Brian TheCaptain Johnson

Thy sea, O God, so great

My boat so small.

It cannot be that any happy fate

Will me befall

Save as Thy goodness opens paths for me

Through the consuming vastness of the sea.

--from The Prayer of the Breton Fishermen by Winfred Garrison

Gone from our sight but not from our memories. This past Thursday night, Kingston harbour lost a storied sailor - Brian Johnson formerly the Captain (nautical) of the Wolfe Island ferry, four decades with the Ontario Ministry of Transportation Eastern Region Ferries, instructor, mentor, historian, writer, author, social media contributor (his 'handle' is the title of this post), man of faith and family, people-person, relaxing retiree:

Brian's biography is beyond the scope of this post, but his unsurpassed knowledge of all things nautical in and around Kingston harbour, after a fifty-year career on the water, was not kept just to himself, it was shared. He relished spreading his stories and those of the ferry service predecessors, both human and hulled, with diverse audiences. As fellow historians, Brian sent me photos of him enjoying his copies of both my books about Kingston's industrial waterfront on his patio.

We were at the Iroquois Lock in August, 2016 when the Canadian Empress approached unbound, heading for stops at Prescott and overnight at Brockville on its Ottawa-Kingston six-day cruise. Brian watches from the bridge wing as the plucky cruise ship progresses through the lock:

This began an online association with Brian. While spending time at the Queen's University Archives, I would come cross archival views of the Wolfe Island ferry in various eras, sharing these with Brian, wondering if he'd seen them before. Often he hadn't, though he was rarely stumped by a photo, and his enthusiastic responses invariably included block capitals and lots of exclamation marks. His interest in seeing what I'd sent him jumped off the screen at me!

While discussing a transportation topic online (buses not ferries), we discovered that we had a family connection: Brian and his Dad knew my wife's uncle Lloyd who was a bus driver and later a part-time supervisor. "Lloyd was also a driver at my Dad's car lot - Johnson Motors - for years. Bringing cars back from Toronto-area auctions. I knew his Dad Mervil as well.  Just GREAT guys!" Mervil was a farmer and ended up operating farms for Brian's family. Brian was his 'apprentice' at the tender age of 11. 'Merv' taught him all about farming: cutting, raking, haying, and Brian said he really looked up to him. 

Brian continued, "I can't believe the connection either! After these many years the dots connect! I consider Eric THE FOUNDER of the many 'jigsaw puzzle' pieces missing in our local Kingston and area history. And now the family "connection"! Mr. & Mrs. Snider (Merv & Ma) also looked after us kids when Mom went into hospital for emergency surgery in mid-sixties. They really were "aunt and uncle" to us. Thanks Eric!!! - Brian Johnson".

I'm 'borrowing' this great photo posted to social media by Shauna Kingstone, Brian's fellow board member of the Wolfe Island Historical Society (WIHS) showing him in his home setting, a nautical chart of Wolfe Island surrounded by photo mementoes on the wall:

 Finally meeting Brian at my presentation to the WIHS on the island last summer:

Brian will be missed by his wife Cathy and family. When I arrived at the church where the WIHS meeting was to be held, I met Cathy as she was driving away to pick up another attendee but she told me, "I just put him in there". I still smile about that one and I am grateful we finally had that chance to meet. A view toward Fort Henry from the ferry on the trip home - one that would be very familiar to Brian from his many passages on that three-mile crossing:

I am standing on the sea shore, a ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says: “She is gone.” Gone! Where? Gone from my sight—that is all. 

She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination. The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says, “She is gone” there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout: “There she comes!” 

-from I Am Standing on the Seashore by Henry Van Dyke

Here is Brian's obituary published online by Arbor Memorial:

On the evening of May 8, 2025, encircled by the love and tears of his family, our beloved Captain sailed his final ship into the distant sunset. With Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra playing in the background, we held his hands and recounted many of his countless stories as he took his final breaths. Like the journey of life itself, it was as beautiful as it was tragic and we will be forever grateful for having been there with him.

Brian leaves behind his treasured wife of 48 years, Cathy (nee Bricker), his adored children, April and Paul Di Rinaldo, and Patrick and Kay (nee Kenney), his cherished grandchildren Ruby, Georgia, Freddie and Frankie, and his niece Ciera Deir. He is predeceased by his parents Jack and Lorna (nee Patterson), his siblings Barry, Lu-Ann and Cheri, and his best friend Don Strople.

Brian was born and raised in Kingston, Ontario, however his heart and soul belonged to Wolfe Island. His was not an easy childhood and the steady and predictable life provided by his grandparents, Johnnie and Violet Johnson, at their farm on the 5th Line provided him with the peace and stability he needed. Indeed, his Nana and Grampy were his anchors, keeping him close to the Island for the rest of his life.

At the ripe old age of about six, he captained his first boat, a rowboat, across the St. Lawrence Seaway from his family cottage to Milton Island, and the rest, as they say, is history. At seventeen (a year after his first solo flight as a pilot), he was officially licensed to captain his family’s Lyman cruiser, the Jamie-Lyn, for harbour and charter tours of the area. Around this time, he would tell people that one day he would be captain of the Wolfe Island ferry. And, after devoting years to the tour boat operations in Rockport and Gananoque, he had enough sea time to get his Minor Waters license. On September 11, 1981, he walked on board the Wolfe Islander III as the newest crew member, and knew he was where he was meant to be. He worked hard, studied everything he could, got his Master Inland 350 license, and on April 20, 1989 he achieved his ultimate goal: being appointed Captain of the Wolfe Islander III, where he would stay until beyond his retirement.

In 1970, Brian had to leave high school before finishing to join the workforce and promised himself he would finish one day. In his 30s, while working multiple jobs, he not only attained his diploma with honours through correspondence, but achieved a mark of 100% in OAC English. Not long after that, one of his beloved mentors, Captain Buck Mullin, passed away. Brian felt that that Captain Mullin's legacy of tireless service to the people of Wolfe Island needed to be told and preserved, so he wrote an article for the Kingston Whig Standard. Thus began his passion for writing. For the next nearly 40 years, he married his love of storytelling with his love of marine history, Kingston, Wolfe Island, and the many characters he came to know, to become a rather prolific writer and storyteller in the area. His speaking engagements - wherein he would share the oral history and a slideshow of historical photos of Wolfe Island, the boats that served the Islanders, and all of the lore that gets passed around by locals - were attended by thousands of people over the years.

In the early 2000s he met Wolfe Island resident, Victoria Stewart, who shared a passion for local history, and together they founded the Wolfe Island Historical Society. Brian was working on the ferry the night they appointed the first board of directors, and when the phone rang in the wheel house after their meeting, he was shocked to learn that he was unanimously appointed president - a title he wore almost as proudly as Captain.

The ‘boats’ were a significant part of his identity, but anyone who spent time with Brian knew that his family was at the centre of everything in his life. He loved his wife and children so much, and when the grandchildren arrived, he was beside himself with pride and joy. The last few summers spent together in laughter and joy at the family cottage on his beloved Wolfe Island will comfort his family as they try to continue on without him.

Brian had an impact on so many people in his 71 years. It is hard to believe he isn’t just around the corner with a book in his hands, or getting ready to catch the next boat because he’s been called in for overtime, or in his office lost in papers and thoughts, or having his 17th cup of coffee of the day, or prank calling someone, or writing his next story, or trying to make someone laugh at the worst possible time…

He was a beacon of integrity, strength and generosity. He believed in finding the humour in life - no matter how bad things got. He believed in the underdog. He believed that empathy is born in the sharing of our stories. He believed in forgiveness. And he believed in life after death. So, the next time you look out onto the water, know he is out there somewhere, plotting the course, watching the weather, and making sure we get home safely.

O Captain! Our Captain! You were truly one in a million. We will miss you for the rest of our lives.