Sauble Beach is changing but it’s still a place for family
On the western shore of the Bruce Peninsula lies something rare and beautiful — the second longest fresh-water beach in the world.
Eleven kilometres of soft sand against a vast stretch of clean blue water, Sauble Beach may be one of the best-kept secrets in Ontario.
Almost directly across the peninsula to the east, it’s wilder and more widely known cousin Wasaga Beach is a favourite summer haunt of Toronto residents and high school graduates from the GTHA, who flock there in droves for graduation celebrations, long weekends and a lively party scene that town councillors are now trying to curtail.
Wasaga is the bad boy of Georgian Bay.
Sauble is for family.
Its location takes it out of the way of main highways or direct access. To get to Sauble Beach, you really have to want to go there.
In many ways, the town seems stuck in a time capsule from the ’70s.
It’s so small that not even the clerk’s office of the Town of South Bruce Peninsula, keeps an accurate count of the number of fulltime residents living there.
The best guess from the local real estate board is 2,500. A broad two-lane road serves as the main drag leading from Bruce County Rd. 8 to the main public beach, and no one using it is in a hurry.
Cars and trucks proceed at a pace familiar to anyone who uses the Linc at rush hour. But here no one is angry or frustrated. Sauble Beach is where they come to leave all of that behind.
The sandy sidewalks are crowded with clusters of cottagers shuffling between the beach, and destinations such as the Dairy Queen or, perhaps, the LCBO.
Many of them are wearing various iterations of souvenir Sauble T-shirts or hoodies purchased from one of the many beachwear shops that comprise the bulk of commerce in town. Susan Follett owns It’s A Shore Thing, which specializes in cottage decor; one of the few retailers selling something other than flip flops and bathing suits.
Simpler time
She remembers the Sauble Beach that existed before the Internet. A simpler time and place.
“The trampolines are gone. The roller rink is gone. The amusements have gone. There’s not a lot of things for kids to do anymore.”
You can find a trendy coffee shop or two, but pubs and restaurants are somewhat scarce, especially along Lakeshore Drive, which offers a glorious view of Lake Huron to the residents lucky enough to own a home or cottage along the road.
Vince Artuso, a 70-year-old resident and real estate agent who moved here 40 years ago, sold a number of those properties to their current owners.
“To be honest with you, there are absolutely no attractions other than the beach,” he says.
And yet, that seems to be enough.
On a hot summer weekend, as many as 10,000 visitors pack the wide, flat sands with their blankets, towels and colourful umbrellas, eager to enjoy the cool, clear water that rolls gently across a succession of sandbars to the shore.
The lineups for french fries and hotdogs are long at Mar’s, and Scoopers ice cream is packed.
Traffic rolls bumper to bumper down Main Street, past the iconic “Welcome to Sauble Beach’ sign and onto Lakeshore Drive. That’s where Rick Lemon and his family own one of a handful of private lots that still run to the water’s edge.
His grandfather, Norman McKee, bought the land from the federal Department of Indian Affairs on a Crown patent in 1953. The Lemons have opened a large portion of that land to the town, for use as one of the main parking areas along the public beach. In return, they take a share of the reve-
nue generated by the lot. But within the next year or two, the Lemons may have to surrender that property permanently.
Saugeen First Nation
A pending land claim by the Saugeen First Nation is headed to court after decades of dispute, and two rounds of mediation.
In 2014, a deal to see joint management of the beach seemed to be within reach, but a wave of political resistance washed over the municipal election that year and swept the deal away.
Now there’s a rising tide of resentment among the people led by Chief Vernon Roote.
Roote says the sale that gave Rick Lemon’s family the land on which two rental properties are situated, as well as a slice of municipal parking revenue, was illegal.
“We did not agree to that,” says Roote. “And so we are essentially suing the federal government because they did not take care of our land for us.”
The monetary benefits of the beach are clearly familiar to the Saugeen First Nation.
They reclaimed a large tract of disputed property that runs south from the Sauble Beach sign toward Southampton, 18 kilometres away.
In the last few years, they have monetized a large stretch of sand that was once controlled by the Town of South Bruce Peninsula. But Roote insists that money is not the primary motivation for the claim.
“We have never really benefitted from the town — from the tourist season, for over 100 years. A lot of our people — ” he pauses, looking for the right words, “It’s our land. It’s not a monetary benefit. It’s our land, to use and live on.”
Despite the obviously large interest Lemon and his family may have in the continued recognition of their Crown Patent, Lemon seems somewhat philosophical about the pending land claim.
“If it happens that the land claim by the Saugeen First Nation does go through, I would hope that people would still be able to freely enjoy the beach in the future as they do today. Will fewer people visit the beach? I don’t think so. Sauble will always be a jewel.”
Artuso feels the biggest threat to Sauble at the moment is the lack of an adequate water and sewer system in the centre of town.
“At one time you never had many people who lived here year round. Now you have 2,500 people. They flush their toilets and dishwashers and whatever, and the septic systems will eventually not necessarily do any good to the beach.”
Artuso believes contaminants may already be leaching through the ground and making their way to the most important attraction in town; it’s pristine shoreline.
He points to the recent appearance of algae along the water’s edge as one sign of contamination, and harks back to a day when he and his then five-year-old daughter would dig and build sandcastles all day on the beach.
“We used to play on the beach and build whatever, and I never saw black muck. You go there with a shovel today and you dig 15 or 20 inches, and you find black muck.”
The town council defeated a proposal that would have established a modern sanitary system, dismissing it as too expensive, and unnecessary.
“You certainly don’t need a sewer system to promote growth,” says Mayor Janice Jackson.
“The west side of Owen Sound is on septic systems; the movie theatre, Tim Hortons, McDonald’s, Joe Tomato’s restaurant, none have sewers.”
But all of them are more than half a kilometre away from the Sydenham River, the closest tributary leading into Georgian Bay. The lots in Sauble, including Rick Lemon’s, are less than 50 metres from the water.
Artuso believes it’s too much and too close to the fragile shoreline.
“We have lots as small as 38 by 50! How do you manage to stay there with your own water, your own sewers, on a property like that? And you still have a building on it!”
Neither the issue of sewers nor the pending land claim, seem to bother the summer tourists, however.
They still come by the thousands from London, Kitchener and Hamilton, to bask upon that glorious ribbon of sand for two months, two weeks or two days at a time.
The relaxed and sleepy pace is a perfect tonic for an adult’s weary urban soul, and the beach provides strong incentive for their kids to put the cellphones down and spend an active few minutes splashing and swimming in the beautiful water.
Spectacular attraction
But perhaps the most spectacular attraction of the day is the one that comes right at the end.
As the coolers, floats and chairs are dragged to the waiting cars, there comes a moment of pause in which almost everyone stops and turns to look westward over the water.
There the huge orange ball of the summer sun is slowly dropping behind a dazzling display of glimmering silver water. The sky above explodes in a massive plume of soft, rose-coloured clouds, streaked by violent bands of shocking pink.
The crowd pauses, reluctant to surrender the day, and many clap and cheer as the last crescent of the sun disappears on the horizon.
The sunburned faces and shoulders slowly disperse, but their memories of what has often been described as one of the most breathtaking sunsets in the world seldom do.
“On horrible awful snowy days, I can close my eyes and see those sunsets.” says Susan Follett. “They stay with you, forever.”
With memories like that, who needs trampolines?
Scot Urquhart is a freelance writer. You can find him at UrkedFreelance.com