Over more than two centuries this river has watched a significant part of the history of Canada unfolding. It has done more — as a transportation highway it helped formulate the early economic value of this great land.
In terms of the fur trade, the Hayes River route from York Factory to Norway House can be confusing. Whereas we now know the complete route from York Factory to the eastern end of the Echimamish River as the Hayes, in the nineteenth century the nomenclature of the various segments of the river was quite different. The initial ninety kilometres upriver from York Factory was the Hayes River. It then forks into two: the eastern branch is the Shamattawa River (now God’s River) and the western arm is the Steel River. The Hayes River route followed the Steel River until it also branched into two. The more westerly fork is the Fox River.The continuation of the Hayes route along the opposite branch was then known as Hill River until it joined Swampy Lake. At the western end of the lake, Jack River was a thirteen-kilometre link between Swampy Lake and Knee Lake. Between Knee Lake and Oxford Lake, the fur traders followed what they knew as the Trout River. From Oxford Lake to Painted Stone Portage the route once again became the Hayes River to some and the Jack River to others.15
In the summer, the river’s flow varies from a snail’s pace on the upper reaches, where the sluggish Echimamish meanders through vast fields of bulrushes, to long stretches of fast whitewater over the falls and down the rapids, and a still considerable current in the Hudson Bay lowlands. In winter, by contrast, most of the river freezes over, including the most dramatic falls and rapids in the harshest years. Toward the end of his first two years with the HBC, the young Scotsman, R.M. Ballantyne,16 later to become a popular author of adventure books for boys, wrote of the river ice beginning to break up on May 18, 1843, at York Factory, after being frozen to a depth of six feet (1.83 metres) with ice for the previous eight months:
The noble river …was entirely covered with huge blocks and jagged lumps of ice, rolling and dashing against each other in chaotic confusion, as the swelling floods heaved them up and swept them with irresistible force towards Hudson Bay….Where it was not so closely packed, a huge lump suddenly grounded on a shallow; and in a moment the rolling masses, which were hurrying towards the sea with the velocity of a cataract, were precipitated against it with a noise like thunder, and the tremendous pressure from above forcing block upon block with a loud hissing noise, raised, as if by magic, an icy castle in the air …”17
Ballantyne noted that the river mouth was choked with ice for a week, causing the water level to rise ten to fifteen feet (3.05 to 4.57 metres). It remained in that flooded state until, he wrote, “… About the end of May, the whole floated quietly out to sea …”18
With an average navigation season of no more than four months, between the beginning of June and the end of September, it was imperative that the heavily loaded brigades of York boats and canoes move as quickly up and down stream as possible.
With the spring break-up, as the ice flowed to the sea, it was followed by boats laden with furs from Norway House and farther west. Meanwhile, at York Factory, the residents eagerly awaited the news of the arrival of that year’s first ship from England. Many of the immigrants carried on that vessel, and on the many ships that came after, would struggle up the Hayes River through a wilderness of trees to a new life in what is now Manitoba. Much of the cargo would follow, in freight canoes and in York boats.
In the summer of 1846, the normally peaceful Hayes River was disturbed by 347 soldiers, men of the Sixth Regiment of Foot19 (later to be known as the Royal Warwickshire Regiment), and their artillery as they made their way upriver from York Factory to the Red River Settlement. Possible signs of that army’s passing, in the shape of campsites, are still in evidence.
The Hayes River is a river for summer travel only. In winter it freezes over for most of its length. Few people have braved the wicked winter cold to experience its beauty once the temperatures plummeted to way below zero. But it has been done. The eminent nineteenth-century Canadian explorer and geologist J.B. Tyrrell is reported to have trekked up the length of the Hayes River from York Factory to Norway House in less than a month in the winter of 1893, mostly on snowshoes.20
I had flown over the Hayes one summer while en route to Churchill. I recalled seeing long stretches of obvious rapids and whitewater flanked on either side by endless vistas of green. In the summer of 1994, I was ready for a much closer look.
CHAPTER 3 Norway House
THERE WAS NO ONE TO meet me on arrival at Norway House, but I knew I wouldn’t have to wait long for transport: I had been assured someone would collect me. Sure enough, after about fifteen minutes of kicking my heels, Irv Swanson, the economic development officer for the band, pulled up in a pickup truck followed by a cloud of dust to drive me to Ken’s furniture workshop.
As we walked in, Charlie and a few of the crew were hard at work, smoothing and painting their oar blades. Supplies for the expedition were stacked haphazardly around the floor. Sawdust and wood shavings added to the general air of chaos. The scene was familiar to me. Most of my own expeditions had started the same way: one room of wherever I lived being strewn with apparently random mounds of supplies waiting to be loaded or shipped out. Irv made the introductions amid a hubbub of voices, all speaking in the Cree language. Hesitantly, perhaps shyly, the young men in the workshop put down their tools and greeted me one by one, each reaching out to shake my extended hand.
With the introductions out of the way, Albert Tait, a Métis who would not be going with us, sat on a chair in the middle of the room and told a crude joke about a parrot, a cord of wood, and a bald guy. I suspect it was told to see how I would react, in view of my own shiny pate. It was funny and I laughed loudly with the rest of them. Albert then said the joke was much funnier in Cree and told it again in his own language. If anything the guys all laughed even louder this time. I could only assume it really was funnier in Cree.
Ken McKay was nowhere to be seen and no one seemed to know where he was. The crew weren’t doing much in the way of work so, as there didn’t seem to be much point in my hanging around also doing nothing, Irv drove me to the small motel on the south side of the community. I checked in for one night, dumped my gear in the room, and went visiting.
Irv introduced me to the present manager of the department store, now called the Northern store.1 That worthy showed me the old jail and original HBC buildings, both dating from the mid 1800s. The tiny, old, whitewashed jail, with its massively thick stone walls, had never contributed much to the history books. According to Norway House records, the jail only ever had one inmate. He, according to the story, was incarcerated for beating his wife. The old Hudson’s Bay Company post, known locally as the Archway Warehouse, is pristine white with red-and-black trim. Close by is a full-size York boat replica on the lawns beside the Nelson River. A plaque leaning against the hull tells its own story:
This York boat was built in 1974 by Norway House residents under the supervision of Charles Edward Campbell. Charlie modelled his own York boat after one he had seen in Lower Fort Garry and then returned to Norway House to teach others how to build York boats. Charlie chose to leave the legacy of York boat building with Ken McKay and the annual York boat races have evolved from this.
The C.E. Campbell York boat on display at Norway House is named for Charlie Campbell, long-time HBC employee and boat-builder.
This original HBC storage building next to the Nelson River in Norway House dates from the early nineteenth century.
It was comforting to have physical evidence, at last, of Ken McKay’s boat-building background. He obviously had benefited from a talented teacher. Even though I still