I have been asked many times whether or not it is safe for Kathleen and I to paddle wilderness rivers on our own. The implication is that we are being somewhat foolhardy. I have been asked so often, that I have prepared a response, which I have pasted below.
Kathleen and I very much prefer to paddle alone, an approach that is considered wrong, even foolhardy by most “experts” and wilderness paddling books. The general recommendation is that all wilderness canoe trips should include at least three tandem boats. If one boat is lost or damaged by capsize or broaching on a rock, then the remaining two boats can each accommodate one of the unfortunate paddlers. Also, three tandem boats with six people provides a critical mass for camp chores and the flexibility to spell off a tired or sick paddler. All of this makes good sense.
I should say though, that Kathleen and I never capsize on wilderness canoe trips. Never. I’m a firm believer that you should never capsize on wilderness rivers. Despite this confidence bordering on hubris, people still ask us, “Well, what if you do capsize?”
I tell them again that we don’t capsize. Ever. Kathleen and I are experienced. We know our skills. We work well as a team. We are always reading the river, anticipating what hazards might be waiting for us downstream. And, if the truth be told, as I am about to tell you, more boats and more people sometimes just inject bravado and peer pressure into the paddling expedition.
Imagine that six people are standing on shore, looking at the rapid, and deciding whether or not to run. One pair of paddlers is definitely worried and apprehensive. They would rather portage. The other four paddlers start saying things like, “I can run this. You should be able to run it too. Come on. We don’t even need to scout the entire rapid. Let’s just go. What are you worried about?”
So all six people climb back into their canoes and turn down into the noisy, rocky maelstrom of white and foam. The worried pair of paddlers becomes hesitant. Their strokes become tentative. Hesitation and tentative strokes often produce very bad results in a rapid. The frightened paddlers make it halfway down before broaching on a midstream rock. Their Kevlar canoe wraps, shudders for a second or two, and then shatters into pieces. Gear and now-panicked canoeists float away at the mercy of the unforgiving current. Maybe all of the gear and both canoeists are saved. That is certainly the best-case scenario.
So, one of the tandem boats has been lost. The remaining two boats now have three paddlers and approximately 50% more gear. This is not a good option. On all of our wilderness canoe trips, our boat is full, pretty much from the beginning to the very end of the trip. Kathleen and I really don’t have room for more people and more gear in our canoe.
Kathleen and I very much prefer to paddle alone, an approach that is considered wrong, even foolhardy by most “experts” and wilderness paddling books. The general recommendation is that all wilderness canoe trips should include at least three tandem boats. If one boat is lost or damaged by capsize or broaching on a rock, then the remaining two boats can each accommodate one of the unfortunate paddlers. Also, three tandem boats with six people provides a critical mass for camp chores and the flexibility to spell off a tired or sick paddler. All of this makes good sense.
I should say though, that Kathleen and I never capsize on wilderness canoe trips. Never. I’m a firm believer that you should never capsize on wilderness rivers. Despite this confidence bordering on hubris, people still ask us, “Well, what if you do capsize?”
I tell them again that we don’t capsize. Ever. Kathleen and I are experienced. We know our skills. We work well as a team. We are always reading the river, anticipating what hazards might be waiting for us downstream. And, if the truth be told, as I am about to tell you, more boats and more people sometimes just inject bravado and peer pressure into the paddling expedition.
Imagine that six people are standing on shore, looking at the rapid, and deciding whether or not to run. One pair of paddlers is definitely worried and apprehensive. They would rather portage. The other four paddlers start saying things like, “I can run this. You should be able to run it too. Come on. We don’t even need to scout the entire rapid. Let’s just go. What are you worried about?”
So all six people climb back into their canoes and turn down into the noisy, rocky maelstrom of white and foam. The worried pair of paddlers becomes hesitant. Their strokes become tentative. Hesitation and tentative strokes often produce very bad results in a rapid. The frightened paddlers make it halfway down before broaching on a midstream rock. Their Kevlar canoe wraps, shudders for a second or two, and then shatters into pieces. Gear and now-panicked canoeists float away at the mercy of the unforgiving current. Maybe all of the gear and both canoeists are saved. That is certainly the best-case scenario.
So, one of the tandem boats has been lost. The remaining two boats now have three paddlers and approximately 50% more gear. This is not a good option. On all of our wilderness canoe trips, our boat is full, pretty much from the beginning to the very end of the trip. Kathleen and I really don’t have room for more people and more gear in our canoe.
Kathleen and I feel quite safe on our own. We never run any rapid unless both of us agree to run. We often scout where others might not. We are alone on the river, so we must not capsize. Ever. Kathleen and I actually feel secure in our aloneness, not threatened. We are free to paddle when we want. We are free to camp where and when we want. We are free to take unplanned rest days and hikes when we want. We are free to stop to botanize and birdwatch when we want. We are free to be ourselves.
I should also point out that larger groups do not even guarantee rescue of capsized paddlers and gear. I have read and heard of many fatalities that have occurred among larger groups. A mid-river capsize on a large, Arctic river can initiate fatal hypothermia before help arrives. A foot entrapment can cause drowning before help arrives. Large groups can improve safety and security, but they provide no such guarantee. Wilderness canoeing emancipates the paddler from regulations and rules. Travel in groups if you wish. Paddle alone if you prefer. It’s your choice no matter what anyone says.
That's my take on it, anyway.