For 15 years Russell Dearmont, president of Missouri Pacific, and a number of his St. Louis friends have taken summer fishing trips to Ontario. This summer they flew to Miss Barbara Machin's camp at Shoal Lake, 40 miles from Kenora—half a dozen leading business men who fished for walleyes and Great Northern pike, ate lunch outdoors, played bridge at night. Dearmont, generally called Senator because he was once a state senator, figured in the main wilderness experience of the camp when he chased a swimming moose. Every vacation produces its classic views for family albums, differing in background and characters, but, like these, summoning up the wilderness that attracts Americans each summer like a fragment of their national past still persisting into modern times.
Dearmont with guide and Ed Clark of Southwestern Bell in classic album pose
Dearmont, whacking a blundering moose with an oar, drove it away from spot he was fishing
Businessman Hobbs slices potatoes
...and President Clark chops wood
A good cook, Widower Dearmont cooks for his family on Sunday and shown helping with steak cookout for his camp friends
Roscoe Hobbs of Hobbs-Western Co. with Dearmont and Clark
Nightly card games relaxed fishermen. Harshest comment recorded of Bridge Expert Dearmont of his pokerplaying partner Hobbs: 'If you'd only read Goren!"
FAIR LADY; FOUL SEA
Ever since the schooners Henrietta, Vesta and Fleetwing raced from New York to Cowes, England in 1866 for a $90,000 pot, transatlantic ocean racing has been recognized as a hardy man's sport. The Fleetwing lost six men overboard in that first race, and men were lost subsequently on the 1870 and 1935 races. The 11th and most recent transatlantic race, 3,000 miles from Newport, R.I. to Santander, Spain earlier this month, was happily free of anything as serious, but the 57 sailors who made the trip had plenty to write home about.
Halfway across, the yawl White Mist had her boom shattered by a huge wave; her veteran crew sawed up their bunks to splint it together. At another point, the yawl Figaro's spinnaker sail collapsed and a gust knocked the 47-foot yacht over and water poured into her cockpit until her crew picked themselves up and righted her. Luis Vida√±a's Criollo (first to finish) blew out two spinnakers, and Richard Nye's Carina (the corrected-time winner) had one of her halyards snap off.
But the hardiest saga of all belonged to the little 42-foot Alphard, the smallest of the seven-boat fleet. Alphard's owner, Judge Curtis Bok of Philadelphia City Court, was fulfilling a longstanding ambition to cap his years of ocean cruising with a transatlantic race. Now that he was over 60, however, he made sure he chose his crew of six judiciously. First Mate Norris Hoyt of the Alphard had four transatlantic crossings to his credit since 1952. And along with Mr. Hoyt came wife Katherine Hoyt, to cook for the ship and to enjoy the postrace cruise that Alphard will make to Italy and Greece.
Alphard had just left the Azores behind when she was hit by what Crewman Redwood Wright called "a real stinker of a gale." Alphard was unable to sail the storm out. She lowered her canvas and bounced around for eight hours, getting pushed 50 miles off course and losing her life raft to a huge sea that came aboard. When she finally did get sail up again, she lost a port stay, and only a quick tack shifted the strain to the starboard stay and saved the mast.
Alphard sailed into port dead last, four days and 14 hours behind Criollo, with the crew still dead game, the skipper satisfied that he had achieved a suitable zenith for his sailing career and the cook happy with the honor of having been the first woman to crew to Spain. And the Spanish, who had given each yacht a rousing reception as she sailed into Santander, gave Alphard a welcome that topped all the rest.