The River

From Lake Ontario to the ocean, the St. Lawrence is 2,000 miles of island-splattered water. Just east of Ontario is a cluster of islands with such names as Whiskey, Rum, Papoose and Watch. To the dozen families who have vacationed here for 75 years, this is The River. Each summer the Bernard Carters come from Paris to Whiskey Island (and sometimes leave it, below, for tennis at Rum Point). The Cleveland Dodges come from New York, the John Morgans from Minnesota, the James Whites from Boston, the Bolling Haxalls from Virginia. They find a paradise of fishing, picnicking, and sailing—an idyl shown for the first time on these pages

Part of each day at The River is waterborne. Mrs. Carter is ferried to Watch by her grandson David Boyer (far left). Ann Carter motors past rudderless, mahogany St. Lawrence skiffs which are sailed by shifting weight. Bolling Haxall drifts between islands, trolling for bass. And in the Papoose boathouse Bunny Smith and two young MacLeans bait the minnow net with bread crumbs

Sunday at Rum Point is a time of family lunches—alfresco at the Whites; a time for inter-island baseball, played by three generations and managed by Mrs. Cleveland Dodge. At bat: Bernard Carter. On the bench: a youngster inspecting a caterpillar