June 20, 1793. Our Crazy Canoe

June 20, 1793.  Day 43.

      “The morning was foggy, and at half past four we proceeded...the fog was so thick, that we could not see the length of our canoe, which rendered our progress dangerous...we perceived two red deer at the very edge of the water; we killed one of them and wounded the other...They are not so large as the elk of the Peace River, but are the real red deer, which I never saw in the North…we now got the venison onboard, and continued our voyage…”

“...when we landed at a deserted house, which was the only Indian habitation of this kind that I had seen on this side of Mechilimakina (Lake Huron). It was about thirty feet long and twenty wide, with three doors, three feet high by one foot and a half in breadth...There were also three fireplaces, at equal distances from each other; and the beds were on either side of them...The roof was supported by a ridge pole, resting on two upright forks of about ten feet high…” He has come across ancient native fishing and hunting sites and habitations, but no one is home. 

       “...a large machine...of a cylindrical form, fifteen feet long, and four and a half feet in diameter; one end was square, like the head of a cask, and an (sic) conical was fixed inwards to the other end...at the extremity of which was an opening of about seven inches in diameter. This machine was certainly contrived to set in the river, to catch large fish…It was made of long pieces of split wood, rounded to the size of a small finger…”  I would certainly like to see a picture of this wonderful fish catching machine.

     It’s too bad he never got to see the inhabitants of the “deserted house” on this day. They might have saved him some valuable time and energy by telling him that he was actually near the entrance to the Nuxalk-Carrier Grease Trail, the historic route which he will later need to take, in order to reach the Ocean. Ancestors of the Ulkatcho, Lhoosk’uz Dené, Nazko, Red Bluff and Nuxalk band members developed and used this trail system thousands of years before Mackenzie arrived in their territory. 

     

     “Our canoe was now become so crazy that it was a matter of absolute necessity to construct another; we landed at eight (a.m) with the hope of procuring it (birch-bark)...at twelve they returned with a sufficient quantity to make the bottom of a canoe of five fathom in length...At noon I had an observation, which gave me 53.17.28 North latitude.  At this latitude, the Blackwater River joins the Fraser. He continues on downstream.

     “Where the cliffs of white and red clay appeared like the ruins of ancient castles...we landed in a storm of rain and thunder...” The white and red “clay” riverbanks that he saw, are on the left side of the river while going downstream through the present day site of Quesnel, B.C. The camp of this day I reckon was on a point of land or an island, about two miles upstream from the present day walking bridge in downtown Quesnel. 

Picture 2. The colours of the local formations can easily be seen in the weathered formations at Pinnacles Provincial Park, just outside Quesnel, B.C.

June 19, 1793. Wild Onions.

     “The morning was foggy, and at three we were on the water...a small river flowing in from the right…” The Nechako River. This morning he passed by the future sites of Fort George, and through the present day location of the city of Prince George. At about eight they reached the rapids above the  Fort George Canyon, (today a provincial park) and found themselves carrying again.

Picture 1. Fort George Canyon today. Photo by lepetergmail 

     It's a repeating story the entire trip; the canoe is broken, then fixed, then broken, then patched again and again. The canoe by now was, “...carried with great difficulty; as from her frequent repairs, and not always of the usual materials, her weight was such, that she cracked and broke on the shoulders of the men who bore her. The labour and fatigue of this undertaking, from eight till twelve, beggars all description...here I took a median altitude which gave me 53.42.20 North latitude.” Again, very accurate latitude reckoning on his part, as that location pinpoints just above the canyon, where the “great body of water, at the same time tumbling in successive cascades...rolls through this narrow passage in a very turbid current, and full of whirlpools.” 

     A large part of today's journal entry describes (first) contact. As I said before, it is beyond me or the scope of this blog to describe or quote from these entries. Interested readers should read the journals and other writings for themselves in order to develop a better understanding of that topic.  

     “On the banks of the river there was great plenty of wild onions, which when mixed up with our pemmican was a great improvement of it…”

Picture 2. Wild Onions. Photo by Hank Shaw. 

“At half past seven we landed for the night, where a small river flowed in from the right...The banks were overshadowed by lofty firs, and wide-spreading cedars.” 

His camp of this day was likely on a river island, about 3 ½ miles NW of the present day community of Hixon, B.C.

June 18, 1793. White Ducks.

June 18, 1793. Day 41.

Excerpts from the Journal of Alexander MacKenzie on this day, 227 years ago.

      “It rained throughout the night and till seven in the morning; nor was I sorry that the weather gave me an excuse for indulging my people with that additional rest…Before eight, however, we were on the water, and driven by a strong current…”

What a difference a day makes.

Sleeping in, and paddling downstream. Finally. 

     They have made at least 40 river miles down the MacGregor, which is a big change from only making 2 or 3 miles progress in a day. It’s really paid off because they have finally reached “the great fork”, where this river meets the one we know today as the Fraser. Smooth sailing ahead, and downstream in a fast current.  “The current now was very strong, but perfectly safe…”   

          “Here was the great fork, of which our guide had informed us, and it appeared to be the largest branch from the South-East. It is about half a mile in breadth...we steered West, and sounded in 16 feet water.”

     Following the course of the river down, he has passed by the future site of Huble Homestead. Ironically, at this point the Fraser is only a few miles overland from Summit Lake; which is also the Divide of the waters to Arctic and Pacific. Simon Fraser, and all future explorers and gold-seekers will cross over this ancient native Portage; they will enter or leave the river here. The Lhedli T'enneh first named the trail Lhedesti. Today the 8.5 kilometre trail is called the Giscome Heritage Trail. If MacKenzie had only known, he could have saved a week or ten days of precious time and eliminated the many tortuous miles of the terrible route they have endured over the past few days.

     “Where a small river flowed in on the right; South-West by South...South-West by West...here we landed for the night.” 

The “river that flowed in on the right” is the Salmon River.

     “When we passed the last river we observed smoke rising from it...I therefore concluded that there were natives on its banks; but I was unwilling to fatigue my people, by pulling back against the current in order to go in search of them...we saw a flock of ducks which were entirely white, except the bill and parts of the wings.”

The encampment of this day I reckon was about about 4 river miles downstream from the mouth of the Salmon River, and they have made a total of about 80 river miles on this day.

June 17, 1793. Inexpressible Satisfaction.

June 17, 1793, Monday. (Day 40) 

Excerpts from the journal of Alexander MacKenzie on this day of his epic Voyage of Discovery, to the Pacific Ocean.

     “Having sat up till twelve last night, which had been my constant practice since we had taken our present guide, I awoke Mr. McKay to watch him in turn. I then laid down to rest, and at three I was awakened to be informed that he had deserted...This misfortune did not produce any relaxation in our exertions...At an early hour of the morning we were all employed in cutting a passage...In short, we pursued...by land and water, till noon, when we could proceed no further, from the various small unnavigable channels into which the river branched in every direction…”

Picture 1. Google Earth image showing the “various small unnavigable channels” they encountered in the lower part of the James (Bad) River. Looks the same today.

“This journey was...through a continued swamp, where, in many places, we waded up to the middle of our thighs... It was eight in the evening when we arrived at the bank of the great river.” Finally they have reached the MacGregor River, which is a great river to navigate. They are now very close to the really great river, which we know today as The Fraser.

Picture 2. On the bank of the MacGregor River. 1976 Photo by Faulkner. 

     “At length we enjoyed, after all our toil and anxiety, the inexpressible satisfaction of finding ourselves on the bank of a navigable river, on the West side of the first great range of mountains.”

June 16, 1793. Our Dog.

June 16, 1793. (Day 39) . 227 Years Ago, To-day.

     

“The fine weather continued, and we began our work, as we had done the preceding day; some were occupied in opening a road, others were carrying, and the rest employed in conducting the canoe.”

“I...ordered Mr. MacKay...to penetrate to the great river.” Of course he doesn’t know yet that the “great river” he is anticipating and soon coming to, is actually the MacGregor River. It is quite large and a navigable river, but not as “great” as the Fraser that it will also soon meet. 

Picture 1. Top of image is N. They are coming down from upper left, to the Low, Swampy Country at centre. The MacGregor flows in from the top right.

     “Almost impenetrable wood..., our dog, which was following them, fell in, and it was with great difficulty that he was saved…”

     Our dog. Although he doesn’t mention the dog every day, and has never bothered to name it, it certainly has a role to play in this expedition and would have been sorely missed had it drowned. Anyone who would like to find out more about “our dog” could read this book, “A Dog Came Too”, by Ainslie Manson.  http://ainsliemanson.ca/a-dog-came-too/ 

Mr. MacKay and the men who went ahead to scout the path were always on the lookout for game, and anything they could shoot or catch was a welcome addition to the kettle.  

Picture 2. A smaller size Fur Trade Brass Kettle, 18th Century.

   

      “They brought with them two geese, which had been shot in the course of their expedition. To add to our perplexities and embarassments, we were persecuted by mosquitoes and sandf-flies, through the whole of the day.”

     Imagine camping in these deep woods without your Off!     

     “The extent of our journey was not more than two miles South-East; and so much fatigue and pain had been suffered...murmurs prevailed among them, of which, however, I took no notice.”

     Everyone is just sick and tired of trying to get down this bad river. And as if the bugs and excessive toil weren’t problem enough; “Excessive heat prevailed throughout the day.” 

      Freezing one day, overheating the next.

     “When we were assembled for the night, I gave each of them a dram, and in a short time they retired to the respose which they so much required.”

June 15, 1793. Absolute Disobedience.

June 15, 1793. (Day 38) 227 Years Ago To-day. Excerpts from the Journals of Alexander MacKenzie’s epic Voyage of Discovery to the Pacific Ocean. 

     “The weather continued the same as the preceding day, and...my people began at a very early hour to open a road...so that after fourteen hours (of)  hard labour we had not made more than three miles.”

     Picture 1. Google Earth image showing the valley they must descend.

“Our course was South-East by East, and as we had not met with any accident, the men appeared to feel a renewed courage to continue their voyage. In the morning, however, one of the crew...refused to embark in the canoe. This being the first example of absolute disobedience which had yet appeared during the course of our expedition…” 

     As with any leader on any ship, he relies on everyone in the brigade to follow his orders no matter what. Anything else could risk everyone’s life and put the mission itself in jeopardy. He chooses a simple management style in order to deal with the obstinate Beauchamp.  “I preferred to represent him as an object of ridicule and contempt for his pusillanimous behaviour; though in fact, he was a very useful, active, and laborious man.” 

     Three miles or more made today, with most of the crew carrying the lading and clearing the road through awful forest and deadfall. Four men lining the lightened canoe down past the “rafts of driftwood, and fallen trees” and the “shoals and rapids” of this bad river. 

     “At the close of the day we assembled round a blazing fire; and the whole party, being enlivened with the usual beverage which I supplied on these occasions, forgot their fatigues and apprehensions; nor did they fail to anticipate the pleasure they should enjoy in getting clear of these present difficulties, and (to) gliding onwards with a strong and steady stream, which our guide had described as the characteristic of the large river we soon expected to enter.”

Once they are clear of this steep and treacherous bad mountain river, (Picture 1) they will enter what is now known as the MacGregor River, a tributary of the Fraser.

June 14, 1793. Log Jams & Beaver Dams.

June 14, 1793. 227 Years Ago, To-day. (Day 37). Excerpts from the Journals of Alexander MacKenzie on his Voyage of Discovery to The Pacific Ocean. 

     “The weather was fine, clear and warm, and at an early hour of the morning we resumed our repair of the canoe...At half past seven our two men returned hungry and cold...not having tasted food...for twenty-four hours, with their clothes torn into tatters, and their skin lacerated, in passing through the woods...they were of the opinion that from the frequent obstructions on this river, we should have to carry the whole way...through a dreadful country...much time and labour would be required…”

     He has just realized that this small river is so plugged with log jams and beaver dams that it won’t be worth the effort required to canoe it. In 1993, on the 200th anniversary of this epic voyage, The Lakehead University Expedition retraced this journey using two modern canoes. They found the same result 200 years later: “The two days spent traversing this 17 km section was quite intense and dangerous, with constant portaging and lining.”

“we were engaged...repairing the canoe; and this work we contrived to complete by the conclusion of the day. The bark...with some pieces of oilcloth, and plenty of gum, enabled us to put our shattered vessel in a condition to answer our present purposes.”

This canoe has been repaired so many times already, and it gets heavier each time it is gummed or when more pieces are added to it. 

Picture 1 & 2. A modern day crew making repairs to a large birch-bark canoe. 

      “The guide, who has been mentioned as manifesting continual signs of dissatisfaction, now assumed an air of contentment...I attributed to a smoke that was visible in the direction of the river; as he naturally expected, if we should fall in with any natives...that he should be released from a service which he found so irksome and full of danger.”  The native guide wants to go home; he really doesn’t want to go down this horrible mess of a river, and feels that his job is done, after having shown MacKenzie the way through the chain of lakes and over the divide. 

Once again, his latitude reckonings are very close to his actual location. 

“I had an observation at noon, which made our latitude 54.23.48 North…”

 Picture 3. An 18th century Ramsden Sextant. Mackenzie’s was probably similar.