River Rough, River Smooth. Anthony Dalton
first-hand the beauty of the river’s setting, the dangers of the rapids, and the extreme physical effort required on the portages.
From Lower Fort Garry I took a side trip to the open-air maritime museum at Selkirk. Among the preserved lake and river steamers and the restored Winnipeg yawls, was another York boat. Built in 1967 by the members of HMCS Chippawa26 in Winnipeg as a Centennial project, the boat, although smaller, is almost identical in construction to Ken McKay’s boat.
A voice calls for water, bringing my mind to the present. A tin mug is passed from one to another, filled with cool, refreshing river water to soothe a parched throat. I’m immediately thirsty — the power of suggestion — and reach for my own mug while trying to maintain rhythm with one hand.
I met Ken McKay and Charlie in Winnipeg. They had driven down from Norway House for supplies and to meet me. They had doubts as to whether an outsider could keep up, or would fit in. I had my own concerns, yet had no wish to be rejected. It was interview time. Would I pass muster? Over coffee in a hotel restaurant, we discussed the forthcoming adventure.
“I have a difficult name so you can call me Charlie Long Name for short,” Charlie Muchikekwanape introduced himself with a smile and a flair that was to prove typical of his sense of humour and intelligence. In his mid-thirties, tall and solidly built, he sported a long, glistening, black ponytail tied back with a beaded thong. Ken, by contrast, was obviously closer to my age — though a few years younger. He was heavily built, with short, black, wavy hair. For an hour we discussed my background, the river, the York boat, and the book I planned to write. I had the impression that my many wilderness experiences in the Arctic, Africa, the Middle East, and elsewhere27 failed to move them. Their interest in me was solely based on how I would fare in their wilderness. They studied me as acutely as I studied them. They wondered about me. I wondered about them. We would be living and working close together for the next few weeks.
A traditional York boat at Lower Fort Garry near Winnipeg. Now weathered and grey, the boat is a perfect example of the Yorks that carried freight up and down the Hayes River.
York boats were Spartan — but spacious — and could carry considerably larger loads than even the biggest freight canoes.
A couple of days after meeting Ken and Charlie, I took an early-morning flight north over Lake Winnipeg to Norway House. Thick, threatening storm clouds were gathering along the southern edge of the lake, suggesting Winnipeg might be in for heavy rains. Thinking of the exposure in an open York boat, I hoped they would continue soaking the south and leave the north alone for a while longer.
We circled and climbed above the weather: the Perimeter Airlines pilot taking the prop-jet on the most comfortable route to our destination. Behind us, Winnipeg was lost to sight. Below us, Lake Winnipeg28 — at 24,387 square kilometres (9,416 square miles) in area and one of the largest lakes in the world — looked like an ocean. Ahead, the forested lands of lakes and rivers on the Canadian Shield, where settlements are few and far between, reached to and beyond the horizon. Within an hour we skimmed low over Little Playgreen Lake, dropped below treetop height and settled gently on the runway at Norway House. The adventure was about to begin.
CHAPTER 2 The Historic Hayes
The Hayes River is the largest naturally flowing river in Manitoba, and drains the third largest watershed in the province. It begins its course near the head of Lake Winnipeg, flows north for 550 [sic. This is a typographical error. The river is closer to 650] kilometres through the vast wilderness of the Precambrian Shield and the Hudson Bay Lowlands, and empties into Hudson Bay. This seldom travelled river is characterized by remote stretches of white water, large lake systems, deep valleys and gorges and the unspoiled wilderness of the northern boreal forest.1
SO READS THE OPENING PARAGRAPH of a background study by the Canadian Heritage River System (CHRS) produced in 1987. Perhaps fortunately (and no doubt due to its remote location), the Hayes River is still rarely travelled in the early years of the twenty-first century. Certainly it is nowhere near as busy as it was in the heady decades of the fur-trade era, 150 to 250 years ago. Manitoba Parks Branch recognized the importance of the Hayes River in 1983 when it designated it as a provincial recreation waterway.2 Parks Canada had acknowledged the river’s historic importance eleven years earlier.3
Map of Canada.
The Hayes River was named by French explorer and fur-trade entrepreneur Pierre Radisson4 after Sir James Hayes,5 a charter member of the Hudson’s Bay Company and, at one time, the largest shareholder. He was also, in effect, the founding father of the Company. Sir James was the personal secretary to Prince Rupert, who had been instrumental in forming the Company of Adventurers, which became the Hudson’s Bay Company. Hayes drafted the sailing instructions for the original Nonsuch voyage to Hudson Bay. He went on to become a deputy governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company.
The Hayes has coursed through the Manitoban wilderness since the many glaciation periods of the extensive Pleistocene era.6 Extending from the Precambrian Shield to the Hudson Bay Lowlands, the river’s level is at its peak in May and June due to ice and snow melt in the spring.
Along its length, the Hayes is home to an impressive collection of wildlife, although, due to the densely forested nature of the river’s banks along much of its upper reaches, many species are rarely seen by river travellers. Among the large land mammals reported in the region are moose (Alces alces), woodland caribou (Rangifer tarandus caribou), barren ground caribou (Rangifer tarandus groenlandicus), polar bear (Ursus maritimus), black bear (Ursus americanus), timber wolf (Canis lupus), wolverine (Gulo gulo), and lynx (Lynx canadensis). Smaller crea–tures are headed by the all-important beaver (Castor canadensis), Arctic fox (Alopex lagopus), red fox (Vulpes vulpes), hare (Lepus americanus), muskrat (Ondonata zibethicus), marten (Martes americana), fisher (Martes pennanti), white-footed deer mouse (Peromyscus maniculatus), mink (Mustela vison), and otter (Lutra canadensis).7
Perhaps due to the river’s isolation, far removed from proximity to permanent human habitation (with the exception of Oxford House), three raptors are occasionally seen: bald eagle (Haliaeetus leusocephalus), the extremely rare golden eagle (Aquila chrysaetos), and osprey (Panilion haliaeetus canadensis).8 Numerous waterfowl frequent various parts of the river, including tens of thousands of snow geese9(Anser caerulescens), which use the Hudson Bay coastline between York Factory and the Manitoba-Ontario border as a breeding ground, and as a staging area during migrations.
Far beyond the last of the rapids, in sight of Hudson Bay, estimates suggest as many as two thousand beluga10(Delphinapteras leucas) feed in the Hayes River estuary and the nearby Nelson River estuary during the ice-free season. In addition, harbour seals (Phoca vitulina) are common in the final few kilometres of the river before it flows into Hudson Bay. Two other species, ringed seal (Phoca hispida) and bearded seal (Eragnathus barbatus) are to be found in the estuary.
The Hayes River Route.
According to the CHRS report, the source of the Hayes River is at the confluence of the Echimamish and Molson rivers.11 Royal Navy Midshipman Robert Hood,12 a member of Lieutenant (later, Sir) John Franklin’s131819–1921 overland expedition to the Arctic coast, referred to Painted Stone Portage as one of the Hayes’s sources. Franklin agreed. He made comment