Sea Kayaking

One of our three chosen Great Walks that we had wanted to do, the Abel Tasman Coast Track, in Abel Tasman National Park, was fully booked. It was an 'easy' track, level, sandy and involving many beaches. We were disappointed when we couldn't get on it. Like the Milford Track, it probably needs to be booked a year in advance. We've wanted to try sea kayaking for a while now and there are nine companies offering various trips and tours through the park. Realizing that these commercial operations would have already pre-booked their campsites, we would therefore still be able to visit the park if we signed up for one of their tours. So, we did. We were able to get on a three day tour with the Sea Kayak Company (http://www.seakayaknz.co.nz/), out of Motueka, during the first week of January. It was a small group, two Germans, a US family of three and our guide, Ethan. Just four kayaks in all.

Although the trip wasn't without weather challenges, it was a great choice of company. All food (delicious and lots of it), transport and equipment was provided. First day, we left from Marahou beach, via water taxi, to the northernmost part of our itinerary from where we would paddle back to Marahou over the three days. Our kayaks had already been taken to the start point earlier in the day and we just had to carry all our personal gear and the group's food aboard the taxi. The day was overcast and threatened rain. There was a slight wind in our favour which was good for the first time out. It took a while to get into our stride in the kayak, it's very different from canoeing and seemed very unnatural at first. Due to our past canoe and sail experience, though, we felt comfortable out on the water with the slight swell and waves. We arrived at the first campsite and snagged a prime site for our tent.

There was a nice beach, a forest pool and interesting sea caves to explore here at Onetahuti Bay.

Ethan, our guide, did the cooking and for the first night's "pudding" (dessert), presented us with this great Pavlova, a unique NZ dessert consisting of meringue topped with fresh cream, berries and usually kiwi fruit. This version maybe wouldn't win a beauty contest, having been slightly squashed in the kayak, but, it tasted absolutely delicious and we all enjoyed it very much.

We were entertained in camp by a group of Pukeko. Check out the big feet with extra long toes, which, because they need to be lifted so high for each step, makes them look like they are walking with galoshes on.

We also had a bunch of cheeky wekas to enjoy. These are flightless birds, but, are known to have a mischievous nature and will walk off with campers' possessions if you're not careful.

It started raining overnight and it absolutely poured rain for all of Day Two. The rain dampened the sea, so, the kayaking was fairly easy, but, we were all miserable by early afternoon and couldn't wait to stop for the day. We visited some beautiful spots along the way, tiny tidal estuaries that you could only reach via kayak and it would have been magical on a good weather day. Unfortunately, we didn't  want to linger and in the end, just made a beeline for our next stopping point, Anchorage Bay.

The rain stopped about five p.m., we made a good campfire and once dry, our spirits lifted and we enjoyed a good dinner of vegetable curry. Dessert tonight was a huge chocolate brownie each, smothered in chocolate sauce, whipped cream and strawberries!

Day Three was to be a long paddle back to Marahou. As soon as we turned the first corner we knew we could be in trouble. The wind was 'on the nose' (as it always seems to be when we're sailing also) and the sea was starting to whip up. It was hard going, but, we made it to the last headland where, once we turned, we knew we were done for. The wind was coming at us, steadily, around 25-30 knots. That's no wind for a kayak. We couldn't make progress against it and it started blowing us out to sea and we had to retreat. We rode downwind for a while and decided to try once more. Still no progress was possible. Our instructor radioed in for a water taxi pickup, none was available until four p.m. So, we rode back downwind and tucked into a beautiful, sheltered bay where we put up a tarp, enjoyed a huge picnic lunch and laid on the beach, in the hot sun, until it was time to head back to Anchorage Bay, where we'd left from that morning. The last half-mile into the beach was a struggle, but, the taxi trip back to Marahou was uneventful. We learned later that another group had experienced a capsize and that all the kayakers that were out had needed to get off the water.

So, canoeing, or, kayaking? We like river/estuary travel by canoe and kayak, the next bend is always unknown and intriguing, but, found that kayaking on a large, open sea is a little boring and potentially not much fun when the wind and sea kick up. All in all, a good learning experience and now we know what sea kayaking is like.

Once back to our car, we spotted these horseback riders on one of the many beautiful beaches in the area.

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Fort Selkirk

During our recent fourteen day canoe trip on the Yukon River, from Whitehorse to Dawson City, Fort Selkirk was about the halfway point and a logical place to stop for a rest day.

It was a worthwhile stop as it took us almost half a day alone to explore the history of this ghost town. A Hudson Bay Trading Post was first established here in 1848. In 1852 it was looted and destroyed by the Tlingits and wasn't rebuilt until about forty years later. From then until the mid-1950's it was a thriving community. Many of the buildings have been restored and the Fort Selkirk Historic Site is owned and managed jointly by the Selkirk First Nation and the Yukon Government's Department of Tourism and Culture. There is no road access. It is in a stunning location, at the confluence of the Pelly and Yukon Rivers. A formidable basalt wall is across from the settlement, which sits high above the river.

Fort Selkirk was also important during the Gold Rush Years, primarily due to the creation of the Yukon Field Force which were in formation between 1898-1900. Canada was a young country at the time, only thirty-one years old in 1898. It was interesting to note that one quarter of the country's entire military, 203 men, was sent to Fort Selkirk in 1898 as the Yukon Field Force. There is a graveyard and memorial to them in the woods behind their parade ground.

There are a lot residential cabins, stores, two churches and other buildings that have been restored to varying levels, some with personal effects of past residents. All are open and most fascinating to tour through.

This building was the NWMP (police) post.

The general store, Taylor and Drury, with the Anglican Church in the background.

There were two churches in town, one Anglican, the other, Catholic. This is the Catholic one.

This building is a food cache which protected food supplies from animals and fire.

Fort Selkirk is also a traditional home for the Selkirk First Nation and they have a colourful, well-tended burial ground in the woods behind the Catholic Church.

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Yukon River Quest

Some of you may have heard of the Yukon Quest, the annual 1,000 mile dogsled race held annually between Whitehorse, Yukon and Fairbanks, Alaska. Did you know there is also a Yukon River Quest, 'the Race to the Midnight Sun', an annual paddling marathon on the Yukon River between Whitehorse and Dawson City, Yukon? At 715 km., it's the longest annual canoe race in the world. Although it's been run for the last eighteen years, we hadn't heard of it either. The race is open to solo and tandem canoes and kayaks, and voyageur canoes. This year's event, 2016, also had Stand Up Paddle (SUP) boards as an experimental class. By coincidence, the race was leaving Whitehorse on June 29, one day after we were leaving on our own transit of the same course. They were going to be racing 24/7 and we were doing a leisurely cruise, so, we expected them to breeze right past us on Lake Laberge which they did. We camped early and had a perfect vantage point to watch as they all came through. It was quite the sight!

The 1st place finisher (tandem kayak) finished in forty-four hours and 51 minutes. Wow! We took fourteen days on the same course. The participants were forced to do a seven hour layover in Carmacks and three hours at Coffee Creek, but, other than that, they were expected to paddle 24/7, unimaginable. 2nd place was a tandem canoe, 3rd another tandem kayak and 4th went to a voyageur canoe. Many people had doubts about the paddleboarders, but, nine of the eleven finished and will probably be in as a class for future years. One of the boards dumped in Five Finger Rapids, but, was able to recover and carry on. The racers may have enjoyed the challenge of the race, but, we also enjoyed being able to travel at our own pace, very slowly and savour the details along the way.

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Yukon River Canoe Trip

Before we were sailors, we were canoeists. As we are currently without a sailboat and missing travel by water we decided to get back to basics this summer and return to the canoe. Since reading Pierre Berton's book Drifting Home and exploring the Klondike on previous visits, the Yukon River has always been 'on the list' in the back of our minds. Now, we had the time and we were already in the place, so we decided to just do it. 'It' being a fourteen day, 706 km (439 mile) paddle down the Yukon River, starting in Whitehorse and ending in Dawson City. This is actually just a small section of the River which flows from its headwaters near Atlin BC all the way to the Bering Sea, 3,190 kilometres (1,980 miles) distant. The Whitehorse to Dawson City leg was the main route to the Klondike for the Gold Rush participants of 1898.

We've done a fair amount of wilderness canoeing in Ontario, but, that was a long time ago and frankly, the idea of wielding an 85 lb. canoe on our heads, along with all our gear, across forest portages just wasn't that appealing any more. That is the beauty of the Yukon River. There are NO portages, none! Even better, you don't really even have to paddle! The downstream current averages between 5-7 miles per hour and unless there are headwinds, it basically just requires steering and avoiding obstacles.

After the mad rush of provisioning and packing, it was exhilarating to push off into the current at Whitehorse. We couldn't believe how fast we were going and watched the shoreline speed by. Within twenty minutes, we spotted a pair of deer on the shore, all was looking good and we spent a comfortable first night at the entrance to Lake Laberge.

Lake Laberge was the first of just three 'obstacles' on the trip that we had misgivings about. The lake is thirty miles long, subject to headwinds and there would be little current to assist us through it. It was a hot, two-day slog of a paddle through and although very beautiful, we were glad to see the end of it. There weren't that many good places to camp, but, we managed to find a great spot both nights which afforded us long views up and down the length of the lake.

After leaving Lake Laberge, we entered into the section of the river known as the 'Thirty Mile'. This section is designated a national heritage river and part of the Klondike Gold Rush International Historical Park. It was narrow, sparkling clear, rocky and very lively with lots of riffles that caused us to ship water on occasion. We had to keep our wits about us to be sure we were in the right place at the right time. Our moving water skills were rusty and it wasn't a very relaxing ride. We were wondering if we had bitten off more than we could chew. Once we reached the end of this section and joined up with the Teslin River, it all changed. There were still many boils and eddies in the river, but,  it was wider, the water stayed flat and we didn't have to be quite so vigilant. We started to enjoy the scenery, like this patch of fireweed in one of the many burn areas we encountered.

Once we'd remastered our moving water pivot turns, we found that even with the fierce current we could ferry glide over to either bank for a quick tea break.

On the shore, we encountered details like these beautiful flowers found among the stones on a muddy beach.

The second obstacle that gave us pause was Five Finger Rapids. Historically, they were a major navigation obstacle and many people and ships have come to grief there. We checked the Rapids out by road beforehand and they didn't look too bad as long as you lined up properly, took the rightmost channel (on the far left in the picture below) which only had standing waves down the middle of it, braced well and didn't stop paddling. We shipped quite a lot of water going through, but, it was all over in a minute and although very wet, we were through and relieved it was done.

A few miles further downstream we encountered our third and final obstacle, the Rink Rapids, but, these were easily bypassed as long as you kept to the extreme right of the river. From here on there wasn't much else to worry about and the days passed easily one-by-one and they all seemed to blend together. The days were mostly warm and sunny, the first few hours each day were magical when it was cool, fresh and quiet and we glided along soundlessly. We saw fewer and fewer people as we went along. After Fort Selkirk, the half-way point, which I'll write more about later, we didn't see another soul for about five days, until one evening when the whump-whump-whump of a helicopter loudly announced itself. It landed on an impossibly tiny strip of marshy shore directly opposite our camp and dropped off three men and a bunch of equipment. They were picked up a few hours later and we were alone again.

The silence was again blissful. Although travelling the river today is very much a wilderness experience it wasn't like that during the years surrounding the Gold Rush. The whole length of it must have been a hive of industry. There were telegraph lines running along the shore (all the way from Vancouver to Dawson City). Along with the lines came telegraph stations, police posts, even post offices. There were stage crossings and roadhouses at regular intervals. Every bend in the river contained huge woodpiles. Men cut and stacked cordwood all winter to fuel the paddle steamers. It must have been noisy, with machinery running and steam whistles blasting at every 'meet' point in the river. Hard to imagine today, but, just step a few metres back from the shoreline into the trees and the evidence is all still there.

Steam sternwheelers operated regularly on the River up until the 1950's. The SS Klondike, on the hard now at Whitehorse was one. Hard to believe this huge ship: 64m (210 ft.) with a beam of 12.5m (41 ft.) and a draft of 0,6m empty (24 in.) - 1m loaded (39 in.) draft negotiated this river full of ever-changing sandbars and depths.  Not surprisingly, ships went aground regularly and they often had to employ winches and cables attached to shore to get them through the sticky bits.

I couldn't finish this post without mentioning the wildlife encountered, specifically moose. We saw lots, probably at least a dozen and each time it was a thrill. Often it was early morning, sometimes they were single and sometimes in pairs. We were transfixed by one that swam directly across the river, just ten metres from the bow of our canoe. 

It was a wonderful trip and we enjoyed it very much!

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