Sound on Georgian Bay.
As a young boy, he thoroughly enjoyed the outdoors, fishing in the bay, swimming, and boating. Tom had an ear for music and played the violin, mandolin, and coronet. He was also fascinated by birds, the colour of leaves in the autumn, and flowers in the spring. According to his brother, George, he paid keen attention to the seasonal movements of animals. As a teenager he was strongly built and stood almost two metres (six feet). Judge Little, author of The Tom Thomson Mystery, said, “Conversely he couldn’t find satisfaction in study; he neither finished high school nor completed a machinists’ apprenticeship started in his late teens at Owen Sound. He also attempted, but never completed, a business course at Chatham.”
It was in 1901, at the age of 24, that Tom took his first step toward a career in art. He followed his brothers, George and Henry, to Seattle, and there joined a commercial art studio where George had begun a year earlier. There Tom explored the territory of his imagination; there he began experimenting with crayon and then watercolour sketches. Some mention has been given to an unsuccessful romance with a woman while he was in Seattle, which fostered his return to Toronto, in 1905. There he found employment with a commercial art firm.
In 1911, he acquired a new job with the firm of Grip Limited. It was here that he made contact with other kindred spirits — J.E.H. MacDonald, Arthur Lismer, Fred Varley, Tom MacLean, A.Y. Jackson, and Frank Carmichael. At 34 Tom had begun to do sketches and oil paintings around Toronto, near the Don Valley, Rosedale Ravine, Scarlet Road, Old Mill, and Lambton.
In early 1912 Tom made his first trek to picturesque Canoe Lake in Algonquin Park. Between 1913 and 1917, he painted in Algonquin from spring break, up until late fall. The majority of his works were inspired here, including Northern River, West Wind, Spring Ice, Jack Pine, and Northern Lights. He painted 24 major canvasses and made more than 300 sketches.
Judge William T. Little quoted park ranger Mark Robinson — who first met Thomson in the spring of 1912 — in his book, The Tom Thomson Mystery: “One evening as I went to Canoe Lake, a couple of other rangers had joined me. It was quite routine in those days for park rangers to inspect all newcomers coming into the park because poaching was a major offence and a common occurrence in the park. As the train came in and drew to a stop, a tall, fine-looking man with a packsack on his back stepped off the train. The stranger inquired where he could find a place to stay, and where he could get a good bed and good eats. I explained to him that the Algonquin Hotel was a short distance away and Mowat Lodge was nearby. A man by the name of Fraser served good meals there and had excellent beds. Tom said ‘that was the place for him.’”
Mowat Lodge became his home away from home. In the ensuing years, Tom lived with the Frasers as one of the family. He even designed a cover for the Frasers’ booklet to announce Mowat Lodge. Tom was, nevertheless, a loner, and often canoed out into the lake and disappeared for days on end, painting and fishing to his heart’s content. He was an amiable man with rugged, lean, muscular good looks. Tom was well-liked by most who met him and enjoyed the company of others at the many parties in the area.
Fishing was a passion of Tom Thomson. No one could explain why a length of fishing line was wrapped 16–17 times around his left ankle at the time of his death.
Courtesy of Jane Loftus
Mark Robinson pointed out that Tom earned his way in the park by purchasing a guide license and subsequently led parties of fishermen through the park. He often tented on the east side of Canoe Lake, opposite Mowat Landing, just north of Hayhurst’s Point.
In April 1917 Tom arrived at Canoe Lake for the last time. On July 7 of that year, Tom and a number of local cottage residents met at George Rowe’s cabin for some merriment. Drinking at these social events usually led to storytelling. The topic of the war arose, and Tom spoke of his determination to join up as a fire ranger. His earlier attempts to join had been thwarted because of his flat feet. That night Martin Bletcher, who was considered to have a bad temperament, always exacerbated by heavy drinking, arrived at the party.
Judge Little wrote, “One young American cottager in particular, Martin Bletcher, who was of German background, was most outspoken regarding the progress of the war and his forecast of ultimate German supremacy. During the early summer Tom and Martin seemed to share a mutual dislike. These two men, during this Saturday evening, were actually prevented from coming to blows only by the good-natured efforts of the guides. On leaving the cabin before midnight, Bletcher hurled a final threat, ‘Don’t get in my way if you know what’s good for you.’”
A love triangle can be a source of great pain and jealousy. Secret love is even more entangling and complex. Winnie Trainor was, by all accounts, a beautiful, mysterious woman. Hidden to most, Winnie and Tom shared a secret love. Judge Little said, “Not until Miss Trainor’s death in 1962 has it been known, authoritatively, that Thomson intended to marry her. Did Martin Bletcher resent Tom’s visits to Winnie Trainor, just next door to him, during those long summer evenings? Did Tom resent Martin’s presence so close to Miss Trainor’s cottage?”
Terence Trainor McCormick, the nephew and beneficiary of Miss Trainor’s estate, once stated, about the letters written between Winnie and Tom, “... the correspondence gave undisputable evidence that Tom and my Aunt were engaged to be married.” Their covenant remained a secret known only to them.
On July 8, 1917, it was a rather dull and wet morning. Shannon Fraser and Tom threw a line in the water at the dam between Joe and Canoe Lakes. Mark Robinson caught sight of the men. Tom waved to Mark and called, “Howdy, Mark.” Mark acknowledged the greeting. It would be the last time he saw Tom alive.
Tom returned to his quarters, where he gathered up his tackle box and a loaf of bread and some bacon from Mowat Lodge. He bid farewell to Shannon as his canoe cut a path across the waters of Canoe Lake. Shannon watched Tom disappear past Little Wapomeo Island, only 1.5 kilometres (one mile) away.
The following day Martin Bletcher casually remarked to some guests at Mowat Lodge that he had spotted an upturned canoe between Little and Big Wapomeo Islands. Apparently, he and his sister had not stopped, but continued on for an afternoon fishing excursion. On their return trip, the canoe had disappeared.
No one seemed too concerned about such a report. It was a strange reaction by such a small community of residents, who all knew the boats on the lake. Judge Little added, “Furthermore, Canoe Lake residents considered it strange that Martin Bletcher could not have recognized Thomson’s grey-green canoe with a metal strip on the keel side; it was known to everyone on Canoe Lake at the time.”
Charlie Scrim found the craft the following morning, behind Big Wapomeo Island. Mark Robinson said, “Contrary to some people who may tell you the canoe was floating right side up, there was none of his equipment in the canoe, except his portaging paddle, which was lashed in position for carrying, and the ground sheet with bread and bacon in the bow section. There were no fishing poles, no gear; even his small axe was gone.”
Robinson immediately reported to Park Superintendent Bartlett who authorized a search. Tom’s brother, George, was contacted. He arrived at Canoe Lake on July 12. Dynamite was exploded in the lake without the desired results — no body surfaced.
The sharp eyes and minds of guides George Rowe and Charlie Scrim noted that Tom’s own working paddle was missing. Especially strange was how the portaging paddle was lashed in a position to portage. It had been knotted in a most unorthodox way. Only an inexperienced canoeist would fashion such a knot. Thomson was an expert canoeist and outdoorsman.
On July 14 George Thomson gathered up a number of Tom’s sketches and caught the train back to New York. He felt there was little he could do.
On the morning of July 15, 1917, Dr. G.W. Howland spotted something lying low in the water by Hayhurst Point on the east shore of Canoe Lake. At first he thought it was a loon. At the same time, George Rowe and Lowrie Dickson were paddling down the middle of the lake when they saw the doctor hailing them. The canoeists aimed for the object. It was Tom. He was dead.
They towed