Swimming Across Loon Lake

Published on June 5, 2017June 5, 2017 by Kathy Baker

In August of 1929, an article entitled “Maqua Leader Swims Length of Loon Lake” appeared in a local paper. “Kathryn Gudscheinsky, a Camp Maqua counselor, swam two miles in fifty-one minutes to the opposite shore, but the high waves made the journey longer for her return. Without a pause on that shore, she made it back in one hour and fourteen minutes.”

Edna Young, who remembered her one-piece wool bathing suit in 1932 at camp, swam the entire length of the lake at age twelve “camp to camp”. As a junior counselor, she taught swimming and said many of the girls used to swim the lake, but very carefully. “I always wanted to swim and I knew how to swim and had great instructors. I got my junior lifesaving certification through the Red Cross program, ” said Edna.

Camper Marsha Immerman (1947-53) remembered the older girls swimming across the lake, accompanied by a rowboat. Still worrying about the weeds in the middle of the lake and the leeches, she managed to swim the length despite her fears.

“I learned to swim at the high school and I could walk there, so I was a good swimmer and I was always proud of that,” said Carolyn Stanton (1947). “I couldn’t see because I was nearsighted, but I didn’t need to see to swim. I think I got glasses around the sixth grade because I remember I was the tallest girl in the class and I had to sit in the front row to see the board. I never got any leeches on me, but I do remember I swam across the lake with another girl and a counselor rowing beside me.”

Lifesaving Drills and Certification

Published on May 31, 2017May 31, 2017 by Kathy Baker

There were always extensive waterfront activities with qualified safety and life-saving instructors for swimming and boating. The Dept. of Social Serivces for the state inspected the camp yearly. In 1971 their report listed eleven water safety instructors and four lifesavers, which meant the camp was under excellent supervision. It noted a human chain was formed, in case of a lost swimmer, where runners are sent to the units.

Julie Bernard was one of the counselors in training that summer. “I was one of the CIT’s that yelled line up and dive, as we formed the line out in the water for the Red Cross Cerification drills. We had to swim under the dock and find whatever was hidden to recreate a body rescue. There was an emergency bell that rang and we would all run to the waterfront, stripping our clothes off as we ran, using our eyes and arms in the murky water of Loon Lake to find it.”

“I remember taking a junior lifesaving from a, shall we say, rather large counselor,” said Carolyn Waits (1955-57). “When I was taking the final test, where I had to dive down, turn her around in the water, then come up for a lifesaving hold, she managed to turn around while I was on my way up and grab me around the neck. I found out later that she had supposedly had greased her body, sho that our hold wouldn’t take! Oh, the stories we believed,” laughed Carolyn.

Debra Osher admitted that her personal stories were sometimes negative at the time, but her senior lifesaving story from 1960’s was laughable now. She was instructed to run down the hill when she heard the “victim” screaming for help, fully clothed. As she ran, she was to shed her clothes. She recalled how anxious she was, but she did as she was instructed.

The Buddy Board–

Published on May 29, 2017May 24, 2017 by Kathy Baker

Visual aids from the Red Cross for boating and swimming, bulletin boards with pertinent articles to the waterfront, and charts such as “Swim and Stay Fit” or “Basic Survival” hung in and around the boathouse during Nancy Sautter’s 1969 waterfront director days. Even charts with the swimmer’s progress to boost enthusiasm graced the doors near the all important buddy board.

There was a drill, under her careful direction, for the protection and safety of all the girls under her watch. The bell would ring at 4:30 and the buddies would line up by the board. A diagram showed the assigned spots for qualified staff, and they were instructed not to talk to anyone, but to be on guard. One person was assigned to the board to check the swimmers in. Rings and buoys were at the end of the “L” dock and inside the lifeboat.

The swimmers attached their tags on the same hook together under the area in which they were swimming. Each level had to swim in the appropriate area according to their swim level, except area four, and they could swim anywhere. They all had to swim in doubles or triples.

Once the girls turned their tags, they grabbed their bathing caps and sat near the fire circle. (Area two was green, area three was blue and area four was yellow.) They were instructed to line up according to cap colors to be counted in their double buddy lines. There was a buddy check every six to eight minutes. A whistle system was in place with two whistles for buddy check, one to continue their swimming and three meant out of the water immediately!

Bloodsuckers, Mud Puppies and Swimmer’s Itch

Published on May 24, 2017February 20, 2017 by Kathy Baker

“I grew up one block from the Saginaw Bay, so I learned to swim at the “Y”. I remember seeing my first leech at Maqua and I was mystified. The girls would swim under one dock to another and I can still hear the girls screaming don’t swim under there—there are leeches! I never got any on me,” said Ann Meisel, whose only lake critter spotted in the sixties was a crayfish.

For Doris Engibous, the summers flew by and would be over before she knew it. Camping in the sixties and seventies, she turned down her parent’s membership perks at the Midland Country Club. “I didn’t want to go. I liked Maqua, even with the mucky lake bottom, the leeches and worrying about whether the canoe paddles would get stuck in the water lilies and that we wouldn’t make it back in time.”

A camper who did take advantage of a neighborhood pool, Jenifer Penzien (1969-71), knew how to swim when she attended camp. “I remember I was in the third swimming area, which was the level you could sail, but I also remember those leeches that I was so afraid of, and of course, I got one. I thought it was so gross, but no one seemed very excited about it, they just ran and got the salt.”

Kathleen Clement’s Dad threw her off a dock and told her to “sink or swim” when she was two, so she swam. She also had her Red Cross swimming certification by the time she was at camp in the early sixties. “I can remember the leeches in the reeds by the dock when we first got in the water. These things would be attached to my leg and the counselors would use hot match sticks (blown out) or salt shakers to get them off.”

Leeches and What Lurked Under Water

Published on May 22, 2017May 21, 2017 by Kathy Baker

Those dreaded “blood suckers”. Out of all the scary experiences relayed to me by the campers, it was the number one fear. It is as if the little girl nightmare of the monster in the deep could still reach up and grab a leg and attach themselves to poor innocent camping swimmers in Loon Lake. Grab the salt or scream or do both! (By the way they are still there, and the salt is still in the boathouse.)

When asked what she remembered most vividly about camp, Barb Krohn (1970-72) yelled, “Those damn leeches!” Although she was a good swimmer, she was like all the other little campers—not very tall.

“I would try to tread water in one foot of water, “ she laughed as she remembered not wanting to touch the bottom of the lake. “People would carry me out, so I wouldn’t have to put my feet down. I was a strong swimmer, but I hated the leeches. I never got one on me.”

Her sister Kathy Krohn (1965-68) was also the youngest in her third grade and the shortest, but was a great little swimmer. She also hated to put her feet down in the mucky lake, and worried about the leeches, so the older girls would carry her and she would swim back in. To avoid the leeches, she would dive off the raft or dock.

“I learned to swim at camp, but the seaweed freaked me out,” said Cindy Morrison (1960). “I wouldn’t do the lifesaving because you had to dive down and pull up seaweed as part of the test and there was no way! The leeches. I didn’t like them either.”

Taking The Plunge in Cold Water!

Published on May 17, 2017May 17, 2017 by Kathy Baker

“I learned to swim at camp,” said Carol Requadt (1945), “and although I would hover in the background at the lake, there was a day I will never forget. I wasn’t getting what I needed as far as swimming instruction because I was shy. It was a cold day and the waterfront instructor was in the cold lake shivering, but she taught me everything. I earned my blue cap and could swim to the blue raft. I think I was the smallest one out there and I had a fear of the “blood suckers”, so that was my incentive to swim and not put my feet on the bottom of the lake. Swimming was everthing to me and that was the most wonderful day to me—the day I learned to swim in that cold water. I will never forget it. In fact, I swim to this day and it has been a life long passion.”

The leeches were a fear for a huge majority of the campers, but we will get to that at a later time. Swimming was traumatic for many of the girls for other reasons. Anne Duffield had a much gentler swimming experience in 1947 at camp, after a woman had tied a rope around her waist at the age of six and threw her into deep water.

Layla Rose Hennes was always an apprehensive swimmer. As a camper in 1939, she finally learned at camp, but never learned to love the water. Marge Niedzelski (1946-47) felt as though, (compared to her sister), she was not a good swimmer, but advanced far enough to use the canoes. Audrey Graff (1948) was excited at how long she could tread water and progressed to lifesaving.

Girls who hated to put their faces in the water or get their hair wet, like Kerry Weber, finally learned to swim in 1952 at camp. Janice Moore (1953) was just thrilled to place third in a sidestroke race.

Girls of Camp Maqua

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