Chase’s Wild Animal Farm, Egypt MA.

In the 1940’s Scituate was a popular shopping spot for my parents, Mom grocery shopped at the A&P and  maintained  their  meats were the best.

Across the street was an Italian delicatessen with wheels of the best cheese. Mom would buy a wedge of Romano for grating on her pasta— Oh how good my Mom’s pasta sauce was–Oh-Yes– My wife’s sauce is good too!
Welch’s Hardware Store was toward the northerly  end of Front St. where my Dad always found everything he needed.

Welch’s, Front St. Scituate MA.
A centrally located Movie House, ”The Satuit Playhouse” provided the weekly news and memorable movies like ”Lassie Come Home”, Dumbo, Bambi, Pinocchio, Snow White——- Alice in Wonderland—- those movies have touch me to this day.

The Satuit Playhouse looking down the ally from Front St.

Not far westerly out First Parish Rd. or  Beaver Dam Rd. and off Branch St. was the Thomas Lawson Estate, a campus including a fountain within a common, a church, school, a wood tower covering the town water tank, Lawson had done to cover the ugly steel tank.

The Lawson Tower.

Driving through this immense  estate was certainly a ”Dreamwold” , as Thomas Lawson named it.  Much of the estate could be observed from the public roads surrounding the compound.
This day in the late summer of 1941, to my surprise, my Dad turned off Branch St. onto a dirt road into the Lawson compound. There were barns connected by tall wooden fences with big doors between the barns.

The home and  map of Thomas Lawson’s ”Dreamwold Estate”

Massachusetts Egypt Dreamworld Thomas W Lawson Residence / HipPostcard


The buildings within the dots contained Bill Chases Farm.
The lower dots border Branch St.  Lawson’s estate ” the nest” is on the right. The upper left is the Egypt Railroad station. Race track to the right.

Noises of all sorts were coming from behind the fences, My Dad parked the car and said ”lets go”, Mom declined, I took his hand and  we went through a doorway in the fence.  OMG! ,the monkeys were going crazy— screaming and bouncing all over their cage– there must have been 50 of them—along with monkey noises were tropical birds–parrots— way more than I can remember!
A call from my Dad– Bill!—Bill! — you around? If Mr. Chase didn’t hear — I could understand.  A turn around the corner of the barn revealed Bill Chase, wild animal keeper, then the ”Hi Bill’s” , hand shaking and ”how the hell are ya’s”!

It was evident that the Bill’s knew each other for some time– I never did find out!
As they chatted–more like screaming  at each other–over the noises,
I tried to take it all in, rubbernecking in all directions!
As I settled down,and  looking off to cages with big cats, A THUNDERING -TRUMPETING-SCREAM – louder than a train whistle- sent me many feet into the air!!  I don’t remember if I saw the Earth’s curvature—-when I landed — both Bill’s were laughing—THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!
Mr Chase told Dad he didn’t have much time, he was meeting a client looking at a big cat.  We got to see the ”Big Cat” a Leopard, a rather tame Leopard, I was about three feet from it, and long enough to get my fill of smell !  In fact, the stay was long enough to not only smell,  but burn your eyes!   Being the summer of 1941, there was never another visit to this farm.
WW ll  saw to that!

”Bill” Chase, far right.  Location of photo unknown.This article was published in the BILLBOARD NEWSPAPER,  1955.

 

Halifax, Mass., July 30. 1955

Chase Wild Animal Farm a landmark in Egypt Massachusetts for 20 years, opened recently in this new location with three times the area and a bigger operation for plant and stock.
Zoning laws and the growing need for expansion has been a problem for years for Charles P. Chase, “Bill”. Last spring he found a spot on Route 106, Plymouth St. in this town.
Since space permits, many of the animals will be allowed to roam within the confines of natural settings. In Egypt they were confined to cages due to the limited space.

The Animals included are, Elephants, Zebras, many types of Deer,Leopards, Llama’s, various spices of Monkeys, Tropical birds & Waterfowl.

Chase has set the admission at 50¢ for adults & 25¢ for muppetts.

This classified ad was placed in the Billboard newspaper, August 14, 1943.

African Lion, $ 40,000.
African Leopard, $ 100,000.
Lima, $200.,Emu, $200., Paca, $20., Coopers Hawk, $75.
Wildcat, $25., Blue Fox, $25.
Hampster, $1., Parakeets, $ 5. @ pr.
Tame Ringtail Monkey, $500., Boa Constrictor, $4.00 @ foot.
Black Raccoons,$ 10., De-scented Skunks, $7.50.,
Otter, $50.
Chase Wild Animal Farm.

A pendant available from the new farm in Halifax.

More reading;
https://cranberrycountymagazine.blogspot.com/2017/03/the-chase-wild-animal-farm-mystery.html

As I look back on my visits to Bill Chase’s Wild Animal Farm I was one lucky youngster, in spite of that Thundering Trumpeting Scream that scared me into space!

“WILD ANIMALS are less WILD and more human than many humans of this world” — Munia Khan.

 

A note from a Farm neighbor;

Andrea ,

Ray Freden i loved Chase wild animal farm. a Monkey got loose from there and got into my friends house on Country way. They came home from the store and walked in the kitchen to see this monkey tearing the kitchen apart. what a mess he made.

 

W. Ray Freden
Seaview, Marshfield MA, 70 years.
Pembroke, Maine, 15 years.

The Cape Cod Clam Decoy

Hello to my friends and followers;
Digging around in my nearly lost collection of “everything I’ll never use”, I came across the below, a tongue-in-cheek bit of literature describing the history of clam hunting.
This was the work of Timothy Jumper of Hingham MA. A very talented wood carver, and a man that wears many different hats.

I met Tim on the craft show circuit many years ago. I had a number of years behind me as a decoy artist carving shorebird, waterfowl & fish decoys. When I spotted a “clam decoy” on his counter, I was just blown away! I had heard of many different birds & animals being decoyed — but never a CLAM!
With a few questions to Tim about his clam decoys for sale, his answers led me to believe that I was being gulled — he then handed me a description note that he included with a sale of his hand carved clam decoys. Upon my first scan of this, I had a great laugh, and rereading many more times along with many more laughs.

Tim has graciously given me permission to use his wonderful work — I added a few photos & sketches — Enjoy.

Tim is now retired and,

 

The Cape Cod Clam Decoy 

The native peoples of North America were using decoys on their clam flats many hundreds of years before the coming of the first Europeans.
The Wampanoags of Cape Cod would set out empty shells, or clam-shaped stones painted white, to entice the wary mollusks out of the mud and onto the shore where they can be captured by camouflaged hunters concealed in blinds and wielding clam clubs.

Sketch by W. Ray Freden

In 1628 Miles Standish noted in his diary: “Ye Natives doe delite to pursue Clammes withe clubbes & Dequoyies.”
The colonists imitated this practice, but improved upon the decoys by carving them out of wood — typically white pine or cedar. This enabled them to more accurately imitate the features of this species being hunted, as well as to depict secondary sex characteristics — often exaggerated — which led to much higher bag numbers during the rutting season (January through December). They also began the practice of placing the decoys on sticks to make them visible from a greater distance.
Clams have almost no sense of smell and very poor hearing, thus clam calls, though sometimes tried, have never proven effective, but their eyesight is keen: A decoy on a six inch stick can be seen by an adult male clam on a clear day at sea-level from a distance of 40 rods ( one Furlong), provided , of course, that he is looking.
Although clamming with decoys is highly efficient it is an occupation fraught with danger, and it is owing to its perilous nature that it came to be replaced by the safer but more arduous method method of digging.
Clams have a great deal of pride, and though usually docile they become irate and wrathful when they realize they have been gulled and made to look foolish.
From 1680 to 1889, over 2500 Cape Cod clam hunters were killed outright or permanently maimed by clams enraged to discover that they had been lured out of the comfort of their mud by a bit of painted wood.

Sketch by W. Ray Freden

In May of 1756 two Chatham men were victims of an especially vicious clam attack: Their hideously mutilated corpses were found stuffed headfirst, inside their hip boots. The ever-increasing risk of such attacks—- called ”shellings” —- served to scare off all but the greediest and most foolhardy clam hunters, and by the end of the end of the 19th century even those few had abandoned their decoys, or died using them.

N.B.
The clam decoy you have purchased is an authentic reproduction, intended for decorative purposes only. Wooden Images disclaims any responsibility for death or bodily injury resulting from the use of this product for the hunting of clams.


Tim’s Clam Decoy’s, two hen’s and a Drake
Photo by Tim Jumper

Story by  © Tim Jumper
Hingham MA

 

Revived and added to by W. Ray Freden
Down East Maine
“The way life should be”

 

 

Pine Island

With all this turmoil within our country as well as around the world my mind races back to the ”Good Old Days”.  Over 75 years ago ( Age 10)  I seemed to be having the time of my life in spite of WWll raging in Europe & the South Pacific, our lives seemed to go on peacefully.   Pine Island was a peaceful acre of isolation a few stone’s throw away.
Yes, many of you have read this before, but many new followers haven’t scrolled far enough back to enjoy my adventures of Island life.
In doing summertime things, time has not allowed me to write an adventure not yet published, so, I’m passing on to you again ” As I remember Pine Island”.   Continue reading to clear your head for a few minutes.      
Ray.


As I remember Pine Island, looking west from Broad Creek, c. 1946. Sketch by Ray Freden.

Pine Island is a small island just off the shore of Seaview, between Warren Ave. and Seaview Ave.
It is about an acre with a horse shoe shape, the opening is on the south side and the high tide will flow into it making the center path impassable.

As I remember it, the south path was a dead end. The north path circled around the north end, turning east then south in front of four camps, all of which faced east toward Humarock. The largest camp was on the north end, its entrance facing south, with a screened-in porch on the east side. There were two more camps on the west leg; one was never finished. Getting to these camps was a chore for owners, campers and hunters.

The walkway to Pine Island as I remember.
c. 1946. Sketch by Ray Freden. 2013.

A deeply-rutted dirt cart path (now Warren Ave.) ran from Summer Street along the south side of two cornfields, and through a stone wall, turning north. At that turn was a cold clear spring with a wood cover and a chipped porcelain scoop for taking a drink or filling jugs for the campers. The path turned east to the edge of the marsh. There was a turnout for two cars. A long narrow wood walkway ran from the cart path to the west leg. The walkway was only wide enough for one person, and it was underwater at the high tides. The campers would have to carry everything across that walk, which was usually in need of repair. When the summer folks came for vacation, it took hours to unload gear and get it to the camp.



”Sunny Side” The only two story camp on Pine Island.
Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

My first recollection of Pine Island was just before Thanksgiving; I was almost 5. Dad would go to the island to collect bay berries. He would cut them and my job was to carefully put them in a big basket. The island was covered with berries. He would carry the basket back across that rickety walkway; I carried the cutters. The car was parked in the turnout of the cart path.

Then he was off behind the turnout, through the brush, to the red berry bushes, I behind him carrying another basket — more clipping and very carefully stacking. Off we went with two big baskets on the back seat. A stop at the spring for a drink. Oh, was that water cold.

Dad would make bunches of berries and greens for Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations. A few years later, when I was allowed to go to the island alone, I collected berries and greens, and took over his job. I sold the bunches around the neighborhood and up to the end of Summer Street on my bike.

We once encountered hunters in the end camp. There was a sign over the door — it read something about being a hunting camp. My dad had a chat with them.


Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

In the summer, two families from Lowell, MA came  to vacation for most of the summer, they stayed  in the north camp as well as the camp next to the pump.There were 5 kids, two were my age.

Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

I would ride my bike down the cart path, over the walkway, around the north path; I would pass the outhouse, stop and lean my bike against the water pump. We were almost always in bathing suits and tee shirts, so off to the swimming hole we would go.

On the east side of Pine Island was a wooden walkway out to a leg of Broad Creek. At the edge of the creek were a dock, a ladder to a lower landing, and a diving board. The walkways and dock were built mostly from driftwood lumber scavenged from the marsh. The camps also were built from mostly salvaged lumber.

Painting added 4/2019
The walkway and dock from Pine Island to Broad creek.
Sketch by Ray Freden. 2013.

At low tide, I would have mud fights with the kids staying on the island. The older kids would grind the mud into us! Every inch was covered in black, slimy mud. Sometimes we would wait until the tide came in enough to wash off. Other times we would lay near the water pump while another pumped. It took a lot of pumping to clean up, & the water became colder the longer it was pumped. The pumped water on the Island was salty and discolored, used only for washing.

The water pump was located near this camp.
Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

At mid to high tide, we would dive or jump from the board or off the railing. Full high tide would cover the dock and walkway, but only ankle deep. It was a challenge to ride my bike out to the dock, and a bigger challenge to ride back through the water.


The men of the families returning from a fishing trip.
A postcard sent to Bill and Jo Bonney from Ralph Stoddard.
Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

A dory was tied on the south side of the dock. The two men and two older boys would row out through Broad Creek to the clam flats at low tide, dig clams, then go fishing in the river. They would return as the tide came in, going with the tides. There were plenty of flounder, mackerel, cod and haddock in the mouth of the North and South Rivers.

Showing off a flounder.
Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

The men would clean the fish on the dock. I was invited twice for a cookout. This would be the fish fry. I would help with the cooking fire in a stone circle. Plenty of kindling could be found above the high tide line and someone delivered firewood for the campers, by wheelbarrow!

There was a steel cook plate across half of the fireplace. The men filleted the flounder, the women rolled them in cornmeal, and three of us kids kept the fire going. On went the flounder, mackerel and hot dogs. Mmmm —-was that flounder good! I would have no part of mackerel! The haddock and cod were saved for fish chowder.

A cookout on Pine Island was suppertime for the camp people. The fire pit was either going or smoldering most of the time. (When it rained they would cook on the wood stove in the kitchen; it was unbearably hot.) I was invited the day before, so  I begged my Mom to make oatmeal cookies.


This ”Mom” was Mrs. Josephine Bonney and friend Julia Smith.
Compliments of the Larry Bonney family.

The next day, off I went down Station Street, turned down the Pine Island cart path, over the rickety wooden walkway, up the path to the camp, and gave the cookies to the Mrs. The kids were in the water on red inner tubes I had salvaged from the Seaview Garage. I ran down the walkway to the dock, off the diving board to cannonball the two in the tubes. The two older kids had left for the city, and good riddance! Now there were two of us the same age  plus two younger, so we took over the tubes. We stayed in the water until we were blue.

Back to the camp, stashed the tubes under the porch and put wood on the fire pit to warm up. It was nearing their suppertime — they ate much earlier than I was used to, but this was a cookout to me.

All of the perishables were kept in a wood lined hole filled with water, with a cover with a large stone on top. Out came sodas and hot dogs. The dogs were all linked together and stayed that way on the cook plate over the fire pit. I remember how hot dogs always had to be cut on opposite  sides to cook properly. These folks didn’t do this. They also put ketchup on their dogs — yuck, mustard only for me!  We filled ourselves with dogs, orange soda and oatmeal cookies.

Just before dusk, out came the midges — they would cover you in a short time and we would have to pump water on our arm and legs to wash them off before we went inside. Inside, we, the kids, would play checkers on the porch, with a kerosene lamp on the table. The adults would play cards in the kitchen with one of those Coleman gas lanterns I so much wanted.

Summer came to an end. The folks from Lowell left. Fall came. The hunters arrived, hung their decoys on the side of their camp, and collected marsh grass to build a blind out near the dock. So many times I would hear their guns banging away early in the morning and again in the late afternoon. I thought to myself, ”Who would want to eat a wild duck?” It wasn’t until years later I found out how good a black duck is!

The next summer, only one family came to the island, with  their younger kids, so my visits were short. I found hanging out in Humarock with my summer friends was a lot more fun, and  jumping off the old bridge as well as the new one, the 1952 bridge was a lot higher.

Now I only went to Pine Island to collect berries in the fall. The camps were no longer used and began to fall apart rapidly. One late evening, I was driving home and there was quite a to do down Warren Ave. — police and fire engines with flashing lights down the end of the Pine Island cart path. I suspected the worst — the camps. I was told the next day that vandals had torched some of the camps! The others left standing were later torched.

I never went back to the island to witness the loss. I never saw my island friends again. My recent visits have been through the eyes of Google Earth. I have now witnessed Pine Island, after people!

Pine Island looking east, without people. Photo by Tony Lambert.

 

There’s no place like camp, I wish I could stay forever.”
–Unknown.

by Ray Freden
Seaview, 70 years.