Shut-Eye Shanty, Jack Lake Ontario, Canada 6-16

Jack Lake is located in the Kawartha Lakes region of Ontario, about 2 hours north east of Toronto in the heart of classic Canadian “cottage country”. The town of Apsley is a 20 minute (windy, hilly gravel road) drive away. About 58 years ago Dave’s maternal grandparents (Myra and OB) bought a cottage here, in a forest on a lake. Dave started coming here with his grandparents as a kid (he spent his first birthday here), and when he was 26, with the help of some generous loan terms, he was able to buy the place from his mother and uncle.

Coming to the cottage is the opposite of what cruising was. Cruising was about moving, going to new places and meeting new people. Travel, adventure and Change. The cottage, on the other hand, is a place Dave knows intimately and is filled with stories from decades and generations past. To the left of the property is undeveloped Crown (government) land, to the right all but one of the next 6 cottages have been in the same family for longer than Dave has been alive. The island across from us is also owned by someone Dave has known his whole life. Dave’s Grandparents were best friends with our next-door neighbor’s grandparents. Being here is about having a ties to people and a place that tug at your soul.

Spending the last few months of our hiatus at the cottage was an important part of our plan. Which is particularly fitting given that Myra gave Dave some advice 20 odd years ago that ultimately led to this trip in the first place. Myra and OB had a great retirement by most standards, spending summers at the cottage and taking a trip or two every year. Even though she and OB had the means to do what they wanted, when they retired they were no longer physically able to do many of those things. And like many men back then, OB passed away in his mid 60’s. Myra’s advice to her grandson was to retire when you’re young and then go back to work when you’re older. Dave never forgot what she said.

Even if this isn’t where your grandparents started your life-long love affair with the water by giving you your first boat at age 8, you can’t help but feel the magic of this place. The lake itself is particularly beautiful and has what must be hundreds of islands and bays. You can barely see most of the cottages from the water. Hours can pass between hearing engine noises. The enormous trees are filled with song birds and the haunting loon calls echo across the lake.


Shut-Eye Shanty is the name Myra and OB gave the cottage. It was indeed a bit of a shack back in the day from what I understand. The original building measured about 20’x16’ which included two 8’x8’ bedrooms with no doors. The walls were unfinished pine slats that didn’t go up to the ceiling and were covered with turtle shells. OB was an avid sportsman. There was no electricity and the place was heated by a sooty oil stove. The “facilities” were an outhouse. It was painted white with a red door and green trim.

The property was only accessible by water until the early 1970’s when a controversial private road was built. Myra and OB refused to take the cushy route, however. Dave put in the first driveway. Back in the forest OB used to stash bottles of liquor under rocks and the property was dotted with little signs saying things like “Beware of Nudes!”. The Rumbolds were clearly hearty Germans with a sense of humor.

Since then 4 additions have been built and the cottage is now a massive 800 square feet give or take. Don’t laugh. Before the boat trip we spent hours discussing how to make the place livable by building/expanding new rooms. Now we think “maybe a second bedroom, someday”. Electricity, plumbing and drywall were added long before I came on the scene.

The other night I was looking out at the lake after Dave went to bed (it is still light up here at 10 pm) and the bullfrogs in our bay began croaking loudly. It was more like a song really, the male and female frogs make distinct sounds that are almost a harmony. I thought I remembered that a shanty could also be a song and decided that the cottage was named for the sound the frogs make at night, like a lullaby. Today I found an old dictionary of Myra’s (inscribed in 1920) and looked up shanty. Indeed, one of the definitions is Sailors Song. That clinched it.