Rediscovering the Canoe

John Curran | Jun 10, 2020

The summer of 2020 will be remembered for many things not the least of which will be the globally shared experience of the COVID-19 pandemic and the new normal we are learning to face on an almost daily basis. At the same time, what will all this new public debt mean going forward?

We are also perhaps witnessing the long overdue reckoning for those who continue to judge others based on the colour of their skin. Black lives matter in Canada, but our Prime Minister can’t tell us how many times he’s worn blackface. It’s clear we still have a lot of talking and listening to do as a nation. At the same time blue lives matter. How do we ensure public order and the safety of those delivering essential services when law enforcement isn’t given a clear mandate on how to do its job?

The changes resulting from these historic societal moments will be felt for generations. For me, this spring feels like it is moving in slow motion. Jobs aren’t being done – for the public good. We are, in many cases, being paid to sit at home. This means free time and the need to make the most of it or lose it forever.

For these reasons this will also be the year I rediscover the canoe.

No that wasn’t a typo – I meant canoe and not kayak. It seems you can’t go anywhere in Canada without seeing one of these Inuit-styled skiffs. Your favourite fishing hole; waterfront parks in the city; on top of the car in front of you in the drive thru line; kayaks are hotter than the Arctic at this point.

For anyone over 40, however, I guarantee you a more comfortable voyage in a canoe. It’s easier to get in and out and your knees and back won’t face the same stresses. Further, your lower body isn’t encased in a wet plastic tube along with every spider, ant, and hairy-legged creepy-crawly that finds its way into your boat when it’s not in use.

In a pinch, a canoe can carry more than two passengers. Most kayaks carry just one and if you can pinch more than an inch like me, even that can be a little touch and go.

Finally, I like to fish. Strike than, live to fish. By virtue of its open design the canoe is far superior in terms of functionality as an angling platform.

When my wife and I, new residents of Buck Lake fresh off the heels of 17 years in Yellowknife, NT, decided to get a canoe we opted to invest in a new one rather than buying someone else’s leaks, scratches and structural stresses. To our delight we found a new Explorer model that came equipped with folding plastic seats, rod and cup holders, and even a small bit of storage under the middle seat ideal for safety gear and a picnic lunch. Canoes have come a long way!

It has been amazing dusting off my J- and C-strokes as well as my draws and pries … once you learn these skills they never really go away completely.

There is a reason the canoe was the backbone of our nation in its infancy, it is the ideal vehicle for wild Canada. But it’s more than that nowadays, it’s a time machine. Paddling around Birch Island I’m suddenly 15 again and enjoying a week and a half of solitude in Algonquin Park. Now I’m six and rediscovering all of the spots that made me fall in love with fishing in the first place. I’m my late Uncle George, every morning paddling to mainland before driving to work so my cousins could spend the summer at the cottage instead of in town. I am my long-deceased Grandfather Art Graves getting to know Buck Lake in the 1930s when our family first bought land on the South Arm. (Almost 90 years later, combined we now hold title to 11 waterfront lots all over Buck.) I am Tom Thomson floating by the Jackpine. I am generations of Indigenous Canadians who relied on their canoes for so many necessities.

As we plot a fresh course in this Brave New World together, let’s not forget to keep a few connections to our past. Rediscover the canoe for yourself, you can’t deny the physical benefits and the spiritual lift it’ll give you might surprise, especially during this time when everything is still dark and throbbing.

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