“Visiting Sherwood Inn: 1943 and 2023” by Elizabeth Sime

Bag unpacked and I’m almost back to my normal routine, after a stimulating late October weekend at a writing retreat with Brian Henry at Sherwood Inn. The last time I was at Sherwood was in August 1943 during the second World War when I was ten.

My Father learnt about Sherwood Inn from Mr. Draper, a business associate from Bay Street in Toronto. Father was looking for a small Inn on Lake Joseph where he could take Mother and I for a week of day trips by canoe.  My parents’ main interests on this holiday were canoeing, good food, and staying in a friendly place with like-minded people. Mother was in agreement and I didn’t have a choice, but was looking forward to being in or on the water. 

Young Betsy Draper's dog Jet
in the formal dining room at Sherwood

Mr. Draper arranged for a red cedar strip canoe to be ready on the beach for our adventures. We brought our own paddles which were suitable for our height. Father always paddled stern and had a wider paddle. There were no life jackets in those days. I was dumped in deep water and taught to kick the canoe to shore. At ten, when I was learning to paddle, we stayed close to the shore. 

Each morning when not raining rattlesnakes we set out with a packed lunch for a day trip on the lake. There were lots of rocks and places to swim for our lunch time stops.  I was happy. Now, in 2023, it may be difficult to find a secluded spot for lunch, because of the number of large homes sitting close to each other on the lake.

In 1943 only a few simple cottages suitable for living in the bush could be found on Lake Joseph. In these cottages, there was no electricity other than provided for by a small generator for lights. There was an outhouse, a wood stove for cooking, and a box with a block of ice to keep food cool.  The cottages had large screened in porches to deal with the summer bug problem.

Mothers spent July and August with their children at the cottage enjoying nature away from city activities. In the 1940’s polio was on the rampage and it was safer for children to be out of the city.  The cooler breezes up north were better than spending the summer in the city without air conditioning. And, there was always a lake to jump into when it was hot. 

To get to Muskoka in 1943 was a journey. Some travelled by car and others by train. In those days 50 miles an hour was the speed limit on highways and Number 11 was the only road to the north. It went through the busy centres of all the villages and towns between Toronto and Muskoka. Gas was rationed but my father saved up enough coupons for the summer holiday trip to the north. 

At the slow speed of travel, we had time to absorb the change in landscape. I remember thinking when the highway went through the blasted rock-cut at Severn we are now in rock country.  The trees have changed to pine, spruce and hemlock. This was not a gradual change, suddenly we were in a different world. I felt as if I was really going to the north far away from city activities.

Thomas B. Costain, author of The Silver Chalice and
85 other novels on one of his many stays at Sherwood

Other guests would go by train to Gravenhurst and proceed by boat to Sherwood. I remember the supply boat coming to the main dock. I think it was called the Constance. The boat was a floating store to provide supplies to the few cottagers on the lake.  

On a rainy day, when we weren’t out paddling, I heard a bell ring when the boat was about to dock.  I ran down with twenty-five cents to buy two Neilson’s Burnt Almond Chocolate bars with blue wrappers. I even got five cents in return. Chocolate was a real treat during the War, as sugar was rationed. I ate one of the bars before I got to my parents to share my purchase.

We arrived at Sherwood late in the afternoon in time for dinner, tired after the long curvy drive from Toronto in our blue Plymouth.  Not like today when it only takes a couple of hours to speed along the straight 400.  At dinner, it was expected males would wear jackets and ties and females a dress. Even at home, my father always wore a tie and jacket for dinner and my mother changed from her daytime attire. For my family, this was a normal routine.

Artist Lawren Harris was another frequent
guest at Sherwood. The tranquility of the setting
attracted writers and artists – and still does. 

Customs have changed at Sherwood. In 2023, I brought a dressy sweater to wear at dinner just in case the dress code still existed.  I don’t own a dress or skirt anymore. The sweater went home unused, which was okay with me. This weekend the majority of guests were with me on the writing retreat. It was not necessary to change clothes between activities. Wearing something comfy was more important.  

Activities blended into each other. Breakfast, lecture time from Brian, rapid writes, one-on-one project discussion with Brian, lunch, more writing tips from Brian, then time to write. Dinner was at six, followed by a session on listening to pieces written by group members. The day was full.

I did have time to absorb some nature. I watched the lake changing from whitecaps one day to being like a mirror the next.  To stand under the tall majestic pines, smell and see a log fire each night at the front door reminded me I was staying in a northern forest. It was stimulating for me to spend time with like-minded people who shared a common interest in writing. Canoe tripping in 1943 and writing in 2023, were both very enjoyable experiences for me at an Inn where the personal touch is still important.  

***

Elizabeth Sime is a retired Public Health Nurse who practiced in the Yukon and Ontario. In her retirement she enjoys painting and writing. She is currently working on a memoir about her time with Indian and Northern Health Service in the 1950's.

For details of Brian's upcoming writing retreats at Sherwood Inn, see here.

See all of Brian’s upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and weekend retreats here.