Imagine standing on Wolfe Island, Ontario, and clearly hearing the church bells chime from Cape Vincent, New York, just across the St. Lawrence River. For over two centuries, this narrow stretch of water, a mere whisper separating two nations, was faithfully traversed by ferries run by the same dedicated family.
This historic cross-border connection, a microcosm of the larger Canada-U.S. relationship, has now sadly come to an end. However, this time, the reason isn’t a heated political dispute, but rather a deeply personal one.
The beloved ferry now sits silently in its winter berth, overgrown with weeds, its engine quiet for the entire summer. The last Horne family member with the captain’s license to pilot the vessel has passed away, effectively severing this long-standing link. Both the ferry and its accompanying wharves on either side of the border have been listed for sale.
Only major global events like the September 11th terrorist attacks and the COVID-19 pandemic border closures had previously paused the Horne ferry service. Despite ongoing geopolitical tensions, Bruce Horne, who dedicated 43 years to the ferry before retiring, remains hopeful for its return, a sentiment echoed by politicians from both nations.
Standing amidst the scattered remains of the wharf’s sign, ravaged by a recent windstorm, Mr. Horne lamented, “It’s truly regrettable to sever this connection between Wolfe Island and the Cape. While stereotypes might suggest Americans are unaware of Canada, that’s far from the truth for our neighbors in northern New York. Our communities share a profound sense of closeness.”
At a sprawling 48 square miles – more than twice the size of Manhattan – Wolfe Island maintains a tranquil pace, hosting just about 1,600 year-round residents. Its unpaved, narrow roads, winding past quaint farms, see little traffic, serving only two schools and a single village.
Nestled at the convergence of Lake Ontario and the St. Lawrence River, Wolfe Island is situated at one edge of the picturesque Thousand Islands archipelago – a region boasting anywhere from 1,149 to 1,849 islands, depending on the definition!
A map visually represents Wolfe Island in Lake Ontario, Canada, highlighting Point Alexandria on the island and Cape Vincent, New York, directly across the St. Lawrence River, illustrating the geographical context of this historic ferry route.
The intricate, zigzagging border carved through the river was a frequent point of contention following both the American Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. It wasn’t until 1822 that a dedicated commission successfully settled this long-standing dispute.
Generations of Wolfe Island residents, including the Horne family, trace their lineage back to British loyalists who settled here after the American Revolution. Before Canada became a nation in 1867, and up until recently, many islanders enjoyed a quick 10-minute ferry ride to visit family and friends just across the border in New York.
The William Darrell, named after the Horne brothers who operated the ferry until 1950, was built in 1952 and could transport approximately 11 cars across the river.
While the community deeply misses the Horne Ferry, its discontinuation presents more of an inconvenience than a full-blown crisis. The island’s primary lifeline to the outside world remains the two larger provincial ferries that connect Wolfe Island to Kingston, a bustling Canadian city known for its universities, military base, and a formidable 19th-century fortress.
Bob Albin, a frequent vacationer from Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, first discovered Wolfe Island twelve years ago and has been returning ever since. This month, his journey with his wife, Katherine, and daughter, Janet, stretched an extra hour. They had to take a bridge into Ontario before catching the ferry from Kingston to reach the island.
“It’s truly diminished the joy of the journey,” Mr. Albin remarked about the ferry’s closure. “The crossing from Cape Vincent was simply idyllic; we genuinely miss that experience.”
The Albins were enjoying a meal at the Wolfe Island Pub and Pizzeria in Marysville, affectionately known as ‘the Wipp’ by locals. This establishment, alongside a nearby hotel bar and a general store, serves as one of the island’s few vital community hubs.
While restocking a cooler of soft drinks, James Kirkham, owner of the Wipp, noted that the ferry’s absence had also erased a specific customer segment: those who would briefly visit his restaurant after crossing from the U.S. while waiting for the Kingston ferry.
“It’s just been so much part of our culture and history that not having that as a link to Cape Vincent has been very missed,” Mr. Kirkham explained. He conceded, however, that Canadian interest in visiting the United States had waned significantly since Mr. Trump’s return to the presidency.
“We absolutely want it back,” he asserted, highlighting that statistics confirm a strong, continued influx of American visitors to Canada.
Surprisingly, the Horne family didn’t originate the ferry service. Historical records suggest it began in 1802 as a rowboat operation under Samuel Hinckley. The demand for the ferry surged with the railroad’s arrival in Cape Vincent in 1852, expanding its duties to include Canadian government mail transport. While it also carried farm produce and fish, the service wasn’t profitable enough for the Hinckleys to abandon farming entirely.
Through marriage, the Hornes eventually took control of the ferry business. Rowboats were eventually replaced by larger barges, and in 1952, the purpose-built ferry “William Darrell” (named after the Horne brothers who managed the service until 1950) was launched, capable of transporting approximately 11 cars.
At 75, Bruce Horne recalls spending his formative years aboard the ferry, despite his original ambition to become a geologist. However, his father’s passing during his college years altered his path. Upon graduation, he earned his captain’s license and began a demanding schedule of 22 daily trips between May and October, expertly fitting 150 to 300 cars onto the ferry’s deck each day.
Even as it idles in its off-season berth, the William Darrell appears remarkably seaworthy, although Mr. Horne sighs at the absence of its customary annual paint job, which would typically conceal the tire marks left by countless cars on its deck.
However, its return to active service on the river remains uncertain.
This month, Cape Vincent village committed $225,000 to purchase the American wharf, hoping to safeguard the ferry’s future. Discussions regarding the Canadian dock with the Wolfe Island municipality are ongoing. The Canada Border Services Agency, however, has made it clear that the ferry will not resume operations until the outdated customs shack on the Canadian side, a structure from at least the 1960s, is replaced. Mr. Horne estimates this renovation could cost up to 400,000 Canadian dollars (approximately $290,000 U.S.).
Adding to the uncertainty, the question of who will purchase the William Darrell and cover its essential inspection and registration fees is yet to be resolved.
According to Mr. Horne, the ferry has consistently operated at a financial loss since the onset of the pandemic.
Despite his deep desire to see the ferry operational again, Mr. Horne, after a decade of retirement, has no plans to return to work.
“For us, growing up, that ferry was the absolute center of our world,” Mr. Horne reflected. “People would arrive here for picnics or explore on their bicycles. It was truly where life unfolded.”
