August 22: Over the last few weeks I have been trying to come to grips with the emotion of selling Regatta Island. The decision to buy the island was driven by my heart, not my head The purchase required me to withdraw a substantial amount of money from my longer term investment accounts, and that left a limited pool of funds to do the actual work on the cottage. Had I thought more carefully about the impact that decision would have, I might not have gone through with the purchase in the first place. Very early on I decided that the 5 year term of the mortgage would be a time horizon for “phase one” of the work; if funds permitted we would carry on.
I took possession of the island in August of 2021 and was immediately shocked by the state of the cottage. It had clearly not been cleaned for many years. There was water raining through the ceiling of the south bedrooms, and a Red Squirrel was living indoors and nesting in one of the mattresses. There was no real “furniture” beyond three beds, several old kitchen tables and more than a dozen wooden chairs. The kitchen was a bar sink in a piece of counter top, a fridge, a stove, and a table acting as counter space. The bathroom had a compost toilet and a small sink. The “septic system” consisted of a greywater outfall somewhere on the island.
We immediately relocated the squirrel, cleaned up as much of the debris and dirt as we could, and had a roofer put a new roof on the place. At least it felt more secure and protected as we left for the winter. Over that first winter I learned about Ruth McLean, who spent more than 50 years vacationing at the cottage. It had been built by her Grandfather and passed from her to her daughter-in-law who sold it to me.
In the following years I had a septic system installed, built a kitchen in the former outdoor porch and had a new water intake and filtration system installed to serve the kitchen and bathroom. We reconstructed the front deck which had essentially rotted through, and added a new deck with space for a BBQ and a dining table at the back. We finished some of the walls and, after the winter storms, there was always a fair bit of tree trimming and wood that had to be cut up.
As I did this work I would frequently think of Ruth and wonder how she would feel about what I was doing. Would she be upset that I was somehow destroying her happy place ? I feel the spirit of Ruth alive and present in the cottage. I can see that heritage in the 100 year old taxidermy deer on the wall, the penciled makings on the former kitchen wall marking the kids growth over the decades, and the original ice box from the ’20’s.
The new owners take possession on August 28 and will begin the process of deciding what they want the cottage to be. They will bring their own esthetic and interpretation to the cottage. It will not be my vision, but theirs. It feels something like losing the woman you love deeply to another man, knowing that she is leaving and that her life may in fact, be better with him. There is loss and yet hope that she will be happier in the end.
So it’s a melancholy feeling to leave the cottage, perhaps never to return. It’s been an emotional and all-consuming ride for me over the last 5 years and it will be sad to have to move on. My hope is that the new owners feel as strongly about the place as me, and that they too say hello to Ruth from time to time.