Day Three. Harkan River Sweden.

0600hrs. Awake. Looking out of the open end of our bivvy I could not only see but hear Mel. Indeed I suspect it might well have been her dulcet tones that brought me awake. Looking at my watch I was about to curse her when ‘God bless’ she passed into us a mug of hot tea. All was forgiven. Both Jackie and I lay there dozing until 0700hrs when we decided we ought to ‘show a leg’ to use that quaint nautical expression. The sun was starting to break through the tree canopy in places and it looked as though there might well be an improvement in the met. The wind was still blowing strong onto our position and coming off the water, it was cold. Mike donned his balaclava.

Breakfast for Mike consisted of a couple of UFO’s flattened and warmed against one of the hot rocks surrounding the fire. With some jam spread upon them and another mug of T, all was well.

Muesli and fresh milk was on offer as was coffee or a hot squash drink. The word was for a 1000hrs. move. Barrels were carried down to the waiting canoes, unused firewood stacked against a tree, ready for use by someone another day. The tripod was collapsed. Mike doused the fire and racked over the ashes with a big stick making a slurry of the embers which sizzled and spluttered with every drop of water poured from the kettle.

Mike and Jackie. Start of Day 2 on the river.

1010hrs. On the beach. Les and Mel are sat in the sun. She dozes whilst Les, as industrious as a beaver is carving tent pegs. Out to sea, well, on the lake, the wind has whipped the surface into a stampeding herd of white maned sea horses. Johan gives us the morning brief and states the wind is Beaufort Strength 5. We need to cross this lake at some point to the far shore to access our first portage at the dam at Hovdet. GR 4476.

Mike glances out. In a Klepper I would not have worried but as Jackie and I were novices in Canadians I did not feel overconfident. Perhaps I was not the only one looking apprehensive as Jay stated we would hug the lee of this North shore and work our way around to the dam. Safer, yes but a longer distance.

1045hrs. We set off. The wind and water conditions manageable in the lee. After a short while, following Johan I noticed we were gradually cutting a diagonal course towards the far shore.

Running before the wind!

1105hrs. “Raft up” shouts Johan. A mental image of the Raft of the Medusa sprang to mind and a shiver ran through me. The Medusa was a French naval frigate which ran aground off the coast of today's Mauritania on 2 July 1816. One hundred and forty-seven souls boarded a makeshift raft, thirteen days later only fifteen survived. What I wondered had this Swedish lake in store for us?

Within minutes all eight canoes had drawn alongside one another. Johan taking the outer port position and Jay and Lewis the starboard. To Mike’s left sat Les with Mel f’ard, to his left, Dave with Maisie up front. On Mike’s right I had Steve with young Casper up front. Neither seemed particularly concerned about this procedure.  Casper was busy running a fishing line out. Outside of these two we had Ben in rear with Rick up front. All holding each-others canoes at the gunwales and the sail now suspended from a paddle at either end we were, with the assistance of the front paddlers who were holding the bottom of the sail making 4.03 knots according to Dave’s app on his phone!

An image of Kirk Douglas in the 1958 film “The Vikings” came to mind. Incidentally not only did Douglas do many of his own stunts, especially the oar walking scene but the castle invasion sequences were shot at Fort de la Latte in north-east Brittany in France. Today a must visit if you are in that part of France.

Back to our sail. The huge DD tarp, some 4m square held out very well indeed given the pressure exerted upon it. I expected the corners to rip out but all held firm. We were running before the wind on a ‘Missouri boat ride’. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-KEnU9TBmQ

The bow position in each canoe had to hold onto the base of the sail which at times was quite demanding. Jackie being a canny lass used her carabiner attached to her BA to attach the sail.

As was the mast holders responsibility. All too often the wind would spill out of the sail and we would lose a degree of forward momentum but with the front positions carabineered on, we soon gathered in the sail and were off again.

The first and longest portage. At least the crew look happy.



Les with Dave in rear.

1200hrs. We landed at Hoydet Dam. GR 4476. A distance of some 6k had been covered with little or no energy used by most of us.

It was hoped that Jay and Johan could ‘run’ the gorge here with the canoes thus saving us the 2.5k long portage. Whilst the intrepid duo recce’d the state of the river with Lewis, we others unloaded the canoes, stacking the equipment to the side of the road then hauled the canoes up onto the road.

Hey guys, look this way!

Now sat in the sun, munching on herring, ‘pink toothpaste’, cheese, salami and disc cutters we awaited ‘the word’. This was a welcome, although short period of relaxation, sat in the sun on the grass, chatting.

The water level was deemed too low to paddle the gorge and so using the three sets of canoe wheels we managed the long uphill drag of the canoes on the road and then right onto a forest track and eventually back down to the water’s edge at a new ‘put in’.

Tim, mentally planning tonight's meal.

1425hrs. Whilst Jackie and Casper ‘guarded’ the canoes, we others returned to the dam for another trip. With a linear distance of 2.5k many walked, pushed or dragged at least 10k that early afternoon. Some of us covered more! The sun was out and it made a pleasant change both in the viewing environment and using different sets of muscles. I’m thinking this bloody portage! Tim’s probably mentally putting together, preparing and cooking tonight’s scran. Hard men these Kiwi’s.



 

Does my arse look big in this?

With all the canoes and kit transferred to the new put in we were rewarded with a quick brew. Jackie and Casper had not sat idle. Back into the river and paddle on. Rapids next.

1700-1715hrs. We negotiated our first set of Class 1-2 rapids. That was pretty good. No incidences.

1900-1915hrs. Second set of rapids. The format for negotiating rapids was that Johan would canoe on ahead and point out hidden obstructions, shallows, sunken logs etc. We were then required to follow on with a twenty metre spacing between boats using as far as possible his route. Fine in practice, until the river decides to throw you a curved ball.  We were one of the last canoes to run. The current had caught us and spun us around. Paddling like fury, we somehow managed to turn ourselves about again with the bow facing downstream. Barely in time, as now we had entered the Y and were in the channel. Things seemed to be going pretty well. That is, we had not capsized but everything was happening fast until suddenly we stopped. Impossible I thought and had to look at the bank to confirm we were indeed stopped. Dead bang in the middle of the river. We were rocking backwards and forwards on a huge boulder just slightly below the surface. A foot either side and we would have missed it. In an attempt to free ourselves we were paddling like crazy and dry humping the canoe. Nothing. We were jammed solid.

I had visions of me exiting the canoe and pushing/pulling it off. That didn’t seem that practical given the depth and current. Suddenly from behind came Jay’s voice “We will try and tow you off. Ready Lewis”. With that they appeared on our port side, travelling at a fair speed, Lewis manfully reached out, grabbed our bow and was almost pulled out of his canoe and into the water himself. The force was too great, they shot past.

Incredibly they managed to turn into the current and paddle back to us. How I do not know. Jay was shouting instructions but above the rush of water I could hear nothing until they drew closer. “Get up and crawl forward in the canoe towards Jackie” he shouted. “He’s lost it I thought”. Visions of me being unceremoniously dumped into the raging torrent entered my mind. “Go on Mike go for it”. It must have been at this point I realised that short of a helo extract we were going nowhere. Paddle in one hand ‘never let go of your paddle’ and the gunwale in the other I raised myself off the seat and as instructed threw my weight forcibly forward. Nothing. We held fast. “Again” someone yelled. I repeated the movement now with as much energy as I could muster. It had only been a few moments but the frantic paddling was taking its toll on us. I ‘humped’ forward a few more times. Jay shouted “She’s going”. Uncertain whether this was a reference to Jackie jumping ship or the canoe sinking, with that we slide off the boulder, quickly corrected the direction of travel and eventually, further downstream pulled clear of the rapids. That had been exciting. We were not the only victims that afternoon. Dave and Maisie also fell victim to this stretch of water.

 

2010hrs. Landfall. GR 4364. Some 9k to our South West lay the small town of Follinge. We put ashore on a shingle beach right beside a Vindskydd or ‘windbreak’. These are three sided open front wooden constructions. Used by fishermen and outdoors people such as ourselves. They vary in size but you can at least take cover from the elements should you so wish. The front is open and so, dependent on the wind direction and amount of smoke you are creating it may or may not be of use! Priority ! Get the fire lit and hot water on. Jay and Johan set about this and in minutes they had a healthy blaze going.

We were on a small promontory, in the shape of an inverted question mark, joined to the ‘mainland’ by a small track. We chose a sheltered spot in a small depression, out of the wind for our bivvy.

Mike was suddenly struck by a bad attack of ‘the malarial shakes’. The whole body, convulsing uncontrollably. It lasted hard for about 30 minutes and I was less than helpful erecting the bivvy. This task fell mainly upon Jackie’s shoulders. These attacks seem to manifest themselves every so often and soon pass. A good brew was needed.

2100hrs. The bivvy, now up, and a hot drink inside us, we can set about gathering wood or helping to prepare veggies for the evening meal which would undoubtedly be late this evening. It was growing dark and other members of the party started to appear from the forest, head torches announcing their immanent arrival, like fireflies at a campfire.

Dave, Mel and Jackie prepping the veg.

Maisie arrived, pretty in pink. It looked as though she was dressed for a disco. It’s nice to see someone is maintaining standards. I believe she felt suddenly rather self-conscious. It might have been the good natured ribbing she was receiving. I am uncertain whether it was that or the fact she was feeling cold but she disappeared back to her tent and changed. Re-appearing with a lovely warm blanket which she shared with Les, Mel and Jackie in the windbreak as soon as they had finished peeling the veg.

Steve, Dave, Les, Maisie, Mel and Jackie share Maisies blanket while they await dinner.

As the evening grew later certain members headed for their sacks. Once again the food, thanks to Tim’s skill was superb. The scran that evening was delicious. The wind, although it had dropped considerably was still blowing from the North and as such there was considerable smoke being blown around the cooking area and into the wind-hut. Jay had taken the sensible option as had Lewis and they had pitched their bivvy in rear of the wind hut. Not far away Mel and Les had pitched their tent.  Johan would opt to sleep in the shelter. All fine but that meant that he couldn’t really turn in till everyone else had done so. It was now very late and dinner was taken closer to midnight than I suspect any of us care to think about.

It was on the very rare occasions such as this that my heart went out to Tim. He had, like the remainder of the party, been paddling all day and landed at 2010hrs. He had then to transport all his hammock, top tarp and bergan to his chosen spot, erect it, set up for the night and then return to the cooking area in front of the wind hut to organise the evening meal. True there were always volunteers on hand to assist as directed but never the less, as we others in the party, including Jay and Johan to a certain extent, could start to relax for the evening, Tim still had a couple of hours work prepping our meal. He was, I firmly believe the unsung hero of the expedition. Apart that is, from your man Lewis this afternoon who had manfully attempted our rescue. To have retired before taking of Tim’s latest offering, would I believe, have done a great disservice to him.