I imagine that we all have idyllic places from our past that we hold dearly in ours hearts. Scales Island in Lake of the Woods, Canada is one such place for me. It was owned by my cousins’ grandpa, “Doc” Scales. I have many fond memories of vacations spent there exploring the 5 acre island of wonders. My first trip was when my father and mother flew me up there at just 11 days old in our single engine Beechcraft Bonanza. The legend goes that Doc Scales held me the entire trip home since I was so young. He was one of the physicians who gave me the motivation to pursue a medical career by his example of caring and compassion. In the years of my youth, It was a great gift to spend time with extended family out in nature’s glory.
As kids we had every inch of the island mapped out and named for its significant feature. There was a small sandy area we used as a beach, a mossy log for relaxing and a wild blue berry patch where we could gather luscious berries for pancakes. I happened to be the unlucky one who sat down on a sandy spot unaware that it was a giant ant hill. I don’t think I have ever stripped off a pair of pants any quicker than I did at that time to kill the numerous ants biting me under my clothes! My cousins laughed about this for years.
One beautiful, sunny day while up at Scales Island in 1969, plans were made for my parents with my Uncle Chuck and Aunt Diane to go out on a sailboat owned by the Salvador’s who lived on a neighboring island. The grandfathers, Doc and my grandpa Earl were planning to take the older grandchildren fishing. This included my cousins Brad and Mona and myself. My sister Beth and cousin Sheryl were judged to be too wild for fishing so they stayed on the island with Grandma Mazo and Grandma Rose Alta.
Everything was going well until we began to see dark clouds forming across the bay and the wind began to pick up. We had seen the sailboat carrying our parents in the distance. Suddenly we couldn’t see the bright white sail on the horizon any longer. We realized that the sailboat had turned over in the harsh wind. A decision was made by our grandfathers to travel to the sailboat to see if we could help the situation. It took some time to motor across the bay to them since we were only in a small fishing boat. Little did we know then but the sailboat had capsized and was completely upside down. My Uncle Chuck was able to pull my Aunt Diane out from the cabin as the sailboat went over but my mother was trapped underneath. Luckily there was an air pocket left for her to breath since she tried several times to swim out but couldn’t because she became tangled in the ropes and sail. Bill Salvador was able to swim under to bring her to safety while we were yet motoring to their aid. When we arrived I remember seeing my dad sitting on the hull of the boat and my mom, Aunt Diane and Lucia Salvador trying to stay afloat in the cold Canadian lake water. We were able to get my Aunt Diane into the boat and were attempting to come around to pick up my mom and Lucia when the boat was accidentally put in reverse. My mom dove under the water to escape the propeller but Lucia was too close. The thick Canadian sweater she wore caught in the boat’s propeller stopping the motor. The men untangled her not knowing how badly she was injured and were able to get her into the boat. We made our way back to Salvador’s island with heavy waves lapping up over the sides of the boat. The air was sharp and brisk unlike the beautiful, warm morning earlier in the day. My cousins and I were shaking from fear and the cold, too upset to even speak. We were able to get our small vessel to the dock and Lucia into her home for Doc to examine her wounds.
As we waited for what seemed like an eternity, my cousin Mona and I walked outside holding onto each other while tears flowed down our cheeks. We didn’t talk much but prayers were being lifted up to heaven by our young hearts for Lucia’s wellbeing. When we were told that Lucia’s sweater had saved her from any open wounds, we were greatly relieved. She had deep bruising under her skin but no more serious injuries! We were in a remote area, far from emergency medical care. It would have been extremely difficult for Doc to treat her even with his medical expertise if she had had a serious back injury. A miracle had happened before our eyes!
A seemingly inconsequential choice of whether to take a heavy sweater while sailing had made all the difference between life and possibly death that day. I’ve often heard it said that coincidences are situations that appear to be random chance but are really God choosing not to make His presence known. Did I feel that this coincidence was random then or now? Absolutely not!
In the Bible, it was customary for people to build an altar or monument at the spot where they had encountered God. Jacob did this after he wrestled all night with God and prevailed. His name was changed to Israel that day because he was a changed man. When I have encountered God up close and personal, I may not build a physical altar to Him but a place of remembrance is set up in my heart. The hand of God was with us that day long ago in the cold waters of Lake of the Woods, Canada. This will remain a sacred place in my heart forever.
