This page contains a Flash digital edition of a book.
And the Water Ran Dark


W W


Like a bridge over muddy water, the escape route on the Bonaventure.


c o m e s t h


e hardly noticed the rain during the night. The trees must have done a good job of sheltering us because when I crawled out of my tent in the morning I was disappointed to see the rain persisting. It had let up significantly from the day before, but that wasn’t saying much. Yesterday, the still-potent tail end of hurricane Frances had rumbled overtop of us as we spent our first day on the Bonaventure River.


I thought back to the news reports I had seen on television before boarding the train to come to Quebec’s Gaspé Peninsula. Frances had just ravaged Florida, leaving 34 dead in her wake. The fact that she had lost her hurricane status by the time we encountered her was little consolation. She was still packing the sort of punch that only Mother Nature can deliver.


By mid-afternoon, the river had started to rise noticeably. The Bonaventure’s nor- mally gin-clear waters had taken on a brownish tinge.


While the others snuggled in their damp sleeping bags, I walked toward the bank to look at the river and heard what sounded like a freight train roaring through the valley. The Bonaventure had been trans- formed. It’s ranked as one of the 10 most limpid rivers in the world but today it was a foaming mass of violent brown water. It looked like a chocolate milkshake in a blender gone berserk—except this milk- shake was rising six feet above the banks and flowing freely throughout the forest. Every eddy had disappeared. Floating


tree trunks and branches raced past at an alarming speed. Though I’ve been pad- dling rivers for 30 years, this normally


by Jim Hargreaves


intermediate river was a terrifying sight. I thought about the rest of the team—most were only novices. We were in pretty deep. I heard a noise behind me in the bush and turned to see our guide, Gilles Brideau, emerging from a small clearing a little further downstream. Though small and wiry, this enthusiastic French- Canadian pumps out more energy than a Hydro-Québec mega-project. He’s been guiding trips with his outfitting company Cime Aventure for 16 years. With sharp eyes gleaming beneath an ever-present weathered leather hat, Gilles looks every bit the backwoods pioneer.


Gilles was uncharacteristically subdued as we surveyed the rabid river. The canoes he had so wisely fastened to some trees were now floating around on the edge of the forest, tugging at their ropes. Gilles and I took a walk down the bank to scout the next kilometre or so of river, bushwhacking down the left bank and stopping wherever there was a vantage point. As the river swept around a long left bend, a tiny green island made a feeble attempt to disrupt the current. With emphatic language that brought some colour to the grey morning, Gilles explained how this patch of flooded trees was usually an island big enough for a campsite.


As we continued our reconnaissance my anxiety progressed like the rain trick- ling under my rainjacket and creeping down the back of my neck. There were large brown wave trains in the middle of the main stream and, to the sides, massive whirlpools and boils con- fused the current. Any eddies large enough to gather the group and prepare for the next section of river were nowhere to be seen.


20 www.canoeroots.ca


H e r e e s t o r y o


f t h e h u r r


i c a n e


photo by Jean-Pierre Huard


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68