From my earliest years the sea held a fascination for me that I could never deny. Perhaps that had much to do with being born in Gravesend, on the south bank of the Thames estuary — in its lower reaches, one of the most important commercial rivers in the world. Every day a never-ending parade of ships of all sizes and from all maritime nations steamed up and down the river, to and from Tilbury Docks and the Pool of London. As a small boy, whenever I could, I watched from the shore and dreamed of faraway places.
In direct contrast to the sea, following an extended visit to Egypt, Sudan, and Libya, followed by the equally sand-covered lands of Syria, Jordan, and Iraq in my early twenties, I developed a passion for deserts. As a direct result of that initial North African and Middle Eastern experience, I later spent much time exploring the western and central Sahara, the incredibly beautiful Namib, much more of the Middle East, and the barren parts of the Australian Outback. Most years, my love of boats and being on the water fitted comfortably in between desert journeys.
Despite my devotion to the deserts and seas of the world, often when back home in Canada I would study maps of the North. In the late 1970s and mid 1980s I travelled in the Arctic a few times and knew I wanted to see more. Equally, I was fascinated by the barren lands between the populated southern corridor across Canada and the Arctic Circle. The great rivers, in particular, called out to me, perhaps inspired by my early years on the banks of the Thames. Tales of the adventures lived by the hardy fur traders and explorers of the Hudson’s Bay Company intrigued me. I knew that one day, when I had had my fill of deserts, I would roam north and see more of Canada.
In 1992 I visited Churchill, Manitoba, on a photojournalism assignment. There, on the shores of Hudson Bay, I met Mark Ingebrigtson. Mark, owner of a local travel agency, loaned me his truck so I could go exploring on my own. He arranged for me to take a helicopter flight over the Hudson Bay shoreline in search of polar bears. He and a fellow photographer, Mike Macri, showed me Churchill and its environs in a way that few could. Across the Churchill River, easily visible from where I watched beluga whales cruising in from the bay, stood the concrete bulk of Fort Prince of Wales: once a bastion of the Hudson’s Bay Company.
Eighteen months later Mark’s friend and business associate, Rob Bruce-Barron, a marketing advisor to a variety of Manitoba organizations, contacted me with an offer I could not resist. A team of Cree First Nation rowers from Norway House were planning to take a replica of a traditional York boat down the full length of the Hayes River to York Factory in the summer of 1994. Would I like to go with them to document the expedition? Would I?You bet I would.
At that time I was living in Antwerp,3 Belgium. Manitoba and Norway House were on the other side of an ocean. Fortunately, I had a few months in which to make arrangements. Between other writing and photography jobs, I studied maps of Manitoba, I read about the Hudson’s Bay Company’s use of the Hayes River, and I learned how York boats were built. I still had no idea what I was getting myself into. I just knew I had to be a part of that historic voyage.
River Rough, River Smooth is, for the most part, the remarkable story of an expedition on an historic Canadian river that started full of promise, yet failed because, I suspect, the reality of the journey was considerably more demanding than the dream that inspired it. The original expedition by York boat was terminated less than half the way down the Hayes River. That rather abrupt ending of what could have continued as a great adventure for all of us on board saddened me deeply. However, I had committed myself to travelling 650 kilometres on the Hayes River and, despite the unexpected change of plans at Oxford House in 1994 and again in 1995, I was determined to continue the journey one way or another. After a few false starts, six summers later I did just that.That journey, too, is part of this story, as are brief glimpses into life as it was for the river runners and other travellers during the fur-trade era.
York Factory as it looked in 1853. The author’s goal was to reach York Factory by travelling the full length of the Hayes River.
I am grateful for the opportunity of challenging the Hayes River with the easygoing members of the Norway House York boat crew. Most of the time I enjoyed myself immensely and I learned so much from them. Equally, I can smile with satisfaction when I think of the later expedition by canoe: of my travelling companions and the adventures we shared on the next stage of that great river coursing across Manitoba to spill itself into Hudson Bay. Both journeys were physically challenging. Both were important history lessons for me. In combination, they were another realization of some of my boyhood dreams.
WITHOUT THE APPROVAL OF Ken McKay, from Norway House, I would never have been offered the opportunity of taking part in the York boat expedition. We didn’t always agree once we were on the river, but he has my respect and my extreme gratitude. I should also mention that I have the utmost admiration for his boat-building skills. In addition, I must offer my sincere thanks to the other members of the crew for allowing me to share their adventure. They are: Charlie Muchikekwanape, Wayne Simpson, Ryan Simpson, Gordon McKay, Edward Monias, Nathanial “Simon” Clynes, David Chubb Jr., Murray Balfour, John Wesley, Ken Ormand Sr., and Benjamin Paul.To a man, they demonstrated tenacity and absolute dedication to the task at hand. Their forefathers, the early Cree tripmen, would have been so proud of them. I would like to comment on the friendship that Charlie and Wayne showed me from the start in Norway House and during our time on the river. It was important to me and much appreciated. I know I am indebted to many other people of the Cree First Nation from Norway House; most notably I would like to single out Irv Swanson and Albert Tait. Irv met me at the airstrip and introduced me to Norway House and the York boat crew. Albert befriended me, kept me amused with his nonstop jokes, and drove me around Norway House and the surrounding area. I enjoyed his company and will always regret that he was not able to join us on the river.
I am deeply grateful to Mark Ingebrigtson from Churchill for his support during a series of visits to Manitoba. Likewise, in Winnipeg, I owe thanks to Rob Bruce-Barron of CanZeal Ltd. who arranged for my journey with the Norway House York Boat Expedition, and, on two occasions, found room and a bed for me in his home. Over a few years, Denis Maksymetz at Travel Manitoba and Charles Hatzipanayis from Industry Canada gave me much leeway in my travels around their beautiful province and opened many important doors for me. I thank you both for your generosity. My thanks also to Tim Muskego and Neil Bradburn at Oxford House for their kindness to me while I waited in vain for the Norway House crew to arrive in 1995.
On the canoe run from Oxford House to York Factory, I thoroughly enjoyed the company of fellow author Barbara J. Scot, biologists Valerie Hodge and Herbert Koepp and, from Winnipeg-based Wilderness Spirit Adventures, the highly skilled and irrepressible duo of Rob Currie and Mark Loewen. Rob and Mark shared with us their enthusiasm for great Canadian rivers and their seemingly inexhaustible supply of humour. Thanks also to their partner and mentor, Bruno Rosenberg; and to the Discovery Channel television crew who joined us briefly late in the journey. The cooks at Knee Lake Lodge deserve credit and our gratitude for feeding six cold, wet, and weary voyagers one stormy evening. Eric Saunders of Silver Goose Camp Ltd. sent me useful information on York Factory, which I received with thanks. Finally, thanks to Air Canada for getting me to Winnipeg and home again.
As with a previous book dealing with Hudson’s Bay Company history, I am extremely appreciative of the ever helpful staff at the Archives of Manitoba/HBC Archives in Winnipeg.
Some of my fellow writers in the Canadian Authors Association have given me so much encouragement over the past few years; they deserve mention, especially: Matthew Bin, Karen (kc) Dyer, Suzanne Harris, Margaret Hume, Jean Kay, Bernice Lever, Anita Purcell, Arlene Smith, and my favourite Irish author — Patrick Taylor. Thanks so much.You are special people.
My thanks to Barry Penhale of Natural Heritage Books (part of the Dundurn Group) for taking on this project and