While trying to ignore [gestures vaguely in all directions] my wife and I decided to join her brother and sister-in-law at their campsite at Brown’s Bay near Gananoque, on the St. Lawrence River, home of the so-called Thousand Islands (I’m sure there are far more than a thousand). I’ve seen many of them from the Thousand Islands Bridge, which is a major Canada-US border crossing, but I’ve never spent much time there. And since I try never to go anywhere without my kayak (unless it’s wintertime of course) I decided to head out into the river from Brown’s Bay.
I knew from looking at Google Maps that the Canada-US border was partway across the river, which looked to be about five miles across where we were. Wouldn’t it be funny, I thought, if I paddled across the border and into the US? There were some interesting-looking islands that appeared to be fairly close (about 1.5 miles according to Google), so I paddled up the shore with the intention of paddling down-wind at an angle to get to the islands, since the waves seemed too heavy to risk going across the wind.
About halfway across the deeper part of the river (not the deepest, though, because the shipping lane that freighters use on the other side of the border is far deeper) I started to wonder whether I had made a mistake. The waves were quite high, with white caps every so often, and I was cutting at such an angle that they washed over me from time to time. And I didn’t have a skirt, so nothing to keep them from swamping the boat (I do know how to do a deep-water self-rescue in a kayak though, so please don’t be alarmed).
Anyway, to make a long story short, I made it to this little group of islands. One that might have been about an acre had a little yellow cottage and nothing else, and then on the US side there was a two-storey square building that I can only assume was resting on a tiny hunk of rock. What do they do when there are high waves, I couldn’t help wondering.
The next morning the river seemed calmer, so I paddled straight out about a mile and a half to another small island on the US side of the border that was barely bigger than the two-storey, suburban-looking home sitting on it. I looked it up later and it is called Pine Tree Island, and the house has three bedrooms and a sauna and sold in 2022 for about $650,000. It had a large boat berth on the leeward side that I assume made docking fairly easy.
That afternoon, I was not planning to do another paddle but I had looked up another island somewhat farther into the US than Pine Tree, because it clearly had a massive building on it. It turned out to be what’s now known as Dark Island, and the castle-like structure is the Singer mansion, built around the turn of the century by the founder of the Singer sewing machine empire. It was built about the same time as the Boldt Castle, a somewhat more well-known sight to anyone who has taken a boat tour of the Thousand Islands.
Apparently, the castle features 28 rooms, including bedrooms, bathrooms, a large drawing room, library, and kitchen and within the walls is a network of secret passageways that are accessible from various locations, one of which is a panel in the library that at one time could be opened by pulling a specific book from a nearby shelf, triggering the locking mechanism. After the heiress to the Singer fortune died, the Christian Brothers acquired the island, then sold it in 1965 to an Evangelistic Association. It was acquired in 2001 by Farhad Vladi, a German businessman who owns a real estate company that specializes in selling private islands.
The island looked to be about two-and-a-half miles offshore, but the river at that point was unnaturally calm — hardly any waves as far as the eye could see, barely even a ripple, and the sky was clear with high, wispy clouds. I couldn’t resist, so I paddled for about an hour on the mirror-like water until I got to the island. The castle was imposing, sitting up high on a hill, with towers and turrets and chimneys. I thought about getting out, but to be honest the site looked sort of dilapidated, and I wasn’t sure how safe it would be to be trespassing.
Also, while technically I was allowed to paddle into the US and back again without having to contact the authorities, my understanding of the rules is that it’s okay as long as your craft keeps moving, but as soon as you drop anchor or touch land, you’re supposed to call the nearest border office and report yourself. I didn’t really want to do that, and while I could probably have gotten away with it, I didn’t feel like risking it. So I waved goodbye to the US and paddled back to Canada. All in all, I think I paddled about 10 miles over those two days!
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