Float your BOAT

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 14/10/2023 (774 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

‘Watch out! Shark!” a chap yelled from Winnipeg’s Disraeli Bridge.

That warning — likely a hoax — was the only voice we heard as my daughter, Cotelle, and I paddled northward on Winnipeg’s Red River from Taché Dock — a cheap getaway, close to home and a nap.

Cotelle’s canoe was made at Atikokan, Ont. I trusted it despite a ridiculous rumour I heard circulating out of Atikokan that the lubricant and rust remover called WD-40 cures joint pain. Unless it’s true. I should have tried it longer.

Her yellow vessel is made of Kevlar — used in bulletproof vests. Cotelle christened it “The Bulletproof Banana.” The canoe was on sale so I call it her sale boat.

We asked Margie to retrieve us in three hours at Dr. Slotin Park after paddling the best way: downstream. Even if backed by north winds, paddling against the Red’s unrelenting current can undermine one’s self-worth — like slogging the wrong way on airport moving walkways. I stopped that too — heck, months ago.

We floated away from land-anchored routines, yet we felt closer to the earth. While paddles disappear like stir-sticks in a double-double, the Red’s surface gloriously shifts between tan, silver, and sky-blue. Hey — where’s some red?

The journey reveals another side of Winnipeg. Buildings appear different. Some are newfound. The city seems taller, backward, inside-out.

Camps of unhoused people compel redoubled humanitarian efforts, but St. Boniface, Point Douglas, the North End, and Elmwood otherwise seem empty. The wide route appears foreign and wild, except for known bridges overhead. For chuckles, shout “Duck!” And when encountering a duck.

Among lush embankments of maples, willows, and elms, towering cottonwoods grace this parkway. They demand attention and awe. Exposed roots prove tenuous triumph against eroding waters. A cottonwood trunk straddling atop a 20-foot-high mid-river abutment reminded us of the Red’s springtime surge.

If families someday wonder where their deceased loved ones went from Elmwood Cemetery, erosion creeps a meter from headstones. If stores wonder where their shopping carts went, we found them. I exclaimed, “Winnipeg lobster traps!”

Traffic comprised just one Splash Dash tour boat and two motorboats. That’s when we got waves. Plus, we got waves — because Peggers, like others, wave amiably at total strangers in boats. How widespread is boat waving? I need a research grant and a dinghy.

At least one boat occupant waves. Either hand appears acceptable — with three back-and-forths. More would indicate a leak or open liquor. Boaters also wave at folks on land, signaling “I’m in a boat and you’re not.” But metres away on Winnipeg streets, unless they really know someone, Peggers never, ever wave.

Folks could better enjoy summers on hometown rivers. Despite the habitat for some of North America’s finest game fish, just four fishers cast lines. Fish only bite far from home, right?

As for pleasure cruises, remember the MS River Rouge, Paddlewheel Queen, and Paddlewheel Princess? The remains of the Alexander, Pritchard, Elmwood, and Redwood docks also tell a story.

Disuse of our rivers, including the Seine and La Salle, somehow happened in a city with a Portage Avenue, Ship Street, and Admiral Avenue. Plus, on Navy Way there’s a Naval Museum inside the HMCS Chippawa. HMCS means His Majesty’s Canadian Ship; tell them it’s a naval reserve building and might not float.

But opportunities abound. With boat clubs and public launches, Winnipeg also houses the Manitoba Canoe and Kayak Centre for lessons and dragon boat racing. Winnipeg Rowing Club offers lessons. Several businesses, like PegCity Marina, rent jet skis. Some rent SUP’s, fishing and pontoon boats. Others, like Winnipeg Canoe Rentals, rent — guess what?

Seasoned athletes, Jacques Marcoux and Taren Gesell, even swam Winnipeg’s Red in wetsuits. Not across it. Down it — from the south to the north Perimeter Highway. In eight hours, 18 minutes. And they’re OK. I’ve seen Jacques at his desk, doing the sidestroke.

The Bulletproof Banana took half our estimated time given the current. Eat-More bars remained in our lunch bag. Margie responded to our premature call while we celebrated with the Eat-Mores. WD-40 wouldn’t have hurt either.

Seeing the Splash Dash then lured me to its tour from The Forks. Margie and I cruised under Winnipeg’s surprisingly cavernous Norwood Bridges. Captain Ryan urged us to experience the resounding echo by singing. Inuit throat singers once performed so arrestingly that his boss chastised him for returning late. For us, a woman belted out, not Pontoon or Row, Row, Row Your Boat, but The Wheels on the Bus. Darn landlubbers.

We passed an Assiniboine River speed limit sign specifying 37 km/h. If Transport Canada wants to be so weird, why not 39¾?

As we approached the legislature on another tour, Captain Nick announced, “That’s where politicians pretend to work.” Ow. Nick’s humour improved when he explained, “The Golden Boy signifies youth and prosperity. Like me!”

Nick insisted that water traffic gets heavy on July weekends. When asked if he’s seen anything unusual, he replied, “A guy in a canoe — playing fiddle.” There’s hope.

He ended by noting a tip jar “…for a struggling guy” — no longer the prosperous Golden Boy. We contributed as thanks for another enjoyable outing on truly underrated rivers.

gordmackintosh9@gmail.com