My Cart
Your Shopping Cart is Empty
Paddling to Silver Islet: My Folding Kayak Adventure on Lake Superior
|
posted by Vitaliy Deputat
Some adventures start with a single photo. Mine began when I came across a Facebook post about Silver Islet, a tiny rocky island just off Ontario’s Sibley Peninsula. The post shared the story of how this unassuming rock was once home to the world’s richest silver mine.
Image credit: Northern Ontario Travel.
Silver Islet’s story is almost unbelievable. In 1868, prospectors discovered nearly pure silver here, and soon a mining company transformed the island into a bustling hub of activity. The mine produced over $3 million worth of silver—a staggering sum for the time.
Image credit: Wikimedia Commons
But operating a mine beneath Lake Superior was a constant struggle. Pumps worked around the clock to keep water out of the shafts. In 1883, a missed coal shipment meant the pumps ran out of fuel. The shafts flooded, and the mine was abandoned forever.
Image Credit: Silver Islet General Store
Today, only submerged timbers and foundations remain, hidden beneath the lake’s cold blue waters. On shore, the historic village of Silver Islet still stands as a summer community of rustic cottages.
When I saw photos of the islet and its eerie remains, I thought: What an amazing place to explore.
That’s when I decided to plan my own trip—flying with my folding Neris Smart Pro S kayak, paddling across Lake Superior, and capturing the history of Silver Islet for myself.
Planning the Adventure
Two weeks later, my plan was set. The best part? A folding kayak makes this kind of trip possible. The Neris SmartPro S packs into a portable bag, which I checked in as luggage on my flight from Ottawa to Thunder Bay International Airport (YQT).
Once I landed in Thunder Bay, I picked up my kayak from baggage claim, rented a car, and set out on the 100 km drive along Highway 587 toward Silver Islet.
The road winds through dense boreal forest, offering occasional glimpses of Lake Superior’s deep blue water and the cliffs of Sleeping Giant Provincial Park.
When flying to Thunder Bay from Ottawa, you’re flying over the Silver Islet itself, and it’s an amazing picture.
Life in an Off‑Grid Village
I had booked a small cottage right by the shore, less than two kilometres from the islet itself. Silver Islet village is entirely off‑grid—locals power their homes with solar panels and draw water directly from the lake.
That kind of lifestyle fascinates me. In today’s world of constant internet connection, the chance to disconnect and live simply—even for a few days—feels refreshing.
The cottage itself was perfect: two beds, a basic kitchen, and a wood‑burning stove that filled the room with cozy warmth. After meeting the friendly owners, I unpacked, made dinner, and sat by the stove listening to the quiet—something you rarely experience in daily life.
I knew the next day would be special.
Day One: My First Attempt
The following morning, after a quick lunch, I packed my folding kayak in its bag and carried it to the shore. As I began unfolding and assembling it, I attracted the attention of nearby hikers.
Curious about what I was doing, they gathered around. I ended up giving them a little demo of what a folding kayak is —how they work, how easy they are to assemble, and why they’re perfect for travel. They were impressed by how quickly the kayak took shape.
Before setting out, I spoke with my cottage host. She explained that the best times to paddle Lake Superior are before 10 a.m. or after 5 p.m. The midday hours are riskier—winds can rise suddenly, and fog can roll in without warning.
I was already running a bit late, so before launching, I flew my drone to capture some breathtaking shots of the bay and Silver Islet in the distance. From above, the view was spectacular—the endless blue lake framed by the lake waters and remnants of what used to be the world’s richest mine. It was a spectacular view, both exciting and eerie…
Exploring the Unknown: A Careful Approach to Silver Islet
About a kilometre offshore, I was still in exploration mode—scanning the horizon, trying to get a sense of the islet’s position and how best to approach it. I wasn’t in a rush to get close; instead, I let myself simply observe and take it all in from a distance.
I stayed within a safe range, mindful not to get too close to the submerged structures around the islet. I wasn’t entirely sure what lay beneath the surface—old foundations, cribbing, or jagged remnants—so I chose to play it safe and just paddle around the area.
Ghosts Beneath the Surface: Paddling into the Past
Although I didn’t make it all the way to the islet itself, I paddled close enough to sense the weight of the place—the history, the stillness, and the eerie presence of what lay just beneath the water.
The weather added to the feeling. The sky had turned a dull gray, the light was flat, and the wind moved in sharp, inconsistent gusts. The water beneath me wasn’t wild, but it wasn’t calm either. Every ripple, every shift, made me keenly aware that I was alone, paddling on one of the largest and most unpredictable lakes in the world, toward a place with a story that had long been swallowed by time and water.
Image Credit: Ontario parks
With curiosity pulling me forward, I stopped paddling and took out my GoPro. Carefully, I dipped it into the cold, slightly murky water. As the image came into focus on my screen, I saw them—timber foundations, sunken beams, and the twisted remains of old iron spikes, once used to secure buildings to the island.
Some of the large iron nails had been bent downward over the years, likely by pressure, waves, or perhaps even by hand to make them safer for passing boats and paddlers. Still, the sight of them sticking out of the submerged wooden remains gave me pause. I imagined the dozens of people who once walked here, unaware that their footsteps would someday be visible only in fragments beneath the lake’s surface.
I realized then that while I could get closer, it would be wiser not to—not without knowing more about the underwater topography, the exact hazards, or how my kayak might respond in tighter quarters. So I chose to stay back. I let the camera do the exploring while I floated nearby, silent, present, and completely immersed in the atmosphere of this haunting, half-sunken piece of history.
When the Wind Shifted: Choosing Caution Over Curiosity
As I continued to paddle and observe the islet from a safe distance, the lake began to subtly change. A breeze that had been gentle just minutes earlier started to gain strength, rippling across the surface and growing steadily more persistent.
The waves weren’t overwhelming yet, but I could sense a shift—Lake Superior has a reputation for changing its mood quickly, and I didn’t want to wait for that lesson the hard way.
Recognizing the signs, I decided to turn back. The wind was no longer something to ignore, and I knew I had pushed as far as I safely could alone. The paddle back wasn’t easy; moving against the wind took more effort than expected, and every stroke felt deliberate. But I was grateful for the decision—I made it back to shore with plenty of daylight left and a renewed respect for the lake.
A Cold Reality: Why a Dry Suit Isn’t Optional in May
One thing that quickly became clear during my paddle was just how cold Lake Superior remains—even in mid-May. The air might feel mild, even warm in the sun, but the water is a different story altogether. Surface temperatures in the spring often hover between 4 to 6 degrees Celsius (39–43°F)—easily cold enough to induce hypothermia within minutes if you end up in the water.
I made the mistake of leaving my dry suit behind on this trip. I thought it might be overkill given the time of year, but the moment I hit open water and felt the sharp bite of wind and spray, I knew I’d underestimated just how cold Superior stays year-round. Even with the sun shining, the air over the lake carries a chill that’s hard to describe unless you’ve felt it firsthand.
Because I wasn’t wearing a dry suit, I had to make doubly cautious decisions. That meant not approaching the islet too closely, watching the waves carefully, and always being aware of how quickly things could shift if I capsized. Playing it safe wasn’t just the smart move—it was the only move.
If there’s one tip I’d share with anyone planning a similar trip in spring or even early summer, it’s this: don’t paddle Lake Superior without a dry suit. The lake is beautiful, but it demands respect. And being properly equipped can be the difference between a great adventure and a dangerous situation.
A Surprising Guest at the Outdoor Kitchen
After wrapping up my first exploratory paddle and returning to shore, I headed back to the house. It was still chilly out, so I started a fire and got lunch going. As I settled into the quiet, I suddenly heard a strange sound—something like a large insect buzzing nearby.
At first, I couldn’t place it. I glanced around, expecting to see a beetle or maybe a wasp. But when I turned to my right, there it was: a tiny hummingbird, hovering effortlessly just a few feet away.
I was stunned—not just by how close it was, but by the fact that it was here at all. The weather was still cold, not at all what I imagined hummingbirds would tolerate. I had always thought of them as strictly tropical creatures. But this little one didn’t seem to mind.
Watching it flit around, dipping and darting like a living spark, was a moment of pure surprise and wonder. That unexpected encounter—right there beside the crackling fire and the scent of lunch in the air—felt like nature tipping its hat.
The hummingbird theater, I’ll tell you, was quite the show.
Amethyst Country Rock & Gift Shop: A Hidden Gem
The Amethyst Country Rock & Gift Shop, owned and supplied by the Diamond Willow Amethyst Mine, is a must-stop when traveling between Thunder Bay and Silver Islet. Located at 1096 Hwy 587 in Pass Lake, the shop is a family-run operation offering a wide selection of raw amethyst, jewelry, carvings, and unique gift items.
Visitors can browse locally sourced amethyst crystals—ranging from delicate lavender to deep purple—crafted into jewelry, clocks, beads, and decorative stones in the onsite lapidary workshop. The shop also carries handcrafted pieces from local artists, making it a treasure trove of Ontario-made gifts.
For mineral and gem enthusiasts, this stop offers direct access to Thunder Bay amethyst, one of the highest quality varieties in North America. Visitor amenities include free parking, a pet- and family-friendly environment, and an opportunity to dig for your own amethyst on-site during the summer season.
A Moment of Reflection: The Terry Fox Memorial and Lookout
As the afternoon drifted on and I knew I wouldn’t be returning to the water, I continued my drive toward Thunder Bay, just letting the road take me somewhere new. A familiar sign caught my eye—the one I had passed earlier—marked "Terry Fox Memorial and Lookout." On a whim, I turned off the highway and followed the short access road uphill.
When I arrived, I found myself at a beautifully maintained site overlooking the vastness of Lake Superior. Standing at its heart was the Terry Fox Memorial, a powerful bronze statue of Terry Fox mid-stride, mounted on a granite pedestal. It was only when I stood there in person that the weight of this place truly sank in—this is where Terry Fox’s Marathon of Hope came to an end.
He had run over 5,000 kilometers across Canada on one leg, battling bone cancer, raising money and awareness for cancer research—driven by determination most of us can only imagine. It took a quiet moment for that to really hit.
The view from the lookout was breathtaking—an expansive sweep of Lake Superior with the Sleeping Giant formation silhouetted in the distance. The sky was open, the water stretched endlessly, and the peacefulness of the moment was impossible to ignore.
After taking a few photos and letting the place leave its mark on me, I returned to the car and began the drive back to the cottage. The memorial and the view left me with a quiet sense of perspective—one that stayed with me well beyond that day.
Day Two: A Perfect Morning
The next morning, conditions were ideal—calm water, no visible waves, and barely any wind. I quickly assembled my kayak and launched while the lake was still quiet.
There were still small ripples and a light breeze, but nothing like the day before. This time, I was able to paddle much closer to Silver Islet.
I took out my camera and captured underwater footage of the old timbers and foundations. Seeing these ghostly structures beneath the surface was surreal.
Traces of a Lost Settlement: The Lake Reclaims Its Own
As I paddled around Silver Islet, I came across the subtle but haunting remains of a once-bustling settlement. The buildings that had once stood here—mining offices, worker barracks, equipment sheds—were now completely gone, surrendered to the relentless power of Lake Superior. It was astonishing, really—the lake had erased almost every visible sign that people once lived and worked here, pulling silver from beneath its surface.
The few submerged foundations and timbers I did find told only fragments of the story. I paddled slowly, scanning the water for any sign of the main mine shaft entrance, but between the gray skies, rising wind, and shifting waves, I couldn’t identify it. Even if I had, the water level wasn’t high enough—or calm enough—for me to safely get close, let alone swim or hover above it.
Instead, I focused on what I could access. I filmed some underwater footage, capturing logs, cribbing, and rusted remnants of iron embedded in the lakebed—silent witnesses to a chapter long closed.
Once I felt I had seen and documented what I could, I began my return paddle. The wind, again, was not in my favor—a steady headwind pushed against me, forcing me to dig in with every stroke.
I decided to play it smart and took shelter behind the nearest larger island, letting it shield me from the worst of the gusts. From there, I made the final push back to shore, tired but satisfied.
I hadn’t stepped on the islet. I hadn’t seen the shaft. But I had made it there. I had explored its waters, captured its hidden layers, and fulfilled the purpose of the journey.
Unearthing the Past at Camp Bay: My Discovery of the Old Dock
As I paddled back to shore after circling Silver Islet, I passed through Camp Bay, near where I had launched earlier in the day. I was tired, but something underwater caught my eye—a dark, almost rectangular shape just below the surface. I didn’t think much of it at first. It looked like it might’ve been the remains of an old structure, maybe a collapsed platform or the frame of a small building. I hadn’t noticed it on the way out, but in that moment, it stopped me.
Later, when I was back at the cottage, I mentioned what I’d seen to the owner. She told me that what I had stumbled upon was part of the old Presidential Dock, once the main dock used by the Silver Islet Mining Company during the height of the silver boom. It was from that very spot that miners and supply boats operated over 100 years ago—unloading coal, food, equipment, and hauling away raw silver ore.
The next morning, I went back with my underwater camera, driven by curiosity. As I drifted quietly in the kayak, I got a better look.
Four massive timber posts—each submerged just under half a meter of water—stood in a line like forgotten monuments. These weren’t random debris. These were the bones of the original dock, still anchored in the lakebed, hidden in plain sight.
There was a weight to being there. As someone who’s always had an appreciation for history—and as the son of a historian—this discovery stirred something in me. I imagined the scene: miners in heavy boots working at sunrise, ships creaking against the pilings, carts of coal being rolled down the dock. Now, all of it was gone. The noise, the people, the buildings—all swallowed by Lake Superior. Only these underwater timbers remained to suggest what had once existed here.
It was eerie. And moving. And completely unforgettable.
A Sweet Ending at the General Store
After returning to shore, I packed up my kayak and decided to explore the village. That’s when I found the Silver Islet General Store, a historic landmark dating back to 1871.
The store wasn’t officially open for the season yet—the owners were preparing to launch—but they were inside. I politely asked if I could come in, explaining that I was leaving early the next morning.
They kindly agreed, sharing stories about the area and letting me take some photos. Before I left, they gave me their famous cinnamon buns, which are known across the region for their taste.
It was the perfect way to end my adventure—great conversation, a piece of history, and an unforgettable treat.
That night, I packed my kayak and gear for my flight home. I felt proud—I had achieved everything I set out to do:
- Fly with my folding kayak
- Paddle across Lake Superior
- See Silver Islet up close
- Capture its story with photos and underwater footage
How You Can Plan Your Own Silver Islet Kayaking Trip
Step 1: Fly to Thunder Bay
Book a flight to Thunder Bay International Airport (YQT). A folding kayak like the Neris SmartPro S can be checked as luggage with no hassle.
Step 2: Rent a Car and Drive to Silver Islet
Rent a car at the airport—essential for reaching the Sibley Peninsula. The drive to Silver Islet takes about an hour along Highway 587, passing through stunning forested landscapes.
Step 3: Book a Cottage Near the Shore
Staying close to the launch point makes paddling much easier. Great options include:
-
Islet Cottage – a cozy eco‑friendly tiny home.
Step 4: Paddle Safely
-
Launch before 10 a.m. or after 5 p.m., when conditions are calmest.
-
Check the marine forecast—Lake Superior weather can change fast.
-
Wear a dry suit or full wetsuit—water temperatures can be dangerously cold.
Step 5: Essential Gear Checklist
- Folding kayak + paddle + spare paddle
- Dry suit or wetsuit
- Life jacket (PFD) and whistle
- Bilge pump and waterproof phone case
- Waterproof camera or drone for photos
Where to Launch Your Kayak
The best spot to launch is from the Silver Islet Marina. You will have plenty of parking spots, direct access to the Sea Lion Rock Formation, and the Silver Islet Mine itself.
Things to Do Near Silver Islet
Best Hikes in Sleeping Giant Provincial Park
- Top of the Giant Trail – a challenging hike with panoramic views.
- Sea Lion Trail – short and easy, leading to a natural rock arch.
- Nanabosho Lookout Trail – stunning views of Silver Islet and the lake.
- Talus Lake Loop – 18 km scenic route through varied terrain.
Food and Souvenirs
- Silver Islet General Store & Tea Room – famous buns, coffee, local souvenirs.
- Sleeping Giant Brewing Co. (Thunder Bay) – try local craft beer.
- Up Shot Coffeehouse (Thunder Bay) – a cozy stop for coffee and breakfast.
Other Scenic Spots
- Marie Louise Lake – calm waters, perfect for relaxed paddling.
- Ouimet Canyon – a dramatic 100 m deep gorge, just an hour away.
Final Thoughts: The Freedom of Folding Kayaks
This trip to Silver Islet was a dream come true. From flying with my kayak to paddling over historic ruins and tasting fresh cinnamon buns at the General Store, it was an adventure I’ll never forget.
The Neris Smart Pro S folding kayak made it all possible—portable, easy to check as luggage, and perfect for remote travel. It gave me the freedom to turn a Facebook post into a real, once‑in‑a‑lifetime experience.
If you’re planning your own Lake Superior kayak trip, my advice is simple:
- Plan around the weather. Check winds - strength and direction.
- Prioritize safety.
- And don’t underestimate the freedom a folding kayak can give you.
0 comments