A 7 DAY STAND UP PADDLE EXPEDITION IN THE GREAT BEAR RAINFOREST WITH NORM HANN EXPEDITIONS

Day 1 - HOME IS WHERE YOU FERRY YOUR GEAR

It's early morning, late August, and raining in Prince Rupert. As I walk down the street in my gortex jacket and rubber boots, hauling two dry bags with gear for the next 6 nights in the Great Bear Rainforest I spot two hooded men who I recognize as having arrived on the same flight in the night prior to this port city hub in northern British Columbia. They appeared to be on a similar mission as me, decked out in rain wear and lugging gear; walking in the same direction but without conviction as to where exactly they were headed. It was a safe bet that these were fellow stand up paddling adventurers who carried the same hopes as I did for spotting the sacred Kermode 'Spirit' bear in Gitga'at Territory over the coming days. I shot over a wave and crossed the empty street and we continued our rainy walk together in search of the Tsimshian Storm, the ferry that would take us to Hartley Bay where our guides Norm and Steve were waiting to welcome us to Canada's coastal rainforest.

We were an excited group of 6 crammed together, rainboot to rainboot, in the back seats of a full ferry; Mary and Adrian from Toronto, Rob and Matt from New Jersey, Laddie from North Vancouver, and myself from the Ottawa Valley. This would be our crew for the expedition. We chatted over the next 4 hours with anticipation of the experience that we would come to share. Aboard the ferry we were nothing more than a group of sore thumbs sticking out among the locals as we let out uncontrollable hoots and hollers at the prospect of catching sight of humpback whales in the distance.

Our arrival to Hartley Bay felt grand as we pulled into dock; four wheelers, golf carts, men, women, children, and dogs all lined the boardwalk in anticipation of the Tsimshian Storm. The ferry had been fully loaded and carried aboard it groceries and goods to be delivered into the community for what would be the second, and last trip between Prince Rupert and Hartley Bay for the week. Norm Hann Expedition logos were donned on hats along the boardwalk and it soon became clear the mutual support and respect which Norm, as an adopted member of the Raven Clan, and the Gitga'at people had for one another. This deep relationship was instrumental to our expedition as Norm and Steve were able to 'shop' for grocery items from the fridges of families to fulfill missing items from our food order, as we were accounted for and held in concern while out on the land by the people of Hartley Bay, and as we simply had the opportunity to experience and explore the traditional territory of the Gitga'at First Nations.

It was late afternoon when we hopped on a fishing boat to travel from Hartley Bay to Cornwall Inlet about 45 minutes away. Clement Rapid sits where the fresh water inlet meets the salt water of Whale Channel. As the tide changes so does the direction of the rapid. Timing is everything as you wait for your opportunity to pass through the gateway leading you back to the land, back to simplicity, back to beauty. It was a moody boat ride in through Cornwall Inlet with mist and fog layers painting the mountains as the daylight dwindled. We were tired from travel and wet from the rain and couldn’t begin to imagine what the week ahead would have in store for us. As the dark took over and we neared the end of the inlet a headlight was cast upon the water and ripples of light reflected upon the shoreline cascading and trickling down like a waterfall, illuminating a cedar backdrop – WAABS WII DIIS; the Gitga’at Raven Clan Longhouse. With inflatable paddleboards in tow off of the back of our shuttle boat we dropped down onto our Boardworks SHUBUs resting on the darkness of the water below. Moon jellyfish welcomed us as we ferried our gear in and landed upon the shore where we would rest our head for the next two nights. As sleeping bags were spread around the dropped firepit of the longhouse and eyes began to close the deep silence of this wild space and the spirits still dancing inside from sacred ceremonies past held us tightly. We were home.

Day 2 - CEDAR LONGHOUSE AT CORNWALL INLET

We awoke to 1000 shades of green and a curious seal swimming laps in front of the longhouse. The sound of salmon jumping across the inlet echoed as the soundtrack to our morning tea. Fresh air was in abundance and we had nowhere to be but in the present moment.

The morning paddle up a small river guided us to transition our body, mind, and soul to be more deeply in tune with the land. Salmon were finning and bald eagles were nestled high in Sitka spruce. The rain continued to greet us and by the afternoon waterfalls had started appearing in all directions, bringing our senses to life. The dampness hugged our skin and moistened our lips, rain drops patterned the calm water of the inlet, and fog gently wove its way through the mountains as we were held immersed in the soundscape of water roaring off of the surrounding rock faces. WAABS WII DIIS, a cedar longhouse built in 2000 to protest logging in the area, rested with a silent powerful presence in the immense landscape.

We returned up the river in the evening to simply observe and be still; to practice becoming part of the wilderness. As we sat together alongside the flow of the river the feeling of Great Bear's ecosystem thriving all around us was undeniable. The lush green moss seemed to illuminate simply at the thought of salmon swimming by, enrapturing us in envisioning the salmon's contribution to the nourishment and growth of the rainforest flora and fauna throughout their life cycle.

That evening chicken curry and Gitga'at donuts filled our bellies while the smell of smoke filled the longhouse, our nostrils, and our wet clothes.

Day 3 - CLEMENT RAPIDS AND THE SEA LION ESCORT

Morning comes quickly and after a simple breakfast we shuttle all of our gear via the paddleboards back onto our support boat, the Screaming Eagle. We depart from the longhouse at 7:30 and begin our paddle out of the inlet towards Clement Rapids, misty mountains left behind in our wake. Quick glances back affirm the imprint of a sacred place left on our hearts. We were souls set free, each paddle stroke the movement that held us in total presence of the beauty of Great Bear. We stopped only to examine from the water the location of a bentwood box. High above on a rock overhang held a burial ground with remains inside a cedar box. The support boat catches up to our fleet around 8 km and scoops us aboard one by one, towing behind it a convoy of paddleboards. We ferry the remainder of the inlet to the rapids, arriving in time for low tide, when the rapids fall silent for a moment and change direction of flow towards the channel. On the paddleboards once again we tuck into the shoreline above the rapids and close our eyes. We listen for the silence of the water to arrive and when it does we paddle in and ride out the flow.

There's a commotion in the water up ahead and as we paddle in closer our heart rates jump as 12+ sea lions, thousands of pounds of blubber, come swimming and jumping towards us in perfect but unwelcome synchronization. We laugh off the nerves and come to a group agreement on who was the most terrified and therefore who the sea lions would want us to sacrifice first. With all paddleboards still sporting a paddler Whale Channel awaited us as a complete white fog backdrop to our paddles cutting through a glass-like surface. Our medium was a mirror which held within it a private sea lion escort guiding us out along the channel.

A short hike to a large waterfall was followed by lunch on our support boat as sandwiches were slapped together with ingredients spread out on the underside of a paddleboard resting on the bow of the boat. The afternoon was showered with rain and whale spray as paddleboards hustled the shoreline towards to a new base camp for the remainder of the expedition. Soaked, we made land as the tide went out and tucked the SHUBUs in for the evening under a roof of Sitka spruce above the intertidal zone.

Poor weather conditions prevented the float plane bearing the remainder of our food order from landing in Hartley Bay that evening and would be rescheduled. Dropping trap provided a haul of three Dungeness crabs and made for a delicious meal topped with garlic butter alongside Coho salmon, pairing well with good company and a spectacular view.

Our bodies were cleansed with each breath of Great Bear air and raindrop that trickled down our skin, connecting us more deeply to the land and to ourselves.