Ever heard of an alpine departure? I can guess your answer… Our young friends had never heard of it either. Now they know what it entails…
Sea kayaking in a maritime environment (as in “salt water” and “tides”) comes with its fair share of challenges. The ambient temperature, the water temperature, the sea currents, the reefs, the inhospitable shores, the tides and many other elements can bring about difficulties for the paddles, be the beginners or experts. Most of all, the wind can have a major impact on our travels or their feasibility. Faced with the possibility of strong winds, the paddlers have two choices. One of them is the so-called ‘alpine departure’, an expression used by highlanders who wake up at 2 AM to be on their way by 3 AM to benefit from the frozen surfaces and with a maximum of light at night to travel over the glaciers.
You will have guessed there are very few glaciers on the Mingan Islands. On the other hand, we could be fighting head winds… That is why we must leave our campsite early before the eastern winds come up to impede if not render impossible our progression. That is why the rooster crowed around 4 AM at the camp. Half awake, we must roll up our mattresses, our sleeping bags and our tents, have a snack and launch our boats. Like the ‘coureurs des bois’, we will paddle for a good hour and a half before breakfast. (And our sincere thanks to island’s mosquito colony for getting up early to bid us goodbye.)
The crossing from our campsite on Niapiskau Island to Phantom Island was… magical, majestic, and magnificent! First and foremost, we paddle on a very calm see (something we haven’t been privileged to do until now); the clouds reflect on the water, not to mention our own reflection and the pastel shades of the sunrise. As we come around the first point, a porpoise shows up and treats us to his morning ballet. A few paddle strokes later, a family of some ten young cormorants shows the way, followed by a flock of Black Guillemots. Here and there some gulls fly by, obviously looking for their breakfast of fish (one is given to understand that like Virginie, the gulls are on Palaeolithic mode). But, the best was still to come…
Pchhhoouuuuhhhh… No?…Can’t be!… Silence and amazement… Pchhhoouuuuhhhh… Yesssss!! The typical sound of a fin whale! Where is it? Where? It just dove… Where will it surface next? To the left, the right, behind, in front of us?…IN FRONT!!!! RIGHT THERE! STRAIGHT AHEAD! Twenty metres away, at most! What a show! It is there, to our exclusive benefit, in our modest kayaks alongside this 30 tonnes behemoth!Generous by nature, this whale will gratify us with three passes that generate stupor, dismay, and admiration. We are overwhelmed… and to top it all, we’re also treated to a concert by the aptly names harp seals. This was a unique and thrilling experience for us, early rising adventurers.
All this emotion makes us hungry. We land on Phantom Island. After hearing the howling of the harp seals, we can understand why this place was so named… Émile, who never in his fourteen year has used a lighter, lit the fire on his own. His eyes were ablaze with pride! Time for fruit and oats, a short rest (not so short), and we’re off again. It is not quite 10 AM and a rather soft wind seems to rise.
Our crossing to Île du Havre (Harbour Island) is a cinch, but our convoy is stretching… Obviously the effects of the short night’s sleep… We multiply the pauses… We’re falling behind in our schedule… And the winds are getting stronger… Sure enough, we’ve reached the Western side of Île du Havre but we still have to come around to our campsite on the Eastern side of the island. Our shortest route would take us to the South around “pointe Enragée” (Mad point). The very bad winds in these parts no doubt contributed to the naming of the point… Despite the late hour, we opted to take to northern route, longer but more strategic given the wind is getting stronger and stronger. Even at that, we were pretty roughed up as we crossed “cap au Corbeau” (Raven cape) at the north eastern end of the island. Huge triangular waves await us, created by the winds, the currents and the tide. A tough stretch, but we made it!
All that remains for us to do is to land (in the surf!) at our campsite, one of the nicest sites I’ve seen in a long time. There is a pebble beach, a very strong surf, a fresh water stream with its cascades rushing down the moss-covered stones, a sheltered galley as you can only find in the finest sugar shacks, wonderful platform tents, and a panoramic view all the way to the Petite Île au Marteau lighthouse. We told the youngsters they could take a nap in their tents if they so wish after a 15 km day, with 9 hours at sea. No way, most of them prefer a game of Loup-garou. So much energy on their part… Me, I had to dig deep in the ziplog tea bag many times to write this blog!
P.S.Thanks for your wonderful comments about the blog. Much appreciated. Parents and friends don’t hesitate to send us your comments which we will relay to the group!