After writing my “Wind bound” posting a thought kept bouncing around in my head, so I am putting thoughts to paper. In the modern world we tend to live by the clock. We have routines we stick to and time schedules we build our life on. A reliable person is one who appears at work, at appointments or at home for meals, on time.
Indians on the other hand live more by the day or by the season. They are on time if they arrive in a day or two. They learned long ago to bend with Mother Nature.
People who have camps and cottages in the lake country bring their rigid routines with them from the city.
These habit can end up killing you, if you do not learn to compensate for the weather or the season.
I have heard many stories of people out in boats or canoes who suddenly came face to face with bad weather and failed to act wisely
.
High winds, plus the waves they create, can turn a lovely day on the lake to a gut wrenching experience.
Unexpected rain or sleet can chill the unprepared to dangerous levels. A snow storm or freezing temperatures that come without warning can also kill a person in a short space of time if they are not dressed properly. I am not talking about city living but being out in the wilderness.
In the last 200 years the records are full of stories of people who drowned on the lake during a storm. In far too many occasions an investigation into a tragedy showed that the person or people involved were more concerned in getting home for supper or before dark. They were faced with being “wind bound” or storm bound and instead of thinking clearly, they took off for home, and died doing so.
Whenever I headed out into the lakes and woods of Northern Ontario, either by boat or on foot, I had a rule. My family and friends understood that if the weather turned against me I would stay put and wait it out. In other words I would not risk my life to get home at a given hour or before dark, just because common rules said I should do so. I would say, “Give me a day or two to get home before you call the police.” I had no wish to be rescued when I was simply wind bound and waiting for conditions to improve.
Many old tales of canoeing trappers, hunters, and voyagers mention being “wind bound” from a few hours to many days. It was comparable to getting stuck in heavy traffic in a modern city. It is an acceptable reason to be late in either case.
Why then does the weekend warrior fail to sit out the high winds or storm and risks his life to get home? When you interview a survivor of a boat or canoe that swamped in a storm, far too often you hear how they were trying to get home at a given time or before it got dark. In hindsight it seems nothing but stupid to lose your life trying to get home before dark.
A cold rainy night shivering on a rocky shore is a small price to pay against dying.
Being wind bound is like having an insurance policy to stay safe. Don’t live by the clock and end up dying because of it.
Showing posts with label "wind bound". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "wind bound". Show all posts
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Wind bound
Before I became an avid and experienced canoeist the term wind-bound intrigued me. The words became personal when on a 1967 June canoe trip in Northwestern Ontario I experience this phenomana. Two of us were on a ten day canoe trip through a series of lakes and portages. We each had our own canoe along with our share of the gear.
On the fourth day, and after a long portage of canoes and equipment, we ended up on a sandy shore at the end of a long narrow lake. The map indicated it was named Windy Lake. The wind was blowing down the length of the lake and large waves were crashing on the beach. We decided it was a good time to take a break, eat our evening meal, and rest until the wind died down. There were no roads or cabins in this wilderness area and no other person within at least fifty miles.
About an hour later, we had cleaned up after the meal and reloaded the canoes. The wind and waves were still strong but we thought we should be able to launch the canoes and get away from the beach. It was difficult to hold the canoe into the waves so we waded out to knee deep and then jumped in our canoes. It was impossible to manage more than three or four strokes with the paddle before we were driven up on the beach sideways with water gushing over the sides. We took turns trying different ways to launch the canoe and get away from the shore but everything we tried failed. We spent a lot of time between tries, unloading the canoes and dumping the water. As a last resort we both got into an empty canoe and paddled like mad to no avail.
We could not get away from shore. We were wind bound!
We sat for hours on the beach waiting for the wind to die down but it did not happen. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered reading that wind usually lessened at the break of dawn. We had the habit of arising early every morning on this trip so we got organized to take advantage of the wind dropping. The canoes were left loaded with all the gear, with the exception of our sleeping bags.
It seemed like a long windy night but at dawn we were up and had the sleeping bags rolled up and loaded and we were ready to go. A little water left in the bottom of each canoe near the nose was frozen. Now it was a cold windy day and we were going to get wet no matter if we got off shore or not. We sat watching the wind and waves like two race horses ready to charge down the track.
Finally we could feel the wind was dropping and the crash of the waves was lessening. To go too early was just as bad as waiting too long. At some point we both agreed, it was time to go. The canoes were dragged off the beach as we waded into the cold water. With all the skill we possessed we jumped into the canoes and started paddling like mad. When we were off shore about ten feet the wind and waves seemed at their worst and it was all we could do to maintain our position. We dared not stop paddling or we would crash back on the shore. If one of us failed, the other would have to go back as we had to stay together.
Then, slowly, we seemed to make some progress and soon the noise from the beach was dropping and we were free of the shore. Wind and waves continued to try and beat us backwards. It was necessary to keep the nose of the canoe into the wind or we would spin around and never get back in control.
As the sun rose and took the chill out of the air, the wind began to drop and soon the lake calmed down.
An hour later we were able to drop our paddles and catch our breath.
The rest of the trip was great but we never forgot what the term wind bound meant.
On the fourth day, and after a long portage of canoes and equipment, we ended up on a sandy shore at the end of a long narrow lake. The map indicated it was named Windy Lake. The wind was blowing down the length of the lake and large waves were crashing on the beach. We decided it was a good time to take a break, eat our evening meal, and rest until the wind died down. There were no roads or cabins in this wilderness area and no other person within at least fifty miles.
About an hour later, we had cleaned up after the meal and reloaded the canoes. The wind and waves were still strong but we thought we should be able to launch the canoes and get away from the beach. It was difficult to hold the canoe into the waves so we waded out to knee deep and then jumped in our canoes. It was impossible to manage more than three or four strokes with the paddle before we were driven up on the beach sideways with water gushing over the sides. We took turns trying different ways to launch the canoe and get away from the shore but everything we tried failed. We spent a lot of time between tries, unloading the canoes and dumping the water. As a last resort we both got into an empty canoe and paddled like mad to no avail.
We could not get away from shore. We were wind bound!
We sat for hours on the beach waiting for the wind to die down but it did not happen. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered reading that wind usually lessened at the break of dawn. We had the habit of arising early every morning on this trip so we got organized to take advantage of the wind dropping. The canoes were left loaded with all the gear, with the exception of our sleeping bags.
It seemed like a long windy night but at dawn we were up and had the sleeping bags rolled up and loaded and we were ready to go. A little water left in the bottom of each canoe near the nose was frozen. Now it was a cold windy day and we were going to get wet no matter if we got off shore or not. We sat watching the wind and waves like two race horses ready to charge down the track.
Finally we could feel the wind was dropping and the crash of the waves was lessening. To go too early was just as bad as waiting too long. At some point we both agreed, it was time to go. The canoes were dragged off the beach as we waded into the cold water. With all the skill we possessed we jumped into the canoes and started paddling like mad. When we were off shore about ten feet the wind and waves seemed at their worst and it was all we could do to maintain our position. We dared not stop paddling or we would crash back on the shore. If one of us failed, the other would have to go back as we had to stay together.
Then, slowly, we seemed to make some progress and soon the noise from the beach was dropping and we were free of the shore. Wind and waves continued to try and beat us backwards. It was necessary to keep the nose of the canoe into the wind or we would spin around and never get back in control.
As the sun rose and took the chill out of the air, the wind began to drop and soon the lake calmed down.
An hour later we were able to drop our paddles and catch our breath.
The rest of the trip was great but we never forgot what the term wind bound meant.
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