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The Secrets of Crab Lake

Photo: Scott MacGregor
The Secrets of Crab Lake

Noel’s requests were quite demanding for his son’s first canoe trip. He wanted a quick and easy route only a couple of hours drive from his home near Toronto; maybe a short portage so five-year-old Walker could experience, for a brief moment, what it felt to shoulder all your belongings on your back; and a choice campsite set on a remote lake that happens to be populated by monster-sized bass. Noel has been on a number of trips with me before and I knew he wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear that such a perfect trip didn’t exist. But it did. A place called Crab Lake. And it’s a gem I couldn’t wait to share with him and Walker.

Crab Lake is reached by Wolf Lake a left turn off Highway 28, north of Peterborough but just south of Apsley, Ontario. Wolf Lake is a perfect destination on its own. Only a few cottages crowd the lake, mostly along the south shore, and a strip of Crown land along the north shore, as well as a number of small islands to the west, provide some excellent campsite possibilities. 

Crab Lake is much more isolated and is easily reached by way of a short 107 meter portage located at the far end of Wolf Lake’s southwest bay. Getting to Crab Lake seemed like a relatively easy process, but with the last road not being marked we found ourselves lost. Our group missed the turn for Wolf Lake twice and even somehow managed to begin paddling across a totally different lake for half-an-hour before we resorted to asking a local cottager to steer us in the right direction.

BEGINNER’S LUCK

Crab Lake has five main bays that head off in all directions and is much larger than it first appears. Each inlet also has one or two prime campsites, complete with an exposed chunk of granite to catch a breeze and escape the bugs and a snug canopy of pine, maple and birch to pitch a tent under. Our group chose an out-of-the way spot directly below where a rough trail heads up to the top of Blueberry Mountain—an exposed hill that’s literally covered in thick blueberry bushes. On any other trip the blueberries could have been the highlight but this trip was all about the fishing. After quickly setting up camp, we headed out in the canoe again in search of the lake’s monster bass.

We cast our lines out the moment we entered the first weedy bay; Noel and I with our fancy plugs and spinners, and Walker with his half-dead worm stuck on a bear hook. It was my idea to give Walker the defunct bait, thinking the lake’s healthy population of sunfish would keep him occupied for at least long enough for Noel and me to catch some decent-sized bass for supper. Of course in no time at all Walker had caught three bass, averaging around four pounds each. Noel and I hadn’t received a single bite. Quickly we switched to the decomposing worms and, in exchange, allowed Walker full rein on our lure boxes. Ten minutes later Walker had caught two more trophy bass—one on my scent-impregnated rubber frog and the other on Noel’s pink-coloured Holla-Popper. Noel and I remained fishless.

I doubt Crab Lake has ever given up so many fish. In fact, Noel and I were quite mystified by Walker’s success and had to blame it on beginners’ luck to settle our egos. Walker, on the other hand, had a different reason for catching so many lunkers. Each time he lowered his line into the water the intrepid angler would whisper the secret code, “Here fishy, fishy, fishy.” Walker insisted that without saying this magical phrase, no fish would ever bite a hook. So, whether we agreed to play along for the fun of it, or that we just became completely desperate to catch fish, both Noel and I tossed out our lines and repeated the expression,“Here fishy, fishy, fishy.”

Thinking back, the trip to Crab Lake wasn’t a complete success according to Noel’s set criteria. The route was actually a two-and-a- half hour drive from his home near Toronto;Walker only carried his personal pack halfway along the portage before handing it over to his father; and Noel and I never did catch a trophy bass. Crab Lake did manage to fulfill his main objective though—Walker can’t wait until next years trip. And according to Noel, a father can’t ask for anything more perfect than that.

Kevin Callan is the author of numerous guidebooks for canoeists, including the bestseller Cottage Country Canoe Routes. The Crab Lake route, along with a number of other great weekend getaways in the Kawarthas, is included in his latest book Gone Canoeing: Weekend Wilderness Adventures in Southern Ontario. Callan’s newest book project Ontario’s Lost Canoe Routes is scheduled to be released this Spring. 

This article on Crab Lake was published in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots.This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

Algonquin Park: Where It All Began

person solo portages a red canoe through the fall forest of Algonquin Park
Algonquin Park: Where it all began | Feature photo: Don Standfield

Algonquin Park. Just the name conjures up images and emotions that resonate deep within the soul of many thousands, maybe millions, of Canadians. The impact may be most apparent in our response to the howl of a timber wolf on a moonlit night. But not everyone understands the language this landscape speaks, only because they haven’t been there, and it’s not obvious from afar. Algonquin is not a place of spectacular scenery, with towering mountains or cascading waterfalls, forbidding coastlines or endless vistas— “What is it about Algonquin?” asks an outsider. The question very nearly defies response.

Algonquin Park: Where it all began

On a bright, crisp autumn day, with my vintage 1928 Peterborough cedar-canvas 15-footer on my shoulders—the old way, with two paddles lashed down to the centre thwart to bear the weight—I wend my way along the forest path, stepping blithely on fallen leaves that have laid out a thick carpet of crimson, gold, orange, scarlet, damson and butter yellow on what was once an Aboriginal portage. The sun’s rays penetrate through the upper canopy and down to the forest floor for the first time in months, and a thick, rich aroma of the deep woods rises to my nostrils. I move slowly, all my senses overactive.

For me, the portage here is part of the pleasure; it’s not like trips on some of the far north’s wild rivers, where a carry around an unshootable set of rapids seems a nuisance and a chore, often a heavy toil, little more than a delay before getting back into the current. Walking through these woods is a vital part of understanding Algonquin.

An intergenerational relationship with the park

Canoeing Algonquin takes me back to my roots. As a young lad growing up in Toronto in the 1950s and 1960s, we went north in the summer. I think my parents took me to Algonquin for the first time when I was only two. Though I don’t actually remember it, I went for my first ride in a canoe on one of Algonquin’s lakes.

My mother knew them well; she had paddled here as a young girl in the 1930s. As did my grandfather—the original owner of my treasured old Peterborough—before her. It’s like that for a lot of my generation in Ontario. So when we began to take canoe trips of our own, it was only natural to go to The Park as we called it, for in our minds there was none equal. Algonquin, for us, was the beginning of an important part of our lives.

person solo portages a red canoe through the fall forest of Algonquin Park
Algonquin Park: Where it all began | Feature photo: Don Standfield

In the decades since, I have been to Algonquin countless times, not unlike most Ontario paddlers. It is our collective favorite, though for each of us it offers something different. The Petawawa River has its devotees, including George Drought, who knows it well enough to have written a guidebook. His praise is unequivocal: “For beauty and quality of rapids, the Petawawa outshines everything else in Ontario.”

For others, it is the traditional routes that loop north from the Highway 60 corridor: Canoe Lake, Big Trout, the Otterslides, Opeongo, all the oh-so-familiar names. There are 2,500 lakes in all, with 1,600 kilometres of canoe routes and 3,000 prepared campsites.

You don’t have to work hard or travel far in order for Algonquin to bestow its gifts. It was Pierre Trudeau who wrote: “Travel a thousand miles by train and you are a brute; pedal five hundred on a bicycle and you remain basically a bourgeois; paddle a hundred in a canoe and you are already a child of nature.”

In Algonquin, you don’t even need to go that far. That’s why it remains the smaller, less-travelled lakes that draw me back. That’s where I find peace. That’s where I see an old-growth white pine so large it takes four of us to link hands around its girth. That’s where I feel the bond to wild places that stirs deep within us all.

At home in Algonquin

For those who know it, the park provides that primeval connection. It is a steady, reliable friend—a place that is always there waiting for your next visit, a place that never disappoints. Ralph Bice, in his nineties, the last of the park’s old-time guides and trappers, summed it up nicely: “Anyone who knows Algonquin Park will be disappointed when they get to heaven.”

With thoughts like that in mind I reach the end of the portage through the autumnal forest, swing the canoe gently down from my shoulders to straddle the border between water and land, and stand there in the refreshingly cool air coming off the lake, taking in the view. It is a tiny, picturesque lake—like a painting by Lawren Harris—with only one campsite, on a rocky point, and it looks empty. I’ll be alone, as I’d hoped. An unseen loon’s tremulous call adds his welcome from across the way. I feel at home…in Algonquin…where it all began.

This is an excerpt from a longer story by David Pelly in Paddle Quest, published by Boston Mills Press. Pelly is also the author of Thelon: A River Sanctuary, a biography of a northern wilderness, and most recently Sacred Hunt: A Portrait of the Relationship between Seals and Inuit, published by Douglas & McIntyre/Greystone. 

This article on Algonquin Park was published in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots.This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots MagazineSubscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.

 

Travelling the Bloodvein River

Photo: Rick Matthews
Travelling the Bloodvein River

When our four canoes carved into a Bloodvien eddy we were met by a wall of mirrors. Ten days into a three-week river trip, the eddy shore was alive with young women in well-beaten canoes. All sixteen of them stared at us, silently for a moment, as if we were creatures from Mars. And we stared back at their ancient gear, their wooden wanigan box nearly a metre high, battered wooden paddles that had pushed off a thousand rocks and clothes that seemed to have tripped several summers since their last ride in a washing machine. Then one of them softly said,“Oh, oh, oh, look at their canoes!” To them, spacecraft had landed. That was the moment that we saw ourselves mirrored so clearly in their eyes.

Our boats and our gear were as new as theirs were old. Our yellow and red canoes were packed tightly with food barrels and vinyl dry bags, hard cased camera boxes and bright lining ropes. We were strapped into whitewater outfitting, carried composite paddles and we all wore helmets. Our women were hard edged and tough and had lines even when they weren’t smiling.

THE PERFECT RIVER CHOICE

The idea was to paddle up and out of one watershed and down into another, as I recall. The Bloodvien River seemed perfect, rising in the open mossy parkland of Woodland Caribou Provincial Park and whitewater pool and dropping its way to Lake Winnipeg. Enticing six whitewater playboaters into this adventure was child’s play. No one even blinked at the mother of all car shuttles.The 725 kilometres, required chartering a Beaver on floats to bring the drivers back to the group, and demanded about three weeks of pulling a canoe past a paddle. 

Upstream is a dirty word to most river paddlers. Tracking, wading, pulling and bug swatting up airless narrow creeks has a very narrow following and you never meet strangers. So our happy crew left Red Lake, crawled its way up Chinkuni Creek and in three days, crossed the height of land into the Arctic watershed. Not being in the least superstitious, we paused here for a tobacco ceremony for a moment and begged for the good graces of the spirit guardians of the land, the rocks and the rivers. No one scoffed as the tobacco fell to the water, it was so quiet you could hear your heart beat.

Usually downstream is better, but for us, the next few days felt just the same—wading, pulling, swatting, sweating and never a sign of another human being. The country felt untouched, except by fire. Large areas had been burned in various recent times, but the land regenerated with a ferocious intensity.The new forest grew back like a solid stockade of green along the bank.

Gradually, hour by hour, the river grew under us, often opening into lakes, then closing in again. Just before the Manitoba border, the river opened into Artery Lake, the site of perhaps the most famous pictographs in Ontario. Painted on an outward sloping rock face, a red ocher bison with a throbbing heart ran at eye level, fish swam, men and animals lived, and canoes with a dozen paddlers froze time and lowered our voices to whispers. It was cool in the shadows, like entering a church on a summer’s day. The drawings commanded our reverence.

CONSTANT JUDGEMENT

Woodland Caribou Park is joined by Manitoba’s Atikaki Provincial Wilderness Area at the border, and it is here that the river begins its serious whitewater, narrowing again and again to little more than the width of a canoe and always running in an ancient granite channel dressed and stained with lichen. For these are the oldest rocks in the world; they were here long before the river and have watched time go by for 2.6 billion Januarys. Following the faults and fissures of the Canadian Shield, the river makes countless right angle turns, widening and constricting, always changing and full of surprises.

We ran throw bag safety for each other, carefully scouting each set as individual teams. This was a low water July trip, with careful technical paddling and bow paddlers who were always wet from being the first over the sharp drops, and into the pools below.

The Bloodvien, with its more than eighty sets of rapids, imposed the need for constant judgement. Our days were filled with the concerns of canoe performance and water reading, the endless search for the perfect line and whether to run, line or portage.The knowledge, opinion and wisdom of companions built a team and formed a bond.

It seemed to be a river of eagles, for we were rarely out of sight of a bald eagle at any time, and they were there for the fish. After setting camp, we would paddle the designated fisherman out to the boiling eddy line. There he would make a cast, hook a fish generally a bit too big for eight, and then be paddled back to shore, the fishing complete for the evening. Simmered, not boiled, for three minutes in a vegetable stew, the fish was always served with a glass of Merlot from a bottomless box, making a day on this wild and generous river complete.

It is unusual to meet other paddlers on remote rivers; all of us move in the same linear experience at close to the same speed. But the sixteen bright-eyed girls were travelling against the current, a day ahead of their instructors, so they said. This was their forth and last year together as a group of camp kids, now near grown to adults, almost on their own and fired with their sense of freedom and independence. After they had completely devoured our gear with their eyes and filled the canyon with laughter, they paddled away with their sixteen year old map reader sitting high on her wanigan, her blond pony-tail waving as she talked. Would they, we wondered, carry away with them into their grown-up lives our pressing need to travel rivers, to take the path less traveled, to live outside where the water moves and dances? Did they look far, far ahead, and see themselves in us? 

Brian Shields is currently pursuing a career in retirement. When not resurrecting battered boats, he can be found playing on any whitewater river that will have him. 

This article on the Bloodvien River was published in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots.This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

A Canoe Season

Photo: Toni Harting
A Canoe Season

Not having raced that hull for years, I wondered about the choice. The Jensen is a tad slower than the new Killing design I usually paddled. But it was also virtually identical to the hull used by the competitor next to me on the line, the year’s rookie in our master’s class. He was a lot younger, probably stronger … but maybe not faster. I wanted to race him on even terms.

I like Jensens. It is satisfying to paddle a classic modern hull, designed by the man who invented the category. Years ago, I moved the thwart back on mine to mount a seat amidships. I riv- eted in some aluminum angle for foot braces and, voila, my first solo canoe.

There were twelve hulls at the start. I aligned my bow with the first turning marker about one kilometre out. Good paddlers on either side, we kept our distance, feathering and bracing to hold our positions in the seconds counting down to the start.

THE AFTERGLOW OF TECHNICAL ADVANCES

I paddle in two of the most beautiful places in the world … in the waters beneath the mountains up Indian Arm just east of Vancouver, British Columbia and, once summer comes, in the islands on the east shore of Georgian Bay, Ontario.

I also paddle in the afterglow of huge technical advances in canoeing. Long, skinny, low profile canoes with straight keel lines to track like arrows and made of tough, light materials …. with adjustable seats and foot braces mounted amidships for soloing as well as in the stern and bow… vastly more efficient bent shaft paddles …. and the sit and switch technique, much more speed with much less effort.

FINDING THE PERFECT STROKE

Early each season, it feels like I have lead in my arms and sedative in my veins. I fight the paddle. I have to fool with my seat and foot brace to get the hull properly trimmed again. I have to move my torso around until it settles into the angle that will be comfortable for the rest of the season.

My stroke was laboured, … come on stroke, where are you? Just because I have spent a winter skiing doesn’t mean I have abandoned you forever. Repeat. Persevere through clumsiness until muscle memory kicks in and suddenly it is back.

As the season builds, I move constantly between the nature around me and an interior dialogue, watching my own technique, observing what works, what is getting better and what is not. Every hour or so, I pause and drink some water, eat something, look up at the mountains to the snow which stays well into the season. Later, when I am east, I float deep in the lees of the Georgian Bay archi- pelago, watching the charcoal, white necklaced loons who live in this bay as they raise the next generation just like I am doing with my children.

Eugene Jensen spends his life trying to build the perfect canoe. I spend a lot of mine trying to find the perfect stroke.

The perfect stroke—that elusive moment when you are in the perfect trim in the perfect canoe, when your hours of meditative paddling now allow you to divide a 1.2 second stroke into a hun- dred intervals and know exactly what you have to do in each one to be able to deliver maximum power in the instant when physics and geometry can deliver maximum efficiency—and you are suddenly in that moment, turning on the afterburner in a final shot of accelerating effort. You have made the canoe go as fast as it can. And then the canoe takes over, holding onto the speed you have given it in a long glide, a victory of inertia over friction thanks to the great designer who thought out your hull—and it waits for you to do it again.

The search is the reward. I have paddled the same routes all my life and they continue to give me something fresh each time out. A still, early summer rain shining the rocks and bringing out their colour as the lichen swells and softens, later, the first cardinal flow- ers telling me the summer is ending, crimson strokes painted along the ends of tough, thin green stalks late in the season. The search reintroduces me to my rhythms and gives the partnership of two good paddlers, the quiet pieces of shore on which you rest, the perfect union of form and function in those quick and beautiful hulls.

STRENGTH VS TECHNIQUE

If I had lost the race, the winner would have paddled well. I didn’t lose. I was ahead from the start and increased my lead the whole race. Two kilometres later, I finished fifty yards in front. The new guy is second. Two hours later, my brother and I won the doubles race in the same hull. He is all strength, I am all technique. We had the canoe humming early and we left good wake the whole race.

The new guy beat me in the sprints a week later. I was quicker off the line but he gained speed and I couldn’t hold mine. He beat me by almost a length. He and his partner did it again in the pairs. His sprint technique was better. Next year mine will be too … and I look forward to it.

Ted Cape is a 51 year old paddler for whom the sport was reborn when he discovered the modern canoes designed by pioneers such as Eugene Jensen and their successors. Over the years, he has accumulated 6 of these canoes. For him paddling has become athletic as well as aesthetic and for this he thanks the designers whose creativity, thoughtfulness and willingness to depart from tradition have produced these beautiful hulls. 

This article on canoeing was published in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots.This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

Listening for Creative Silence

Photo: Don Standfield
Listening for Creative Silence

Creative Silence [refers to] the impact of solitude on the mind, the wakening of ideas and thoughts normally hidden…[and] the emergence of concepts often lost owing to interruptions and responsibilities. During such times one drinks from the deep wells of the past. – Sigurd Olson 

Solo canoeing is as much about exploring ourselevs as it is about paddling technique and hull designs. The amount of skill and concentration required to handle a solo canoe is significant and, by providing a focus for the mind and emotions, it can leave us with a sense of solace and inner peace. Though often associated with remote wilderness sojourns, this sense of solitude, and what Sigurd Olson aptly called creative silence, can be found almost anywhere in a solo canoe.

Using language to describe the solitude of solo canoeing is a bit like trying to portray ice cream through dance;only those who have experienced it before will understand. The same difficulty arises when trying to show people what solitude is by taking them there, as so much of it comes from within.

THE SEARCH FOR SOLITUDE

Much like the notion of wilderness, solitude is something projected onto the natural world that originates on the internal landscape of the mind. For example, it was through this process that the early European explorers and settlers labeled much of Canada as wilderness, when, to the First Nations living there at the time, it was clearly their home. Solo paddling allows us to locate solitude within ourselves, as it enables us to plot a route back to it time and again, each time with greater ease and precision. As a result, the path to creative silence, with practice, can become so familiar that one is capable of finding the way there even when surrounded by a group of other paddlers.

In the Zen tradition, there is a meditative ritual known as Sessin, where a group of people congregate together, but meditate individually. This is also true of the solo paddler’s search for solitude. It is rooted in the belief that one can find a quiet meditative state while continuing to embrace the company of others. By finding that famil- iar route toward the internal landscape of the mind, the canoe can act as a vehicle for going inside toward the realm of creative silence, regardless of external distractions and circumstances.

This inward journey seems to foster a sense of focus, and can free the mind from extraneous thoughts so as to contemplate one’s surrounding and to concentrate on the task at hand. This is important when manoeuvring a solo canoe, as it demands a synergy between paddler and canoe that is unmatched anywhere else. In its most refined form, the solo experience is a dance between paddler and the natural world mediated only by the canoe, to a point where the three become one, and the distinction between subject and object is erased. Pauline Johnson, who grew up in the late 1800s near Ontario’s Grand River captures the sentiment in her poem, The Song My Paddle Sings

August is laughing across the sky,
Laughing while my paddle, canoe and I
Drift, drift
Where the hills uplift
On either side of the current swift.

The river rolls in its rocky bed;
My paddle is plying its way ahead;
Dip, dip
While the waters flip
In foam as over their breast we slip.

And up on the hills against the sky
A fir tree rocking its lullaby
Swings, swings
It’s emerald wings
Swelling the song that my paddle sings. 

On both lake and river, the manifestation of such poetry can be seen in the movements of experienced solo canoeists. From the grace and precision of each paddle stroke to the fluid efficiency of their body language, they make the relationship with the canoe seem somehow enchanted, or even spiritual.

ILLUSIVE SOLITUDE

Through these graceful movements, practiced skills, unwavering focus, and quiet introspection, the rejuvenating energy of solitude can seem to wash over us, but only if we let it. Creative silence, too, can only be heard by carefully listening. It can all be quite illusive, as often our thoughts and senses are dammed with distractions, daily rituals and responsibilities. To listen effectively requires the attention of both body and being, constantly delving deeper into a contemplative state, all the while honing our paddling skills through consistent practice.

Regardless of the level of our solo paddling skills, the important thing is to practice regularly, and always listen for that creative silence. The creative silence is the call that connects us to our natural and cultural heritage. In so doing, we not only become more closely linked with the world around us—thereby becoming its stewards—but we also gain a new depth of appreciation and under- standing of ourselves, and of other people.

When he’s not out paddling with friends, Bryan Poirier coordinates education programs at the Canadian Canoe Museum and teaches solo canoeing as an ORCA canoeing instructor.

This article on solo canoeing was published in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots.This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Pamlico by Wilderness Systems

Photo: Wilderness Systems
Boat Review: The Pamlico by Wilderness Systems

The more we play around in recreational kayaks the more we realize why they have such appeal and are leading the industry in sales. The Pamlico from Wilderness Systems is a classic example of a boat that is easy to paddle and offers the versatility necessary to fit the needs of many different paddlers. We put a number of people in the boat and answered no questions. They just sat down and paddled away. When they realized the wind was picking up they engaged the rudder – it’s no wonder we humans invented the wheel.

The Pamlico is not a new boat in Wilderness Systems recreational kayak lineup but this year the addition of their Phase-3 outfitting greatly increases its appeal. If you haven’t had a chance to see this seat, its worth a trip to your local dealer to check it out. With drawstrings, toggles and ladder lock buckles Wilderness Systems has created a seat that is truly multi-adjustable. The seatback tilt forward and back and can be raised and lowered. You can also raise the front of the seat under your thighs to support your legs. There is really nothing like it on the market, and we were pleased, and a little surprised, that it found its way into the Pamlico.

Like previous version the Pamlico converts from a tandem to a solo kayak. The conversion process takes less than a minute after a few tries (we timed it). With the stern seat in the rear most position the bow seat slides back on the centre tube into the centre of the cockpit. Remove the rudder pedals from the rear position and slide them into the empty rails now ahead of the bow seat and connect them to the rudder with the included extension straps. This is really a nice feature, just imagine the possibilities.

Rigged as a tandem the Pamlico leaves very little legroom for taller paddlers in the stern and the two paddlers need to be in tune with one another because they are seated rather closely. With two average sized adult paddlers we were still within the recommended capacity but felt heavy and low in the water in the Pamlico. As a solo boat with gear for the day it rides just fine. So, for more solo and some tandem paddling go with the Pamlico, and if you are more often paddling with two people consider the Pamlico Exel offering the same features in a boat that is longer, wider, has a larger cockpit and twenty-five percent more carrying capacity.

With two paddlers on board there is still room in the stern and bow for some gear storage and the bungee straps on the deck are great for odds and ends. In the Pamlico you won’t get left behind on paddling club weekend day trips. It measures in at 14’6” and is surprisingly fast, tracks decently, and like most recreational kayaks is very stable making paddling accessible to everyone.

Specs

Length: 14 ft 6 in
Width: 29.25 in
Weight: 70 lbs
Cockpit: 6’10” x 19.75”
SRP: Polyethylene w/rudder $1425 CAD

This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Pakesso by Boreal Design

Photo: Boreal Design
Boat Review: The Pakesso by Boreal Design

In a time when more and more women are entering the world of kayak touring it is nice to see companies like boreal Design stepping up and producing smaller and still fully capable touring boats. At 14’6” long and 22.5” wide the Pakesso is a smaller and lighter kayak that women and small paddlers can actually control and carry, increasing both confidence and their overall kayaking experience. And with front and rear storage compartments having the volume exceeding that of many full-sized touring boats the Pakesso is not limited to weekend trips.

Boreal has put plenty of thought into the finishing touches of the Pakesso. The hatch covers fit flush with the deck and are sealed tightly with rubber gaskets and the new boreal Hatch closure system. Simply loop the rope to the tab and the buckle cams and snaps shut over the hatch cover, the excess webbing fastens with Velcro to keep it out of the way and acts as a backup. The buckle cams are easy on cold fingers and complete free the hatch opening from criss-cross webbing and straps for easy access. We also liked the moulded depression in front of the cockpit rim allowing you to get your skirt on more easily and offering a place to rest your paddle when taking a break.

The flat back deck and upswept style of the Pakesso is most often available with a skeg. The fact of the matter is, an internal drop down skeg takes up valuable space in the stern hatch. Instead of incorporating the alternative standard style top mounted rudder, Boreal created a new low profile rudder also found on their plastic Ookpik. The rudder is mounted at the rear of the boat just above the water line. The in-water surface area of the new rudder I comparable to other touring boats but because it is mounted so low and without a large pulley mechanism there is less surface area exposed to wind. Its easily deployed and the pedals operate with a silky smooth feeling. The pedals are easily adjusted with sliders on straps of webbing that are accessible at the knee so you can adjust on the fly and not have to extricate yourself from the boat to move the foot pegs.

The Pakesso has a semi-hard chine and a long waterline for such a small boat. This combination creates a boat that zips along with nimble primary stability and reasonable tracking when paddling flat and straight. We’ve come to realize that no matter a paddler’s skill level, confidence is directly related to how much they feel they are one with the boat. The Pakesso is a nice narrow fit for smaller paddlers making it easy for them to tilt it on edge where it can be held with confidence. Tilted on edge the Pakesso is a turning machine, and carves an outside tilt turn radius of just over its length. Add the Pakesso’s comfortable seat and thigh braces parked in the right spot for shorter legs and you have a fun and functional touring boat for smaller paddlers; paddlers who are used to having to work much harder to get full-sized boats to perform.

Specs

Length: 14 ft 6 in
Width: 22.5 in
Weight: 45 lbs without rudder
Cockpit: 16×30 in
Front hatch: 10.5×10.5 in, 71 litres
Rear hatch: 15×10.7 in, 110 litres
Total volume: 391 litres
SRP: $2200 CAD w/o rudder, $2475 CAD w/rudder

This article first appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Dagger’s GT Kayak: Whitewater Kayak Review

Scott MacGregor surfing on a wave on the Ottawa River in Dagger Kayak's GT
For the love of surf and the love of river running, Dagger Kayak's GT is your perfect balance. | Photo: Rapid Staff
Dagger GT / GTX Specs
Length: 7 ft 10 in / 8 ft 2 in
Width: 24 in / 25.5 in
Volume: 67 gal / 76 gal
Weight: 38 lbs / 40 lbs
Cockpit: 34 in x19 in / 34 in x 19 in
Paddler Weight: 90-180 lbs / 140-230 lbs
Standard Features: Precision seat, thigh braces and Clutch Outfitting System
MSRP: $1,495.00
dagger.com

With all the hype freestyle paddling has received it is easy to forget that a vast majority of paddlers prefer running rivers.

For park and play paddlers the concept of river running consists of limping down the river, helplessly floating past the hero ferries of yesterday in boats designed to maximize their freestyle potential.

Yes, it’s true some playboats are decent enough river runners and they’ve helped push the envelope of what is acceptable but they lack the exhilarating all-river performance of longer traditional boats. Without any more editorial tangents let me introduce the new Dagger GT.

Dagger Kayak’s goal was not to create a playboat that could river run nor to design a river runner that could play…but to create a boat that was equally balanced at both. Partially as a replacement of the popular Redline series and partially as an evolution of the more playful Outlaw/Showdown series, the new GT and GTX were borne of a desire to fill a niche that was left empty. Dagger wanted a boat that is equally at home running harder rivers and playing by today’s new school standards.

An 8-foot kayak by Dagger Kayak’s for river running and surfing

Coming in at just under 8 feet in length, Dagger Kayak’s GT splits the difference between traditional river runners and park and play boats. If you’re the type of person who likes a sweeping oversimplification of design we’d say the GT series is an old school RPM combined with a new school ID.

Like the Dagger ID, the GT and GTX are relatively narrow and have a very slight curvature across the planing surface combined with raised edges. The design theory is that you can more easily tilt from edge to edge than you can with a wider, completely flat hulled boat. Rather than going with the more traditional river running continuous rocker, Dagger shortened the planing surface putting a hard rocker break just ahead and behind the paddler.

Mark Lyle of the Dagger design team explains: “We went through five prototypes before we had what we wanted. There is a lot of trial and error involved in boat design, more than some people might realize. It was important for the boat to feel loose on a wave but we noticed that a longer planing surface made a lot of other moves harder. As soon as we shortened the planing surface we could boof and pivot better and the boat responded better to paddler input.”

The GT’s kayak outfitting accessories

Dagger’s new Clutch Outfitting isn’t industry leading but it contains all the essentials a paddler requires to be safe and comfortable. The kit has a certain sense of familiarity to it that leaves paddlers with a feeling of self-empowerment instead of shyly asking the store staff what the new auto-ratcheting, micro-adjustable, heat-moldable, thermo-resin doodad does to ensure they can get out safely.

The peel and stick hip pads and assorted foam shims are all pretty self-explanatory and likely revolutionary compared to the typical river runner’s blue foam and duct tape jobs—brutal. The fully adjustable thigh braces are a pretty slick system with no exposed bolts and the seat and Bomber Gear backband are fully adjustable. Throwing in a compact screwdriver and a little wrench would be a nice touch.

Dagger Kayaks’ GT adjustable sit-in kayak seats

Short people win once again; they can move the adjustable bulkhead wherever they want. The seat is adjustable from front to back but should be set for boat performance not fit (more on that later). With the seat in a centered or forward position the narrow bow results in a pretty snug fit for tall or large footed paddlers.

Dagger Kayak’s GT is a boat you are likely to spend hours in and not likely to flatwater cartwheel so taller paddlers of any weight might need to try the GTX to be comfortable. Tip: removing the foam from the plastic bulkhead buys you almost another inch. Coming back to the GT after paddling boats like the G-Force we realized foot and leg comfort is more a factor of width than length. Despite the added length of the GT, the narrow bow made for a limited foot room.

A balanced whitewater kayak that promotes confidence

The first thing we noticed is that you need to get the GT trimmed properly—balanced from front to back or even slightly bow heavy. The short planing surface and hard rocker break just behind the seat allows you to, on command, roll back onto your stern raising the bow for boofing and crossing larger eddy lines.

If you’re not trimmed properly the boat is slower, you will fall off otherwise nice surf waves and you tend to wheelie or plane across currents instead of carving through them. Forget about working to keep the bow up, it doesn’t dive or pearl like the Redline.

Having a similar hull to the ID, the GT is an extremely user-friendly boat. With its raised edges and lots of flare, we were crossing eddy lines with hardly any tilt and the twitchy stern of the Redline is gone. The secondary and final stability promotes confidence. Paddlers accustomed to edgier boats found it a soft carver, those used to mushy modern playboats loved it.

Either way, both agreed the GT provides the experienced paddler the comfort zone needed for harder river runs while beginners and intermediates benefit from having a boat for which they don’t need to remember all the rules. One tester summed it up best, “I haven’t felt so at home in a boat since my RPM.” Why is the RPM one of the best selling boats? Because people are able to paddle it.

A user-friendly 8-foot kayak with lots of rocker

Eight feet and lots of rocker might be the perfect combo for blending flat, green all-day front surfs and respectable spinning. For a little perspective, the GT is only an inch longer than Wave Sport’s XXX. Get in a munchy side surf and you realize the GT is a longer, larger volume boat, and it’s not as easy as we remember to blast our way out. Which is okay, most likely GT owners aren’t really into big munchy holes anyway.

River runners aren’t hanging onto their five-year-old boats because they are cheap, there just isn’t a huge selection of new boats satisfying their needs. The evolution of rodeo boats has shown us that you don’t need ten feet of plastic to get down a river, but the hottest freestylers are now too specialized to be passed down and resold as all-river boats.

By combining the slippery feeling of their freestyle planing hulls with the user-friendliness of older, popular designs like the Redline and RPM, Dagger has the makings of another winner in their line-up. For 2003 Dagger will round out the GT series with a smaller version making the GT family a good choice for free-boaters, schools, clubs, new boaters and anyone else looking to catch an eddy.

For the love of surf and the love of river running, Dagger Kayak’s GT is your perfect balance. Feature Photo: Rapid Staff

Boat Review: The Escape by Formula Kayaks

Boat Review: The Escape by Formula Kayaks

The new Escape from Formula Kayaks is a nicely outfitted recreational/touring hybrid from Mid-Canada Fiberglass, the long-established builders of Scott Canoes. The same company built a giant model flying saucer for the Northern Ontario hamlet of Moonbeam, so perhaps it’s no wonder they had the know-how to pull off a surprisingly sleek and quick 13.5-foot kayak.

Nobody will get claustrophobic in the Escape’s generous cockpit. With no hatch or bulkhead in the front half of the boat, there’s miles of room for long legs, enormous feet, snacks and cameras. You can easily stow a drybag in the bow for extra gear on overnight trips. Combine that with 85 litres in the watertight rear hatch and you’ve got space for as much stuff as you’d want to schlep above the high-tide line.

Slim paddlers can easily pad out the hips and moulded fibreglass thigh braces for a secure, high-performance fit. The fibreglass seat, however, is a tad reminiscent of the bolted-down furniture in fast-food restaurants and won’t agree with everyone. You’re likely to want extra padding even though the seat is already perched several centimetres above the floor. This seat’s better half is the soft Immersion Research backband with its ratcheted, ski boot-style buckle.

On the water, the broad, shallow-v hull makes a stable platform great for birdwatching, photography, and other serene pursuits. Putting a moderate tilt onto the boat’s multi-chine side gives it a second keel with a shorter waterline, enabling quick, neatly carved outside turns.

The sturdy, retractable rudder is easily deployed by a pull-cord just to the right of the cockpit without a clumsy backward reach. But since there’s no cleat on the deck to secure the pull-cord, the rudder tends to rise and stay out of the water when it bumps over seaweed or logs. We also found it hard to get the rudder to sit back into the narrow groove that’s moulded into the rear deck for this purpose. A cradle to hold the rudder on the deck would eliminate play in the foot pedals along with the need for the bulky weather stripping that’s been added to prevent it from scratching the fibreglass. The rudder is optional and the Escape tracks well without it in all but the strongest crosswinds. On edge, the boat turns at least as fast without the rudder as with, so paddle the boat before you fork out the extra 22 percent for this add-on.

With features like recessed deck fittings, molded gutters for draining around the cockpit, a metal security bar behind the cockpit for attaching a cable-lock, comfy suitcase-style grab handles, and bungy cords forward of the foot pedals to keep them from sliding off the rails, the Escape has all the bells and whistles of its higher-volume touring cousins in a size that’s more suitable for luxury-laden day trips and weekend excursions. You also get the light weight, smooth finish and clean lines of a fibreglass boat in a user-friendly design usually reserved for plastic.

Specs

  • Length: 13 ft 6 in
  • Width: 24.5 in
  • Mid-ship depth: 12 in
  • Weight: 36 lbs
  • Cockpit: 32.5 x 18 in
  • Carrying capacity: 240 lbs
  • Rear hatch volume: 85 L
  • MSRP: $1,799 CAD without rudder; $2,195 CAD with rudder

Screen_Shot_2015-06-29_at_9.39.17_AM.pngThis article first appeared in the Fall 2002 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Silhouette by Northern Lights

Photo: Northern Lights
Boat Review: The Silhouette by Northern Lights

Northern Lights Canoe and Kayak is by today’s measure a small boat builder. Based in Barrie, Ontario, with shops now in Collingwood ON and Fort Meyers FL, Northern Lights began as a canoe manufacturer supplying boats to the popular Muskoka and Algonquin Park regions. For the last five years they have been quietly turning out about eight touring kayaks a week and have increased their line-up to include five different models.

At 15’10”, the Northern Lights Silhouette is designed with a smaller sized paddler in mind. The soft shined hull and 24” beam offer an excellent platform for learning or perfecting kayak touring essential strokes and skills. The soft chines provide a comfortable transition from primary to secondary or final stability. Northern Lights intended the Silhouette as a smaller person’s craft but we were pleased to find that our larger and longer legged reviewers were able to enter and exit the boat safely and comfortably.  A smaller paddler may want to customize their seat placement slightly forward of the factory placement for better contact with the thigh brace area.

Typically, shorter boars are slower and turn more quickly than longer boats. But what you really need to look at is not the length but the waterline – how much of the boat length is in the water. The Northern Lights Silhouette is a shorter boat yet they have maintained its waterline by producing a boat with very little rocker. So although it is under sixteen feet the Silhouette feels quick to accelerate and will not be left behind in a group of seventeen to eighteen foot boats. The long waterline makes tracking without the rudder a breeze and with the rudder engaged almost idiot proof.

If required, the fully anodized Feathercraft rudder system is easily deployed by a rope system located on the right hand side of the cockpit. With the rudder in the up position, we liked that there is very little play in the pedals.

The hatches are large and can accommodate most sizes of dry bags, making the Silhouette easy to load. The hatch covers are fibreglass with a gasket rand fitting into an internal hatch rim. Fastex buckles and Velcro backed nylon webbing straps complete the system. This closure is more than adequate in normal paddling conditions and only leaked slightly during an afternoon of rolling and rescue practice. The Silhouette is a snap to roll.

The interior is nicely finished with an adjustable high-back seat and foam padding under the front of the cockpit for your knees. The Silhouette comes standard with plastic foot pedals, stainless steel fasteners and cables. The exterior of our Silhouette was very aesthetically pleasing with a blended paint job, recessed deck fittings, perimeter line, ample deck rigging and large comfortable carrying handles.

Small, local builders offer you the ability to customize your boat with colour, materials, seat, bulkhead placements and deck rigging configurations. You also get the satisfaction of wandering in and brushing shoulders with the person building your boat.

SPECS

Length: 15ft 10in
Width: 24 in
Weight: 48 lbs
Cockpit: 16 in x 31 in
Front hatch: 21 US gallons
Rear hatch: 36 US gallons
Total volume: 110 US gallons
SRP: $2750 CDN

Screen_Shot_2015-07-02_at_2.30.19_PM.pngThis article first appeared in the Fall 2002 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.