Photo (by Sampie’s Brother in Law, Darren Riley): Later at the campsite he explained: “About two hundred meters toward the shore I noticed a a swirl in the water, then spray that was at least five meters in length. Suddenly, a large dark object briefly surfaced. I had the camera in hand so snapped one quick photo as I hollered at Sampi.”  By the time Sampi turned the water had calmed and the shadow was long gone.

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Chapter 5: Sampie Gets Hooked – The van Rensburg Story Begins

Darren hollered: “Sampie, get moving, it’s coming straight toward us!” Sampie: “I can’t Darren, the downriggers are still out, give me a second…”  Sampi was still hunched over replacing the line on his rod. Nicole was still busy admiring her catch, so both she and her dad were blissfully unaware of the approaching danger. These words were spoken less than 24 hours after admonitions to the Sampie and Darren to take great care while venturing forth on their first fishing trip on Cold Lake.

The van Rensburg story began in August 2009 while Lynn and I were camping at Cold Lake while visiting my sister Louise Yochim and her family. We chanced to meet a delightful young man from South Africa, Sampie van Rensburg, who set up camp in the site next to ours. Sampie, a gregarious man in his late thirties, was accompanied by his youngest daughter, Nicole, and his brother-in-law, Darren Riley. It was their first time visiting Cold Lake having heard many stories about the giant fish the filled these waters. 

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Photo (From the files of a High School friend and former workmate, Guy Venne).  The RCAF often moored their DHC-3 Otters at the main dock in Cold Lake and the above aircraft appears to be the same one that is the subject of this post.  Guy had taken several photos of the crash scene in French Bay, but all those photos were seized by the Air Force as part of their investigation.

 The three photos displayed in this story were also taken taken by Guy, one before the crash (above) and two after the craft had been towed to the main dock at Cold Lake. Damage to floats suggested a collision, but the Air Force had other ideas. The whole story was to become cloaked in secrecy (photos in footer).

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This week dinner and a movie took me on a trip to Langley to meet Christine whose young man is currently away for two week s at a job site.  We decided upon Black Swan as Christine has a fondness for theatre.

Our hopes were fading for dinner as every restaurant in the vicinity of the theatre had at least a forty-five minute wait.  Taking the bull by the horns I checked out Boston Pizza and found a young man sitting alone at a table for four and “low and behold” after a short conversation, he invited us to join him.   It was a most pleasant dinner with this young man was making a quick trip from Seattle to visit his young daughter.

Now, as for the movie “Black Swan”, it is not one I would recommend for the squeamish or the faint of heart.  It is a dark, psychological thriller, filled with repressed sexuality and parental control that borders on the psychotic.

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As with America, I expect many Canadians watched the State of the Union Address last night.  While I disagree with many things America does (or does not do, as the case may be) I do admire the way the country can get passionate about an ideal.
 
In Canada about the only time we ever see anything that approaches nationalist passion is at a sporting event and that occurs perhaps once or twice in a century.  The 1972 Canada/Russia Summit Series was my first memory of the real passion about being a Canadian.  Was that nearly 40 years ago?  Following that I had to wait until the Olympics to again capture the feeling. It was wonderful. The Canada/US hockey Gold Medal Final was beyond my wildest dreams but, unfortuately, it will likely the the penultimate event of this century.

On the political stage, the State of the Union provides an opportunity for America, through their President, to talk about where the country has been and where they might go in the future. The speech last night demonstrated that even bitter political opponents can occasionally agree and can even stand together and applaud. 

In Canada we have no such opportunity. We sleep our way through the interminable time between elections, then a precious few wake long enough to cast a ballot. Many, I suppose, might not even bother to look at the names on the ballot. 

A rousing speech by either Prime Minister Stephen Harper or would be Prime Ministers Michael Ignatieff or Jack Layton, should be sufficient to put the staunchest insomniac out cold. Oh, to have at least one evening of the year where we could glue ourselves to the TV and hear words about the great history of our nation, a nation with hugh challenges to face but also a nation that is passionate about new ideas and the future.

The thrill that would tickle through my spine to watch the four sides of our house periodically stand in unison and give a rousing applause to a speech by a Prime Minister from whatever party he might represent. Alas, that is not likely to be.

Oh Canada, We Stand on Guard for Thee!   Yes, always, because I know you love our Country as dearly as do I, but please, we need to show it more often and with more passion than once every 40 years for a hockey game.  Afterall, whose left now that we have beat Russia and the USA?

Harold McNeill
Victoria, BC   January 25, 2010

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Barney’s Version (2010 Release) based on a 1997 book by Canadian author, Mordecai Richler.

The best way I can think to describe this movie is by way of comparison to a piano keyboard. Assume for a moment that Middle C is the emotional centre of life.  Many might live most of their lives close to Middle C while others would move further toward the extremes, experiencing both greater highs and greater lows.  I rather suspect that to experience life to its fullest, it is necessary to move toward these extremes, after all, what does a significant gain mean if you have never suffered a significant loss? What does it mean to be rich if you have never been poor – in spirit, in love, in money or any other aspect of life?

Barney’s Version, staring Paul Biamatti as Barney and Dustin Hoffman as his father, Izzy Panofsky, will take you to the extremes and back several times during the 134 minute running time. You will laugh, you might even cry but, guaranteed, when the movie ends you will be forced to reflect upon the depth and meaning of your own life and the relationships you share in that life. You might even be tempted to move further outside your comfort zone.

From Lynn and me this movie gets four thumbs up.  We would be very interested in your thoughts.

Harold and Lynn

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Find out how an old friend managed to nail the thieves who were stealing gas from the company fuel storage tank.

The following incident happened in the early 2000s, was written in 2005 and posted in 2011 when this blog was first opened.  The man at the centre of the story, about eighty at the time, was a short and stocky and, along with his deep, gravelly, no-nonsense voice, these combined features lent an air of command and sincerity that drew people to him.  Before the story was published, Jack gave permission to use his name along with photos of he and his wife and their family home on a thirty-acre piece of property north of Victoria, British Columbia.

For over 50 years, Jack earned a good living blasting and building roads to mines and logging facilities over the length and breadth of Vancouver Island. He was an honest, hard-working man who would give his last dollar to someone in need but, steal or try to steal something from Jack and he could get his dander up in a hurry.

1. To Catch a Thief 

At 4:00 am it was overcast and pitch-black at the home of Start home when the driveway alarm Jack had linked to their doorbell roused him from his slumber.  He jumped from the bed and slipped on his boots while telling Ruthie, to just stay put as he would be back shortly. He grabbed his shotgun and while still in his pyjamas opened the door knowing no one would be standing there.

Jack was almost certain tonight was the night he would catch himself a thief. He wasn’t angry, hell, he wasn’t even nervous as he walked to his truck and climbed in, he was a man on a mission. Even though he had just turned eighty, he was still not willing to let those thieving bastards continue to drive away with his gas. If the RCMP could not catch them, come hell or high water, Jack would do the job for them. He started the engine, jammed this heavier work truck in gear and set out heading up his along winding driveway towards the shop area.

The Start home (photo left) was situated on an isolated acreage overlooking Brentwood Bay, a half kilometre below the Malahat Drive section of the Trans Canada about three kilometres northeast of Goldstream Park. Nestled in a grove of tall evergreens and surrounded by manicured lawns, the home was perched on the edge of a cliff that dropped 150 meters to the dark, cold waters of Brentwood  Bay.

Photo (personal files):  Looking down the winding driveway towards the Start home.  The fuel storage area and workshop was located in a secluded area about 100 meters further up the slope. The truck in the driveway is his general use pick-up, not his heavier work truck with a winch on the front.

When looking out their living room window at night, the glow of light filtering into the clouds and mist above Greater Victoria, some 20 kilometres due south, added to the sense peacefulness of the area. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional sounds of traffic moving along the Malahat.

In the 1960’s Jack and Ruth selected this thirty-acre property to build their dream home as much for the spectacular view as for the abundant wildlife that Jack and Ruth nurtured with loving care. On any given day when travelling down the long winding driveway, it was evident the deer and all manner of other animals and birds loved this location as Jack made twice-weekly trips to Victoria to pick discarded vegetables and fruit at Thrifty Foods in Broadmead.

However, life on the property was not always as peaceful as Jack and Ruth had hoped. Over the years and particularly in the last several months, thieves had been making regular night-time visits to Jack’s workshop and fuel area about 300 meters up his driveway towards the Malahat.  He had never installed gates or fences as he wanted the wild life to have free range of the property.

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The Big Kinosoo: Origin of the Legend – Chapter 1 of 6

Photo (Web Source): Fishing on Cold Lake in the Early Years

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Cold Lake, Late 1800s

The following short excerpt is taken from a story by J.B. Minoose¹, a friend of our family, Dave and Laura McNeill.  We lived not far from Mr. Minoose and his family while our family was at the Martineau River logging Camp in the mid-1940’s. This was followed by two years at North Bay (Smith Place) on the North side of Cold Lake, then two years at Marie Lake which was 15 miles west of North Bay (reference Family Stories 1940 -1965).  The Minoose story appears in Treasured Scales of the Kinosoo, a history of families in Cold Lake edited by Laura Dean Skarsen. Laura Dean Skarsen, was sister-in-law of our step-father, Wilfred Skarsen and our mother Laura Isabel Skarsen (McNeill) (Wheeler).  J.B. Minooses (standing, second from right in photo) spoke of his life in Cold Lake:

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Laura Isabel: The Final Chapter 5 of 5

In 2000, after 35 years on the farm, Laura and Wilfred bade a tearful farewell and moved to a home in Cold Lake just a few blocks from Frank and Louise. The move was initially difficult for Wilfred as he had lived on the farm for over 60 years. However, once in their new home, the couple again worked hard on the lawns and gardens and created a neighbourhood gem.

Having become accustomed to the large deck that Frank and Wilfred built on the farm house after it was moved to the new farm site, Wilfred, Harold, Kari (McNeill) and Ashley (Yochim) constructed a large deck on their new home, a deck that continued to provide years of enjoyment for family and friends. Sadly, in 2002, after a lingering illness, Wilfred passed away in the Cold Lake hospital and is much missed by his family and friends. We shall always treasure those years on the farm.

Photo: Laura had a lifelong love affair with flowers. From the very earliest years on the homestead until the day she passed away in 2008, her house was always surrounded by flowers every summer.

While the passing of Wilfred brought to a close another chapter in the extraordinary life of Laura, true to her pioneer spirit, she continued her winning ways with a “warm welcome” for anyone who might chance to pop by for a coffee or home made pie or pastries.  While Laura scaled back in some areas she continued to maintain a wonderful array of flowers and always had fresh baked bread and pastries for her family and friends. As she is fond of saying: “I love my Bosch” and she used it almost everyday to whip up a little something. Who can ever forget a big helping of her homemade bread and gravy or those buns that have became legend within the family?

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