Along the Shores of Lake Superior

Along the Shores of Lake Superior

Miscellaneous Trip Journals

by

Quimby Family & Friends

1906-1951

Compiled by

T. Bart Quimby

with the assistance of

John & Lorraine Quimby

Gretchen Neeley (Quimby)

April 2013

Published by T. Bart Quimby at Smashwords

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Copyright © 2013 by T. Bartlett Quimby

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods which results in any person or entity being charged for this material. No one except the publisher is to profit from this publication.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface – 2013

Preface – 1990

My First Trip to the Mouth of the Amnicon River (1906)

By Wallace L. Quimby

A Week on the South Shore of Lake Superior (1917)

By Wallace L. Quimby

By Canoe from Duluth to the Apostle Islands (1942)

By Tom and John Quimby

Journal of Isle Royale Trip (July 23 Aug 1, 1945)

Author unknown

Hermit Island Trips

Trip to Hermit Island (1907)

By Wallace L. Quimby

Comments on Trip to Hermit Island (1907)

By Russell G. Maynard

A Hermit Island Development

By Wallace L. Quimby

Hermit Island Pilgrimage – Twenty-two years after (1929)

By Wallace L. Quimby

Hermit Island Revisited – Thirty-one years later (1938)

By Wallace L. Quimby

A Hermit Island Checkup – Forty years later (1947)

By Wallace L. Quimby

The Island is Still There – Forty-four years later (1951)

By Wallace L. Quimby

Prologue

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Preface - 2013

As mentioned in the original preface, this compilation of stories has been assembled primarily for the benefit of the descendants of Wallace Leland Quimby, who wrote most of these accounts. It is hoped that these stories will allow his descendants to have a glimpse of some of their heritage which has contributed to who they are. Very few of us are untouched by the character and interests of our progenitors.

Secondarily, the stories seem to have some value as entertainment and as a look at what is was like to live in the Duluth/Lake Superior area a hundred years ago.

Originally we ‘published’ these stories in two different pamphlets as the stories came to light. In this edition, we combine all the stories that we were able to find. Additionally, a greater effort has been made to make limited grammatical changes and to fix obvious misspellings.

I wish to acknowledge the contributions of my Aunt Lorraine Quimby, wife of John L. Quimby and daughter-in-law of Wallace Leland Quimby. Lorraine passed these stories and other family records to me as she approached the end of her life. The short hours we spent discussing these stories and other family history are precious memories of mine. As she passed away just months ago, I will miss her and her store of family history greatly. There are not many left in her generation in the Wallace L. Quimby family.

Whatever value these stories are to you, I sincerely hope that you will find these accounts interesting.

Happy reading,

T. Bartlett (Bart) Quimby

Eagle River, Alaska

April 2013

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Preface - 1990

Since finding the stories contained in this volume while visiting John and Lorraine Quimby in South Carolina in 1976, it has been my intention to combine them into one volume and distribute them to the rest of the family. It has only taken 14 years. A couple of years ago, Gretchen and I typed the stories (Gretchen did three of the four) and they have been sitting around awaiting the finishing touch. The finishing touch has involved the typesetting, printing and binding. The impetus to complete this project has come with access to a high quality laser printer and the idea that this would make a nice Christmas present for the extended family.

Concerning the stories... Several of the original documents have photographs and maps attached to them. My collection of these attachments is incomplete and of poor quality. As a result of this, and the fact that I have little time to complete this project, they are not included. It has been (and still is) my intention to contact John & Lorraine to see about correcting this deficiency. When and if I ever do, a second edition to this volume will be published. In the mean time, it is best that these stories be disseminated as is rather than gathering dust in my computer.

Note that these stories are essentially as they appear in the original documents with minor corrections made to spelling and, on a rare occasion, to the grammar. An effort has been made to proof read these stories, albeit a little rushed, however I still expect there are some typographical and transcription errors. When you find some, please note them and send me the corrections. The corrections will be made to any future editions. A blank page or two is left at the end of each story for you to record notes of items that should be included in the next edition.

I would like to add additional volumes to this one, each containing interesting stories from our family history. If anyone has written journals of interesting experiences, please send them to me and I will include them in a future volume.

These stories have been fun to read. They have helped me to gain some insight into the personalities of my own family members, some of which are no longer with us. It is interesting to see some the same traits in our ancestors that we still have today. We are, to an extent, the product of our heritage. Knowing that heritage should help all of us to feel proud of who we are.

I hope that you enjoy these stories as much as I have.

T. Bartlett Quimby

Eagle River, Alaska

12 December 1990

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My First Trip to the Mouth of the Amnicon River

By Wallace Leland Quimby

During the summer of 1906 I had worked as time keeper and weigh master at Pittsburgh Coal Dock #2 (formerly Pioneer Coal Co.). At eighteen years of age I had not yet learned to talk back to the boss in the same manner that he talked to me. In late September after a flurry of charges and counter charges I was fired with some caustic remarks about a fresh red headed kid.

At home my parents were enraged over my losing my job and in general it seemed that everyone was bent on making life uncomfortable for me. I decided that this was a good time to take the camping trip about which I had been dreaming. From Albert Boden I borrowed a very well built clinker row boat which he had constructed in connection with his manual training course at high school. Boden also loaned me his 12 gauge double barreled shotgun. From someone else I borrowed a forty five revolver. Russell Maynard loaned me a tent and pack sack. I had in my possession two heavy blankets and a pea jacket which were the property of the Minnesota Naval Reserve.

I assembled a supply of groceries which I estimated would be sufficient for one week. I remember that I also had a lantern, a supply of candles, several books and magazines.

The other member of the party and my good companion was my dog Fido. We had Fido about eight years previously when he was two years of age and he usually accompanied me on short outings. Fido was a cross between a cocker spaniel and a water spaniel and was beautifully marked in two shades of brown. He had exceedingly long floppy ears and his intelligence was evident in his expressive face. At ten years of age he had acquired real wisdom.

Bert Boden kept his boat at the head of the Sixth Avenue slip beside Patterson's Boat Livery. Patterson made a business of renting row boats. Duluth Boat Club had been located next to Patterson's place before moving to Park Point two years earlier. Boden's boat was kept under a dock and pulled up on a shelving fill under this dock. With a chain and padlock he had the boat fastened to one of the piles supporting the dock.

On a bright sunny day in late September I carried my groceries and some other equipment down to the boat and hid them in the rubble near the dock. I went back for some more equipment and when I returned found all of my first load was gone. Patterson had been watching me and came over to see what had been disturbing me. He told me that he had found my supplies and equipment and carried then over to his boat house. He said he had found my supplies and assumed that they had been hidden by some water front thieves.

It was mid afternoon before I got organized and started rowing along Park Point. I headed for Allouez Bay. Opposite the Boat Club I stopped briefly and admired the boats, canoes, motor boats, and sail boats. My thoughts were what a great privilege it would be to be connected with that organization.

Further down the Point, I stopped to look from out in the Bay at the Anneke summer home located about a quarter of a mile south of the end of the streetcar line. That rambling log structure at the top of the sand bank with a view of both the Lake and the Bay appealed to me as the world's most desirable residence. Some members of the family, or perhaps guests, were busy around two or three boats moored to their substantial dock.

A chill evening had arrived by the time that I was pulling through the channels leading through the swamp at the lower end of Allouez Bay. For my destination I had in mind a spot where I had picnicked a couple of years before. I easily found the small cleared space and headed for shore. Unfortunately I had arrived during one of those infrequent spells of low water. About fifty feet from shore the boat stuck in the mud and I could make no further progress rowing or poling the boat. I peeled off my clothes and went overboard to pull the boat ashore. This was more of a job than I had anticipated as I went almost waist deep in the mire. After a half hour of pulling and tugging I finally made the shore. At this place Wisconsin Point is less than 100 yards in width so my first act was to dash over to the lake and wash off the swamp muck with which I was plastered. By this time it was getting dark and I looked for a spot to pitch my tent. Along the Bay side (swamp at this point) there were dense thickets of alder bushes approximately eight feet high. A narrow path led into one of these thickets from the small clearing where I had landed. Entering the path and taking a few steps I came on a cleared spot in the thick alders where someone had camped. The tent ridge pole was in place on two end upright poles, side stakes were lying on the ground and clean fresh hay a foot or more in depth covered more than half of the space where the previous tent had stood. In a matter of minutes I had my tent tied up to the ridge pole, the sides staked down and a real cozy shelter established. From the Lake shore, not much over 100 feet away, it was easy to gather arms full of small drift wood. A half hour after landing I was boiling potatoes and frying ham. Soon I was feasting on this, topped off with a can of tea. I had a special tin pie plate for Fido and shared my food with him. Fido had a rather worried disdainful attitude at the time I started to wallow around in the swamp muck to get the boat ashore and his expression was one of disapproval until I got the tent up and started to prepare food. Then he began to perk up,