NATASHQUAN 2001 by Leonel Richard

NATASHQUAN 2001 by Leonel Richard

Thursday evening after work we met at the house of Daniel Levesque in Napan New Brunswick. Danis from Caraquet and Claude from Tracadie arrived at sunset as heavy dark clouds were approaching form the west. We did the final packing and left in an honest to goodness thunderstorm. We caught the first ferry of the day at Matane for Baie Comeau and arrived before noon at the village of Natashquan where we checked in at the only inn in town. Before sunrise the next morning, we drove to the Deraps Floatplane base on Lac a l'Avion with the hope of departing for the headwaters of the Natashquan River as early as possible. Just as we arrived at the lake a thick fog was rolling in form the sea. The pilot suggested we go for breakfast in town and return around 9am by which time the warmth of the sun would likely have cleared up the air.

With bellies full we climbed aboard the float plane around 10:30 and took off on a north by northwest heading to the source of the Natashquan River. The two and a half hour flight aboard the single engine Otter gave us a chance to purge our minds of the logistics of trip planning and to focus almost single-mindedly on the trip we were about to commit to. Forgotten were the sobering sights along route 138 where we crossed rivers with names like the “Romaine”, the “Tonnerre” and the “Magpie”, engorged with water tumbling down cataracts, all brown and turbulent. Perhaps every group member was like me; thinking it was too late to worry about it so why say anything.

The rain had begun two weeks before and was finally ending which meant that once we put in at the headwater, the level could do nothing but drop. Our concern was that the river was at Spring-time level and that reading was from a flow gauge located more than three quarters of the way down the river. Also this reading had been taken a few days earlier with the water level still rising.

The terrain on the way to the Labrador plateau is a mixture of forests and barrens sprinkled with bogs and lakes. The barrens are the most dramatic with their pastel yellow lichen occasionally traversed by caribou paths. Wildlife is not as prevalent here as it is further South, especially along the river corridor where many days of travel will yield only a few sightings. The Natashquan River has its source roughly at the center of a imaginary circle running through Wabush, Goose Bay and the village of Natashquan on the Lower North Shore. The starting point is in effect approximately 225 kilometres from the nearest permanent habitation. The first one hundred kms or so of the river runs Southeast in the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador then crosses the 52nd parallel into Quebec and runs on a Southerly direction for the last three hundred kms.

Approaching the headwaters, the forest closed in on the edges of the lakes with the open areas being mostly string bogs. The flat topography of the plateau precludes any chance of a majestic view upon landing on the lake but we are all euphoric none the less. Little do we know what we are about to experience for we are all novices at this sort of adventure. The water level is indeed high as we scan the shoreline. The sight of half submerged shrubs adds yet another measure of adrenaline to the bloodstream. Ahead of us is the descent of the Natashquan River which has occupied our minds for the last two years. The decision to run in July was made as a result of averaging the monthly debit of the past years and the fact that the only detailed account of the upper Natashquan was of a group of six paddlers having run in August of 2000 in extremely low water. The chances of medium water levels were better in July and so the date had been set.

The plateau section is characterized by a series of lakes three to six square kilometres in area, connected by a few kilometres of rapids and falls. Lining the canoes is the easiest way to avoid running rapids during days 1 and 2. This is done while wading waist deep to avoid the alder choked shoreline. High water complicates things by flooding the shoreline and sometimes making lining impossible. Portaging in this condition means bushwacking through the tangled undergrowth. The difficult portaging would come around 80 kms and 6 days later where at the edge of the plateau, the forest floor breaks up into an impossible jumble of jagged boulders, add to that slippery wet sphagnum moss, an 80 lbs. load, mosquitos, blackflies, deerflies, moose flies and thunder storms.

My bow partner is Claude Savoie while the other canoe is paddled by Danis Pageau and Daniel Levesque. Claude and I have paddled together before, but it was a while back. Danis and Daniel are canoeing together for the first time, although they are not new to paddling. Danis has obtained his experience in New Brunswick and Quebec while Daniel has earned his stripes while paddling in Alberta and more recently in New Brunswick.

For this trip we have opted for 16ft ABS canoes because of the fact that they are at least ten pounds lighter than the boats usually used on this type of river trip. A dry run proved that such a canoe with a slight rocker and high sides is ideal for extended tripping. It will prove more than adequate for two paddlers, all their gear and food for at least three weeks while still affording ample freeboard to run class II+ water. We also decide to carry along a full size axe that will come to be regarded as a necessary tool for breaking trails. No tool has been invented yet that will break a trail in heavy bush better than an old fashioned axe.

The first few days are comparatively easy with a series of unnamed lakes connected by fairly steep sections of river. Most drops can be run or lined while two have to be portaged. The bugs are quite tolerable considering where we are and the time of year. Every evening the maps are poured over and a progress report given to show that we are slightly ahead of schedule.

Day 3 is the beginning of a fifteen kilometers stretch of falls and rapids after which lies a ten kilometers long narrow lake named the Big Steady followed directly by another section of rapids and falls of about fifty kilometers. Upon entering this stretch of river, we are confident that in three or four days we will emerge at the lower end to savor the ceremonial bottle of Quintreau which was taken along by Daniel for that occasion. At the end of this nasty section of the Natashquan is the mouth of a substantial river called the “Masquamanaga” which came to be renamed the“Rivière Quintreau” in the interest of keeping up the morale among the paddlers.

Day 3 is also the day of the first Tornado. Shortly after finishing a long portage, we are ready to join the river again but only for a brief paddle. There is in front of us yet another waterfall worthy of a name were it anywhere but here. After a short scouting trek, it is determined that the easiest of options is to wet line the canoes one at a time along the edge of the main channel until the main drop and then as the cliff recedes we should be able to pull out and scramble onto the rock. I am eager to take the lead but only for the reason that stepping into the cold water will afford me relief for my aching feet. I will take the bow and my canoe partner Claude will take the stern while the lines are handled by Daniel and Danis from up above. The process will be repeated for the second canoe and the roles reversed. The noise of the waterfall is deafening, the waist deep water is fast and unnerving and then the Tornadoes arrive. Tornadoes are some of the world's most advanced fighter jets and can be flown along narrow valleys at very low altitude. They are also very noisy. It was a good long while before the pucker effect had fully dissipated. We were to be visited daily for the next 5 days by Tornadoes and the huge lumbering Hercules. This was the extent of our social life on the river.

Day 3 passed and so did 4 and 5 with such slow progress that I wondered at times if my blistered feet would ever again be dry enough to hold bandages. Day 5 was a special treat as we reached the Big Steady on a hot sunny afternoon. Newfoundlanders and Labradorians have a way of trivializing their topography: "lakes" are known as "ponds", "mountains" are called "rocks" and this lake which measures over 9 kms long is worthy of only a "Steady". We were glad to be wearing dry clothes and footwear again.

The topographic map told us that at the lower end of the Big Steady we would be encountering a waterfall but to our delight we found instead a very runnable class II rapid after which we found an adequate campsite on river right. It was the next day that we came upon the waterfall, a full five-kilometers away from where it was shown on the map. Not all that is written (or drawn) is to be believed.

The following days are very slow going just as we had anticipated. The rough terrain, the fatigue and the hordes of insects definitely do not cancel each other out. Campsites are uncomfortable at best. The worst days end with a quick meal of heated army rations and directly to bed. The next morning we start all over again. On day six we complete 2 portages, day seven 5 portages and on day eight 2 portages again. Day nine serves us only a single portage but it is one and a half kilometres long.

The 10th day on the River we finally reach the "Rivière Quintreau". It is a spiritual as well as a physical place. The fatigue gives way to giddiness even before the bottle is opened. I feel invincible. The group is now even closer than it has ever been and as we paddle abreast, Daniel tells convoluted riddles that occupy our minds to detract from the aches that ten days of abuse has inflicted on our bodies. I realize at this point that I am exactly where I want to be and that I am fortunate to be part of this team. Ten days and we have only traveled a hundred kms with three hundred left to go.

There was almost no sign of human travel during the first 100 kms of the Natashquan except for here and there we find the remains of a campfire and once we spot what was once a portage trail now overgrown and useless. For the next 200 kms we would find the occasional camp belonging to Innu hunters who fly in for the fall hunt. Some are permanent wooden camps while the majority are structures made of spruce poles stuck in the sand which look like small house skeletons. They will be covered with canvas tents during the hunting season and as shelters go, are far more appealing than the cabins which are usually damp and musty.

Dependable tailwinds are as rare as hen's teeth on a river but we luck out on the 11th day. Total travel that day is 68 kilometres (42 miles) under sail. The next day looks promising at first as the wind blows consistently all during breakfast only to become variable once we are afloat. By now the River is on average two hundred meters in width with a sand or cobblestone bottom and shoreline. Camping is a lot easier than on the plateau where we had to pitch our tents on boulder piles and on one occasion the only available flat spot was on a twenty degree inclined slope.

This is where the beauty of the river is really appreciated. The valley has widened while the mountains have grown taller and more imposing. Here they stand 400 meters above the river in orderly fashion allowing the river to pass without concern. Occasionally, the whole side of a mountain is bared and showing its bones. Polished blue rock spans the whole river side of the mountains while the bases are covered with a 20 meter layer of house sized boulders. Later the river becomes even wider with channels forming a maze of sandbars and islands.

Being totally exposed to the wind and the view means fewer bugs but also means violent winds and even sandstorms. Even a tailwind can be useless for canoeing if it's too strong. One afternoon, while we were dealing with a variable wind we noticed the surface of the water behind us turning very dark with little catpaws signifying that a good gust of wind was coming. As it approaches we heard the noise of the wind whistling through the trees and we prepared for a good blow. The sails were made taut and the lines readied. Within one minute we were screaming down the river out of control in 3ft waves trying to hold the canoes together while retrieving the sail and bailing frantically. The sky was almost black not just from the heavy clouds but also from the sand that was now airborne causing great discomfort and confusion.

That afternoon the temperature turns cold and evening finds us on a wind swept island trying to keep a small fire focused on the kettle. From time to time, the wind picks up and sends us scrambling to the tents to keep them from being blown into the river. With time running short, it is decided that the entire river can not possibly be covered and a satellite phone call to our pilot Leonard Deraps is necessary. With over one quarter of the river left below us, we make arrangements to be picked up the next day, weather permitting. Mrs Deraps is concerned that the strong winds forecasted will make it impossible to fly and tells us that we should not expect anything unless the weather improves.

The next morning with a moderate headwind we pack up our sand covered belongings in the canoes and push off. It is evident that the floatplane will not be picking us up today. Around km 124 we arrive at "Rapide de Cache" which is a not so much a rapid but a 10ft tumbling waterfall. The river at this point is squeezed between cliffs and makes a sharp right hand turn just before the big drop. Daniel and I set out to scout the drop for a possible passage by lining while Danis and Claude search for a possible alternate route. One minute we are climbing a rock face and the next we are wading through eddies in water up to the chest. The ruggedness of the terrain eventually halts our progress just before the worst section of the falls forcing us to turn back quite dejected. Lining is out of the question and so is portaging along the shore. Upon reaching the canoes again we find the other two as happy as Hobbits having found a ready made portage trail beginning just a few meters from the beached canoes. Wet and bruised from our scouting, we unload the canoes. Compared to the past portages, this is a stroll in the park. This, our 24th portage of the trip is the first one with a ready-made trail. It will also be the last one as we are to be picked up the next morning after 15 days on the remote Natashquan.

The flight back starts at a point ninety-five kilometres up the river and ends at our vehicle. The small floatplane pier is abuzz with travelers awaiting transportation to communities further down the coast where there is still no road. The majority of the people are Innu who are in Natashquan for the Sainte Anne Day celebration. Once a year they gather to attend mass with fellow Innu from other communities and to see old friends and relatives. As soon as the last of our effects are unloaded, the re-loading is begun for the next flight. During summer, a bush pilot starts his day before sunrise and ends after sundown seven days a week.

Later that afternoon while still unwashed and unshaven, we have the unexpected pleasure of meeting the very man who personifies the Natashquan, Gilles Vigneault himself. With his characteristic black captain's cap and his bushy white hair covering his ears there is no mistaking him with anyone else. Once we have bought a few mementos it is time to head home. That night we stay at a hotel in Sept-Isles where we are re-acquainted with hot running water. Mid-morning the next day we arrive at the ferry terminal in Godbout and meet a group of paddlers from Nova Scotia on their way home from Sept-Isles. They tell us about their trip down the Moisie River where one of their group had fallen and had cut his hand open on a rock. As luck would have it, there was a Dentist with them who was able to suture the wound closed.

Many people have died on remote rivers from injuries, illness or hypothermia for want of a communication system that could summon aid. A multi-week trip means that a search will not be started until the estimated time of arrival has passed and furthermore there will be a search of the entire river rather than a rescue at a known location. For that reason we decided to bring along a satellite phone with a spare battery. One of the batteries was conserved for emergencies while the other was used to make short calls to home to let them know we were alright.

As for 16ft vs 18ft canoes, three of the portages were over a kilometer long, sometimes over boulder gardens. While huffing and puffing along, it was inconceivable to me that I would ever again paddle a river where there are portages with anything else but my 16ft long 60 pounder.


TRIP PLANNER

Length of river: The total distance of the main Natashquan River is 410 kms however the river is accessible by floatplane at numerous places below the forks of the Masquamanaga River and at the Big Steady higher up. There are at least two accounts of canoeists starting around the Quebec/Labrador border.

Time required: allow 15 to 20 days

Difficulty: Km 400-300 difficult, 300-100 easy to moderate, 100-0 probably moderate due to the predominant headwinds and the tides affecting the last 15 to 20 kilometres. The total count of portages depending on the water level and paddling ability is 24 to 28. The majority of the portages are on the first 100 kms and there are no established trails.

Accessibility: Route 138 now runs all the way to the village of Natashquan. The distance from Quebec City is approximately 1000 kilometers.

Accommodations: "Auberge La Cache" (12 rooms) (888) 726-3347 and "Le Port d'Attache" (8 rooms) (418) 726-3569 or 3767.

Places to eat: There is a pleasant little diner with booth seating called "La Goelette" and "Le Debardeur" which is a family style restaurant.

Transportation: Deraps Aviation (1 DeHaviland Beaver, 1 single single engine Otter and 1 Cessna on floats) (418) 726-3657 (no longer in operation)

Topographic maps: (1:50,000) 13 D/6, 13 D/7, 13 D/1, 12 M/16, 12 N/13, 12 N/12, 12 N/5, 12 N/4, 12 K/13, 12 K/12, 12 K/5, 12 K/4

Journal de bord, expédition en canot, rivière Natashquan, juillet, 2001

EXPÉDITION EN CANOË

RIVIÈRE NATASHQUAN

DU 12 JUILLET AU 29 JUILLET, 2001


Voici le journal que j’ai tenu lors cette palpitante aventure. Veuillez prendre note que toutes les heures sont en temps universel car l’expédition traversait trois fuseaux horaires.

La rivière Natashquan prend sa source au Labrador et se termine au village de Natashquan au Québec, soit une distance de 400 kilomètres. Notre voyage débute dans la Miramichi, au Nouveau-Brunswick.


12 juillet, 2001

Expédition en canoë sur la Natashquan. C’est le départ. Mes coéquipiers : Léonel Richard, 44 ans ; Danis Pageau, 36 ans ; Daniel Levesque, 45 ans et moi-même, Claude G. Savoie, 49 ans. Poids en équipement ; 170 kilos, en plus de nos deux canots. Sommes partis de chez, Daniel, à Napan, dans la région de la Miramichi à 01h00 UTC.

13 juillet

Arrivé à Matane à 8h00 UTC. Après une traverse du fleuve St-Laurent, arrêt à Sept-Îles, au Walmart. Batteries pour la caméra vidéo de Danis. Arrivé à Natashquan à 20h00 UTC. Le voyage s’est bien déroulé. Passage désertique et surréaliste par ces énormes rochers dénudés qui longent la route. Hébergement à l’Auberge La cache, au no. 9. J’ai partagé la chambre avec Léonel. Trinqué à la boisson de Chicoutail.



14 juillet

Ce matin il y a encore de la brume. Nous attendons toujours notre pilote, Monsieur Léonard Deraps, de Deraps aviation. Il y eu du brouillard toute la semaine et de la pluie. Nous avons hâte de savoir si nous partons aujourd’hui pour notre destination, le lac de la Source de la rivière, dans le Labrador, soit zone : UTM 20, 47800E - 581300N. Le relevé à Natashquan, notre base de départ : zone 20, 588980E - 560196N.

JOURNAL DE BORD DE CLAUDE G. SAVOIE


Nous nous sommes envolés à 15h35 UTC à bord d’un hydravion, DHC-3 Otter, construit le 20 juin, 1958. Amerrissage sans difficulté. Nous sommes excités de voir la rivière. Nous mettons les canots à l’eau et prenons possessions de nos bagages. Nous partons sur le lac, par un temps couvert. Premier camping à une pointe que nous avons (que j’ai) baptisé la Pointe à Claude, zone 20 0487706E – 5806927N. Trois litres de vin et le steak à Danis … un délice.

15 juillet



Levée à 10h00 UTC. Déjeuner, crêpes. Départ à 12h45 UTC. Arrivé à un rapide. Installé tente au début du portage. La rivière est gorgée d’eau. Il y eu de fortes pluie depuis le début juillet. Nous partageons demain matin.







16 juillet

Je viens de finir notre premier portage. Ouf !! Pas hâte à celui d’un kilomètre, cet après-midi. De l'épinette noire et du violon (mélèze), de la mousse de caribou, de couleur verdâtre et toujours humides. Rien d’autre. Les moustiques sont très raisonnables. Nous formons une belle équipe. Les rôles ont été mis bien au clair lors du premier portage. Léonel, le chef d'équipe, même s’il n’aime pas ce titre, Danis et Daniel, vont déterminer si l’on descend les rapides ou l’on portage. Pour ma part je vais rester en arrière avec les canots. Chacun à sa journée pour la préparation des repas, etc.

Débute portage, nous devons faire une piste à travers la forêt Débuté à 14h00 UTC. Léonel avec la hache, moi la boussole et la carte en main. Fini à 16h50 UTC. Impressions du groupe à la demi portage à 15h50 UTC : « Colice de tabarnacle, enfin rendu au 2ième portage. » Léonel jubile. Amerrissage bien content, Daniel a développé un grand respect pour les coureurs de bois. Léonel enchère avec bis ! Moi, c’est tout une job, heureux comme un pape. Daniel profite de son siège de toilette portable.

17 juillet

Première journée de soleil. Avons campés au bas du rapide suite à notre portage d’un kilomètre. Nous avons découvert une borne sur une pointe de roche, au bas du rapide. Inscription : D.R.H. Québec B .M. 120. Nous sommes toujours au Labrador.


15h10 UTC. Venons de dîner sur les roches dans un rapide. Vu de beaux rochers. Le terrain est en train de changer. Plus sec et moins spongieux. Mes habilités de canoteur s’améliorent.



Nous avons fait de la cordelle pour une bonne partie de la journée. Sommes arrivés à notre campement après un rapide qui est en réalité une chute. Daniel a tenté sa chance à la pêche.
A date nous sommes mouillées à tous les jours. La cordelle nous a demandé d’être à l’eau au niveau de la ceinture.






18 juillet

Jour 5. La levée du corps à 11h00 UTC. Nous ne sommes pas matinale, car nous avons besoin de récupérer. Faut dire que le soleil au Labrador, se lève à 08h00 UTC.
Définitivement il y a de ces instruments qui rendent la vie de camping fort agréable. Le bac de toilette portatif est l’un de ceux là. Nous avons fait 2 portages. Le dernier, en fin de journée nous a tous épuisés. Énormément de cordelle qui demande une agilité de chèvre de montagne pour pouvoir sauter de roche en roche dans la rivière. Nous sommes tous trempés. Les corps commencent à montrer signe d’usure, ampoules aux pieds, plaques au devant des jambes, etc. Les rapides sont d’une rare beauté, à vous couper le souffle. Nous sommes campés sur le versant gauche, sur un cap de roche. Ce fut notre but d’arrivé du dernier portage.




19 juillet

Fait 2 solides portages et deux petits en plus d’un portage paresseux (traîner le canot chargé par-dessus les roches). De très magnifiques chutes. Moins fatigués aujourd’hui. La rivière m’a encore demandé son tribut (un partiel dentaire et un briquet). Nous avons définitivement trop de nourriture. La végétation a changé. Énormément de cordelle à faire.





20 juillet

5 maudits portages, en plus de cordelle. Nous n’avons avancé que de 4 à 5 kilomètres. Quand la fatigue nous prend, on n’avance qu’un pas à la fois. Faut dire que ces portages sont très rapprochés et avec la chaleur et les mouches noires (elles sont apparues en légion). Ce fut une pénible journée.



21 juillet

Avons fait 2 portages sur une distance de 2 kilomètres. Nous avons traversé la gorge que l’on a baptisé « La porte de l’enfer ». Ceci a été notre plus dure journée. Nous avons eu de l’orage, de la pluie, des éclaires. La seule chose cocasse, étant le fait, que l'on était tous cachés sous la toile de Léonel en attendant que l’orage passe. On a bien rit, se racontant des farces.







22 juillet

Dix jours et nous n’avons fait que 100 kilomètres de rivière sur un total de 400 kilomètres. A ce rythme on n’y arrivera jamais. Nous sommes tous épuisés. Au bout de nos forces. Nous avons encore un portage d’un kilomètre et demi devant nous. Aujourd’hui, c’est la première fois que l’option d’être repêché par la GRC du Labrador fait surface. Elle fut rejetée en silence.

23 juillet

Eurêka ! Nous avons enfin retrouvé la beauté de la rivière, après un autre sacré portage. Nous jubilons. Nous voilà à l’embouchure de la Mascuamanga. Nous avons célébré au cointreau.

Comment expliquer nos portages? Et bien d'abord s’habiller, sauter à l’eau dans une piscine, se mettre une charge de 27 kilos sur le dos, se mettre en marche dans une forêt d’épinettes dense, infestée de mouche noires et de maringouins, et ce dans un terrain couvert de mousse trempées, qui cache de gros cailloux ronds, faire un kilomètre et par la suite recommencé jusqu’a cinq fois. On ne peut pas porter dans un même voyage, donc il y des allées retours. Ah oui! Y ajouter un orage de pluie.

24 juillet

Fini le dernier portage. Facile celui-là! Une descente libre sur une longueur de 170 km de rivière. Le moral est haut. Nous avons fait 40 km aujourd’hui. Nous sommes campés sur une lisière de sable. Enfin fini la mousse de caribou, tant humide. Avons trouvé des installations ou charpentes de tipis des Montagnais, lors de leurs expéditions de chasse.








L’on pense sérieusement de se faire sortir de la rivière par hydravion. Heureusement que nous avons apportés avec nous un téléphone satellite. Bien sur nos conjointes ne savent rien de notre périple autre que tout va à merveille. A ce rythme, nous allons manquer de nourriture et de ne sortir que mercredi prochain, soit dans huit jours. On verra bien!

Nous avons vu de belles falaises et la végétation a bien changé. Il y a des arbres de bouleaux, de trembles et de sapins baumiers, pas en grosses quantités cependant.

25 juillet

Nous avons empruntés !!! des morceaux de structures de tipis Montagnais (3 perches) et avons amarrés nos deux canots et fait de la voile. Nous étions debout à 9h30 UTC. A 16h00 UTC nous sommes en face du gros rocher que les Montagnais appel Machaoa-a-shini.






Nous étions tellement ambitionnés aujourd'hui, que nous avons pris notre dîner dans un des canots, en pleine voile. Nous avons parcouru 68 km. Beau site de campement sur une île. Nous prenons notre souper à 22h00 UTC.


26 juillet

Levée à 10h15 UTC. Espérant du vent ce matin. Il fait encore très frais, presque froid. Pas eut de vent favorable en avant-midi. Cet après-midi, remis la voile. Eut toute une bourrasque de vent et de pluie, un vrai "squall". Tout pris pour se ramener au bord.

Nous avons contacté Deraps via notre téléphone satellite pour voir s’il est possible de se faire sortir de la rivière. Possibilité de demain. Nous sommes trois jours de retard sur notre itinéraire. Nous avons donc eu à changer nos plans. Décidément la Natashquan nous en aura fait voir de toutes les couleurs. Avons même eu une tempête de sable sur la dune.

Il fait froid, 9 degré C. On est gelé. Nous sommes campés à la pointe de île. Coordonnées : zone 20, 0596943-5668018 ou 51 degré, 09’ Nord par 61 degré, 36’ Ouest.

27 juillet

Nous avons refait un appel à Deraps. Possibilité pour demain. Avons trouvé un site pour que notre hydravion puisse amerrir et de camping.





Léonard Deraps vient de passer en hydravion au dessus de notre campement. Il semble possible pour demain matin. Notre moral est à la hausse. Dernier relevé sur la rivière. Zone 20, 0591282-5632005.

28 juillet

Nous sommes debout depuis 10h00 UTC, à attendre l’hydravion qui doit arriver à 13h00 UTC. Beau soleil.





Une chose qui a fait le succès de cette expédition, a été notre esprit d’équipe. Nous savions que pour survivre, il nous fallait compter sur le groupe. Chaque geste individuel avait un impact sur l’ensemble. Le fait que nous avons gardé notre bonne humeur, malgré les embûches, la fatigue, les déceptions, fut primordial.





14h00 UTC, nous venons de nous envoler pour le retour à Natashquan. Quel soulagement !! Il nous restait 105 km de non complétés ou trois jours.

Amerrie à 14h00 UTC. Nous avons pris notre déjeuner/dîner au restaurant la Goélette.

Quelle coïncidence! Nous avons rencontré Gilles Vigneault à la quincaillerie Landry à Natashquan.

29 juillet

Départ de Sept-Îles à 11h00 UTC. Avons couché au Motel Mongan. Direction Godbout pour le traversier à 15h00 UTC. On a fini le voyage.

C’est tout un sentiment d’accomplissement que d’avoir participé à une telle expédition. Nous aurons augmenté les connaissances au sujet de la rivière Natashquan. Malgré les journées qui nous ont menées au bord de l’épuisement total, des embûches, il faut dire que je ne regrette rien et nous avons été privilégiés de pouvoir faire une telle expédition en région sauvage.



Claude G. Savoie