| STAGE SEVEN - TIDEWATER TO KANGIRSUK, SALLUIT, AND BACK TO DUBLIN |
What we had experienced was a small version of a tidal bore. A tidal bore is a relatively rare phenomenon. A bore is when the leading edge of an incoming
tide is seen as a distinct line, or in some cases a wave of us to six feet high. Tidal bores can move at speeds of up to twenty miles an hour, so we were
lucky to experience this smaller manifestation of the phenomenon. The huge tides seen here at the mouth of the Payne River are typical throughout
Ungava Bay.
The water rose over fifteen feet in two hours and forced us to drag the loaded canoe up the rocks every few minutes. While waiting I walked towards the
base of the cliff where the falcon was nested, but once the bird’s comfort zone was breached it took flight and menacingly began to swoop towards me. This
sent me back to water level in a hurry. While waiting, a seal also popped up a few feet from shore. The large animal was so curious that it played around
for half an hour and repeatedly dove out of the water.
The tide turned around 1:00pm and we wasted no time. The current rushed out so hard that we quickly covered fifteen miles despite a strong headwind.
Without the tide paddling into this headwind would have been impossible. After some time we reached a large rock island out in the center of the river and
saw some boats being piloted by people in bright red coats. We pulled up to one of the boats and found that the guides were from a camp called Arctic
Adventure and that they had their clients out fishing for Arctic Char. The big freighter canoes were anchored in the strong current and we grabbed onto
one boat and talked to a guide named Willie. I got some good information from Willie and managed to sell the canoe to him for two hundred dollars. He was
very thrilled to get the boat so cheaply and told us that he was going to use it as a sled for seal hunting in the winter. The cheap sale of the canoe also
secured us a place to stay in town for the night. Willie Thomassie was very happy about the canoe.
Willie was adamant that we stay to the right to avoid heavy waves for the next few miles. I guess he would know best, but we didn’t want to get stuck on the
south shore and not be able to cross to the side of the river that Kangirsuk is on. Anyways, we parted ways and stuck to the right for as long as we felt
comfortable. The river made a jog here and after a while we crossed back to the north side. The waves were bigger here, but there was a certain sense of
safety associated with being on the side we intended to camp on. The upstream wind intensified and since it was moving against the outgoing tide the
effect produced even bigger standing waves. Our progress continued to slow, but we were able to make get along until it was just about low tide around
6:00pm. The north shore of Payne Sound was composed of steep mountains flanked by cliffs, but we were able to find a flat spot among them. This little
safe spot gave us a nice place from which to wait until the tide turned again around midnight.
tide is seen as a distinct line, or in some cases a wave of us to six feet high. Tidal bores can move at speeds of up to twenty miles an hour, so we were
lucky to experience this smaller manifestation of the phenomenon. The huge tides seen here at the mouth of the Payne River are typical throughout
Ungava Bay.
The water rose over fifteen feet in two hours and forced us to drag the loaded canoe up the rocks every few minutes. While waiting I walked towards the
base of the cliff where the falcon was nested, but once the bird’s comfort zone was breached it took flight and menacingly began to swoop towards me. This
sent me back to water level in a hurry. While waiting, a seal also popped up a few feet from shore. The large animal was so curious that it played around
for half an hour and repeatedly dove out of the water.
The tide turned around 1:00pm and we wasted no time. The current rushed out so hard that we quickly covered fifteen miles despite a strong headwind.
Without the tide paddling into this headwind would have been impossible. After some time we reached a large rock island out in the center of the river and
saw some boats being piloted by people in bright red coats. We pulled up to one of the boats and found that the guides were from a camp called Arctic
Adventure and that they had their clients out fishing for Arctic Char. The big freighter canoes were anchored in the strong current and we grabbed onto
one boat and talked to a guide named Willie. I got some good information from Willie and managed to sell the canoe to him for two hundred dollars. He was
very thrilled to get the boat so cheaply and told us that he was going to use it as a sled for seal hunting in the winter. The cheap sale of the canoe also
secured us a place to stay in town for the night. Willie Thomassie was very happy about the canoe.
Willie was adamant that we stay to the right to avoid heavy waves for the next few miles. I guess he would know best, but we didn’t want to get stuck on the
south shore and not be able to cross to the side of the river that Kangirsuk is on. Anyways, we parted ways and stuck to the right for as long as we felt
comfortable. The river made a jog here and after a while we crossed back to the north side. The waves were bigger here, but there was a certain sense of
safety associated with being on the side we intended to camp on. The upstream wind intensified and since it was moving against the outgoing tide the
effect produced even bigger standing waves. Our progress continued to slow, but we were able to make get along until it was just about low tide around
6:00pm. The north shore of Payne Sound was composed of steep mountains flanked by cliffs, but we were able to find a flat spot among them. This little
safe spot gave us a nice place from which to wait until the tide turned again around midnight.
To take advantage of the next outgoing tide we would have to paddle through the night, but it was no big deal as long as the wind died down. Doing this would
give us two more favorable tides to reach Kangirsuk in time for our flight. If we waited until tomorrow’s favorable tide and were stopped by wind our flight might
be missed. There was no need to spend almost a week in Kangirsuk waiting for the next flight out.
The last night of our trip turned out to be a true adventure. The wind died down and the paddling was excellent. We ate dinner and waited until 1:00 am for the
tide to crest. The ocean came up high enough for the stern of the canoe to float up and off of the rocks. It was cold and dark, but never completely black
outside. Had there been a moon or less cloud cover the visibility would have been quite satisfactory, but this was not the case tonight. We would be playing
with the world’s biggest tides in an eighteen foot canoe.
The tide was rushing out and our sense of speed was heightened by not being able to see any immediate surrounding for a point of reference. I also
experiences bioluminescence for the first time in the form of phosphorescent organisms. Each paddle stroke created hundreds of neon green sparkles in the
water. The sparkles combined with being overtired, and helped make this situation surreal. Occasionally we would hear flowing water and the canoe would bob
over sets of waves, probably caused by changes in the bottom of the river as the tide sped over it. At one point Eric just barely managed to spot a huge white
rock underwater as we cruised only inches above it. I could only imagine what we would do if we encountered a polar bear swimming around out here in the
middle of the night. The water was frigid cold having come directly from Ungava Bay, and any mistake would lead to submersion and most likely hypothermia.
give us two more favorable tides to reach Kangirsuk in time for our flight. If we waited until tomorrow’s favorable tide and were stopped by wind our flight might
be missed. There was no need to spend almost a week in Kangirsuk waiting for the next flight out.
The last night of our trip turned out to be a true adventure. The wind died down and the paddling was excellent. We ate dinner and waited until 1:00 am for the
tide to crest. The ocean came up high enough for the stern of the canoe to float up and off of the rocks. It was cold and dark, but never completely black
outside. Had there been a moon or less cloud cover the visibility would have been quite satisfactory, but this was not the case tonight. We would be playing
with the world’s biggest tides in an eighteen foot canoe.
The tide was rushing out and our sense of speed was heightened by not being able to see any immediate surrounding for a point of reference. I also
experiences bioluminescence for the first time in the form of phosphorescent organisms. Each paddle stroke created hundreds of neon green sparkles in the
water. The sparkles combined with being overtired, and helped make this situation surreal. Occasionally we would hear flowing water and the canoe would bob
over sets of waves, probably caused by changes in the bottom of the river as the tide sped over it. At one point Eric just barely managed to spot a huge white
rock underwater as we cruised only inches above it. I could only imagine what we would do if we encountered a polar bear swimming around out here in the
middle of the night. The water was frigid cold having come directly from Ungava Bay, and any mistake would lead to submersion and most likely hypothermia.
It was in this fashion that we passed through the dark hours. For much of the night the lights of Kangirsuk could be seen shimmering far on the horizon, tempting
and luring us along. By 2:30am the sky brightened and the sun rose at 3:45am. The morning was beautiful, but the sky was hazy and threatened rain. We had
made about fifteen miles by sunrise and were pleased with the progress. A steady breeze had come up, but the waves never grew. Shortly after sunrise we
passed a rocky headland and experienced some weird shifting currents that we actually had to fight until we were half way across another large bay called Payne
Sound. The effects of the water level changing by up to forty feet twice a day were fantastic, and paddling around out here in out small boat was a little intimidating.
By 4:00am Nemitz wanted to stop. I wanted to push on because the weather was so calm, but he was insistent. We managed to find a flat spot of land, portage the
gear above the high tide mark, and set up the tent just before it began to rain. Both of us were very overtired and getting snappy by the time we turned in for the
“night”.
Stopping to sleep proved brilliant. It allowed for a reasonable amount of rest and kept us dry. Also, by stopping before the lowest point of the tide cycle we
avoiding walking across the full extent of the flats exposed in order to reach a suitable camp site.
and luring us along. By 2:30am the sky brightened and the sun rose at 3:45am. The morning was beautiful, but the sky was hazy and threatened rain. We had
made about fifteen miles by sunrise and were pleased with the progress. A steady breeze had come up, but the waves never grew. Shortly after sunrise we
passed a rocky headland and experienced some weird shifting currents that we actually had to fight until we were half way across another large bay called Payne
Sound. The effects of the water level changing by up to forty feet twice a day were fantastic, and paddling around out here in out small boat was a little intimidating.
By 4:00am Nemitz wanted to stop. I wanted to push on because the weather was so calm, but he was insistent. We managed to find a flat spot of land, portage the
gear above the high tide mark, and set up the tent just before it began to rain. Both of us were very overtired and getting snappy by the time we turned in for the
“night”.
Stopping to sleep proved brilliant. It allowed for a reasonable amount of rest and kept us dry. Also, by stopping before the lowest point of the tide cycle we
avoiding walking across the full extent of the flats exposed in order to reach a suitable camp site.
The final miles to Kangirsuk were completed in a growing downpour, but for the most part this day was quite easy. On reaching Kangirsuk a solemn handshake
was given at the town dock and within a half hour our gear was inside the warm and friendly home of Willie and Suzie Thomassie. Our gracious host had our
clothes washed and saw to it that we took hot showers. Each of us even had the opportunity to sleep in our own bed that night.
Having the warm and dry house to spend the night in was a blessing. This allowed us to dry out our gear, and to discard refuse that would only be extra weight
on the flight home. I was nervous that we would be stuck in Kangirsuk by the weather for a few days, but our flight managed to take off with a delay of only a few
hours.
Before flying back to La Grande and my truck, the Air Inuit flight had to stop in Salluit. We debarked at this northern most town in Quebec to find that two planes
landed within a few minutes of each other so there was complete mayhem. Kids were hanging off the back of ATVs and jumping gravel banks on dirt bikes while
cars and trucks kept coming and going. People were shaking our hands and welcoming us to Salluit. Since the airport is a few kilomteres from the town people
come up for the event of the planes landing. School was not in session and there was little else to do in town.
In all of this uproar we found a girl about our age that heard we were looking for a place to stay. She talked to a few friends and set up a deal with us. At first she
thought we worked for a company, but when she found out that we were canoers she cheered up considerably. Maggie would take us. Well, that was good I
guess. Magie apologized for having to drop a friend off in town first, but she was back in ten minutes and helping us load our stuff into her car. She drove us to
her and her husband’s house and proceeded to make it ours. This was too good to be true. What are the odds of a stranger taking in two guys at an airport
packing lots of gear and a gun?
was given at the town dock and within a half hour our gear was inside the warm and friendly home of Willie and Suzie Thomassie. Our gracious host had our
clothes washed and saw to it that we took hot showers. Each of us even had the opportunity to sleep in our own bed that night.
Having the warm and dry house to spend the night in was a blessing. This allowed us to dry out our gear, and to discard refuse that would only be extra weight
on the flight home. I was nervous that we would be stuck in Kangirsuk by the weather for a few days, but our flight managed to take off with a delay of only a few
hours.
Before flying back to La Grande and my truck, the Air Inuit flight had to stop in Salluit. We debarked at this northern most town in Quebec to find that two planes
landed within a few minutes of each other so there was complete mayhem. Kids were hanging off the back of ATVs and jumping gravel banks on dirt bikes while
cars and trucks kept coming and going. People were shaking our hands and welcoming us to Salluit. Since the airport is a few kilomteres from the town people
come up for the event of the planes landing. School was not in session and there was little else to do in town.
In all of this uproar we found a girl about our age that heard we were looking for a place to stay. She talked to a few friends and set up a deal with us. At first she
thought we worked for a company, but when she found out that we were canoers she cheered up considerably. Maggie would take us. Well, that was good I
guess. Magie apologized for having to drop a friend off in town first, but she was back in ten minutes and helping us load our stuff into her car. She drove us to
her and her husband’s house and proceeded to make it ours. This was too good to be true. What are the odds of a stranger taking in two guys at an airport
packing lots of gear and a gun?
Our hosts were phenomenal and gave us free reign of the house. We explored Salluit and I found it to be the most productive and active community I have visited in
the north. The great weather allowed for one last hike up a barren hill overlooking Hudson Strait before getting on our flight later the next day.
By five o’clock our plane landed back in La Grande. Although it wasn’t necessarily smooth, my truck fired up and we began the long drive south. That night Eric and
I slept in the back of my truck deep in the forest around Val D’Or. The trees and humidity were quite foreign to us. In a few short hours we had been transferred to
literally a different world. I will always fondly remember my times in the north and I know that someday I will return to that starkly gorgeous land.
the north. The great weather allowed for one last hike up a barren hill overlooking Hudson Strait before getting on our flight later the next day.
By five o’clock our plane landed back in La Grande. Although it wasn’t necessarily smooth, my truck fired up and we began the long drive south. That night Eric and
I slept in the back of my truck deep in the forest around Val D’Or. The trees and humidity were quite foreign to us. In a few short hours we had been transferred to
literally a different world. I will always fondly remember my times in the north and I know that someday I will return to that starkly gorgeous land.
Eric watches as the tide rises twenty five feet in a few short hours. By the time we reached the end of the river the tide was rising and falling 35 feet.
Paddling against such a strong tide is completely impossible.
Paddling against such a strong tide is completely impossible.
Two good looking caribou are startled as I rise from behind a rock to snap a picture.
On the day before reaching Kangirsuk we came across Willie Thomassie guiding a fishing trip for Arctic Adventures. These were the first people we
had seen on the entire expedition.
had seen on the entire expedition.
Brad Bassi cooking a late night dinner while the team waited for the tides to turn.
Paddling on the outgoing tide in the dark after this meal was very exciting.
Paddling on the outgoing tide in the dark after this meal was very exciting.
Suzie Thomassie, our fantastic host in Kangirsuk, shows off the jaw bones of some big
Lake Trout she caught through the ice.
Lake Trout she caught through the ice.
Eric Nemitz standing outside of the Kangirsuk airport. Despite the low clouds our flight was able to take off after only a short delay.
During our layover in Salluit I took advantage of the perfect weather to hike a large hill overlooking the village and Hudson Strait.
Most houses in the Inuit villages are similar. Built for function and not looks, these
sturdy homes are heavily insulated.
sturdy homes are heavily insulated.
Inuktitut is the primary language in all Inuit villages. While we couldn'y pronounce
the street names, we were able to recognize the stop sign.
the street names, we were able to recognize the stop sign.
Driving south at the end of the trip. Experiencing true darkness, heat, and humidity for the first time all summer was a bit of a shock. On
the second day of our drive home the temperature outside of Montreal was almost 100 degrees.
the second day of our drive home the temperature outside of Montreal was almost 100 degrees.
The final two days of our trip lay ahead and the excitement to complete the expedition was palpable. After having some of our plentiful lunch food for breakfast one
mile of class II rapids was run. The river was even wider here and a maze of channels on river left demanded that we pay attention to things. In this stretch we saw
a big herd of caribou numbering between fifty and one hundred, swim the river directly in front of us. After watching the herd pass, the rest of the rapids were run
through more confusing channels to tidewater. The smell of salt was in the air and the water tasted brackish. A distinct line of green algae and high water marks
on the rocks was a clear indication that this part of the Payne River was influenced by the tide.
About eight miles were made with a helping current. All this time Eric and I debated about the tides. Then it happened. I saw a line of stuff floating on the water
coming at us from downstream and said “Hey Eric, what’s that?” Then it hit us. The line demarcated the front edge of the incoming tide and this current was so
strong that it was impossible to paddle against it no matter how hard we tried. The water rushing in was obviously from the ocean as it was frigid cold and smelled
of salt. The only option was to head to shore and wait for the tide to turn.
mile of class II rapids was run. The river was even wider here and a maze of channels on river left demanded that we pay attention to things. In this stretch we saw
a big herd of caribou numbering between fifty and one hundred, swim the river directly in front of us. After watching the herd pass, the rest of the rapids were run
through more confusing channels to tidewater. The smell of salt was in the air and the water tasted brackish. A distinct line of green algae and high water marks
on the rocks was a clear indication that this part of the Payne River was influenced by the tide.
About eight miles were made with a helping current. All this time Eric and I debated about the tides. Then it happened. I saw a line of stuff floating on the water
coming at us from downstream and said “Hey Eric, what’s that?” Then it hit us. The line demarcated the front edge of the incoming tide and this current was so
strong that it was impossible to paddle against it no matter how hard we tried. The water rushing in was obviously from the ocean as it was frigid cold and smelled
of salt. The only option was to head to shore and wait for the tide to turn.
