To Halls Harbour: The Failed Expedition (Part I)
The following is an excerpt from my journal regarding my failed journey out to Nova Scotia by canoe. Rest assured that plans are underway to make August 2020 (since we know how hindsight can be) the accomplished expedition to Halls Harbour. #ToHallsHarbour2020
The fog on the Ottawa River
In all honesty, this journal entry should have been relegated to Canada Day but for reasons that will become apparent in the coming paragraphs, here we are today, nearly a week later.
On Monday, July 1st, I had finally fixed the opportunity to sally forth on my too-long-awaited adventure, by canoe, from my hometown of Deep River, ON to the small town of Halls Harbour, NS - situated on the Bay of Fundy.
The journey in its entirety is a stretch of over 1500km from the Ottawa River to the St. Lawrence, to the St. John, then finally the Bay of Fundy.
My most loving girlfriend, Marla McHardy, was to paddle the first two days with me, then we would part ways in Ottawa so she could travel over land towards the eastern provinces on her own solo adventure, meeting me only four times throughout the trip for resupply and eventual pickup. Suffice it to say, we never made it to Ottawa.
One of the many bays we had to skirt to keep our bearings in the fog
When we left on the morning of the 1st, it was about 8am and the heaviest fog either of us had ever seen on the river, let alone ever paddled, had settled in. Perhaps had we taken this as sign enough to postpone a day, we might have had clearer and more decisive heads leading up to what became our ultimate defeat.
However, given that I knew the Ottawa waters well enough from Deep River to Petawawa, I was confident we could navigate the fog until the day’s promised sunshine lifted the veil. For safety, we did scoop every single bay from Deep River to Chalk River to avoid being hit by a fishing boat or turning about in circles for hours. The sight of us fading into the heavy fog from the perspective of family and friends ashore must have been an eerie sight indeed. Much love to those who came to see us off.
We had the time, through the fog, no matter how impatient I may have felt to finally realize this trip after seven years of anticipation. And the fog turned out to be a boon when happening upon a residential dock. What should I spy but a solitary, what I presumed to be (from lack of plumage), female Great Blue Heron.
Great Blue Heron preparing for flight
Now, for those who know me well, the mere mention of this bird will likely cause either laughter or eye-rolling. After spending ten days on the Manitou Islands on Lake Nippising in 2016, I became obsessed with getting a quality photo of one of these majestic birds. In spite of the heron roost upon the island and the perfect reeded bay on the outer edge of the same island for feeding, I could get nothing but distant and blurry photos. That had been the case for three years. Until I finally met with this glorious bird on the Ottawa River. Finally, with the right distance, equipment and patience, I got my quality photo of the Great Blue Heron.
Great Blue Heron taking off
And so, the morning and we continued down the Ottawa, the sun breaking the deep fog shortly after 9am, freeing Marla and I to paddle out into the channel to take advantage of the current on our first day of 45-50km.
Marla ‘The Mouse’ McHardy happy about being able to see again
While the river did become rather busy with excited swimmers, boaters and sea-doers preparing for a wonderful Canada Day, the majesty of the river and the creatures within, above and surrounding it did not escape our notice. After all, the land and the water have been here for much longer than 152 years.
Marla caught a rather significant glance at what we gathered was a very large pike. I got some wonderful photos of a butterfly on a brief break for nature. We both thoroughly enjoyed the ducks, geese, gulls, loons and cormorants frolicking about the waters surrounding the many islands of Petawawa.
A beautiful butterfly on the Quebec shore
Eventually, Pembroke was in our sights. This was our destination for the night; staying with my most generous grandparents. They met us at the marina, helped us with our gear, then brought us home to treat us to a delicious meal of chicken, fresh garden vegetables, garlic bread and good, wholesome Canadian rye whisky (happy Canada Day to me).
After just about 50km of paddling, these luxuries, as well as a subsequent bath, seemed all the more enjoyable, though I know I had to be prepared for the brunt of the journey which would be devoid of such luxury and hospitality.
All the same, we settled into comfort and conversation and, eventually, a deep sleep where I dreamt of nothing but silence, and Marla nothing but water.
Photos by: Anthony Leclair & Marla McHardy
