FEATURE STORY:

Ashuapmushuan River: Notice to Paddlers

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Oh yes! The Petit-Giroux is a rapid that gets progressively bigger and more difficult. We were still two and a half kilometers from the end of it when a wave came out of nowhere and flipped a canoe; a little further, another waved appeared and then a third. Before we could react, or see what happened next, three canoes were overturned and we knew the others were in trouble as well. They needed to go to shore and bale water out of their canoes Where would help come from, now that our guides are far behind us, busy bailing water from their canoes?

Two and a half kilometers swimming in huge waves made us swallow water again and again. "We will die for sure," I thought. We were not capable of swimming any more: our legs no longer responded. We could not get any air, the rocks and boulders caught us and kept prolonging this nightmare that would never end. Our lifejackets were not keeping us above the water and our heads were going under. It was hell…the hour of death was approaching…

Then, a powerful voice said, " Swim to shore." Where did this voice come from? The little yellow canoe had appeared from nowhere. The hermit told us to grab the rope at the end of his canoe and swim with him. That strong and impressive voice forced us to swim harder than we thought we could, and to not quit until we were in a safe place. Our legs obeyed. The water was so fast that some of us thought it impossible to reach the shore but this guardian canoe angel did not hesitate. Unbothered, he seemed to fly over to water to our rescue. While some of us cried helplessly, we watched him take six of us, one by one from the grip of the river that held us so far from shore. Then, he recovered two canoes and helped our guide to escape from the grip of the river. He told us how to get out of our impossible situation and the most likely places where we could find the gear that had been carried away by the current. Then he disappeared again after giving us a warning of the Grade III ledge waiting for us near the end of the day and that we would have no choice but to line our boats on far river right. Certainly, we would do that. We had learned our lesson already. Some of us had already had enough whitewater for the whole trip.

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