Boy's Camps on the Cape

I was a counselor at Camp Wampanoag 1963-1965. You can reach me at [email protected]

The camp was owned by three people, Geraldine Watson, a teacher at Nashua Senior High school ,Nashua, N.H., Herald Nash, a Developer from Merrimack, N.H. and Mr. Pattison, also a teacher from some Country Day school in Ohio. I was one of the cooks from 1963 - 1965. The kitchen had two professional chefs and four to six high schoolers in support. As far as the quality of the food went everything was from SS Pierce and prepared to state guidelines as far as nutritional requirements were concerned. Yes those "Clam Bakes" were fantastic, way too much work for those little ***** . No one actually complained to the staff about the food, maybe because we had knives, just kidding. It's interesting to see what past campers actually thought of there experience at the "WAMP". lenrnh.

I was a counselor for one of the boys cabins in the summer of '65. I taught canoeing and beginner's tennis. I honestly don't recall anybody's names, but it was the night we closed the camp for the summer and the counselors were having a campfire. I was sitting next to the boy who died. He just fell over, bam, like that. We all assumed for some time that he had passed out from the beer. We were all somewhat shocked by the event, I can assure you. What a way to end a summer. I ended up going to U of Chicago, spent a few years in submarines, then returned to my new home in Los Angeles. Still here. I was hired by one of the owners of the camp - a Mrs Watson, who was my former senior history teacher at Nashua High, who also wrote my recommendation to U of C. Also, I loved the peanut butter and honey sandwiches. You all take of yourselves; it's a jungle out there.

I was a counselor in 1964 and came to the camp from Texas with another counselor named Russell Saunders. I thought the food was good although I got in trouble by having several of the campers call the food by names that we called the food by at Texas A&M that was not very nice. Charles Perry

I think my father was a counselor then. Unfortunately he passed away last summer

OMG. I was a camper there for 9 years, roughly 1955 to 1964. Had dinner with mister Pat about 25 years ago and in later years met and was friends with Mr Richardson and family in Portland Maine until he died. Anyone ever heard of Jimmy OBrien or Crayford Lindsey?

Hello again. I just finished reading all the posts from 2009 on. I am stunned. I have been reveling in all your posts. Thank you for the memories and all the new info that I never knew. I never knew such a site existed and so many other people had similar feelings. Wampy has been a major influence on my life and probably the best thing my parents ever did for me. Can you imagine anyone now sending their kid away to overnight camp for 8 weeks a summer for 9 years in a row no less?! (Hmm, why DID they want me gone so much??) Absolutely idyllic summers. I was there roughly from 1955 to 1963 or 4. My name is Skip Schirmer and I recognize some of the respondents especially my friend John Nourse. I started out with Jimmy O’Brien and Crawford Lindsey in Mr. Ross’ cabin. He was the bugler and played it well. I was a counselor in later years at a couple of different camps and always tried to get Wampy ideas into the camps. No one ever had a bugle –usually canned taps, revelie, soupy, etc. Did you all ever have your reunion a couple of years ago? I then tented with Johnny Botello for a few years. I think it was Mr. Erickson, senior unit, that used to stick a cold bugle in Johnny’s bunk cause he wouldn’t get up.
John, I thought you started the “fake-out” fad. One memory was of you standing in the senior wash house one evening after a day at the beach bright red from head to toe and in significant pain. We used to play a lot of 4 square on the Super Senior tent platform. After 4-square was started it seemed to take over the off-hours play scene from tether ball. My only claim to Wampy fame was after several years no one could beat me in tether ball except Crawfie Lindsey. He was an amazing athlete as someone said. One time we were playing a girl’s softball team (I think Cohasset) and we were creaming them. Crawfie was pitcher and was told to let them get some runs - so he pitches and the girl at bat connects a nice pop fly looking like it was coming down at Crawfie. So trying to let her score he didn’t even attempt to catch the ball – just stood there and flipped his glove outward with his arm at his side and didn’t the damn ball fall right into the glove! for an out. He couldn’t even miss on purpose.
Reading your posts stimulated a lot of random memories: I had heard that the pool was the largest saltwater swimming pool on the Cape. I was there when they introduced water skiing and it was done in the pool with a rope, large pulley behind the deep end and a car on the access road. Interesting talk about the food. Geez, I was no connoisseur at 8 years old! It seemed fine and fueled me up for activities. One year I sat at a table run by I think a Mr. Sanders or Saunders, and he taught us funny names for food, like salt was “sand”, pepper was “dirt”, milk was “cow”, spoon was “shovel”. So all meal we would ask for things by: “Hey shoot the sand” or “shoot the cow”. I think someone said he got in trouble for that. We campers thought it was a blast. Remember being a waiter! Standing in line in the kitchen to bring all the grub and then clear the dishes? The KYBO (‘keep your bowels open’) was quite a scene. Remember underpants wars – running around in the woods and hills behind tent hill shooting little stones at each other with your underpants elastics (we didn’t lose any eyes that I know of). Anyone remember the inpost and the outpost – great adventures.
As I worked my way up through the years I was finally allowed to captain one of the Tech dinghies in the Parents Day race. We practiced 2 days before and I came in 4th out of 6th. Then the day before the race I came in first. I was pumped. Then on race day with everyone’s parents and the whole camp watching I got a great start and stayed out in front till the last leg when suddenly my outhaul came undone and the damn sail was just flapping in the breeze. All I had time to do was grab the outhaul and hold it onto the end of the boom and finished 5th I think. I was furious when I got to the dock and accusingly asked the counselor why the line had come loose. Another great Wampy lesson: The sailing counselor said: “Weren’t you the captain? Well whose responsibility is it to make sure you’re ship shape?” I was stunned and had nothing to say. Never forgot that lesson though. Speaking of sailing, one year Mr. Pat organized a naming contest to name the 3 Cape Cod dinghies. He announced the winning names: Huffer, Luffer, and Puffer which I had entered. What a shocker!
I think it is safe for me to finally make a confession about the horseback riding years. This was instituted on my watch and I fell in love with it. One day as a super senior I met a young local woman named Susan (no last names to protect the innocent) riding her horse passed Wampy. I got a wicked crush on her (much older than I) and so I used to sneak out during rest hour, saddle up Pedro or Silky, ride out on the trails behind the stables towards the inpost and meet up with her. She would take me riding through the woods for an hour and I’d get back in time for end of rest hour. I think that ended because I found out she was kind of going with the riding counselor. I never had a chance anyway.
As I said in my first post, years later I encountered Mr. Pat, Mr. Richardson, Margaret Brush, and I think Peter Brush once. I am close friends with Mr. Richardson’s daughter, Carol, to this day. You should have been there an evening in 1980. I was sitting at the Richardson’s dinner table (I had just moved to Portland, Maine with my new wife) and we were reminiscing about our pasts and suddenly it dawned on me who Carol’s father was – Vance Richardson, head of intermediate unit!, and then he remembered me – well there went the evening, I’m sorry to say, for the other diners.
Sorry to hear about Mr. Crone. In tribute - just one more story. Bunch of us were taking our final Junior Life Saving test in the pool lodge, when I don’t know, Skid Davis maybe, came running into the lodge yelling “OMG, Mr. Crone is drowning!” So we all jumped up and ran out to the pool and there was Mr. Crone thrashing around in the deep end. So every last one of us jumped into the pool to save him. We all swam up to him and tried to grab him around the neck to drag him to safety. He would have none of it and tossed each of us in the air one by one. Well NO ONE thought of the correct procedure which of course was to throw a ring buoy or use a pole, NOT jump in with a drowning man twice your size. We all flunked.
Well, Dad pulled me out my ninth year half way through (end of July). I cried my eyes out all the way home to the Boston area and never saw Wampy again till many years later when I walked through and saw the huge pool vanished and housing being built on campus. That was the second and last time I shed a tear for Wampy. Just about every sport, hobby, interest and love I have was initiated at Wampy.
Sorry about the length. For whoever made it through – any comments?
Skip Schirmer

I was a counselor there, 1952-1955, if I remember correctly. I was the youngest counselor, a junior counselor, and had a tent of young boys, somewhere in ages 7-9. I remember one kid, blond, named Peter Fritz, from LI I think, his father gave me a very generous tip, lol, at the end of the summer. I taught canoeing.
Art Broadhurst, [email protected]. Would love to catch up with anyone who was there around that time and especially if they have pictures. My entire collection of 35mm slides "disappeared" on a move from NY to FL many years ago.

I was a jr counselor/counselor 1952-1955 era. I have a note on here.

I was a junior counselor there in 1952 and a counselor for several years after. Really great place, lots of fond memories. Do you have any pictures? I taught canoeing.

I was there 1952-55, junior counselor among mostly college kids, a really good bunch of guys. Bill Mulliken and Dorothy Taylor were owners/directors, and I remember Lee Pattison as the program director. Some of the best experiences of my life. I taught canoeing and would love to hear from anyone who was there in those years. Art Broadhurst [[email protected]]

I guess I would have to take issue with your dismal remembrances of the Camp. I came from a lower middle class family that lived in Washington DC and I had been to several previous camps as a camper but at Wampanoag as a junior counselor and subsequently as a counselor, 1952-1954. I do not remember the food as either good or bad, it was just camp food similar to what I had experienced elsewhere and subsequently. I have very fond memories.
Art Broadhurst [email protected]

Was looking for info on Camp Wampanoag and Buzzards Bay for a blog (Edit [Moderator]: Link removed) on a nostalgic motor/sail through the Cape Cod Canal last year and came across this blog. Good times, good friends. Hello to fellow campers and counselors. Sam Lowry

Art;
I likely overlapped you by one year in 1955. Do you remember Mr. Ross, the bugler? Look at my long note above - do you remember any of those campers? My only pictures are the yearly Wampy picture books.

Skip Schirmer

I was a camper at Wampanoag every summer from around 1965 until I got sad word that it would not be reopening one winter day, possibly in 1970. The war games were super fun. I always looked forward to the clashes between the Wampas and the Noags. Sailing in the small dinghies was great fun and I also enjoyed rifler a lot with Mr. Howard Ziegler. Over the years i have wondered a lot about the mandatory "health inspections" each week. It seemed perverse to be expected to disrobe in front of a large group of counselors and other campers. We were told that they were checking us for "butt rash" and some of the counselors seems somewhat preoccupied with our youthful fannies if I'm not being paranoid. Anyhow there was a lot to be said for the place in terms of having fun. I also liked the wood shop there. I was definitely present at camp for the moon landing on July 20, 2019, which will be 50 years ago in a few more months. In fact i just ordered commemorative coins for the moon landing that were just issued this past week. We were all allowed to stay up late so we could watch the astronauts land on television in the mess hall.

Greetings from a one time Noag Captain! It was a lot of fun reading all these posts from over the years - thanks so much for the memories. I was at Camp Wampy for 3 summers (6 weeks each as I recall) from 56 to 59 I think. I spent 1 year on top of the hill, and 2 years down by the marsh as one of the older boys. I was from Kentucky and that became a nick name at times. That or "Johnny Reb".
I guess its demise was inevitable. Mrs. Taylor was ancient even when I was there and I really felt like it was going downhill. Some activities were still going strong, and others declining. My sister went for just part of one summer about 1958 to Camp Cohasset ( I think I have the name right) which was just down the Cape a few miles. It was really declining. I remember visiting with my parents, and the boats were all sunk in the water and not being used any more. She couldn't stand it and my parents got her out after a couple of weeks.
Anyway, here is a story about declining aspects. When I was there doing some of the Buzzards Bay sailing (in Rhodes xx I think) I heard from the instructors that for many years the camp did overnight sailing trips from Wampy to Camp Cohasset, staying there for a day or so and then sailing back which would have been pretty neat I thought (visit the girl campers etc.!). But it was cancelled just a year or so before I got there. Probably because Cohasset had let the docks collapse.
I do remember some good times at Camp Wampy, such as having Boston Cream Pie, which we got every now and then. For a kid from Kentucky it was quite a treat. Another treat was the annual Parents Visit Day. Better food as some of you have noted, but also lots of exotic cars. I really remember wandering the fields where the parents cars were parked and admiring all the Rolls Royces and such - not too many of them back home!
I used to have a couple of the annual summer booklets they gave out at the end of the season, with lots of pictures and notes from other campers but sadly they got lost in some move years ago.
Thanks again for all your comments. It is like being transported back in time!!
John F. Cowling

I was at camp the summers of '53-'55. I learned to sail in their sailing dinghies right off the camp's dock in Back River, plus occasional trips into
Pocasset Harbor to sail their 3 Beat-abouts(?), ~16ft wooden sloops (I think they seated four boys on either side).
Camp had a salt water swimming pool pumped from the waterfront which was a mud flat at low water. A trailer-mounted engine-driven pump, called Gertie by Mr. Pat(ttison), was the camp's standby fire apparatus and swimming pool pump. There was also at least one hand-cranked claxon on the bluff near the water as a fire horn.
Mr. Pat held campfire on Saturday nights, cloaked in a blanket and feathered head-dress, and heard both grievances and commendations from the assembled "braves".
My counselor was @agbroadhurs / Art Broadhurst ("Mr. Broadhurst" to me, then) for two summers (one year in a cabin and one in a tent) and "Gar" Cranny, the third summer.
I used to get in trouble, mostly for my mouth, and have to go see Mr. Milliken for a (usually minor) reprimand and some time out. It was a scary prospect but I remember him as being pretty even-handed. His son Billy was in my cabin or the next door one.
The camp was owned by Mrs. (Dorothy) Taylor. She interviewed me at our home in Newton, MA before I applied for my first season. I was to turn ten that summer. Some years later, my family moved to the same street as Mrs. Taylor and I had the privilege of getting to know her a little better as a neighbor. @alees - I remember your great aunt as a kind lady who liked and respected kids and treated them like "real people" (not everyone does that).
Camp wasn't the happiest place for me (but not many places were, back then - my fault, not theirs!) - I didn't get along with others real well. I enjoyed the sailing program but I pretty much drifted through most of those summers as something of a loner. I'd often hang out in the 'tack room' of one of the camp buildings, studying knots, looking at library books in the camp library (same room), or talking to Jake, an older camper who maintained the library. It was Jake who introduced me to the Hardy Boys books.
My Dad showed up in his motor boat for an unexpected visit one afternoon. The staff were very much embarrassed that they couldn't find his son, until someone finally looked in the otherwise empty tack-room building, where I was learning knots by myself after the day's activities.
There were pretty informal Sunday Vespers services, just some hymns in the
camphouse by the pool. This might have been the first time I'd heard or joined in singing in harmony.
I remember visiting the camp nurse for a belly ache one night. After she determined it was minor, she taught to place my hand over the achy spot to help it to settle down. She never said this was anything special or out of the ordinary, just told me it might help (which it did, and still does). It wasn't until several decades later I learned about a healing technique called Reiki!
I still call myself a sailor (retired), thanks to the solid base in the fundamentals taught to me at camp, and some solid nudges in that direction from my Dad. I sing what harmony I can still manage, and I think I could find my way into Pocasset Back River in my sleep, even if I might not recognize the camp site today.

Jeff Stone, Wampanoag '53 - '55