We have made it to the pretty town of Fort Simpson in good time with two days paddling and one days rest. We left Jean Marie River on the wednesday in absolutely awful weather: the rain was driving in our faces and we had a strong head wind that almost cancelled out the five knots of current flowing beneath us. Ordinarily I doubt we would have set off in such conditions but we had heard that there was a festival on in Fort Simpson this weekend and wanted to make it there for that. We had also fixed up to meet up with the Gronewegen family for the event and spend the weekend with them. So, given these reasons, we duly set off with the weather against us.
Mum and I took a last minute trip to the band office to use the flushing toilets (still a novelty) and were kindly given cups of coffee and the weather report for the week whilst Dad and Maya packed up the tent in the cold and the rain (another thing this trip is teaching me is how to be selfish). We said goodbye to the people at the band office who had been so hospitible and kind - Donna Sake, Tammy Neal and Erma Norwegain - and trudged out into the grey mist again.
That day was possibly one of the hardest of my life. For some reason Dad and Maya didn't feel as affected but Mum and myself felt the full force of the weather. I was cold, so cold, all the hours we were on the water even though I had plenty of layers on. The rain was so consistent that our waterproofs began to leak and I discovered that actually there is no such thing as a completely waterproof waterproof. Where my clothes were sodden on my fore arms and my knees the wind felt like ice. Visibility was poor, mile upon mile of steep green blank melting darkly into the mist, and it felt like we weren't getting anywhere at all. After about five miles we rafted up for a rest. The wind and the current played with us, tossing us this way and that, pulling us round and then pushing us back. There are virtually no stopping places or good camping places on this stretch of water and we were heading for a place called Rabbit Skin River where there are some cabins and flat ground. Looking at the map I realised it was 15 miles from Jean Marie. We had ten miles to go. I looked at the isolating mist, felt the sharp sting of rain on my face, tried to stir my leaden limbs and couldn't imagine how we could possibly get there. I'm not ashamed to say I burst into tears and didn't stop for a while . I paddled on hunched over and battling with the wind/current combination until I just couldn't feel anything anymore. I had to use my whole body, bracing my legs, tensing every muscle in my arms and stomach to lever the paddle, just to have the slightest effect on where the boat went and slowly my arms and my stomach muscles turned to jelly. Eventually we reached an almost trance-like state where you could feel the paddle dipping in and out and you knew it was cold, hard work but you forgot how it felt and why you where doing it. I have no idea how long we were on the water because I didn't check our leaving or arrival times but it must have been hours, my guess is around five or six hours of virtually non-stop paddling. I remember Dad forced a Mars Bar down my throat and things got easier after that. I day-dreamed, as I paddled, about getting home and seeing my friends and my boyfriend and eating all the foods I'm missing (I have this crazy craving for Cathedral City Mature Chedder - a whole block to myself). About two and a half miles before Rabbit Skin River we stopped for a toilet break having spotted the only get-out point for around 8 miles. The mosquitos were the last straw for Mum, unfortunately, as they dive-bombed her relentlessly. We bundled her, shivering uncontrollably from the cold, back into the boat and paddled those last few miles. I really felt for her becasuse she'd obviously reached some kind of wall she couldn't break through but it made even more work for me in the back of the boat because she just didn't have any strength to help give the boat any momentum.
Eventually we landed at Rabbit Skin River and the relief we all shared was palpable. It was also short lived. We had set our hearts (stupidly) on there being someone in the cabins to be a friendly face and a warm welcome but they were empty and the drizzle continued as the mosquitos swarmed around us. We had to carry all our kit up a hill to the flat campground slipping and sliding in the mud. Having paddled so hard for so long I just don't know how we found the strength but we did. Maya and I set up the emergency tent and put Mum in it. I brewed her up a quick cup of sweet tea while Dad and Maya put the Tipi up. Then Maya and I hauled the personal kit up the hill and started setting up the inside of the tent. We changed into dry clothes and piled on the layers and slowly began to get warm. When Dad brought up the food barrels we set about making dinner - a feast of instant mash and corned beef. I looked at my watch and realised it was midnight. We hadn't eaten anything but trailmix and a mars bar in twelve hours. How we had done all we'd done that day I don't know because it's not as if we ( excepting Dad) are used to the hard, physical work but we did. As a treat Dad gave us a whole chocolate bar each to munch on in bed and, cosy and tired, we drifted off to sleep. I think that warm, safe moment in our Tipi as the rain pounded outside is one of the really good memories I will take home. The feeling of having gritted my teeth and got on with it and it all being over. As Dad put it: "The good thing about storms is that they always end".
The next day we stayed where we were. The weather had cleared slightly but it was still cold with showers and we hung a line out in the sunny spells to dry all our stuff. Dad discovered that there was a hole in the dry bag for the medical kit so all the bandages and things were soaking and had to be dried. I had a wonderful day. I slept in til half eleven and read (and finished) a book only getting up at half four. Then we spent hours making as much Bannock as we could eat and slathering it in cherry jam, chocolate spread and margerine. We washed up and I went to bed at half nine while Mum and Maya played cards. It was a lovely day.
Yesterday, Friday, we slept in. For some reason no-one heard their alarms and instead of getting up at seven we got up at quarter to nine. We didn't get on the water until about 2pm, I can't even remember why. It was a much easier day's paddling because the current was about four and a half knots and even though there was a head wind we didn't have to paddle hard to go at a good speed. At around four we stopped for a quick dinner of tuna, couscous and instant soup because breakfast ahd been a long time before that. A quick nap in the sun and we paddled on to Fort Simpson. It was slower going than before as the river widedened but we got to our destination at about 8pm. Very good time considering we had paddled for twenty miles or so and had an almost two hour stop. Crossing the mouth of the Laird River, just before Fort Simpson, as it hit the Mackenzie was...interesting. Entire trees floated past; roots, branches and everything else. The water was cloudy and according to the map we were floating over a sand bar but we couldn't see any evidence of it.
We landed at the float plane dock and were met by Jordan and Kathleen Groenewegen (remember? from Hay River?) and their children and Bear, the huskie dog. We went to the campsite to set up the tents and ordered a Chinese Take-away (another of my cravings). The luxury of having too much food and something that tasted so much more interesting than "Smash" was amazing. Even though the bugs were horrific we were very contented as we stuffed our faces. We lit a fire and sat around it talking and eating chocolate and crisps(!!!) and drinking cups of tea. Another lovely night.
This morning we decided it was too bug-ridden in the campsite so we splashed out and found an apartment to share between our two families. Oh the excitment when we realised we would have beds and chairs and a toilet that flushed! I must say I had a wonderful hot shower this morning at the campsite which was a good start to a day that has just got better and better. When we moved into the apartment we had hot dogs for lunch. Then we walked to the festival site and heard the music and walked around the traditional stalls. We met up with someone we'd met in Jean River, Lucy Simon, who does moose hair turfting and other traditional crafts. From her, Mum and Maya and I bought moccasins. Kathleen taught us a good trick. If you smell them and they are smokey then the hide has been traditionally prepared and is not comercially produced. The bead work on the front of them is beautiful and colourful and the hide itself is soft and SO comfortable. I'm wearing them right now and they feel silky when I wiggle my toes around. I love them.
We went to the supermarket to stock up and bought ice-cream and cookies and fresh vegetables and apple juice. We had barbequed steak for dinner with salad and asparagus and potato. I am now sitting on a very comfy sofa recounting our latest adventures to you as everyone else talks animatedly. I can smell coffee and mum has just put some chocolate in front of me. Now seems like a good time to finish this entry as I'm quite looking forward to that bed that is waiting for me with pillows and cool sheets and a soft duvet. Again the speed of the internet prevented me uploading photos to accompany our story so I'm sorry if this entry seems a little bit dry. Next entry might not be for a couple of weeks as the next stop is Wrigley, about ten days paddle away at our pace. Until then I send you all lots of love and thankyou all so much for the messages we get on the sat phone. It's nice to be in touch because we do think about you all out here. Just a note, if you have used the Iridium website to send a message we can't reply to you. The sat phone won't let us. We can reply to emails though. Just to clear that up.
see you soon,
Hannah
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