The Lady in the Lake

In the Summer of 1923, a woman, whose identity has since been lost, checked in to the Lakeview Hotel, opposite City Park. That same day, she rented a boat and paddled out to the middle of the lake where she disappeared. Kelowna Ghost Tours tells the story of what some say happened to this mystery woman 100 years ago, the old Kelowna Ghost Story of The Lady in the Lake.

An empty rowboat sits on the shore of Okanagan Lake at Siwash Point, it's keel rising and falling with the water pushing it forward into the weeds. This has been a common sight throughout all of Okanagan history. It was common etiquette since before European arrival to leave a boat on the shore at Siwash Point or on the other side of the lake where our City Park now sits, once marshland before the European arrival. Communal boats. But not this one. And this one was not completely empty. Jewelry and a drop waist dress laying down flat, facing up to the sky. And a broad brimmed white hat where someone's head could be. As though it had been laid out that way. Only visible if you walked through the weeds and peered down into it.

This is July of 1923. One hundred years ago. It is a real happening. Long time resident Bill Knowles talks about it in his memoirs of Kelowna.

"As there was a sizable insurance policy on her and the inxurance company wouldn't pay for seven years unless the body was found, so the search and rumours began. Was it suicide? Was it an accident? Very unlikely.

"At one point dynamite was used in the lake in that area in hopes of raising the body. We used to hear the explosions from our camp at Manhattan Beach.

"This is where I came into the picture. One day after school, Gordie Meikle and I went to the Aquatic Centre to get my canoe and go for a paddle. On the door of the storage area was a typewritten note saying: 'If you are out in a boat between the Hot Sands Beach in the City Park and Siwash Point would you keep an eye out for this lady's body.' Twice we paddled the area searching... however, no signs of the lady's body were seen and as far as I know, it was never found."

But no one knows who this woman is. And no one ever found out what happened to her for the next 100 years. To find out what happened, we need to go from the end of our story to its beginning. And to do that, we need to go across the lake, and not by bridge in 1923. Perhaps the Aricia helmed by ferryman Len Hayman is crossing, docking at the foot of Bernard.

Let's fly across a simpler City Park, and not the Wibit that is currently on shore, but the Aquatic. No grandstand or Ogopogo Stadium yet. Over Hot Sands Beach, and down to a much quieter, simpler Abbot Street. A narrower street and a quaint, two story hotel that has been there for some time, built in 1892, thirty years ago by the Lequimes. And a painted sign hanging at the entrance that reads THE LAKEVIEW HOTEL. This must be mid-week. This must be early in July. Not many people in sight. Regatta is weeks away. Just the regulars, a few boarders who rent rooms by the month. Perhaps a couple setting up in the conference room used by the fruit growers to show their wares at the next exhibition. A quiet day.

A woman, young, well put together, a broad brimmed white hat and a drop waist dress under a coat, jewelry round her neck, the same as that laid out in the boat found the next day on the other side of the lake, stands at the entrance.

She stares out at the lake.

Stares.

Finally she turns to the hotel. Her white gloves hold a cardboard suitcase in front of her. She takes a deep breath and pushes through the doors, walks up to the front desk and is greeted by our courteous, local staff.

"Afternoon ma'am. May I help you?"

"I'd like a room please."

"Just yourself?"

"Is that a problem?"

A long moment before...

"No. Don't see many women staying in hotels by themselves is all."

The guest book is pushed toward her.

"If you could sign in then. Miss."

The front desk attendant steps away to grab a room key as the woman removes her gloves and reveals a wedding ring. She drops her hand below the counter before the front desk staff turns back, sliding the ring off the finger, palming it.

She signs as the attendant returns with the room key.

"Top of the stairs, on the left."

A teenage boy reaches for the cardboard suitcase. She grabs it, panicked, holding it to the ground as he lets go.

"Thank you. I'll be fine."

We don't see her again until she is out of the room. She is in the park. At the Aquatic.

From a distance we can see the Woman standing at an outside counter and a rack of canoes and rowboats, where rentals are available and where the locals store their own. She is looking for cash in her small purse that she gives a man as another man drags a rowboat to the water for her.

She runs to the boat and hops in. The man pushes her out. She grabs at the grips of the oars and, facing us, begins to row. We look out in the direction she is headed and get lost in the view as she gets lost in her thoughts. She remembers. Not even a month earlier.

She is sobbing. A concerned man has her by the wrist and is leading her from the front porch of a house to a parked car.

"Emily, we can't live like this. Now you gotta get hold of yourself."

He gets them both into the car and shuts the doors so they don't make a scene.

"We're here now. Just us. All of that is behind us. This is your new life. I promised I would love you and take care of you, I would take you away from all of that awful..."

He's not very good at this. He knows it.

"And you promised you would love me."

She stares into her lap. It is not the response he needs right now.

"Do you love me, Emily?"

Her sobbing has tempered. She looks at him. Afraid.

"You can tell me Emily. Tell me anything. Everything." He means it.

She works up the courage but can't look at him.

"He calls for me. I hear him."

He is devastated but dedicated to her.

"He's dead, Emily. You loved him, and I know you did and I'm never going to take that away from you. But you don't have him anymore, and I know, it's a tragedy, and it's awful. But you have someone right here with you who loves you, who wants to do right by you. Someone who's taken you away from all of that, taken you away from that town and that lake. You don't have to see that no more."

She looks up into his eyes. He deserves so much more, but all she can give him right now is the truth.

"I can hear him. He calls for me. He's calling for me."

"It's not real, Emily, those voices. The doctor explained it all to us.

He holds her hands.

"Maybe it's time for the procedure. The doctor says it's state of the art; modern medicine is figuring out the brain and how to fix it all. Says it's completely safe."

She is pleading with her eyes but he's not listening. He's not able. She resigns herself. Nods. He kisses her forehead. The next morning she will be here. In the Lakeview. In her hotel room.

The room is untouched. The woman's coat is draped on the bed. The suitcase is open. We look inside and see only the pair of white gloves and her wedding ring. Nothing else was packed. She has no plans to go anywhere else. No plans to return to her husband.

The woman's boat, now in the middle of our lake, rocks gently as she lays there. She has stopped her sobbing. Does she hear something? Him?

A change comes over her demeanour. She screws up her courage. She closes her eyes. Smiles. She opens her eyes. One word.

"Yes."

She dissolves. She doesn't fade. She isn't replaced by anything. Dematerialization. Her body disappears. The broad brimmed hat and drop waist dress remain. Empty. Just as it would all be found the next morning.

Waves lap against the boat. Birds chirp and the breeze blows.

Below the boat, deep below. A lake that has depths of over two hundred metres in places. Two hundred metres down. Past driftwood, past bubbles, past swirling currents and the fish riding them, past warm, past light.

Then we drop just a little further. A little bit. To the bottom. A silty, shifting lake bed floor, the remnants of volcanic rock beat into silt and washed to the lake bottom by thousands of years of glacial pulverizing, created millions of years ago below everything except the humming fault line it sits upon.

We see her. And him. Her lover. Her only lover. They twirl, naked, entangled, along the timeless lake bottom water. Holding one another.

Fading into darkness.