I was always fascinated with my great-aunt Marjorie's big old white brick house on the north shore of Colpoy's Bay (which I later found out was built in 1884 by my ancestor and village pioneer, John Wood).* The entire environment was exotic to me, from the limestone cliffs to the shimmering waters of the bay. I spent much time exploring what was left of the old farm lot, wandering along the bayshore, meandering up nearby Colpoy's Creek and imagining long-dead townsfolk walking in and out of the former Whicher's general store. On top of that, the sunken barges in front of the house and the old rusty flywheel on the former site of Whicher's sawmill piqued my interest in the history of the area at an early age.