Friend or Foe
GETTING TO KNOW JAMES BAy, THE SCHOOlyARD BUlly
My fear of this bay is leaving me. I’m standing in The channel is a slog but it lets us avoid the long
my shorts, waist-deep in the Arctic Ocean. Silt- peninsula-like tidal flat that juts out to the north
laden, caramel water stretches out endlessly in all from the mouth. Once through the channel, we
directions except south, where the lowlands ap- stay well offshore in order to paddle without strik-
pear as a sliver on the horizon. The late August sun ing bottom with every stroke.
is high and hot, backed by a bluebird sky. Our ca- The end of the day nears and our GPS has us
noe bobs beside me as I fix the camera to the bow homing in on Little Netishi Point. It’s around this
in order to get some tandem paddling shots of my time that we pause for Alex’s pit stop and for me
partner Alex and me. He is relieving himself, whis- to feel complacent. We are on schedule to make it
tling happily as he takes in the vastness of it all. in plenty of time but, inexplicably, we paddle past
Unrelated to Alex’s urinary tract, the water of and keep going. The next point is just five kilome-
James Bay is surprisingly warm and sweet. Dozens tres further, the water is calm, and we can make it
of giant rivers in Ontario and Quebec pour count- easily—or so we think.
less tonnes of freshwater into it every day, raising A couple of clicks beyond Little Netishi our pad-
the temperature and diluting it to the point that dles begin to repeatedly bump the ground. The tide
its salinity is undetectable. At this moment, lin- is ebbing. We try to head to shore, but to no avail.
gering in its embrace, James Bay seems more lake When the tide goes out on James Bay, it goes like
than ocean—and is far friendlier than I could ever a drag racer. Within minutes we can no longer see
have imagined. water. We are stranded. Our magic carpet has been
It’s our first day paddling the 70-kilometre pulled out from underneath us to reveal a damp
stretch from the mouth of the Harricana River to clay floor that is now our home for the night.
Moosonee, Ontario. We began our journey 23 days Suddenly confronted by another aspect of this
and 1,000 kilometres ago on Algonquin Park’s Ope- bully, he again seems to be a pretty decent guy. The
ongo Lake but everything leading up to James Bay tidal flats are firm and level—exactly what you look
was merely a preamble. I’ve read accounts of wick- for in a good campsite. We deal with the excessively
ed storms, brutal mosquitoes and being trapped damp surface by lining the bottom of our tent with
out on the tidal flats. Camping is supposed to be a tarp. The unencumbered breeze keeps the noto-
marginal at best as the surrounding landscape rious James Bay mosquitoes under control as well.
is made up primarily of wetlands; great for birds They’re still present in impressive numbers, but are
and bugs but not so great for canoe trippers. Most limited to tucking behind us in the wind-eddy cre-
groups that paddle the Harricana arrange a plane ated by our bodies. We merely have to step aside
or motorboat shuttle back to Moosonee in order and they are blown into oblivion.
Our magic carpet has been pulled out from underneath us
to reveal a damp clay floor that is now our home for the night
to avoid the crossing. To me, James Bay was like An additional bonus is that, since Nunavut lays
the schoolyard bully with a bad reputation who no claim to all of James Bay and its intertidal zone,
one talked to but everyone feared. we can add a territory to the two provinces we’ve
Tidal flats on James Bay sometimes extend 10 already camped in during our journey.
kilometres from land. This makes it easy to hop Before tucking in for the night, we consult our
out in the shallows to do your business but it also tables and set our alarms for 3 a.m. so we won’t
means an outgoing tide is capable of leaving you be washed awake by the incoming tide. Stirring at
stranded kilometres deep in the no-man’s land be- this pre-dawn hour, we’re treated to the full cycle
tween water and shore. That is the only thing on of sunrise over the unencumbered curve of the
our minds. We are ready to camp one night on the earth. With us packed and ready to go, James Bay
bay, but we know one thing above all else: we do returns on cue and buoys us to paddle on.
not want to get stranded on the tidal flats. Our final day is hard work. We battle steep
Using our tide tables, we had planned to hit chop, a headwind, and the current of the Moose
James Bay on the flood, paddle hard for 30 kilo- River before making Moosonee by mid-afternoon.
metres to Little Netishi Point to camp on dry land, Landfall is euphoric. I’ve completed another jour-
and then finish the trip off the next day. ney and, more importantly, made friends with the
Everything is going as planned after starting on schoolyard bully.
time, but we soon find ourselves pulling up a river- FRANK WOLF is a vancouver-based writer. He last wrote about pad-
like channel as the rising tide rushes in to shore.
dling the boreal forest in the Summer 2008 issue of Canoeroots.
www.canoerootsmag.com 9
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