Ice Diving in Ontario February 2007

The lengths we'll go for a little snow. Friday night Stephan and I fought our way up to the lovely riverside village of Rockport, Ontario to participate in the ice diving portion of the Rockport Winter Carnival. Our voyage was not without its trials, however. The snow was driving and horizontal in Oswego County, a white-out such that cars’ lights disappeared 40’ ahead of us, and Braille driving was the only reliable tool (ie swerve when you hit the buzz strip.) A slightly drippy coolant line was easily remedied, but we did lose an hour to some stoned slackers on the Syracuse campus, for whom a simple order of pizza and wings was way beyond their comprehension. Syracuse University is my alma mater, so you can just imagine how my chest swelled with pride. We persevered even in spite of my nipples freezing solid (they eventually thawed and I was able to use the windshield washer again.) We rolled into Rockport at 1am, too late for last call at the Boathouse Tavern but not too late to get a free beer from Eric the friendly local. The night was cold and crisp, and each star was etched in the sky. I was asleep five minutes after setting up the camper, nestled into my big ole down sleeping bag.

It was a pleasant surprise to awaken to temps had come up from the single digits into the 20’s, and with little wind it felt downright balmy. I was also glad that the ice hadn’t all cracked and floated away from Herr Franke’s jackhammer snoring, which was a real concern. The day started off brilliantly with a plate of pancakes and sausage at the Rockport Community Hall. Folks were very warm and friendly, and we even ran into someone we knew. A band played in the corner, two guitars and a banjo, doing the Flapjack Serenade in D Minor.

Wayne Green of Thousand Island Pleasure Diving organized the ice dive, and had a lovely heated trailer for us to change in, complete with benches and a thermos of hot cocoa. We went in right off a dock, as the ice is a bit thin, and a bubbler made it much easier to break through. The dive itself was more like a cave dive than an ice dive, in that we weren’t tethered. Rather, Wayne laid out an orange line 50 meters or so. On the one side was a dock, and over to the other was open water around the Rockport Boat Line’s cruise ship. So, there wasn’t anywhere much to get lost, and with better than 70’ visibility we could see the line at all times. I was trying out my cozy new 4th Element underwear, which fit underneath my Weezle suit. It was toasty Nirvana, 45 minutes on and still warm as can be. The light penetration was fantastic, and several immense schools of baitfish hung around the open water zone, their silvery bodies catching the light.

Wayne’s hospitality extended to inviting us back to his house for some stew afterwards with him, Captain Jim and girlfriend Cheryl. Terry Irvine had just finished a promotional dvd for him, a very professional-looking amateur job, so we were able to vicariously enjoy some of the wrecks up there as well. We were back on the road by three, and despite going through the white out again were home by 8.

This year was the 27th annual Ice Festival. Mark it on your calendars for next year, it is always the second Saturday of February. You’ll come for the ice diving, but you’ll stay for the frozen chicken bowling.