There have been – it would seem – three hunting and fishing cabins on the shores of Lake Kennabi. Back in ’46, only two of those buildings were still standing. The older camp was a one-room log structure built by Archie Scott, on the south shore at the portage to Yankton Lake – misnamed ‘The Trapper’s Cabin’. I for one, must admit that I will always think of it by that misnomer. The second one was ‘The Fee Cabin’, a long two-room frame structure situated on the north shore, at the west end of the narrowest part of the lake’s outlet bay. It was only a couple of hundred paces – if that – east of the start to Kennabi Creek. It would become – after ’46 – the south wing of Kennabi Lodge – Camp Kennabi Headquarters (47-60). The third one… a mystery of sort – a story for sure!

In Richard Pope’s book ‘Me n Len…’, the Wilberforce area map ca.’20 (p.10) shows a cabin in the southeast corner of Lake Kennabi’s Hidden Bay. In the Keyed Locations (Legend) it is number (1), and labelled as Jimmy Robertson’s Cabin. According to Len Holmes’ map, that cabin was on the shore, just south of the mouth of Ire’s Creek. Richard asked Len about Jim Robertson and received a lengthy reply. Len said, “Old Ed Robertson’s boy… Surveyor – and a damn good one too. Knew this whole bush like the back of his hand. He was surveyor for the Dysart Land Company for years and years – took it over from his dad. Oh Jim knew the country. Don’t think that he didn’t. There was no place in the County of Haliburton that Jim Robertson didn’t know. Clean living man too. Never swore or bothered the liquor.” (p.79).

Jim Robertson and Archie Scott had much in common: both had Scottish surnames; both had hunting and fishing cabins on the shore of Lake Kennabi – ca 1930; both had employment that would not permit the block of time required of serious full-time winter trappers, such as James Holland and Len Holmes. ‘Black Archie’, although self-employed, would have been too busy with his winter timber business. Jim Robertson would have been lucky to get one week – without pay (ca. the 1920’s and 1930’s) – during the fall hunt. Even as late as the end of World War II in 1945, labour was struggling to obtain a two-week holiday – with pay. I am concerned that some alumnus or alumna might attempt to dub this third cabin… ‘The Lost T…’s Cabin’. Clearly it was not – I do see the temptation. ‘Trapper’s Cabin’ sadly, sells well!

The 135^th Toronto Boy Scout Troop first saw Hidden Bay in 1948. We were seated in one of the Queens – three large lifeboats, retired from service on the Great Lakes – being towed counter-clockwise around Lake Kennabi. The guide pointed out the entrance to Hidden Bay, on our right. The nearest mainland campsites were – possibly – Westview (northward) and – probably – Chippewa (southward). Buck Island, on our left, did not yet have a Kingfisher Bay site, and there were no sites at the entrance to, or within, Hidden Bay itself. From our viewpoint, that bay was quite primitive. Later that August week, some of us canoed into and around that little bay. The rustic shore did not invite a landing. Fifty-five years may now have passed, but I can report that there was not the least evidence of a cabin – standing or otherwise – to be seen from the water… in 1948.

Although the 135^th camped at Big Bear (usually) and at Big Cedar (once) over the following years, I never had cause to revisit Hidden Bay until ’53. Larry Whitehorn (50?-53) as senior water-front man, instructed his junior – me – on the way that we were to enforce the marine rules. Besides the supervision of: swimming, boating, canoeing and the weekly regatta at Big Bear Point, we two were expected to patrol the lake as often as possible with a final run each evening just before sundown. In my case, overnight hikes and canoe trips were exceptions. It was our task to clear the water of all craft before dark. Two spots received special attention: Mud Bay – totally ‘Out of Bounds’ – seldom a real problem; and Hidden Bay where fishermen from the Buck Island campsite at Kingfisher Bay, tried to hide out. They often delayed their departure for home and left insufficient time to reach their site before nightfall. I towed a few skiffs back to that dock, accompanied with the appropriate reprimand. In 1953 no campsites existed in or near Hidden Bay. The rustic shores remained. No cabin sighted from the water in 1953.

The new swimming instructor – Bob Shaver (54-55) – and I continued evening patrols for the next two summers. Once in ’54, I landed on the shore of Hidden Bay just slightly north of Ire’s Creek – accompanied by the two Camp Kennaway water-front characters. Under orders, I guided Ian MacCaulay (54?-56?) and Sid Robinson (54?-56?) – both giants in their own way – into Ire’s Lake. We came back to the shore with the creek to our left. No cabin seen in 1954.

Even in 1956 – the year of my solo hike through to Ire’s Lake, the Burleigh Rd., Wilberforce etc. – the Hidden Bay campsite was only roughed-in, small and had no dock. This site – like many such sites – had been started a year or so before it became official and actually gained map status. I know for sure, that no other campsite existed in or even near the bay. Still no report on a cabin site… in 1956.

In 1957 – as Scoutmaster – I brought the 8^th Willowdale Troop to Kennabi for a week. I chose a new campsite – now on the map – called Hidden Bay. That week’s adventures were stories quite unto themselves. Important – to the current tale – this was only a base camp! We were away for four days (two nights), on two separate overnight hikes – both starting at the Lodge. Wednesday was the only full weekday spent at base… that… in or on the water. Even though camped only a few hundred feet north of the creek mouth, we had no clue that a cabin site was so nearby, on the south side of that creek. Being a new site, firewood was plentiful. The boys had no cause to venture too far from the fire – no cause to reach Ire’s Creek. We could still make the same old report… no sign of a cabin site in 1957.

Hidden Bay campsite was marked on the map as if it were in the northeast corner of the bay. It was really further south – by at least 100 yards – and nearer the mouth of Ire’s Creek. Later, maps of the 1960’s corrected that error – thank goodness!

Back a few years ago, my uncle and I on one long trip, canoed up the Crow River – Algonquin Park – headed for Big Crow Lake. With a storm in the offing, we hustled. Ralph and I had less than kind words for the map maker. ‘Stone-dome’ and ‘marble-head’ made Ralph’s list. Two portages were on the wrong bank, a third entirely missing. We waded rapids, lined the canoe… only to find a campsite marked in the southwest bay of the lake… non-existent. We could have used the Irish Gaelic… we could have shouted ‘amadán’ (idiot)! Some people should never be allowed to make maps. They just… don’t get it!

In 1962 – as Scoutmaster – I brought the 4^th Preston (Pioneer) Troop (Cambridge since 1973) to Kennabi for a week. They would camp: 6 summers in Haliburton County; 5 of those on Lake Kennabi; only one of those at Hidden Bay. That 1962 camp was to be their first and only – my last – visit to that campsite. Little had changed since 1957 – still no dock, small clearings, plenty of firewood within easy reach. One big change had occurred! At the south end of the bay, a new site – Pirate’s Cove – had been established. Ire’s Creek was on the map, just slightly northeast of that new site. One would say that the cabin site was – according to Len Holmes’ map – located between Pirate’s Cove and the mouth of the creek, and consequently a suburb of the campsite. Creek mouth, cabin site and campsite were clearly… cheek by jowl.

I now know that that 1962 camp took place between Saturday, August 18 and Saturday, August 25. One Sunday last summer, a good friend and 4^th Preston A.S.M. – Ron Schut – dropped by with his personal camp journal (diary) for 1962. What a break! He knew that I was writing about Camp Kennabi. Ron… born in 1949, had been only a 13 year old tenderfoot scout back then. He was now down from the Baysville area, visiting family – his dad George had been our Rover Skipper in the 1960’s. Ron delivered that journal on Sunday, August 25, forty years to the day, since the last day of the 1962 camp at Hidden Bay. Pure coincidence…!? Who is going to believe that? If Ron was aware of this, he made no mention of it. Now pencil in hand, it caught my eye. ‘Scout’s Honour’ reader… no blarney… no malarkey!

The mid-week canoe trip to Wilberforce while exciting, was not as pertinent to the present account as was the troop’s pioneer effort. They built a short – under 20ft – signal (a.k.a. semaphore) tower on the high ground in the centre of camp. Ron’s – Sun., the 19^th – entry reads, “We started to erect a lookout tower…”. He is right as it had a thatched roof and was used for observation only. The frame was made of so-called white cedar (arbor vitae). The source of trees – for legs, spars, thatch etc. – was the damp ground in the vicinity of Ire’s Creek. Those cedars were taken well back from the shore – as directed. Ron’s – Mon., the 20^th – entry reads “Worked on tower…” and – Thurs., the 23^rd – reads, “Worked more on tower…” The canoe trip ended in mid-afternoon, yet the boys still had both interest and energy for their tower… their ‘lookout tower’.

We saw nothing of a cabin or site, yet trees had been dropped, limbed and trimmed for thatch, literally at the cabin’s back door – if it had had one. Even more surprising, a troop was camped at Pirate’s Cove. Ron’s journal entry – Thurs., the 23^rd – reads, “Campfire with other scouts…” and also – Fri., the 24^th – “After dinner had a Regatta with other camp, (Pirate’s Cove)” and “Had another campfire with other troop at Pirate’s Cove.” The troops trekked between sites by way of a makeshift trail. The skiffs were easier for the old skippers. I now wish that I had taken the trail at least once in daylight. That trail took those boys either through or just behind Jimmy Robertson’s cabin site. Ron can claim that he was one of those that passed over that historic location. I can only report that we failed to discover any sign of a cabin site in ’62.

Why has the ‘Robertson Cabin’ not been found? Could it be that we all were unaware of its existence until the publication of ‘Me n Len…’ in 1985 – if then? Could it be because – even in 1946 – it simply was no longer there? Cannibalization of building in the bush was common and economical. One might recall how Len Holmes built his Far Camp from lumber that he scrounged from Laking’s Camp 7 on Holland’s Creek (aka Drag River). I suggest – based on my own experience – that Jim Robertson, or others, may have disassembled that cabin, plank by plank, and toted the materials ‘back out ‘eastward via Ire’s Logging Camp (east shore of Ire’s Lake) to the Burleigh Road. and even beyond. I said ‘back out’ as I assume that that was how the lumber etc. came into Hidden Bay. I recall remnants of the old tote road – no surprise – and accompanying skidway scars, in that bush between Lake Kennabi and the Burleigh Road. in the – early and mid –1950’s. Sid and Ian, those Camp Kennaway whippersnappers, just might recall the scene from 1954.

If my assumption is wrong, then the material could have been delivered – and removed – by water from the west end of the lake, with its easy access to the Kennaway Road. Dad’s Elephant Lake camp was built entirely of materials brought by punt (skiff) raft, over more than a mile of open water – in the early 1940’s – from Russ Schickler’s Elephant Lake Lodge. The lumber piled high on eight or ten of Schickler’s boats, along with kegs (wooden) of nails, bundles of shingles, bags of cement etc., made a unique site. Four ancient outboard motors propelled the big raft. Charlie Townsend supervised.

The Robertson Cabin construction could have been either log – e.g. ‘The Trapper’s Cabin’ – or frame – e.g. ‘The Fee Cabin’. In either case, salvage would include: all measured lumber, window(s), door(s), all hardware – possibly, but much less likely, the logs. Even with roof, floor etc. removed, log walls could remain standing for many years. Since we saw nothing in those early days, I tend to opt for a frame structure. After salvage, a set of ‘sill logs’ just might remain. Rock ‘sill posts’ may have been used in lieu of the logs, thus leaving less clear evidence of a cabin. That building could now be totally gone for close to 60 years. Time – our constant foe – marches on.

I hope that I have encouraged some reader to hustle their bustle over to the mouth of Ire’s Creek. I have hesitated to suggest that a metal detector might help clear up the mystery, with good reason. The worst case scenario may be a site with nothing but rusty spikes and nails… buried in the humous, giving the detector very little iron to work with. To add to this problem, the sulphurous iron ores of the area: e.g. magnetite (a magnetic iron oxide) and haematite (a ferric oxide ore) – even though in little more than trace amounts locally – might foul up sophisticated detection. Iron oxides (a.k.a. rust), if in sufficient quantities, have an effect on magnetic compasses – another story to tell. What effect might all of this have on a metal detector…? This amateur geologist (a.k.a. ‘rockhound’) is unsure.

Jim Robertson and I have been close friends for a very long time. I knew his late dad – in fact, know his family – quite well. Jim is indeed very familiar with Haliburton et al. He and I: hiked, camped, canoed, fished and sailed together. It was Jimmy to some, Jim to others,… to his dad he was Seumas (Scot’s Gaelic for James) and pronounced – by that man from Wick – as ‘Hay-mish’. Circa 1948, Jim and I even camped on the abandoned Kennaway Road – just east of the survey line for the Town of Kennaway. Jim and I camped together on Lake Kennabi, but never in or near Hidden Bay. The reader can imagine my surprise in the mid 1980’s, when I first saw Jimmy Robertson’s Cabin marked on Len Holme’s map. I did a double take! Richard Pope’s book ‘Me n’ Len…’ has often given me a jolt.

Of course it was my intent to call Jim as soon as possible, but he rang me first. He was unaware of: Richard Pope’s ‘Me n Len…’, Len Homes or Jim Robertson ‘the surveyor’. Namesakes can present interesting parallels at times. I must apologize to the reader for my feeble attempt at deception – the temptation… too much to resist. I do assure the reader… all facts relating to the two Jims are true – more about my friend Jim in the ‘Kennaway Saga’… still in the works. For now Warner, we need somebody – even an ‘Olde Tymer’ – to hustle… over to the northern suburbs of Pirate’s Cove. The ‘Lost Kennabi Cabin’ – that 3^rd cabin – awaits discovery. “Adh Mór Ort!” (good luck!)… Warner et al.