River Rat "Widows" and "Widowers"

I spent the summer talking to and with numerous women and men who now or did spend their summers in the Thousand Islands Region, noticeably the St. Lawrence River. At their request to remain anonymous, I have amalgamated their stories. You may well recognize one or many, but that is between you and them.

They come in all shapes and sizes. There are no geographical boundaries. Most are of the female gender but there are a few males sprinkled among them.. There is one defining characteristic - they are all River Rat "Widows" or "Widowers". These are their stories.

Loosely defined, true River Rats are those who came to the River at an early age, many just in diapers. Others who once experienced the lure of the River were never able to spend their time elsewhere.

He first came to the island at the age of three weeks and, except for the war years, never missed a summer. He brought his fiancée to the island before introducing her to his family. Together they raised children, dogs, rabbits and even a duck. Over their many years, they expanded and modernized the cottage, always working side by side. He taught her to drive a boat and she taught him to sew. He taught her to use a drill and she taught him how to bake. Electricity was an unknown word at the beginning. Common though was the outhouse and the icehouse. This year was his first without the River. She was his everything, without her, he couldn’t go back.

She too came to her family island while still in diapers. She would spend the summers with her father fishing, swimming, boating and enjoying the beauty of it all. Her first husband was never comfortable with boats. He preferred to skate on, not be in, the water, He tried but he wasn’t handy and each project had an excuse as to it incompletion. She decided henceforth to go it alone and has never been happier fishing, swimming, boating, and working around the cottage and the island. “If something needed fixing, I just rolled up my sleeves and went to work.” She did all her own boat work and never saw an outboard she could not fix.

She had spent every year of her life in the River, on, the River or by the River. She learned to drive the family boats at an early age and was an old hand at painting, priming the water pump, cleaning the kerosene lanterns, lugging the propane tanks and in her leisure time teaching her siblings to swim and fish. At night she would sneak out to run her boat through the islands personally learning about shoals the hard way. She married a man who immediately took command of driving the boats, took on all the outside chores and relegated her to “kitchen and other household’ chores, It was a short-lived relationship. When we last talked, she was getting ready to power wash the deck before repairing the screens on the porch.

She fell in love with the Thousand Islands and the St. Lawrence River at first sight. At the beginning the family spent time in the area travelling about in their boat. Soon, however, they bought an island into which they poured their love and resources almost year-round. Sadly, tragedy struck and she was left a widow. She never gave up, opened the cottage, drove the boat, cleaned the boat, carried the groceries, planted the flowers, did the laundry and overrode her loneliness with smiles and determination.

He was born in the area, grew up by the River and went on to earn a living from it. He never shied away from hard work and by the time he married was considered a moderately successful man. He had everything he wanted and couldn’t wait to share. Unhappily his mate never liked the River or the area and eventually moved away. No regrets on his end “She never contributed anything, so what is there to miss now that she’s gone”.

She got a late start but hit the ground running when she inherited an island in the St. Lawrence River, left to her by her husband. She had never been there but had listened to his stories about his boyhood summers fishing and checking the sky for shooting stars. It might have been unexpected but it was met with love and a fierce desire to spend most of her time on this island. She supervised all the renovations to the cottage, often picking up a hammer or a paintbrush when needed. After all the repairs and additions, she reflected that it might have been less costly to tear it all down and start from the ground up. She would make the long drive with her two dogs, often completing the trip in two days, so anxious was she to get there. She named her boat after him claiming it made her feel close each time ‘they’ went for a ride.

The four of them grew up spending every summer at the River. They learned everything together: driving the boat, cleaning the boathouse, fishing, diving off the big rock and talking. They talked about their lives, their hopes, their career paths and they always ended these talks with a promise to each other that they would always come back every summer. The future, as we all know, does not always come out the way one plans. They all, two boys and two girls, married and, as promised brought their respective spouses to the River. One of the wives could not swim and the other was terrified of spiders. One husband couldn’t sleep at night as it was too silent. The remaining couple took it all in stride, bought out the others and adjusted to being single owners. Over the years she learned to do carpentry, painted the cottage by herself, took a course in electronics, ran the house all the while carrying for her husband bound to a wheelchair.

These are only a few of the stories and reminiscences. They all had their differences, certainly in their approach to being alone and on your own, on an island in the middle of a river. They had their own counsel and a determination that life could be possible and good because they made it so. Hard work was a good friend as was a sense of humor, especially when the boat conked out in the middle of the River. They learned to make do with whatever and to do without if necessary. Some were managing children, others not. What they had in common was a love of the River, a belief that they could do it all, even if alone. The River drew them back every year and they made it possible to be there.

By Allison Burchell-Robinson

Allison Burchell-Robinson's great grandfather built a cottage on Wyoming Island in 1910, and five generations have followed. She spent her childhood summers in the River, on the River or by the River. Eventually, she and her husband moved to an island in Ivy Lea Group. She is happy to return every summer to enjoy, relax and rejuvenate in an area her son referred to as the most beautiful place in the world. Many will recognize Allison for her many years of service to the Thousand Islands Association TIA serving as President then Secretary/Treasurer, and until recently, editor of TIA's "River Talk". See Allison's other TI Life contributions here.