Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

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Just as the Pilgrims must have felt upon sighting Plymouth, my bow man got a bit over zealous, and in a liolent swing of the paddle, pointed to the dimly lit cabin, and exclaimed, “Hey look, over there!” All you dlow canoeists will know that any quick movement made in a canoe, if not completely counterbalanced by In equally quick movement in the opposite direction, will cause an upending. Newton’s Laws were certain- ly not suspended on this occasion, and my friend and I promptly found ourselves bobbing in the water be- tide an upturned canoe. For those who have not had the distinct pleasure, the water in Algonquin Park is [specially cold at 1:30 in the morning! Despite our efforts, neither the mysterious person in the dimly lit [abin, nor the campers who were busily sawing logs on White Rock heard our laments, and we were forced |b swim our cold way back to the tent. Over the years, I have derived many pleasures from canoeing, but none perhaps more ‘ennobling’ than on bat memorable night in Algonquin Park. It may not have had the drama of “The Cremation of Sam McGee ”, I: or was it the first time I’ve been warm , but it did nothing to reduce my love of a great sport. Look fast Look fast Look fast. People Look Look Don’t waste Waiting for It may never come. m the blossoms bloom, Let the smiles bring laughter. Don’t look now, It’s too late. Now you look straight up, As you fall right down . . . They’re laughing but don’t look now. 17

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Why I Like Canoeing It happened in an examination room. My mother, who would rather remain anonymous, was writing her B.A. English paper a couple of years ago, when a rather unusual thing happened. “A person ”, she recounts, “who had been perhaps over-nervous about the exam he was to write later that day, took an excessive amount of uppers. As a result, instead of writing an intellectual composition on various Chaucerian or Shakesperian works, he bent his mind to the writing of an essay entitled “Why I like Canoeing ”, for two hours. This paper was, unbelievably, a two hour major work, apparently eloquently written, but on what the title suggested — canoeing. ’ I don’t want to be particularly inane, or naive, but canoeing is the topic I plan to write about. I have an un- ' equalled love for this sport, and it has given me many experiences, one of which I shall tell now. Once upon a time, about eight or nine years ago. Mother and Father decided that they didn’t want any- thing to do with Junior during the month of July, so they sent me off to camp. My luggage was packed, and i one sunny day, I was taken to the bus. This was the first time I had ever been away from home, and naturally, j I was deeply grieved. I was to take a three hour bus trip up into the wilds of Haliburton. It took me quite a while to shoulder my sorrow for the departure, but having done so, I thoroughly enjoyed the remaining two hours and fifty-nine minutes of the trip. Upon arrival, I instantly began to have fun. I proved an interested archer, an avid marksman, an able swim- mer, a spastic diver (you can’t excel in everything — it looks too good) but most of all, my memory of canoe- ing is the clearest. Ever since the beginning of camp, I completely detested canoeing! ! As I grew more mature (?) however, my sentiments changed, and I became an enthusiastic fan of the sport, exercising every opportunity to venture out into the deep, man fighting against lake, armed only with paddle and life jacket. Unfortunately the lake almost a lways won, but I persevered until I became a master canoe- ist — I no longer needed to wear a life jacket. Five years, seven canoe trips, approximately twenty (twenty too many) overnights, and innumerable God-awful hikes later, I went on the canoe trip of all canoe trips — the culmination of all my knowledge and experience. It was a ten day affair in Algonquin Park, starting at the uppermost reaches of civilization and end- ing at the main outpost at Canoe Lake. My superior (?) experience enabled me to take the helm, and for an enjoyable nine days, we laboured, and occasionally lazed our way to the place that was to be our campsite for the last night. We had planned the trip well enough, so that we spent our last nocturnal visit with the park ! on Lake Tanamakoon, the home of a girls’ camp of the same name. We stayed at a campsite directly across from the camp, and notorious for its use, called “White Rock’’. It was there that I had my most memorable ; experience. Another adventurous soul and I set off that night across the bay, to pull a boyish raid on the girls. This was about as late as I had ever been up, but at the time it seemed well worth the effort. We noiselessly crept out : of our tent, tiptoed down the bank to the canoes, put a canoe into the water, and quietly pushed off the shore. ; The night was as black as pitch, and the stillness of the moonless night seemed unfairly broken by the soft, ! constant splash of our paddles, as they dipped into the water. We made our way slowly across the bay (the sky j being black, which impeded our progress) so as to be able to distinguish any markers to aid our attack. I was J I helmsman again for the journey, and so it was the other chap, in the front of the canoe, that spotted the camp s ; dim light first. Apparently someone was still up, as we had hoped. Our goal was in sight! !

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Law and Order In the fall of 1974, both major Toronto dailies, the Globe and Mail and the Star, published a series of articles about alleged unprovoked beatings being adminis- tered by members of the Metropolitan Police Force to innocent citizens. I live in Toronto and I believe that these charges can do nothing but harm. Being a citizen of Toronto means being able to say that I live in a city which is an urban paradise compared to many cities of its size. A visitor to Toronto is amazed to see people walking downtown after sunset without fear of being at- tacked. The lack of crime in Toronto can be attributed to two things: the public’s confidence in, and support of their police force; and the police force’s knowledge that they have this supp ort. To illustrate this point, one can compare the jobs of a policeman in Toronto and in Detroit. If the Detroit policeman is responding to a call he knows that it might be a trap set for him by a psychopathic killer or it may be a harmless old lady lonely for company. Worse, however, is that he knows that no matter where he goes, people will stare and sneer, yell pig , and ignore him if he is in trouble. The Toronto policeman on the other hand knows that he can obtain assistance from citizens if he needs it. I realize that I might be paint- ing an exaggerated picture of the Toronto citizen fighting his way through a hail of bullets in order to save the hard-pressed man in blue. But this is not far from the truth. When ugly incidents such as goon squads of policemen used to subdue violent prisoners, and harsh methods of questioning are disclosed to the public, I think this mutual trust and confidence is undermined. There are over thirty-two hun- dred men in the Metropolitan Police Force of Toronto. The media have told of the deeds of at most twenty men in this force and the “crimes they have com- mitted. What of the countless lives the other 99.6% have saved and the peace and order they have maintained in Toronto? In other cities, riots are quelled with brutal stormtrooper-like tactics, whereas the Metropolitan Force have on many occasions attained the same results by orderly means, relying more upon the powers of reason rather than violence. They are the finest police force in North America as they have proven time and time again. I was relieved to see in the Globe and Mail the other day, an article which told of a gang who dragged policemen from their cars and beat them on two occa- sions. The news was disheartening, but the fact that the incident was noted and the following public outrage was immense gave me the feeling that the Toronto public are still in full favour of their police force. They are not going to be hood- winked by sensationalist, scandal-hungry newspapers which allow ' rumours and innuendoes to occupy the front page. It has proven that the public trust and have confidence in their officials and upholders of the law. Several years ago, there was a great deal of talk about “Law and Order across North America. Today much of this talk has died away but the spiraling crime rate persists, and has reached critical levels in many urban ghettos. Toronto is indeed fortunate to possess such a fine police force, and in order to ensure that the ideal of “Law and Order ’ remains a reality, we must continue to give it our utmost support. 18