It (Sometimes) Takes Two
Part 1 — Carrying a Canoe
By Tamia Nelson
tamia@paddling.net
June 6, 2006
Summer's come to the northern hemisphere at
last, and many paddlers are eager to make the most of the long days. But
long days on the water often mean long portages, and while portaging
isn't exactly a life sentence, it almost always means hard labor. And
hauling the boat is the hardest labor of all. Wheeled
carts and good
yokes make the job easier, to be sure, but wheels can't be used
everywhere and no yoke will lighten the load by so much as an ounce. What's
the solution, then? It's simpler than you might think. Don't go it alone.
Share the burden with your partner, instead. A load shared is a load
halved, after all. That ought to lighten each step you take down the trail!
This clashes with the "hard man, iron woman" school of backcountry
literature, of course, but it really isn't a radical idea. It's as old as
the voyageurs, if not much older. True, portaging a boat is usually a solo
affair, but even iron women (and hard men) often find themselves wishing
for a second pair of hands — not to mention a second back to lighten
the load. The reasons are many and varied. Fatigue. Injury. Advancing
years. Steep grades. Boggy, stony, or deadfall-littered trails. And you
can't argue with arithmetic. Suppose your boat weighs in at 80 pounds. This
isn't too much for a reasonably fit paddler to haul over a well-maintained
path, particularly if her boat boasts a yoke. At least it isn't too much
at first. But the burden grows heavier as the portage lengthens and
the hills grow steeper. Luckily, though, you don't have to suffer in
silence. Sharing the load with your partner cuts it down to size: 40 pounds
rides a lot lighter on the shoulders than 80, doesn't it?
Still, doubling up isn't quite as simple as it seems, and there are a
few drawbacks to consider, too. Different boats demand different strokes,
for one thing. So this time out I'll limit myself to canoes. Kayaks and
sit-on-tops will have to wait till next week.
OK. Sharing the load can make almost any portage seem shorter. But
safety first. Some shortcuts only lead you into trouble. They're…
False Friends
It's hard to resist the temptation to leave your packs and
gear in your boat when you have an extra pair of hands helping you
across a short portage, particularly if the boat in question is a "tin tank" or
molded from one of the nearly indestructible thermoplastics. And sometimes
— just sometimes — you can get away with it. But remember this:
boats can carry as much as they do only because the water
buoys them up. On land, away from the cradling waves, they're
surprisingly vulnerable. Grab loops, decks, and gunwales aren't designed to
support heavy, suspended loads, and neither are most folks' shoulders. So
ponder long and hard before you haul a heavily loaded boat over even a
short carry. If you think it takes a long time to remove and stow your
gear, how long do you think it will take to replace a deck, let alone a
shoulder?
Of course some things can be carried safely inside your boat.
Paddles, life
jackets, a canoe
pole, light rucksacks
, sleeping
pads — such items add almost nothing to the overall weight and
pose no risk to hull or hardware. But the rest of your gear should travel
on its own. Ease the burden on yourself, too. Closed-cell foam can be used
to pad yokes and thwarts, and pipe insulation is made to order for gunwales
and paddle shafts. Horse-collar (Type II) PFDs also make good pads for
improvised yokes. In fact, they make better pads than they do PFDs.
(Never use your primary PFD as a portage pad.)
The preceding paragraphs emphasize one of the paradoxes of portaging.
Right side up, a canoe out of water is a handy basket — a basket
that's far too easy to overfill. Upside down, however, the basket becomes a
burden to be carried on your shoulders, and anything in it must be secured
before you head down the trail. Each approach has merit. Let's begin
with…
Lift and Go
If the distance is short, the way obstructed, or the footing uncertain,
this is probably the best way to negotiate a portage. Bearing in mind what
I said about false friends, however, unload all but the lightest odds and
ends of your gear before you start. When that's done, one person takes up
position next to the bow, while the other stands near the stern, on the
opposite side of the boat from her companion. Hold onto a grab loop,
toggle, deck, or gunwale. Then lift the boat up and scuttle off. It's easy
to describe, but not so easy to manage in practice. You'll almost certainly
find yourself taking baby steps, and your arm will grow heavier by the
minute. It won't be long before you're ready for a break. (That's easy to
do, at least. Just set the boat down — carefully.) If the trail is
wide and free from obstacles, you can also try walking side by side,
carrying the boat between you. But you'll want to be sure the load (if any)
is in balance first.
What if the road ahead is a long one, however? Then you may decide
to…
Shoulder Your Load
This can be done at any time along the trail, whenever the mood strikes
or your hands cry out for relief. Just lift the boat up and place the keel
on your shoulder, while you partner does the same at his end. (A hint:
Announce your intention to shoulder the load well in advance of making your
move.) Now cradle the boat in your nearside arms. Since you'll still be on
opposite sides, the load should rest easy. With a little practice you'll
even be able to lift the boat to your shoulders on the march without
missing a step. Better yet, you'll be following in the
footsteps of the voyageurs. They portaged their North Canoes just this
way. But be warned — if your shoulders aren't well upholstered,
they'll soon protest. When the pain gets too much to bear, it's time for
Plan B.
And what's that, exactly? Carrying your boat upside down, of course.
This is the way the voyageurs got their 36-foot, 600-pound canots de
maître across the killer portages of the Montrealers' mainline. It
can work for you, too, though you'll want to experiment a bit at home
first. The bowman will probably find it best to balance a gunwale on one
shoulder. He can serve as guide. The sternman, on the other hand, will most
likely prefer to rest the rear deck, rear seat, or rear thwart on a pad
behind her neck. A paddle
yoke may take some of the sting out of the load, but she must always be prepared to throw off her burden in an
instant if her partner stumbles. She'll also find that the
narrow confines of the small end of the boat grow mighty stuffy after a few
minutes. So on long portages it makes sense to swap ends from time to time.
It's also imperative that the sternman matches her partner's pace. Good
communication is essential here.
Stuffy or not, though, sharing the burden beats muscling a heavy boat
across a portage alone. At trail's end — and all trails will end
sooner or later — give yourself a few minutes to rest and regroup
before heading back for the gear. Catch your breath, listen to the
birds, and drink
deep from your
canteen while congratulating yourself and your partner on a job well
done. You might even want to sing a few bars of "A la Claire Fontaine."
Portaging doesn't have to mean solitary confinement under an overturned
canoe. There are many times when it makes sense to double up and share the burden,
whatever kind of boat you favor. The good news? Owners of kayaks and
sit-on-tops can lighten their loads, too. Join me next week as I explore
the ways.
Copyright © 2006 by Verloren Hoop Productions. All rights
reserved.