My Watermark is Lake Huron, Ontario.

My water story is from a long time ago, when I was younger, maybe 11 years old. I was at the beach with my older sister, my babysitter, and my baby sitter’s daughter. We were on Lake Huron, Port Frank and we were just playing in the water.

At some point we realized that we were far out and we should go back in, but we had a really hard time getting further in. Things were a little foggy from the event. But I remember the babysitter’s daughter, trying to put me on her back and swim me in, and my sister, on her back, kicking and doing the back float. I remember lots of people on shore yelling. There was an old man on shore trying to help us, but his wife wouldn’t let him because he couldn’t swim. I have a vague memory of sitting in the back of an ambulance. But we were all okay, we didn’t have to go anywhere.

Ever since then, I’ve had a powerful respect for water of any size because I feel that there is so much strength and power in the water.