The day Billy Cameron died, May 20, 2020, was unpleasantly windy. It was cold the previous
night, with temps dipping to the mid-thirties. This scenario is not unusual in the Boundary
Waters, and most who travel in canoe country this time of year do so because many of the pesky
insects known to haunt this vast wilderness are not yet in full force. Bugs or no bugs, it slowly
warmed up throughout the day in coordination with strong gusts of wind from the south and east.
Though it was the third week of the month, the ice had only recently come off some of the larger
lakes in the BWCA and along the Gunflint Trail. It’s typical for a lake the size of Tuscarora to
maintain a surface temperature of about forty-seven degrees in mid-May.
In the early evening hours, Cameron, who had just celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday
the day before, was fishing from shore when his line tangled in the rocky depths. He and his
travel companions, Curtis Weeks and Taylor Johnson, had rented a three-person Kevlar canoe
known as a Minnesota 3 from nearby Tuscarora Lodge and Canoe Outfitters. Cameron didn’t
want to snap his line to free the snag, so he and his friends put on their life jackets and hopped in
the canoe. After untangling the line, they decided to continue fishing from the canoe near the
island. Moments later, they were hit by an easterly gust, and the canoe capsized. The three young
men spent nearly fifteen minutes trying to right the watercraft to no avail. Cameron, the leader
and most experienced of the group, decided they should swim toward land.
The men were in peril. Weeks and Johnson were able to reach solid ground safely,
though not easily in their heavy boots and clothing. Weeks made it back to the island, haggard
and freezing after barreling through waves for nearly four hundred yards. Meanwhile, Johnson
ended up on the north shore of the lake after he realized he couldn’t move through the waves, but
only with them. After reaching land, both Johnson and Weeks started to holler. They could
barely hear each other through the wind. At the very least they knew each survived the ordeal.
Meanwhile, Cameron was neither heard nor seen. It’s an image that haunts his girlfriend, Nataly
Yokhanis to this day: Cameron drifting alone in the cold water, fighting for air. His lungs likely
filled with water at some point, the result of his desperate gasps for oxygen. The cold water gave
him little hope as the situation deteriorated from scary to desperate within minutes, perhaps
seconds. Cameron’s death was quick. It was not messy.
