Fun, sun, surf and sand

There are two sharply contrasting regional dune beaches that deserve acclaim.

Three hours southeast of Winnipeg last summer, Pat from Border View Lodge north of Baudette, Minn., explained how to navigate our big rented boat out of the Rainy River to our destination: Lake of the Woods’ 10-kilometre-long international Sable Islands — not to be confused with Nova Scotia’s Sable Island.

“Given the bad weeds, keep right,” Pat directed. “Left at the bend. With the waves, then go right. And left to the beach.”

Something like that.

I signed a form confirming I fully understood. I whispered to Margie, “Got that?”

I then drove into the bad weeds. We hurriedly tilted the motor — now a weed wacker. I asked Margie, “Did Pat say, ‘Left, then right?’”

She replied, “What?”

A boat whisked by. We mercifully followed to wide-open waters.

Folks consider Lake of the Woods as a lake of, um, woods. But its Big Traverse Bay presents a boundless seascape, framed on its southeast by the Sable Islands.

Nearing the islands, we encountered wind-whipped waters so shallow we abandoned plans to land. I announced, “We’ll cruise to Ontario’s Sable Islands over there.”

Margie demanded, “You can’t cross the border!” I obeyed to avoid mutiny.

I docked without perforating our vessel — and cheered. Margie realized, “It’s not our dock!” We tied up anyway because she had to anxiously “bip” to the washroom.

Fun fact: Border View’s “restroom” doors announce “Spermers” and “Spawners.” Other local lodge doors announce “Buoys” and “Gulls,” or “Inboards” and “Outboards.”

Our adventure proves it’s best to take a small “tinner” boat or canoe to the Sable Islands, and preferably from Canada. Brother-in-law Dan from Emo, Ont., knows the way: strap a canoe onto your vehicle and drive 30 minutes north on Highway 600 from the Baudette-Rainy River border crossing and then west to Kreger Road’s end where a boat launch cuts through bush.

We paddled just half an hour to Ontario’s Sable Islands Provincial Park. Shimmering dunes interrupt irrepressible west winds. Waves roared on the other side.

Three eagles awaited in one of the few trees. The archipelago also hosts other bird species and tiny toads that scatter chaotically. Great joy would be sneaking a toad into someone’s sleeping bag or, on this day, into the picnic basket. However, these toads leapt too fast.

A Northwestern Ontario tourism association claims the Sable Islands are “world-renowned.” But this Eden evades humankind. It’s a forsaken powdery paradise. I exclaimed, “Nobody’s here!” Margie retorted, “Speak for yourself.”

We trekked for an hour on the finest sand. The beach is so white it doesn’t hold heat from the blazing sun. I then waded far out to swim.

The expanse offers an unfettered runway for winds to work themselves up into bold white waves. Diving toward those waves recalled oceanside days. And we picnicked in the serenity, finding a soft spot in some rare shade.

Although the island was lacking amenities — contrary to Camping Life Canada’s fanciful website — Margie remarked, “Next time, let’s bring sleeping bags!” I thought, “A-ha! Another chance with my toads.”

I later discovered that camping is prohibited.

Canoeing back, we couldn’t discern our boat launch. Margie pointed far from our route, shouting, “It’s way back there!” Steering, Dan stayed the course as I eyed a shiny object behind bushes and said, “But then, whose vehicle would that be?” Tip: after a tiring day, bite your tongue.

The other great regional dune beach is Lake Winnipeg’s Grand Beach — Winnipeggers’ favoured sunspot. While it needs regular “surf raking” to remove shells, and algae-causing nutrients that flow into Lake Winnipeg must be better addressed, Grand Beach ranks among the world’s best.

The East Beach is quieter and dog-friendly. Its dunes reign among Manitoba’s most iconic locales. Some are as high as 12 metres.

Complementing interpretive signs about salamanders, toads and frogs, a garter snake crossed our path to the beach. An oncoming woman shrieked like it was a boa. Hey, how about sneaking a snake into a picnic basket?

The West Beach is where throngs of coconut-scented sun worshippers arrive early to stake their spots. It features wheelchair access, a busy volleyball area, good change rooms and showers. Behold bouncing beach balls, flying frisbees, tents, umbrellas, wagons and laughter. For entertainment last summer, some guy tossed popcorn to attract a swarming rave of diaper-less seagulls. Keep calm and carry on.

Find quality vendors for souvenirs and beachwear, plus good eateries. The popular Gray’s Station boasts: “…enjoy our huge portions cooked in the freshest grease around.” Many agree with its other ad: “Gray’s Station serves up the best burgers and fast food in Manitoba!”

Folks talk louder at the beach — maybe there’s water in their ears — so you’re privy to key personal details. But I don’t always listen. Not always. Margie fills me in.

A boy sifted sand through his fingers. He exclaimed to his pal, “This is pure sugar, so what should we make?” The friend answered, “A military base!”

Three children lingered in the water. The tallest, by three feet, challenged the others, “Let’s see who can walk out farthest!” Thankfully, her challenge went unanswered.

I refused to kick over two sand castles, despite a taunting voice in my head. But I did sprinkle water on Margie as she lay half-asleep. She demanded, “Was that YOU?” I responded, “What? Mind your own business!” I think I got away with it — but then realized there was no one else strolling nearby. I remain on guard.

Leaving, I told a chap, “Great day for the beach, eh?”

He barked, “Too many people!”

I thought, “Have I got a beach for you!”

P.S. I took samples of sand from the Sable Islands and Grand Beach to compare the granules. After careful analysis with a magnifying glass, each was equally fine. Thank goodness, because — duh — I forgot which sample was which.

gordmackintosh9@gmail.com