CONFESSIONS OF A KNOW-IT-ALL
By Sheena Masson May 1990
This story previously appeared in shunpiking magazine (1996), and in Paddle Quest (2000), a collection of paddling stories from across Canada.
It was a warm day in early May and Fred and I had just put in on the Waughs River near Tatamagouche in northern Nova Scotia. The upper Waughs is too stony to paddle in the summer but in spring it’s a two hour stretch of Class One and Class Two rapids, ledges and standing waves. Nothing major – just a bit of spring tonic for a couple of sometime canoeists.
Ahead of us we saw the main channel narrow, deepen and turn to the left around a gravel bar. More importantly, on the right side of the bend was a large tree standing in the river about three metres from shore. I steered the boat to the left away from this obstacle which of course slammed us straight into the tree sideways. We half tipped and took on water. The impact was hard enough to dent an aluminium canoe and cause Fred in the bow to drop his paddle.
More seasoned canoeists will understand why this happened and that in my situation, I should actually have been steering toward the tree. Yes, toward the tree. This became clear after I took a white water course with Canoe Nova Scotia. But more on this in a minute.
I have heard stories from occasional canoeists like myself out for a pleasant river trip who suddenly found themselves literally in over their heads. This is very frightening for some people. Canoes are destroyed, gear is lost and lives endangered. My experience was minor by comparison but it was enough to shake me up.
Why does this happen? I’m sure there are lots of reasons. In my case, it was a lack of white water skills and I must confess, an attitude that needed adjusting. Perhaps this sounds like you. Canoe clinics may be just what you’re looking for. You might also discover a big unexpected plus like I did.
My canoeing background was probably quite similar to that of many other canoe enthusiasts in this province. Most of my paddling has been essentially flat water since white water time in Nova Scotia is short and sweet. I often go up stream and then down on the gentle tidal sections of river along the North Shore where I lived.
Following that experience on the Waughs, I decided it was time to learn more about paddling. I knew that Canoe Nova Scotia gave clinics but there were none being offered in my area. After a few more river trips including two more down the Waughs (we avoided the tree by portaging across the gravel bar), I was feeling pretty confident again. I thought I knew how to get down a river. I was something of a know-it-all although in reality I knew few strokes and little about reading a river.
The first ray of light fell into the darkness when Fred lent me a copy of Path of the Paddle by Bill Mason and I realised there was much more to this than I had ever imagined. Then, I spent an afternoon on the Wallace River with a skilled paddler Scott Maston. As we ferried easily back and forth and turned into eddies, I saw the folly of my ways. My approach in fast water had been to use the paddle like a rudder and yell instructions at the muscle up in the bow. Perhaps I picked this up from my coxing days with the Dalhousie rowing team. This is a limiting technique in a canoe.
That day on the Wallace, we let the river do the work. Later at a white water clinic on the LaHave River, I learned more about letting the river do the work as we set the angle on the canoe and shot across the water. The clinic began with an evening talk on river hydrology (how water moves in a river) and maneuvers such as pointing toward what you want to avoid or back ferrying. If I had steered toward that tree on the Waughs River (which is admittedly against our natural instincts), the increased flow of water on the right side would have pushed the bow to the left and downstream.
Over the weekend, we practised braces, bow cuts, peel outs and other strokes and then applied all this as we played in a small hydraulic or upstream rotating wave. We also spent a lot of time on what to do if you go over and the right way to float downstream in a current. For the grand finale, we all took turns rescuing others and then being rescued out on the river. It will take a few more white water clinics and river trips before the moves come naturally but I am definitely more prepared for an emergency.
So what was the unexpected plus? Well, like many other paddlers out there, my white water trips were always bow first downstream all the way. I never once thought about turning my canoe upstream and playing in the rapids! Not only did I learn more about control at the clinic, I discovered a new way to have fun. I’m still a canoe tripper at heart but this is a great way to liven up the trip.
A final word about flatwater clinics. I got my basic flatwater training at a one day clinic. I found it to be an excellent place to start even though I had been paddling for years. You learn the basic strokes and again there is an emphasis on safety and rescue techniques.
So what do you learn in the advanced flatwater clinic? The clinic I attended at Kejimkujik National Park was one day of tandem paddling with a review of basic skills followed by a day of solo strokes. What are solo strokes, I thought? Until that clinic, I thought solo paddling was what you did if you couldn’t get anyone else to go with you. I had never tried it.
This was to be another eye-opener. Here were all these people sitting off-side in the middle of the boat paddling with the canoe tipped way over. Over the weekend I realised what a skilled solo paddler can do. If white water is slam dancing, flatwater is ballet. The canoeist can move the boat side ways, pirouette around the paddle or turn gracefully with a little forward momentum. Meditation in motion. Another way to have fun instead of just crossing the lake.
The instructors showed us more strokes than I could learn in two days and I didn’t get my advanced flat water that time. That’s OK. Some people take the clinics two or three times whether or not they pass. I’ll be back.
Photo by Jantine Doornbos on Unsplash
