As a boy. I had two adventures in a canoe. When I was nine or 
     
     ten years old and while visiting with the McEachen family at their 
     
     summer cottage near Rocky Point, I went along with two McEachen 
     
     boys for a paddle on the entrance to Charlottetown Harbor. I was so 
     
     scared that I did no paddling but lay on the bottom of the canoe 
     
    
   
   
    
     during the entire short “voyage”. At least I must have had some 
     
     stabilizing effect for we arrived back safely. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Two or three years later my older brother and I “stole” a canoe 
     
     (owned by Ray Tinney and Orin MacGregor) from Brighton shore 
     
     and paddled across the North River to York Point. I still wonder 
     
     how, having no previous experience with a canoe, we managed to get 
     
     over and back (a distance of nearly two miles) without upsetting. I 
     
     think we must have practically held our breaths all the way. 
     
    
   
   
    
     And so the years went by and somehow there grew at the back of 
     
     my mind the idea of a trip around the Island in a canoe. The chal- 
     
     lenge of the idea as “something attempted” kept gnawing at me. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Finally in the late spring of 1934 I drove down to Halifax in my 
     
     old Model A Ford sedan. There at the Waegwoltic Club on the North- 
     
     West Arm I met Cliff Cotter who had his brother‘s canoe for sale. 
     
     The brother had been the Pilot of a plane in which he and Norman 
     
     Rogers, Minister of National Defence in MacKenzie King‘s Cabinet, 
     
     were killed when the plane crashed. Not being concerned about “ill 
     
     omen”, I bought the 16’ Old-Town Maine canoe complete with 
     
     cushions and paddles for the bargain price of $25. 
     
    
   
   
    
     With Cliff‘s help I lashed the canoe securely on the top of the 
     
     Model A and set off for Digby, NS At Bridgetown near Middleton, 
     
     NS, I bought a female English bulldog (from a Mr. Baker) whom I 
     
     named “Bo/o“ — so homely. From Digby, Bozo, the canoe and l 
     
     sailed for Saint IohrL N.B. by ferry and thence home to Tea Hill, 
     
     P.E.l., where we arrived home in perfect condition. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Something about my little green canoe made me think of the 
     
     little green jungle parrot and the little baby in Kipling’s “Without 
     
     Benefit of Clergy”, so I named the canoe “TOTA”.