Day 38 - Sandbar Crash
Day 38
The day began hot once again. Running low on fuel for our stoves, we forewent the typical second cup of coffee. One the water the sun scorched our eyes and skin. I hopped out of the boat several times for a swim.
As evening approached we noticed the loud hum of a motor miles off. As it got closer, I tried to maneuver the canoe out of the path of the skiff, but it was headed dead toward us, and flying. Once close the motor died and a group of three leaned over the edge of the aluminum Allweld - “Whats up guys! Need a beer?”
Those were the exact words I was hoping to hear, but never expecting I would. With a few strokes of our canoe paddles we were tied off to the skiff with an ice cold Alaskan Brewing Freeride IPA in our hands. I don’t think I’ve ever had a beer taste so good.
Daniel, his wife Cassie and their friend Maureen welcomed us onto their boat. The three had planned to check out a blueberry patch a few dozen miles up river only to realize halfway through that they didn’t have enough gas to make it there and back. Running into us worked out, as Daniel cut the motor and drifted with the current to save gas. We drank beer and sipped Rich & Reserve whiskey as we talked, told stories and floated along as the orange and red sun dipped behind the mountains.
Daniel was a thing young man, maybe in his 30s, as was his wife, Cassie. Daniel did about 70% of the talking, while the other four of us chimed in from time to time. And that was great.
He told us stories of wolves and life in the bush. In the distance an Osprey wrung out its cry. At one point Steven loudly whistled at the gigantic bird and received a response call! We all thought that was really cool.
Daniel was also into rap and a self proclaimed hip-hop head. He was excited to head to L.A. in September for a Snoop dogg, Bonethugs and Cypress hill concert. He recommended we check out a rapper called K-rino. All five of us enjoyed the evening in each others company. Daniel hopped in our canoe and drifted out from the skiff for a bit to get a feel what it’s like to be in our shoes. He got a kick out of that.
After several hours of floating and enjoying ourselves Daniel fired up the motor and told us to load our canoe onto the front end of his skiff - he would drive us the last fifteen miles to the village of Galena. The bow of the skiff was about twelve or so feet long. Our sixteen foot canoe sat diagonal in the bow, with all of our gear loaded separately onto the floor of the skiff. It has just gotten to be dusk, and as the engine fired up we were all feeling good with what Daniel called an “attitude adjustment” - beer and whiskey.
As we fired off down river Jackson and I held onto the canoe that hung halfway out of the boat. Cruising 40mph in the middle of the Yukon river, Jackson blurts out “Sandbar!! Sandbar!!!!”. I look over the bow and instinctually grab our gear with one hand and the canoe with my other, bracing for impact. A massive bang sounded off as the front end of the skiff jumped onto the sandbar beach. Our canoe flew out of the boat and crashed into land. Jackson and I both flew forward on the impact and slammed across the front railing of the boat. I looked back to see Daniel, Cassie and Maureen all O.K. Daniel was profusely apologizing to the ladies. “I’m so sorry Maureen.”
We got out of the boat and assed the damage. Motor was good and the boat seemed fine, other than being completely beached. The next two hours were spent pulling, pushing, heaving and whatever other method we could think of the get the Allweld unlogged and back in the water. Daniel snapped his oar multiple times trying to wedge the hull of the boat up and get water and air flowing underneath it. With several “1….2…3” heaves we eventually worked the boat bow free and soon after, the stern. Daniel invited us to reload and get to Galena. As he offered, I looked back at his wife Cassie and caught her giving Daniel one of those looks that only a wife can. The look of “are you freaking kidding me? I’ll go along wit it, but i’m not happy about it.” Figuring we didn’t need to get him in any more trouble than he was already in, we offered to stay on the sandbar, and to Cassie’s relief, he agreed.
We said our goodbyes and pushed the three out into the main channel. The two stroke 90HP motor fired up and in an instant blew down river, leaving behind Jackson and I with a load of gear thrown out of a flying skiff, alone, on a small wet sandbar. We called it a night and set up tents, forgoing dinner for some sleep and refuge from the Alaskan mosquitos.
Great day, ended in an odd way. I have to say, we’re quite lucky no one got hurt and we still had all of our gear. Engine open full bore on a 90HP to a dead stop after crashing into a sandbar is a recipe for disaster. Luckily for us, we managed to make it out unscathed. All's well that ends well. Even in an Allweld.
Wild night, good people, amazing place. Life on the river is rarely dull.