by Hart Haessler
It was March 21st….. Four impatient kayakers and a dog were gathered at the Snug Harbour dock. Lee, Sam, John, John, Kyra and I gazed out to the Snake Islands in the west. The destination was only barely visible as a dark speck against the grey horizon. Environment Canada had assured us of “fast ice” right across the bay. So we felt safe. But just in case, we kept a rope handy for assisted rescues. As for myself, I carried a knife under my jacket. If I broke through the ice, my plan was to drag myself back to firm ice using my knife as a pick. In retrospect, two knives would have been more practical.
We put on our skis and launched ourselves over frozen slush. The dock area was a maze of deep ruts. Slush and the subsequent freeze-up left deep snow- mobile ruts for us to clatter over or follow, depending on their orientation. After a half kilometre, the ruts veered off to the cottages to the north and south, but we continued to the west on hard-packed snow and patches of bare ice.
As I got into the rhythm of skiing, it occurred to me that cross-country skiing and kayaking are very similar. They both involve propelling oneself over H2O using hand-held devices as well as some means of reducing resistance and increasing flotation on their respective mediums. On big lakes there are other similarities. Wind is a help or a hindrance, and waves, fluid or solid, can be surfed. I’m pretty sure that breaking through the ice is similar to a very cold wet exit.
The wind from the west became stronger as we left the lee of Franklin Island. It was minus five but with the wind, it felt much colder. The skiing was fast on the crust but the specks on the horizon seemed no closer than before. Fortunately there was no loose snow because the ground drift with this wind would have left us in a white-out. We knew that we could cross in less than an hour of skiing, but we felt like the remnants of the Franklin Expedition, struggling against wind and cold, on a frozen sea. Finally the first bare rocks emerged from the ice. The lake level had dropped a foot since the ice had formed so each exposed rock was surrounded by a high collar of cracked blue ice. The stranded ice was at least twelve inches thick which was reassuring.
The twisted pines greeted us as we skied uphill onto the main island. The evergreen pines and junipers provided shelter just as in summer. We found a bare rock to eat our lunch, then we climbed to the highest point and looked out further to the west. There were breaking waves just a few kilometres out. Environment Canada information was obviously out-of-date.
We faced east again and began the return trek. Now we had the mid-channel lighthouse to guide us home. It stood in the frozen sea waiting for drifts to turn to waves in the never ending cycle of the sea- sons.
We accomplished something that may never be possible again. Changing global weather may prevent safe ice crossings in the future, but I am sure there will always be kayakers visiting the Snakes.