pocked with caves and decorated with ancient cedars.
After catching our limit, Brian took us into Washington Harbor where divers were exploring the America. We docked and visited Betty Strom, who invited us in for hot-from-the-oven caramel rolls. We had a wonderful chat. Betty was one of the many people who for many years got her mail and supplies from grandpa on the Voyageur.
Her kind words about grandpa made him seem close. Or perhaps it was because I was lucky to be on the water and the island that he loved.
A happy childhood can’t be cured.
Hortense Calisher
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