| STAGE SEVEN - TIDEWATER TO KANGIRSUK, SALLUIT, AND BACK TO DUBLIN |
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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?
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.
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.
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.
reached the end of the river the tide was rising and falling 35 feet. 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.
Adventures. These were the first people we 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.
waited for the tides to turn. 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.
shows off the jaw bones of some big 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.
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.
and Hudson Strait.
Most houses in the Inuit villages are similar. Built for
function and not looks, these sturdy homes are
heavily insulated.
function and not looks, these 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.
While we couldn'y pronounce 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.
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.