Balmoral Hall School - Optima Anni Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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I4 the gunnel, she reached with the other to loosen the snap on the turn buckle which would release the jib. I thought her hand would never make it . . . The first one was off, and slowly but surely she loosened each snap from the forestay. The ji'b was down! Relief . . . Having observed Kathy's courage in the face of danger, we all set about to lower the main and mizzen sails. Unsure of our footing on the slippery decks, we crawled along to the bow. Kathy went below to find some buckets with which to bale out the cockpit. Caroline crept to the stern to loosen the mizzen sail as soon as I had lowered the main. I had forgotten about jaye, but presumed her helping Kathy. I uncoiled the main sheet, then removed the peg from the eye bolt. One by one the slides slipped off the track. The sail had swung far over to the port side. Then without any warning, a dazzling flash of lightning zigzagged across the sky. It was followed by a second. The boom-the mast-I could see the crack beginning in the middle of the mast. Slowly it grew. Where were the others? Suddenly, I glanced to the starboard -there! clearly silhoueted by another flash of lightning was jaye, slowly creeping along the deck. No doubt she was coming to help me. I screamed, jaye--the boom! It was too late. The boom began swinging toward her. There was no escape. I twinged as I heard the dull thud of the boom strike her head and felt nauseated at the sight of her toppling overboard. Unconsciously and with no thought of fear, I lunged for ,laye and will be everlastingly thankful for the un- known strength that comes in a moment of crisis. With a firm grasp about her waist, I hauled her back into the cockpit and with the help of Kathy, we took her down to the hold. jaye was uncon- scious and badly bruised about the face, but we made her as comfortable as possible. Meanwhile Caroline had managed to free the mizzen sail, and it seemed that we were out of immediate danger. The storm was abating. We decided to set off flares to show our position in the hope that the eight o'clock watch would come to our assistance. What seemed like an eternity was but only a few hours until help arrived. Tears welled in my eyes as the rescue boat loomed into view, its bright light focused on our stricken craft. It was then that I knew Jaye would be in safe hands. As famil- iar faces greeted us and embracing arms enfolded us, we knew despite our harrowing experience, a new day would dawn again. Look back and give thanks. Look forward and take courage. joy McDiarmid, Grade XI. PREQCCT l saith 9 -.. EV V5 S.K. Initiation Oh, most honourable prefect! I, thy most humble servant, do bow down before thee in deep- est reverence, saying: Allah, Allah . October 28th was set aside in the life of Balmoral for the initiating of new girls into this worthy institution . New girls could be found everywhere, often on their knees before an old girl, exercising the dying art of shoe polishing. Equally numerous, so it seemed to the new girls, and seemingly everywhere, were these honourable, upright, worthy citizens, The Prefects. Down we would go on our bruised knees . . . Allah, Allah. As the day wore away, so did our knees and shoe polish. The highlight, however, came at 8:00 p.m. when new girls assembled in the lower cor- ridor in the required costumes for this occasion. Rabbits, gypsies, devils and the strangest characters with swash-buckling boots, long skirts and mous- taches, fell into line. Thus arrayed we paraded before a critical, gloating audience of old girls assembled in the gymnasium and finally arrived in two long lines, and chanted these our carefully learned phrases:- Oh honourable prefects and venerable old girls, we, thy humble new girls do bow down before thee and crave admittance to this worthy institution. There followed a greeting from the Head Girl, Diane Smith, in which she welcomed us to Balmoral Hall. Top entertainment was enjoyed from that mo- ment on amid much laughter and flashing of cameras. Grade Seven acted familiar nursery rhymes. Cleverly presented by Grade Eight was a series of scenes in which they made us guess the titles of some well-known books An amusing skit followed with Grade Nine portraying Mr. Thorsen and a beginners' gymnastic class. Grade Ten excelled in a short but very entertaining melodrama - The Lamp Went Out . Highlighting the evening was an original com- edy lby the prefects Who Stole The Ding-Dong?

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gg gg gpgl3 as the boy flung himself across the double case- ment with a flush and gasp of triumph, Mom can't find me now, he cried. Under his pudgy weight, the two thinly constructed walls creaked and buckled outwards, too far for his inefficient grip. Three seconds after the scraping stopped, the walls sprang back to their parallel position, enclosing their captive, Silence . . . Thibeau stared and stared, his whiskers bristling. Suddenly he darted with a groan of fear towards the security of the chimney corner. Voices floated through the air, up from the late afternoon awakening. Ed, where did Peter go? He hasn't been around all afternoon. I think down at the playground, dear. Well, do you suppose he took all my red and green yarn with him? I'll give him what-for when he gets home. I'll more than likely never see that good stuff againf' Up on the roof, the red rays of the sun had become less potent as it sank far across the city. Flitting breezes had dispelled the bank of oppres- sive heat. Thibeau, with ears cocked, idly tapped the swaying red and green tangle. Brenda Dougall, Grade XI. Le Printemps Le ciel est bleu Comme la mer au dessous, Les oiseaux reviennent Et le vent est rempli Du bruit de la musique Qui flotte par le monde. Dans le jardin Les fleurs fleurissent au soleil, Les fleurs heureuses Dans la chaleur du soleil. Les arbres depouilles Deviennent verts aussi Que les fleurs qui fleurissent. Les enfants courent, Sans controle. Ils chantent Comme les oiseaux Et fleurissent Comme les fleurs Leur Visage et corps montrent L'arrivee de cette saison Si charmante qui s'appelle Le PRINTEMPS. Nancy White, Grade X. An Adventure The sun had just crept over the horizon-the lake was squally. One could hear the squeaking of the boats at their moorings. An ardent sailor at a glance could tell you that this would be an ideal day for one of those leisurely sails. The boat was rigged-the painter was freed from the buoy-our bow was pointed northward. The sails 'billowed in the breeze and the boat glided swiftly along without any appearance of effort. Our yacht was a twenty-foot rigged ketch with sleeping quarters in the hold for four persons. Our crew consisted of jaye, a Texan, Kathy and Caroline, two Tennesseeans, and myself-a Cana- dian. Our destination on this misty morning was Lincoln, located on the north shore of one of the ten thousand lakes in beautiful north-western Minnesota. We sailed throughout the afternoon, with each person taking her turn at the tiller, while the others basked in the warmth of the sun. Towards six o'clock I happened to glance at the sky in the west. What I saw gave me a slight start and I told the others. They confirmed my observation. The wind had increased from twenty-five miles per hour to at least forty, and had shifted to the west. To a sailor a storm means wind. The violent squall from the thunder cloud is the most difficult with which -to contend. Few small sailboats can ride these out under sail. Even the most expert of skippers is helpless when caught in an open lake with sails up in one of these squalls. This type of storm is forewarned by a formation of cumulo- nimbus clouds, thunder, and a change in the direc- tion of the wind-usually to the west. But this phenomena had not been noticed. It looked to us all as though we were about to have an electrical storm. In a strong wind, the danger of capsizing can be averted while beating to windward by letting the sheet run out rapidly. But our sheet had been let out as far as possible. The boat was now high- siding past the guard rail. The waves exceeded four feet, and the water continued to gush in, slowly rising in the cockpit. We were immediately panic-stricken. The blood in my veins froze. If the sails were not lowered instantly, there was an immediate danger of cap- sizing, but to lower sails in a wind of this velocity was inviting certain trouble. What could we do? From the corner of my eye, I saw Kathy climb- ing onto the cockpit cover. I was seized with hor- ror. She would surely fall . . . She inched her way slowly and cautiously along the starboard side of the bow deck. Then my heart skipped a beat . . . she slipped but managed to grab the gunnel and pulled herself up. Then with determination she lay face down on the deck and with one hand on

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I5 The theme was taken from Dragnet with the ap- propriate background music. The play was a take- off on the mysterious disappearance, at the begin- ning of the year, of the school's hand bell and one could recognize such familiar happenings as the climb to Miss Lucas' old office. The final round of applause was well deserved. No party is complete without refreshments, Hot dogs, doughnuts and cold drinks were soon consumed before the evening concluded with a sing-song. Oh, honourable prefect, we thy humble ser- vants do bow down before thee in deepest rever- ence saying: Allah, Allah, be praised that initia- tion is over and that it comes but once in a new girl's life! P. Brodie, Grade X. An Adventure Adventure-please, what is adventure? I am sure that as Hillary and his small party of men planted firmly a little flag in a mound of glaring snow, they felt exhilarated, triumphant. They had their reward for all the sacrifices and dangers through which they had passed. This small group had conquered the towering giant- man over nature-conquering the elements! . . . Is this adventure? As an unknown lion hunter stealthily stalks through dense jungle growth, he must feel a grow- ing tension, a tightening of all his muscles. This feeling, this experience-ah, we have touched on it finally, but wait, when at last the whining mis- sile furrows into that fine, glossy forefront, then the thrill is even greater. He also has conquered . . . Is this adventure? Calmly to sail or tumultuously to ride the waves, to feel the sharp sting of salty water, to taste the 'tang of brine on one's lips, to know the waters of the earth as a mother knows her child . . . Ah! thinks the sailor, surely this is adventure. But I -beg to be different. To me it is a great adventure to waken early, to gaze out of my frost- patterned pane and to see a glistening new world. The trees, overnight have become lacy with a fluffy haze and over there the stream, still run- ning, shivers through its heaping banks. The sun sprinkles the snow with gold dust. All is serene. To me it is a great adventure to find some- thing new to like in a close friend, some little quality that lets itself be known only occasionally but is remembered frequently. And, oh, the thrill of delving into the works of some literary mind! How small the world of a person unacquainted with Steinbeck, Leacock, Hemingway, Cronin and other fine authors. I love to walk, alone, on a cool evening, gaz- ing at the velvet-black sky, studded with occasion- al stars. The eerie feeling of awe creeps up my spine when I hear the soft soughing of the neigh- bouring trees. What made that tree there, so grotesque and deformed? Why, in the night, does it look so like a huge monster? What made me? Why is it so dark, now? The answers are in the moisture of the dewy grass, in the chirping of distant frogs, in the gloriously arrayed heavens around us! This realiza- tion of the presence and power of God is the greatest of adventures. Anthea Dykes, Grade XI. The Lucky Charm There was a very mysterious, broken-down hut sitting in the centre of the bayou which always was surrounded by a green mist. The village people said it was where a witch lived but most thought it was a legend. Gran'ma jones, the town's oldest citizen, found a baby she adopted there. Now, the baby was a young lady with long, blond hair and blue eyes. She was named Lou Anne. Though Gran'ma denies it, she looked very much like Molly Peters, the woman who disappeared into the swamp many years ago. Lou Anne loved to go paddling, by herself, through the bayou, so since this was a day too hot for working she took the dugout and headed towards the swamp's interior. Everyone in town was afraid to enter this part but it strangely attract- ed Lou, as if someone she knew dwelled there. As she skimmed over the water listening to the birds sing, she noticed the mist surrounding the hut had cleared, and to her surprise a woman was standing in front of it. She was in her early forties, a little on the plump side and had a kindly face. Despite her age, Lou noticed that her hair was very blond and her eyes truly blue. just then, the woman noticed Lou and entered her hut before the young girl had an opportunity to speak. When Lou got home, she was punished for going into the bayou instead of doing her work. Gran'ma often punished Lou Anne because, it seemed, she wanted a servant not a daughter. Alone in her room, Lou had time to think but she continually caught herself staring at the lucky charm she found in the bayou. She jumped up! That doll had blond hair and blue eyes too. Why did it resemble her so much? Why did the witch she saw in the bayou today look so much like a normal person? There was only one way to find the answers to those questions: wait till dark and go to the marsh.