After an outbreak of the Norwalk Virus in 2004, Camp Couchiching returned to action this year as a stronger, more tight-knit operation.

   As the nightmare outbreak rampaged through his camp, director Andrew Martin stood in somber silence at the doorway to his health centre quarantine unit. “What is going on here?” he wearily asked himself. Entering the makeshift hospital, he foresaw many hours ahead before once again sleeping in his own bed.

In the latter parts of the summer of 2004, Camp Couchiching, located near Orillia, Ont., approximately one hour north of Toronto, fell victim to a viral scourge, striking dozens of campers and staff personnel.

“It was terrible to witness,” recalls Martin, shuddering at the memory of those tense days and nights. His main concerns: tending to the sick and trying to keep their spirits up, all while working the plan to stem the spread of the virus.

 In retrospect, there were moments when Martin felt his worst fears would be realized. However, he also learned the importance of a total team effort in taking control of a crisis. “Thankfully, I have a great bunch of women and men here to rely on,” he declares.

Everything began normally as the last cluster of campers arrived at Couchiching (or Camp Cooch as it is affectionately called) on August 22, 2004, for the one-week program marking summer’s end. Camp orientation went routinely, Martin recalls. It was his first year as director at Cooch, a 30-acre integrated camp offering canoeing, high and low ropes, snorkeling and wilderness skills designed for kids aged seven to 16, including those with mobility and behaviour issues. The season was shaping up as one of the camp’s best with about 170 campers coming through the gates, in addition to 60 staff members residing on-site from May through October.

 “New arrivals go to the health centre first for their check up,” notes Martin. “Everyone in that particular group checked in healthy.”

 Two days later, at midnight, the first tremors of a problem erupted. It was on this night that one of the campers became ill, vomiting in his cabin. Martin immediately reported the incident to his two full-time nurses.

The next morning, more campers from that cabin showed similar signs of illness. “It looked like bad cases of the stomach flu,” states Martin. “The symptoms were identical: diarrhea, vomiting, cramps, headache, fever and chills. We remained vigilant.”

As that day progressed, campers from the adjoining cabin were stricken; later, the cabin directly across from the outbreak origin was hit. Martin determined it was time to involve the Simcoe County Public Health Unit.

Fecal samples from the sick were rushed to the local public health laboratory for testing. “The results, however, were inconclusive for the Norwalk virus, our prime suspect,” says Marsha Williams, one of the members of the camp’s board of directors, who became apprised of the escalating crisis by phone. “The gastrointestinal virus raging in Couchiching was referred to by public health officials as Norwalk-like — that’s as much as they could tell us.”

The camp’s executive team was quickly brought up to speed on Norwalk. More specifically, that it is highly contagious, is spread by the “fecal-oral” route, and that direct contact with an infected person is the main mode of transmission, though very rarely fatal to young people.

“Because the illness lasts from 24 to 48 hours, it was likely contracted by the first camper before he arrived here,” explains Williams. “We tested our food stores and our drinking water — all were clean.” 
 
With the aid of the camp’s nurses, a three-stage quarantine system housed within the health centre building was swiftly put into full-scale operation. Beds and cots were prepared for the stricken campers and for the rising tide of ailing staff coming in.

To combat the contagion, the action plan hinged on dividing the camp, isolating the healthy away from the unwell to limit the amount of interaction. Quarantines were cordoned according to the stage of the illness presented: those feeling queasy (the initial phase of the infection) were placed in quarantine level one; others, showing full-blown symptoms, were confined to separate quarters; and another area was restricted to those recuperating from their bout with the bug.

To gather more resources, Martin called in additional volunteers from among his staff, and the camp’s board of directors and alumni. “Everyone eagerly pitched in,” says Martin. “Some teams were assigned to clean the infected cabins, top to bottom, using a concentrated bleach solution; others phoned parents to let them know of their child’s condition.”

Dave Campos, the camp’s wellness director, was in the thick of it, clocking hours at the improvised infirmary. “I was there to help boost the kids’ morale, playing board games with them and watching lots of movies together. If the nurses needed some medical supplies, I got it. Everyone did their part.”

Program director Chad Walsh, an eight-year veteran of Cooch, was on phone detail, continually updating parents. “They were grateful for our ongoing communication, and most understood the challenges facing us,” he emphasizes. “I think everyone came out the better for this.”

Walsh is quick to point out that although there is an established crisis management strategy in place at Cooch, the Norwalk outbreak did bring in its wake a valuable learning ex-perience.

“We now have a clear chain of command to meet any future crises. If the director isn’t available, I take over command of the camp. Everyone knows who the bottom line person is at all times. We also have anti-bacterial hand-washing liquid dispensed in every part of the camp, which must be applied as often as needed.”

Looking back on the incident, Martin agrees that some good emerged from the crisis. When it was over (August 28), with the remaining sick kids getting a bus ride home to their parents, he knew they had survived the worst crisis in the camp’s 59-year history. The virus had stricken more than 34 per cent of its campers and about 40 per cent of its counsellors and management personnel.

Proud of how his people responded to the situation, Martin adds he is pleased to report that more than 90 per cent of his 2004 staff decided to return this year, as well as many of the campers, who were offered a free fall program last year as compensation for time lost. “This has made Cooch a far stronger camp, boasting a tight-knit dedicated team,” he says. “But, still, I hope we never have to deal with Norwalk again.”  

Jack Kohane is a freelance writer in Toronto, Ont.