TO MY NEPHEW OBADIAH

I sent baby Obadiah a very special bath toy for the occasion of his birth. Of course it is several months from when he can actually use it, and it is several years from when he can understand the story below, which explains it. (Sorry this is another longish post.)

Dear Nephew,


If you cross the lake to the New York side, and follow the shoreline north, you will come to a place where the lake is separated from an extensive swamp by a gravel berm. The berm supports a set of train tracks that run across the mouth of the swamp. The Widjiwats call this place “Krennel Marl”, which means “Skeleton swamp.” It is so named because the dead and dying trees which rise out of the swamp’s shallow water resemble disembodied skeletons wading through the reeds, cattails and water lilies. The swamp is bordered on the north by a large apple orchard whose neat and orderly rows stand in stark contrast to the wild and chaotic looking swamp. A channel of open water winds its way in serpentine fashion through the middle of the swamp, and connects a brook, which issues into the western end of the swamp, with the open lake. On the south and west, the swamp is bordered by dense hardwood forest and rocky ledges, and to the east, of course, it is bordered by the aforementioned berm and the lake. A large metal culvert runs under the berm and allows water to flow back and forth between the swamp and the lake. For years Widjiwat vessels have used this culvert to find safe anchorage in the sheltered waters of the swamp.

Every time I think of the swamp I am reminded of an old Widjiwat frog hunter named “Erp” who used to live there. I don’t think “Erp” was his proper given name, but probably a nickname of some sort. If I had to guess I would say it probably came from a stanza in a popular Widjiwat children’s song which goes:

“If you surprise a frog
It goes “erp”, hop, kersplunk!
Into puddle, pond or bog
It goes “erp”, hop, kersplunk!”

Erp made a living for himself by trading fresh frog meat for supplies and such with the ships that anchored in the swamp. Frogs, of course, are very abundant there, and even now, if you visit the swamp on a summer evening, the din of their croaking is so loud you can barely hear yourself think. It was a very pleasant sound to old Erp though. He lived for the frog hunt, and he probably knew more about frogs and their ways than a room full of herpetologists. Most people found him dull because he was almost incapable of talking about anything else, but I thought he was kind of interesting.

He was not only considered one of the best frog hunters of his time, but he was also generally regarded as one of the handiest men around in a dugout canoe. A dugout canoe is a necessary piece of equipment for a serious frog hunter, or for anybody living in a swamp as Erp did. He plied a canoe like it was an extension of himself. He was famous for crossing the broad lake in his dugout regardless of the weather, which was considered a suicidal act even when things were calm. Dugout canoes are prone to tipping and it takes a steady and experienced hand to keep dry even in the sheltered waters of the swamp, but so far as I know, Erp never tipped a canoe.

Erp’s appearance sort of reminded me of a moose or a stork in that he had a massive upper body and skinny, rather underdeveloped, legs. I believe this was due to a life spent traveling by canoe. His broad chest and muscular arms were constantly at work maneuvering his dugout through the swamp, while his legs lay at rest. I suspect that he probably traveled more by canoe in his life than on his feet. I guess that isn’t so unusual considering how much we travel by car, but there was something impressive about Erp’s mastery of the dugout and his intimate knowledge of the swamp. No one knew the swamp better than Erp.

He could also be graceful on his feet though. You have to be to sneak up on frogs. And he could move as silently as a cloud over the face of the moon. He was an old man, but he was steady and strong. His face was swarthy and deeply wrinkled with icy blue eyes and a sharp beak of a nose. He never said much, but somehow, he was very good company. Above all, I remember him as a humble man who sincerely enjoyed life and who loved the Lord. I don’t think I have ever met anyone who was as comfortable in his own skin as Erp.

The last time I saw Erp he was paddling out onto the broad lake towards Munger brook. Earlier that day, he had hauled his dugout canoe up onto the shore beneath the house, and announced that he had brought me some extra fine Indian beads that he had found. I had told him two weeks earlier that I would give him whatever he wanted in trade for some truly fine Indian beads, because I wanted to make them into a necklace for Bowden. He carefully unloaded 4 beautiful beads, which were wrapped in a mouse hide. All Erp wanted in trade was some salt, which I gladly gave him.

Before long our conversation turned, as usual, to frog hunting. He asked me if I had ever eaten a frog, and I had to admit that I hadn’t. He offered to cook me one sometime, and I said that would be nice.

I asked erp if he would spend the night at my house before heading back to the swamp, but he declined. He said he had some relatives he wanted to visit who were passing the summer up on the Munger, and he said he would spend the night with them. I thanked him again for the beads, and we said our goodbyes. Just as Erp was shoving off I commented that his dugout canoe would make a perfect bath toy for a little boy. He thought that was awfully funny and he was laughing as he paddled away.

I learned about a year ago that Old Erp had died in his sleep at Overfick. Don’t be sad, he loved Jesus, and although he enjoyed the time that God gave him here, he knew that his true home would be with Jesus in the new Jerusalem. He left instructions that his dugout canoe be given to me with the idea that I would give it to a little boy as a bath toy. So I entrust Erp’s dugout to you. It’s not the most handsome boat. Nor is it the finest crafted vessel to ever turn a wake, but it served Erp well, and I hope you enjoy it at bath time.

P.S. Jarudet helped me clean out all of the crusty frog guts and accumulated stains. We also sanded out some of the rough spots and fixed it up a little. Don’t just put it on a shelf or stick it away somewhere. Erp would have wanted it to be a useful thing. Welcome to the world- I love you!
(This is a picture of Erp's swamp from atop the berm)