In My View

One Scout's memories of Melitas Island

This week I heard that the efforts to reacquire Melita Island for the Boy Scouts of America were successful. This was wonderful news for those of us who had worked on and had great memories about the unique scout camp during its very active years.

I was a scout working for the Western District Council that summer. My primary duty was to assist in running the small bore rifle range located on the west side of the island, but on the morning of July 4th I was part of a work crew that was cleaning and painting the interior of the camp infirmary.

The structure was a former two-room cabin assembled from rough sawed lumber with full headroom only down the centerline. Supplies were minimal, mostly World War II surplus, and we lacked enough paint of any one color to do the whole job. Commingled, the cans created a bluish shade that spread well with a broom or trowel. That day, we had started just after first light.

Melita Island is unique among Boy Scout camps. It is a true island with water only access. The Scout Council had acquired a World War Two amphibious DUCK landing craft to ferry scouts, gear and supplies from the mainland to the island. A dock had been constructed on the south face of the island that was sheltered from the open water blow down Flathead Lake. Wooden cribbing and rock fill supported a wide wooden walkway with a mooring station for watercraft.

Water access meant few frills and no mechanized equipment. Every construction project was done by hand. The island camp was primitive compared to other scout camps. This made the experience all the better as each scout had to improvise and adapt.

All scouts, counselors, and staff members worked on a daily basis to improve the status of the island. Campsites were spread-out over the rough terrain with a few old wooden tent platforms being a prime location on the high ground northwest of the beach. A large bonfire ring and assembly area was created on the far north beach that faced Wild Horse Island. The staging area was used weekly, at night, for ceremonies and other special gatherings. The 4th of July would be one such event.

When we had completed the infirmary overhaul our crew went to the fire ring to freshen up the venue. This included realigning the rocks used to define the pathway from the mess hall (south beach) to the fire ring, and to accumulate firewood into a LARGE pile - to make a true bonfire requires lots of wood. Driftwood was plentiful and a significant stack was gathered to the satisfaction of all.

Lunch on the island for the working staff was predictable - monotonous, and nourishing: a peanut butter with grade jelly sandwich, a red (mushy) apple, and a small box of raisins. Occasionally a war surplus "tropical" candy bar was included; the bar contained an extra amount of paraffin to maintain shape in tropical heat. You could eat it, or save it for night and light it like a candle for illumination.

The preferred way to ingest the lunch meal was to slice the usable parts of the apple into thin pieces, reshape the peanut butter and jelly into a holding area, drop on some raisins and then roll the mix into one item. It was like a Wonder bread taco!

An after lunch swim would have been nice, but all water sports on the island were strictly controlled for safety reasons.

After lunch I went to the rifle range. "Idle time" was an opportunity to police the infield for debris and to recheck the target hangers at the impact zone. Bullseye targets, frangible black disks, and shooting mats were positioned in preparation for scout shooters. The Remington single shot .22 rifles were kept in a secure rack under the covered firing line and ammunition was locked in an iron chest.

As scout shooters arrived they were instructed in safety protocol, basic marksmanship technique, and the allotted number of rounds were fired, recorded, and the rifles made safe. No horseplay was tolerated and everyone knew it.

In the late afternoon all troops assembled in front of the big mess hall to observe the lowering of the colors, and to receive information from the camp director.

Dinner was always the big meal of the day. It was hot, starchy and generous. Clean-up followed for all mess gear and the kitchen area. A chore that was taken seriously, but tempered with graphic stories about what happens to scouts who fail to "double dip" in the last two rinse water solutions. With all secure we had some free time to relax, pursue camp craft, or just enjoy the wonderful tranquility of Flathead Lake during the long summer evenings. In July it remained light until about ten o-clock and a bon-fire before dark was just a daytime wood fire. The activities continued.

After dark the patrols of scouts assembled at the fire ring. By a magic process known only to the staff the big fire started with a "whoosh". Everything was instantly better and brighter.

As staff we "monitored" the fire for a while and discussed what a unique spot Melita Island was as a scout camp. I had spent two summers at Camp Garland in Locust Grove, Oklahoma and the contrast with Melita Island was sharp. Camp Garland had CBS block barracks, elaborate mess halls, a traditional swimming pool and a groomed nature trail. Melita was much different, and to us infinitely better: how much you gleaned from the camp experience depended directly upon how much thought and skill you expended during the stay. Comfort was the result of personal effort. It was a primitive camp and that allowed for a lot of individual creativity.

Some of us speculated about how the island would improve over time.

About midnight I returned to my bunkhouse, a two-room dwelling that housed seven people. It had a washbasin in the far end, but no running water. The sides were a single board thick and on a bright moon night you could see the reflections off the water dance around the ceiling.

I turned off the fuel valve on the Coleman lantern and reflected on the day knowing that in five hours it would start all over again. EVERY DAY WAS THE FOURTH OF JULY AT MELITA ISLAND!

Bradley Johnson is a former Eagle Scout (1961) and currently serves as the city judge of Whitefish.