WREAF 2009 Trans-Labrador Expedition Report

1. Quebec Trans-Labrador Recon Expedition 2009
Prepared by Rob Mullen
Schefferville, QC - George River - Nain, Labrador
August 29 - September 18 - October 12
Canoe Crew:
Rob Mullen; WREAF artist, expedition leader, Schefferville to Nain
Kalon Baughan; WREAF artist, whitewater specialist, Schefferville to George River
Cole Johnson; WREAF artist, George River to Nain
Rod Lawrence; WREAF artist, Schefferville to George River
Archaeology Crew:
Dr. Stephen Loring; WREAF, Lac aux Goelands archaeological survey
Dr. Joan Gero; Lac aux Goelands archaeological survey
Support Personnel:
Bonnie Rowell; WREAF
Megan Findley, CWF
Tony Jenkinson; WREAF, Sheshatshui, Labrador
Neil Simmons; Labrador City, Labrador
Ricky Drudge; manager Tunilik’s Twin River Lodge
Raymond Cloutier (pilot)
Henry Webb; Nain, Labrador
We designed this expedition to explore several aspects of a developing environmental
education project stemming from WREAF’s on-going focus on wildlife and landscape
art, natural history and adventure, combined with archaeology, anthropology and current
Innu cultural issues from the Smithsonian’s Dr. Stephen Loring and Tony Jenkinson of
the Tshikapisk Foundation in Sheshatshui, Labrador. We also intended it to stand on its
own as an educational adventure from Lac Attikamagen east of Schefferville, Quebec, to
Nain, Labrador, thirty miles north of the mouth of the Kogaluk. The route would pass
through three major ecosystems, completely traversing northern Labrador from the
Height of Land to the Labrador Sea - a true “Rivers to Oceans” journey.
Specifically the recon aspect of the journey was to test the feasibility of paddling from
Schefferville, QC to Lake Kamestastin in 2010 as a part of a story about the land, the
wildlife and the people that depend on them (directly, caribou and the Innu; by extension,
the natural world and all of us). It would traverse the traditional homeland of the Mushua-
Innu, specifically including the routes between the George River (Mushua-shipu) and
Lake Kamestastin; two key physiographic features in traditional Innu culture and the
ecology of the region. The recon diverged from the route to Kamestastin by turning north
to the Kogaluk between Hawk Lake and Long Pond, but covered all but a half day’s walk
according to Dr. Loring. The 2010 canoe journey would be run as close to the autumn
caribou migration as possible and in conjunction with on-going archaeological fieldwork
being conducted by Dr. Loring on ancient Innu caribou hunting camps. It would conclude
at Lake Kamestastin with a base camp during the autumn migration.

2. Combined with an expedition to Kamestastin in April and May 2010 for the spring
caribou migration, it would follow the caribou and associated species (i.e. wolves, bears
and humans) through two defining events of the year. Using film, museum exhibitions,
magazine and newspaper articles and internet presentations, we will share the interaction
of land use, habitat preservation, reinvigorating native culture and its historically
inseparable connection to wildlife and the lessons we can all take from that dynamic.
Focus on the migrations also provides a multifaceted insight into how a meteorite impact
that stuck Labrador about 38 million years ago created a microhabitat that has drawn the
caribou through during migration for thousands of years.
As originally envisioned, this year’s recon expedition was to proceed as follows:
1. Kalon, Rod and I would drive to Labrador City from Montreal. Tony Jenkinson
would come out from Goose Bay to meet us and return with our vehicle to Goose
Bay while we boarded the Tshiuetin RR for Schefferville (no access by road).
2. Meet with Tunilik Adventures for overnight and separate out provisions for the
resupply flight (that would meet us on the 18th) and drive a few miles east to Lake
Attikamagen the next morning with the two tandem canoes
3. From Lake Attikamagen east of Schefferville, QC to the headwaters of the De
Pas River
4. Down the De Pas to its confluence with the George River 145 miles into the
journey; recharge batteries at Tunilik’s Twin River Lodge at the confluence
5. Work out a portage route to Lac Mistinibi. This was a major challenge of the trip
since it required a minimum distance of six miles overland, climbing eastward
out of the George River watershed
6. Artist, Cole Johnson would drive to Labrador City on Sept 16, leave his truck
there, take the train to Schefferville and come in to join the crew with the
resupply plane on Sept 18, as far east along Lac Mistinibi as we could manage
after the portage (the solo canoe would come in too)
7. Meet Tshikapisk co-founder Tony Jenkinson at the eastern end of Mistinibi and
portage across the Height of Land to Labrador at Hawk Lake (determining which
of two possible portage routes was best)
8. From Hawk Lake the route was to follow the outlet stream as it grew into a river
and flowed ENE converging on Long Pond to the north
9. At the closest point of approach to Long Pond the crew would portage a few
hundred yards across relatively level tundra to Long Pond
10. Following a small river upstream to a series of ponds north of Long Pond the
crew would commence a “pond hopping” series of portages to reach the canyon
of the Kogaluk
11. After working out the challenging portage down off the Tundra Highlands to the
Kogaluk the crew would paddle this larger river (that ironically means “Little
River” in Inuktitut) to the Labrador Sea at Voisey Bay
12. At Voisey Bay would commence a thirty mile paddle through the coastal
archipelago to Nain, Labrador; the most northerly permanent settlement in
Labrador, thus completing a complete traverse of northern Labrador

3. 13. From Nain, the crew would travel by a coastal freighter which sails once a week
and serves the coastal communities of Labrador, back to Goose Bay.
14. After a night in Goose Bay Tony would return home to Sheshatshui and the rest
of the crew would return to Labrador City in Rod’s vehicle. In Lab City we
would pick up Cole Johnson’s vehicle and continue back to Montreal and points
west and south
We also originally intended to include a rendezvous with Dr. Loring’s archaeology field
team on Lac Mistinibi after they finished an archaeological survey of Lac aux Goelands.
However, weather delayed the start of his survey work on Lac aux Goelands south of our
rendezvous point. Dr. Loring therefore decided to conduct his survey as a separate
WREAF expedition and will provide a report to CWF on his findings. Work on Lac
Mistinibi will continue next year with the 2010 expedition.
That was the plan. However, as is usually the case in wilderness travel, things didn’t go
according to plan. In the tundra highlands of Labrador, the topographic maps were
misleading, first-hand accounts did not reflect the conditions we encountered, no
information was available ahead of time on water levels and the nearest available weather
data varied enormously, ranging from near drought conditions to heavy rain in the
preceding months. Despite extensive pre-trip preparation, terrain conditions, water levels,
weather, equipment failures, medical issues and physical and mental challenges in the
field, tested our resources, experience, imagination, skill and resolve.
The Expedition
The expedition divided into sections; more literally than originally envisioned. Not only
were there the three major ecosystem divisions and the archaeology team as mentioned
above, but the main expedition also broke into sections distinguished by their respective
degrees of “wilderness” with two almost completely different crews. The first section of
the expedition, on the De Pas River to the George River, is a traveled and documented
route with considerable whitewater. Eastward from the George, we traversed a region that
is as remote and unknown to modern travelers as can be found in this day and age.
The Drive
Accessing Schefferville, QC requires air or rail transport. Since we were finishing the
journey at Goose Bay, Labrador, it made sense to access the Tshiuetin rail line that runs
from Sept Iles, QC to Schefferville at Emeril Junction, east of Labrador City via Quebec
Route 389 north from Baie Comeau, QC and the Trans-Labrador Highway. North of the
Manic 5 dam that impounds the enormous Manicouagan Reservoir, Quebec 389 is a
challenging road (even on the paved section below Manic 5, it twists so badly that you
can see your own taillights).
As in all previous WREAF expeditions, this one used the private vehicles of WREAF
members. As in a few other expeditions, we had a problem with excessive speed and poor
driving habits. This time, for the first time on any WREAF expedition, excess speed and

4. inattention lead to a minor accident. Even this lesson was not enough; rather than slow
down, the driver actually increased his speed, leading to a confrontation with me. Egos
and private vehicles are a problematic mix. I will discuss some ideas regarding solutions
to this issue in the conclusions of this report.
Using the satellite phone for the first time at Schefferville, I discovered that it drained
batteries at an alarming rate. Even recharged at the floatplane base, the batteries only
lasted for a few calls before being useless. There was nothing we could do except reserve
the satellite phone for true emergencies and important logistical communications.
Lake Attikamagen – La Riviere De Pas
September 1
We were driven out to Attikamagen and put in at 2:30 pm Labrador time (Schefferville is
in Quebec, but the border is very irregular and the first portion of our journey was in
Labrador).
We used both traditional navigation
(map and compass sight navigation)
and GPS to stay on course across the
confusing welter of points, bays and
false leads across Attikamagen. An
early example of the wisdom of
backing up technology with traditional
map skills occurred when UTM
coordinates from the topographic maps
were mistranscribed into the GPS
yielding a serious error. A discussion
ensued about the proper course when
the GPS indicated a turn into a bay that
made no sense according to the map. Lake Attikamagen
This precursor to serious GPS issues that arose later provided a timely example of the
pitfalls of over-reliance on (or blind faith in) technology. We had a phone-in question
regarding how we kept from getting lost so I emphasized the importance of traditional
skills even when technology is available. We made 15 miles to a point just shy of the
passage to Mole Lake – excellent progress for a late start; especially since it meant that
the potentially problematic large Lake Attikamagen was behind us (winds can turn a
placid lake crossing dangerous, or even impossible, in just a few minutes).
After Attikamagen, we reached the Height of Land, passing back into Quebec and the
headwaters of the De Pas River.

5. De Pas River – the George River
On the De Pas, we had generally fine weather. Our main challenges were low water on
the upper river, challenging whitewater on the lower river and for the first time on a
WREAF expedition, crew cohesiveness. As we descended the river, the water levels
became less of a problem and with Kalon running lead, we managed all the rapids and
have some good film of some R3 and R4 whitewater runs. Kalon, a natural showman,
did a wonderful job of keeping a running video journal of this portion of the trip,
focusing on some of the phone-in questions that we had from students to make up for the
satellite phone being largely useless for that purpose.
Kalon was, however, a frustrating member of the crew. Incredibly talented, often very
enthusiastic, and imaginatively helpful, he also could be ill tempered and irrational. He
displayed a wide range of behaviors, from genial open friendliness with effusive praise of
everything to bizarre criticisms and aggressive confrontations over nothing. He
obstinately refused to get out of bed before 8 am, insisted on repeated and pointless
dinner inventories and a week into the trip developed a sudden insistence on impossibly
detailed itineraries of the Labrador section (for which detailed information did not exist).
Having him continue on the far more challenging Labrador section was starting to seem
like a bad and possibly dangerous idea. I suspected that underneath it all, for whatever
reason, Kalon himself wanted off. I therefore suggested to him that he could fly back out
on the resupply plane after our big portage to Mistinibi and (with Cole’s permission) use
Cole’s truck at Labrador City to return to Montreal. This would cost only a $35 train
ticket above our anticipated expenses. This met with instant approval and his mood rose
dramatically (supporting my suspicion that he simply wanted to go home).
However, also as we neared the George, a serious toe infection that Rod had developed in
August flared back up. His doctor had cleared him for this trip but had initially warned
that the original infection had been a threat to his toe and possibly even his foot (as in
amputation). Its coming back was therefore a serious concern. Moreover, with a painful
and at risk foot, he would be unable to undertake the strenuous 6-mile uphill portage out
of the George River (requiring 30 miles of walking). He had back-up antibiotics with him
and was capable of continuing on the De Pas, but the portage was out; as a precaution, he
would have to fly out from the George. The Trans-Labrador section was utterly remote,
unlike the De Pas; evacuation could be very difficult to impossible depending on terrain
and weather. Moreover, it involved several long portages, so it was far too great a risk to
have Rod proceed, even if there had been a way to get him over the George River portage
(having the resupply flight pick us up on the George and fly us over the portage had
always been a backup plan in case of difficulties).
Tunilik has one of their main lodges, Twin River Lodge, at the confluence of the De Pas
and George rivers. This made for a convenient pick up point for Rod. Now, however,
Kalon continuing with me and returning on the resupply plane from Mistinibi would be
problematic; it was also academic. Once I decided that we needed to fly Rod out from the
George, Kalon became disinclined to continue at all. A final confrontation removed all
doubt when Kalon accused me of risking Rod’s life to save money among a host of other

6. complaints. It was the last straw; traveling beyond the George with Kalon was not a safe
option. I informed them both while they were having breakfast that Kalon would fly out
with Rod from Twin River Lodge on the George. Interestingly, Kalon’s mood for the rest
of the trip was positively ebullient. I could do no wrong, and aside from a slightly
disturbing “over the top” quality to his enthusiasm, Kalon was the sort of crewmember I
dream of; as I said, “frustrating”.
As we approached the last stretches of the De Pas, we were encountering more and more
caribou. Interestingly, based on
wide ranging conversations on
unconventional topics, Kalon had
earlier suggested I envision a
large herd crossing the river.
Sure enough, as we approached
the last of the De Pas, we saw a
large herd swimming the George
and then start up the bank of the
De Pas toward us. We beached
the canoes and waited in the
shoreline brush up from the beach. They all came right past us until the canoes spooked
the lead cow. Rod and I got good stills and Kalon shot some beautiful video from only a
short distance. It was the first of several large herds we saw.
A short while afterwards, we entered the
George River and paddled up to the
lodge.
Twin River Lodge
Camp manager Ricky Drudge and his wife, Christina graciously welcomed us. Kalon and
Rod flew out on a return supply flight to the lodge on Tuesday, Sept 15. My stay yielded
an interesting chapter to the story of this expedition and wildlife issues. Twin River
Lodge is a hunting camp, the caribou were streaming through, and the hunters were
“tagging out” almost to a man (each hunter has two caribou tags, allowing them to kill
two caribou). While many of the camp’s clients were stereotypic of the sort of hunters
that give hunting a bad name, some were not. Most at odds with the common
characterization of hunters though was the camp manager Ricky Drudge. In my
discussions with him and his assistant, I found them to be acutely sensitive to
conservation and ethical hunting issues, providing expansive common ground with non-

7. hunter conservationists. This was an example of an on-going opinion of mine that non-
hunter environmentalists and hunters are (or should be) on the same side despite the
appearance of conflict that is often stoked by groups like PETA and the NRA. My stay at
Twin River Lodge could serve as a lesson on the role of hunters in wildlife conservation.
As far as the expedition was concerned however, I had no one to help with the portage
and to continue as planned, would have to paddle Mistinibi by myself. Mistinibi is a large
lake with unavoidable open water crossings. The danger in wind is considerable and a
single canoe (let alone a single canoeist) is at far greater risk. Doable, yes, but traveling
alone in this region was not a risk I had planned on and in consideration of loved ones,
one I wouldn’t take unless absolutely necessary. However, staying put until Cole came in
would put us almost a week behind schedule and still leave us with the dangerous
situation of a single canoe on a big lake (in the event of a capsize there would be no one
to assist). While at Twin River, I learned that Tony Jenkinson’s funding had not come
through and that he wouldn’t be able to meet us on Mistinibi. Now there was even less
reason to risk the big lake.
We had already discussed the possibility of having our resupply flight meet us at the
eastern end of Mistinibi (where Tony would have been) and the less likely possibility of
having the resupply flight stop at the George River on the way and hop us over the big
portage. By combining those two ideas and continuing another five miles we would be on
Hawk Lake and avoid a now pointless 2-mile portage over the Height of Land between
Quebec and Labrador that would only slow us down by another day. This seemed the best
idea to maximize safety and the continuation of the expedition while maintaining most of
the original goals. I reluctantly decided it was the best option and called Andre to arrange
it. We split the flight with some caribou hunters going out and therefore were under
enormous time pressure. Raymond Cloutier, the pilot decided that he could not take both
canoes, so we left one in the care of Tunilik at the camp for use next year. Cole no sooner
landed than we were hastily sorting and repacking the extra food (now only for two).
Within a few minutes, we were airborne again for the 15-minute flight to Hawk Lake.
Hawk Lake to Long Pond; September 18 - 21
Raymond Cloutier and his DeHavilland Beaver
landed us at the eastern end of Hawk Lake, circled
back around for a wave after taking back off and
quickly vanished back into the west. Suddenly
alone, but happy to be back on the journey, Cole
and I hiked back into Quebec so that our trek would
be a true and complete crossing of Northern
Labrador from the Height-of-Land to the Labrador
Sea. We hiked back to the canoe, loaded up and set
off, hoping that afternoon to reach the point where we could most easily portage to the
next section of our route north to the Kogaluk, Long Pond.

8. The route I had worked out followed the outlet stream trending ENE on a gradually
converging course toward Long Pond, which roughly paralleled it to the north. William
Cabot pioneered this through route in 1901, Dr. Loring paddled it in ’79 and ’84 and the
Innu used parts of it for thousands of years until the 1950’s. As we started, the water was
low, requiring some lining and dragging, but
being high in the watershed I was not too
concerned. However, a few miles further, a
massive boulder choke totally blocked the
stream, with nothing but narrow rivulets of
water coursing between large boulders for at
least half a mile. There was no indication of
rocks in the stream on the 1:50,000 scale
topographic map. Normally that scale map
indicates significant rocks in a river let alone
such a populous community of them. We could see open water far beyond, so we camped
next to a dried kettle pond, planning to carry around the unanticipated obstacle in the
morning. The morning was cold, windy and clear. Fresh snow on the ground and a
Gyrfalcon overhead welcomed us to our first full day in the Tundra Highlands. Thus, we
commenced what was to be one of the most challenging and rewarding wilderness
journeys I have ever undertaken.
With the brushy carry complete, we loaded the canoe and set off, glad to back on the
water and fully expecting to work out the short portage to Long Pond later that day. Such
was not to be. To our escalating dismay and surprise, and with utter disregard for the
wide clear stream indicated on the government maps, more boulder chokes appeared
every time we thought we were back in the clear. After two days of grueling work and
vanishingly little progress, I concluded that we had to abandon our planned route; there
was not enough water. It was an exciting physical and mental challenge to work out and
execute an alternative in such a remote and trackless wilderness; especially after the GPS
failed. I worked out an alternate portage route to Long Pond; one that instead of a few
hundred relatively level yards, covered close to two miles of rough ground with a steady
climb and steep descent. The strong west wind created tall steep waves and threatened to
drive us onto the many exposed rocks at or near the surface. However, even being on
Long Pond did not save us from our low water woes. Unbelievably, what the map
showed as lake, turned out to be boulder strewn and impassable river! Back to the map
and we set out to recon a portage route around this newest obstacle.
Long Pond to the Kogaluk; September 21 - 26

9. Even when back on our planned course, the utterly remote and untouched character of the
land imbued the experience with a simultaneously exciting and intimidating sense of
isolation and lurking danger. That impression was accentuated by the ceaseless wind,
cold and snow and the constant reminder of the awesome wildlife in the area; including
an enormous wolf who’s tracks indicated a weight in excess of my own and a huge bear
who after standing straight up to look us over, approached brazenly to investigate our
lunch. He was clearly unfamiliar with humans.
Our long and arduous crossing of the wild
windswept highlands lent the experience
of finally reaching the canyon of the
Kogaluk and seeing the forested river far below, an emotional impact beyond what its
sheer beauty could have imparted. Even so, ironically descending to the shelter and
freedom of the river was one of the single greatest challenges of the trip; a steep 1,200-
foot drop into dense forest and a tangle of blow downs. We were unable to finish our last
load before dark and had to leave the canoe in the dense forest. The GPS was still not
working, so an exact location could not be determined so I took pains to note the terrain
and direction to camp so we could find it in the next day. In a reassuring testament to our
woodcraft, we walked right to it within 25 minutes early in the morning. Cole found
moose scat during the canoe recovery. Tony Jenkinson told us there were recent reports
of moose at the western end of Kamestastin last year, but in general, they haven’t been
known to inhabit this region. Guess that is changing.
The Kogaluk to the Labrador Sea; September 27 – 29
September 27 was arguably the most
wonderful day of the journey. After our long
ordeal of crossing the highlands, it warmed up
to pleasantly cool without a cloud in the sky;
we were on a beautiful river of crystal-clear
water flowing fast and free between forested
banks, carrying us effortlessly toward the sea
… with nothing on our backs. The emotional
contrast was as stark as the geophysical and
ecological ones. Even when we reached Cabot
Lake, the following west wind did not raise dangerously high waves and we covered the

10. potentially troublesome ten miles of open water without incident. After 30 miles, we
made camp at the east end of the lake on a beautiful beach with views east and west.
I had firsthand reports that the river below Cabot Lake flowed fast and steadily to the sea.
This seemed at odds with the indications from the topographic maps but I trusted the
firsthand report. In this case, unfortunately, the maps were right. Nonetheless, despite a
slow current and headwind, we reached the falls above the estuary in the late
afternoon/early evening of the 28th. Since it was cold and pouring rain, we made camp
upstream of the falls rather than attempt the portage late in the day.
Like the plunge from the Tundra
Highlands to the forested Kogaluk, this
magnificent pair of cataracts marks a
dramatic boundary between
ecosystems as the Kogaluk cascades
onto the quiet level of the estuary
immediately below the rapid that
followed the falls. We stopped to
admire and photograph the falls while
we were looking for a way to portage around them. The route close to the falls was steep
and at one point, a slip would carry an unfortunate paddler straight into a seething
cauldron. We looked for a better route on our return and found a ridge that provided a
level easy walk almost all the way. However, there was no practical or safe way to walk
or line on the right side (where we were) around the rapid below the falls and it was a big
R3-4; too risky for Cole and me to run with a single boat (Kalon could have managed it
well).
This is an example of an otherwise easy river that is not suitable for the inexperienced.
The end of the portage was at the edge of the pool below the last of the waterfall (to the
right of the photo above). The only practical options to running the rapid were to line
from or portage across the island in the upper middle of the photo (lining is using bow
and stern lines on the canoe to control the boat through the rapid from shore). For either,
it was necessary to cross the river to the upstream end of the island, between the roiling
hydraulics of the waterfall and the powerful start of the rapid. It required some skill and
confidence to execute the upstream ferry that had little room for error. We crossed and
lined down. With a final small drop below the main rapid at the narrow neck visible in

11. the photo, we entered the estuary of the Kogaluk. It is only a few miles long and we
paddled it without incident. We did see increasing numbers of waterfowl, though apart
from Common Golden-eyes, Mergansers, and Long-tailed Ducks, we were unable to ID
many. We reached the mouth of the river on Voisey Bay at about 3:30 pm and weighed
our options; it was 33 miles to Nain and I had been warned about Voisey Bay.
The Coast to Nain; September 29 – October 3
At this point, it was still theoretically possible to make the coast freighter, “Northern
Ranger”, which left Nain at 3:30 pm the next afternoon. The wind had been calm on the
estuary but there was an easterly breeze on the ocean. However, it seemed manageable
and the waves were modest. The crossing was the longest open water crossing of the trip,
with a minimum distance between points of land of two miles. Conditions could well be
worse tomorrow and the next day. We charged straight into the crossing of Voisey Bay.
As we got clear of the headland the breeze freshened, but still seemed within our
capabilities so we pressed on. However, the wind, now a quartering headwind started to
pile water up and we were soon dealing with periodic sets of steep 2 – 3 footers. I had to
angle up into the wind off our shortest course to stabilize the boat and keep a sharp eye
out for the big waves. When I saw them coming (visible as massed series of large
foaming whitecaps racing toward us), I had to steer further to windward and even more
off course to angle sharply into them. They would often bury the bow and if not for the
deck covers, we would have been in serious trouble. After they passed, I would steer off
the wind as much as I could to resume a more direct course to the island. We were riding
the seas fine but it was tense. The water was deadly cold and we could afford no mistakes
on boat angle or bracing when the big sets hit. As steersman, I couldn’t relax my
concentration. It was quite likely the most dangerous part of the trip. We made painfully
slow progress and as the passage wore on, our main threats became cold and fatigue. As
we neared the far shore, we must have hit an interference zone with a tidal current as we
encountered a nerve-wracking cross chop, but it was the crescendo before the end. After
only a couple hundred yards, we entered quieter water and with considerable relief, we
could finally relax.
We were both wet and spent after the crossing, so even though it was only 5pm we set
camp. If we could be on the water by 6 am and had perfect weather, it was still in theory
possible to make the remaining 28 miles to Nain in time. The odds were getting thin, but
the crossing of Voisey Bay had kept the possibility alive.
At 5:30 the next morning, September 30, the wind was dead calm. By 6:30 am, it was
blowing a near gale that collapsed the tent vestibule and the channel we would have been
in was foaming with wildly racing ranks of whitecaps. With that, and a sense of relief, all
chance of making Nain that afternoon vanished. Now we could relax a bit and enjoy the
coastal portion of the journey. Seeing how fast the seas could go from serene to deadly
and having survived the stressful crossing the day before, gave us a powerfully visceral
respect for how dangerous open crossings could be here; a lesson that was always upper
most in my mind as we paddled to Nain.

12. Later on, almost as if in reward for our sensible decision, we were granted a remarkable
wildlife encounter. The wind subsided later in the morning and by 11 am it was again,
dead calm. Early morning calms I know not to necessarily trust, however, we decided to
take advantage of this opportunity and get in some miles. We had finished packing when
we spotted a raptor scanning for prey several hundred yards away. Figuring it would fly
quickly and we would be back in no time, we slowly approached with our cameras. It was
a Gyrfalcon (I think a male by his size), drying out after the morning storm. To our
growing consternation and excited delight, he didn’t move. We kept coming closer and
closer and he would occasionally look at us and then go back to scanning the area. He
showed no sign of distress at our approach and we ended up within 10 feet of him on
each side of his rock. Utterly calm, he would look at one or the other of us and then go
back to scanning the surrounding area with no more concern than if we had been caribou.
Neither Cole nor I had ever had such an encounter with a Gyr in all the years we have
been observing, photographing and painting wildlife. He was still standing there when we
thanked him and returned to our gear and the boat (he flew off about 10 minutes later).
We continued under perfect conditions of wind and water (there was very low cloud
cover with some fog) accompanied by seals and seabirds. It was magical paddling with
storybook scenery of high rocky islands with their tops lost in cloud and the temperature
was even climbing. The water was crystal-clear with comb-jellies and several species of
jellyfish visible in the depths and sea urchins and starfish covering the bottom. Seals
found us fascinating and would porpoise along behind and under us. We were a bit
alarmed when in the middle of a mile wide crossing twenty or more seals erupted in
frenzied flight behind us. After drifting about trying to see what was going on and get
some photographs, thoughts of what might be chasing them urged us onward.
We were traveling WNW along the northshore of the mainland with Kikkatavik Island
across a mile wide channel to our right. The mainland was broken with frequent bays and
fjords making navigation in fog and cloud a bit dicey. Our original plan stuck to the
mainland though in order to cross the channel further west where it narrowed
dramatically before we headed back northward. This was to avoid the hazards of long
open water crossings. Taking advantage of the calm conditions and with a hint of a north
wind building, we parted from our planned route and dashed across the channel. The
south shore of Kikkatavik was straight (easier navigation in poor visibility), more
wooded (offering better campsites) had accessible freshwater and would provide shelter
if the north wind picked up the next day. Since we were in a low-pressure system
(counter clockwise rotation), a north wind would be normal as the system passed. It
would be much better to be in the lee of Kikkatavik than working across the open water
of the bays and fjords along the mainland’s northshore exposed to the wind as sticking to
our originally planned route would. Indeed, it saved us being totally wind bound.
Our camp was wonderful. A clear stream flowed into the sea with ripe blueberries in
profusion and fresh bear and moose tracks on the beach. Moose it turns out are new to the
area. This was the second time we found moose sign in areas where they were not known
until very recently.

13. Thursday morning was calm and we were up early. We could hear the wind, but true
enough, we were in the lee of the island. Even so, we caught some strong eddy currents
as we progressed along the shore and it curved NW and then N. We came across one bear
foraging along the shore, but he was obviously experienced with people, as he took off in
a hurry the moment he noticed us. I got some video of him but only of him running away.
As we came up to Tabor Island off the NW point of Kikkatavik in the late morning, we
looked out across the channel to Satosoak Island. The wind now hit us with its full force
out of the NE and we retreated to figure our next move. The channel looked passable, but
like our Voisey Bay experience (just shorter), so a big risk. Moreover, beyond Satosoak,
there was a long open crossing, that while broken by some small islands, was essentially
four miles wide. We needed to know if it would get better or worse in the coming days. I
decided to chance a satellite phone call to Bonnie who knew to have the weather forecast
for Nain. Our conversation was devoid of most pleasantries since she knew of our dire
battery situation. No sooner did she hear my hello than she gave me the basics which she
had memorized earlier that morning, “35+ km/hr NE wind with rain/snow today, Friday,
35+km/hr wind less chance of rain/snow, Saturday, warmer, winds under 10 km/hr
clearing skies, Sunday, winds under 10 km/hr, clear skies”. I thanked her, told her we
would stay put on Kikkatavik Island until Saturday and hung up.
Bear sign on Kikkatavik is incredible. It is like a cow pasture but with bear droppings;
you literally can hardly walk without having to avoid large piles. Much of it was
reasonably fresh and wherever we went on Kikkatavik, we saw bear sign. There would
seem to be a considerable number of bears on the island. It is a very large island with a
variegated topography and many interesting features; worth a return visit I think.
It did indeed rain, snow and blow all the rest of the day and the next. We didn’t do much
Friday due to the weather and general fatigue though we had a luxurious breakfast of
pancakes and wild berries. I did some sketching from our cooking tarp but it was too cold
to accomplish much. We found out later that there is reportedly a lone Musk Ox bull on
Tabor Island, though we didn’t know to go look for him or we would have. The peak of
the day was at dinner. We were just sitting down to eat when a whale spouted right
behind us just off shore. We photographed it as it proceeded down the channel. It was a
Minke Whale and the first of several we saw and the only mammal other than bears and
seals that we saw on the coast.
Saturday dawned as the forecast predicted and we packed. The north, northeast shore of
Kikkatavik is a dramatic and fascinating sight, reaffirming my opinion that it would be a
worthy destination on a further exploration of this coastal archipelago. We saw our first
boats and Common Murres as we cleared the eastern end of Satosoak and headed due
north for the open water crossing to Kauk Bluff Island and the entrance to Nain Bay.
While we could have waited outside Nain at a campsite for another day or two, I was
concerned about the weather. Even though we had four days until the boat was due to
leave again and Sunday was predicted to be fine weather, Friendship Bay in which Nain

14. is located, is totally open to north, east and northeast wind. I did not want to get pinned
on the coast around the point and watch the Northern Ranger sail south without us.
Therefore, we decided to get in while the getting was good. A Minke Whale greeted us as
we approached the pier and then came up again behind us as we paddled into the small
boat landing. We ground to shore
and our long paddle trip was
complete. We weren’t home yet
though.
Nain; October 3 - 7
Henry Webb, who owns and operates
a Cape May “Longliner” vessel for
researchers, tourists, residents and
hunters along the coast, greeted us at
the small boat ramp. Henry put our gear under lock and key (important in Nain), took us
to the hotel run by his sister and later put us up in his bunkhouse (the hotel was expensive
so we only stayed there for two nights).
We put our time to good use in Nain, meeting local Inuit artists, the members of the fly-in
Circuit Court and the local RCMP officers. I also adopted a stray puppy (many dogs run
wild and have a hard short life in Nain). These contacts will be very useful for any further
expeditions on the Labrador coast. The artists in particular will add a long sought native
element to WREAF’s artist membership. According to locals, wolverines have been
sighted recently and there were six polar bears on a nearby island waiting for freeze up.
Northern Ranger; October 7 – 9
We boarded the Northern Ranger Wednesday afternoon for an uneventful cruise back to
Goose Bay. The vessel is a small freighter and not set up for tourists. It does have
comfortable cabins of four berths each. Price varies with amenities and deck. We took the
lowest. It takes almost exactly two days and Dramamine is recommended for those who
may be subject to seasickness; the voyage is on open ocean and our second night was
rough.
The Drive Goose Bay – Montreal; October 10 - 12
Upon our arrival in Goose Bay October 9, Tony Jenkinson met us and drove Cole to the
truck. By the time we had everything loaded it was evening and far too late to start the
300 mile drive to Labrador City, so we had dinner to discuss the journey and upcoming
work at Kamestastin (where Tony, his funding finally in, was heading to in the morning).
We stayed at Hotel North as we did last year and set out for Lab City in the morning.

15. While driving some of the interminable construction on the Lab Highway, Cole’s truck
suffered a severe tearing puncture of the right rear tire on sharp rock fill. We changed the
tire and continued toward Lab City.
We stayed outside Lab City with Neil Simmons at his camp where he was for the
weekend. Neil’s hospitality had already been of great assistance to the expedition. A
contact through Tony Jenkinson, Neil had been enlisted to assist Cole with getting to
Emeril Junction on his way in to join the trip. As it turned out, on his way up, Cole’s
truck broke down at the traffic light in Labrador City. A connecting rod gave out; quite
possibly from the excessive wear of its second journey on the Trans-Labrador Highway
(Cole’s truck was one of our two vehicles for the Kamestastin expedition last year). Neil
helped Cole get to a shop, put him up for the night and drove him out to Emeril the next
day. He then assisted Rod and Kalon on their way out, updating them on the cautions
necessary with the now injured truck (they drove Cole’s truck to Goose Bay and swapped
it for Rod’s which Tony had driven there in anticipation of everyone finishing the trip).
Neil put us up and treated us to an enormous dinner with family and friends. They tried
fixing the flat in the morning, but being a Sunday, we had no chance of a professional job
and the hole was large and jagged. We kept the full size spare on and hoped for the best.
Cole and I drove straight through to Pointe Claire, arriving at 7:30 am on Canadian
Thanksgiving Day. We had Thanksgiving dinner with Bonnie and with that considered
the expedition officially and successfully complete.
Conclusions
1. Our recon revealed that the De Pas is not a river for beginners. A crew with Innu
students could run this river only if the students were experienced in basic
canoeing technique and disciplined in following advice and instructions. The
safety consequences of trying to run some of these rapids without sufficient skill
could be severe for paddlers or equipment. This will take some discussion with
Tony and Stephen. We should consider shortening the canoe section to start at the
George River
2. The two planned aspects of this year’s expedition that were not completed this
year may provide a means of building on this expedition and seamlessly
contribute to the larger idea of the story whether the entire route is paddled or not.
Our canoe crew did not portage from the George River to Lac Mistinibi and Dr.
Loring was unable to start any archaeological work on Lac Mistinibi; a potentially
significant area for Innu hunters in the near and/or distant past. Having the main
crew start at the confluence of the De Pas and George rivers next year would
allow us to concentrate fully on these key features in traditional caribou-based
Innu culture and have the time to work with Dr. Loring before continuing on to
Lake Kamestastin to intercept the autumn caribou migration. For Innu students to
help work out a portage route from the George to Mistinibi and onward to
Kamestastin, would be a connection with the Innu who used this region for
thousands of years; and even more so if we find any evidence historic routes.

16. 3. The utter isolation of the trackless wilderness on the Tundra Highlands created a
profound sense of deep time; a direct connection with our ancient Earth; ever
changing, yet unaffected by humans (at least not in any easily apparent way). I
can only imagine the effect traveling in this region would have if this were the
land of my ancestors.
4. The Labrador archipelago would be an ideal location for a sea-kayak/covered
canoe expedition in July or early August; both the sea and island habitats are
fascinating. Using the coast boat and Henry Webb’s boat as a support vessel, we
could explore a good section of the coast via a series of base camps with no
aircraft expenses. We have local logistical support and highly talented local Inuit
artists interested in joining such an expedition crew.
5. Kalon’s departure from the expedition did involve some friction. However, all
concerned have exercised such diplomatic skills as we have to overcome it and to
work together on making the most of this expedition now that it is complete.
6. Rod’s departure from the expedition was not optional. In fact, while not an acute
emergency, we needed to get him out as soon as practible. He is now, even with
the best medical care, losing a part of his toe. His evacuation did entail extra
flight, train and truck expenses that went well beyond our $1,000 “contingency
fund”. I am trying to have some of the direct expenses for Rod’s evacuation
covered by the putative “Evacuation Insurance” we have through our SPOT GPS
locator, but as of now our expedition is in the hole and I have had to make up the
shortfalls.
7. Private vehicles are problematic for the reasons discussed above and for reasons
of wear and tear, (Cole lost a tire, a windshield and probably a tie rod and
possibly his U-joints as direct results of this trip and last year’s). All of these
problems would be lessened if WREAF had its own vehicle. I have approached
both Subaru USA and Land Rover in Canada and had keen interest from both
companies re supporting the expeditions with vehicles. However, in the current
economic climate, motor vehicle companies are among the hardest hit, so those
efforts are at a standstill for now. Another option that came to my attention a
week ago is a company in Johnstown, NY that sells used school buses. A school
bus could take an entire crew and boats in one vehicle (saving considerable
money) and with their high ground clearance they could handle roads like the
Trans-Labrador easily. Designated drivers would ensure safe vehicle operation.
Outcomes
1. Photos, video and notes for details that will expand when viewers who are
exploring the site click on existing points on the web journal map locations; link
to all participants
2. Different people learn in different ways and to accommodate the less proactive,
something similar to the above but presented as a complete ‘click and watch’

17. story of the trip in maps, videos, photos with voiceover narrative of the trip and
information
3. Magazine articles; Canadian Wildlife Magazine, Canadian Geographic, National
Wildlife (US), Paddler (US), CanoeRoots, Audubon…
4. Museum exhibitions in Canada and US; Bennington Center for the Arts can assist
with organization, shipping, and fabrication; NMNH with content. An exhibition
focused on this last trip would be particularly appropriate for Rivers to Oceans
5. 2010 expeditions; April/May - spring caribou migration base camp at
Kamestastin; Sept/Oct - canoe journey from the George River (some of us may
run the De Pas or other new access like the upper George from Smallwood Res)
to Kamestastin and then an a base camp for the autumn migration (will invite
some high end artists if we can confirm in time). I have several people interested
in being there later for the bird migration in May/June if we can arrange the
details and funding. No census has ever been taken of this remarkable area. Not
only is it a wildlife magnet for caribou on migration, but also for hundreds of
thousands of birds. Harlequin Ducks, otherwise rare in the area, are common
nesters at Kamestastin.
6. School and group presentations; I have already met with officials of the Lester
Pearson School Board in Montreal’s West Island and we are discussing details of
presentations for their schools; the Hulbert Outdoor Center has asked me to
present to the Wilderness Paddlers Association annual meeting in March and I
have presentations being scheduled in Connecticut.
7. The 2010 expeditions will help with the development of our overall goal; the final
agreement to install “Visions of the Boreal Forest” at the NMNH on the
Washington Mall in DC.
New Contacts
John Terriak, internationally known sculptor and carver and painter, Nain
Harry Semigak, internationally known carver, Nain
Wilson Semigak, talented up and comer, Nain
Toby Kojak, Nain
Henry Webb, boat owner/operator, Nain
Officer Jason Lush, RCMP, Nain
The Honourable John Joy, Judge, Circuit Judge, Goose Bay (his brother Robert plays
the forensic pathologist on “CSI NY”)
Ricky Drudge, hunting guide, Old Fort Bay QC
Neil Simmons, Railroad electrician, Labrador City