JOURNEY #4 - June 21, 2002

Rideau River (Main to Carleton): "Getting Our Feet Wet"

Finally, our first day on the water after the long winter. Keenan's Navigator kayak was delayed in arriving so he rented a Storm from Trailheaded and we managed to get home from work and then onto the water by about 6:30.

We decided to check out the final portion of the Rideau River system, which is the area from Hog's Back Falls until it empties into the Ottawa River. We didn't cover this whole area, as we decided to launch from Old Ottawa South (between the Main Street bridge and the Bank Street Bridge) at the edge of Windsor Park. There is a nice grassy area just off Rideau River Road, so we found a parking spot, launched the boats, and decided to head south, against the current, which was surprisingly strong. We have since found out that the current on the Rideau normally moves at 5 cubic metres per second. This weekend it was moving at about 200!


Although the Rideau makes a number of long sweeping turns in this section, we will refer to the upstream direction (towards Carleton University) as south and the downstream direction as north, and refer to the each bank as east or west accordingly.

The water is probably the highest it has ever been by this, the first day of summer, which means the current is strong as well. Near the start of the trip we passed a woman in a small purple plastic kayak and exchanged pleasantries. She knew a thing or two about kayaking, and complimented us on the quality of our Werner paddles, which was nice to hear, since we agonized a bit about the investment.

As you approach the Bank Street bridge, the site of the original Billings settlement is on the east bank, where a small creek empties into the river, as well as some sort of storm sewer, which results in a rather surprising current if you stick close to the eastern shore.

By the time we neared the bridge, the current was fierce. The water appeared rather calm on the surface, but we had to paddle until our arms ached to get past the bridge and into the thick reeds that poke a foot or two out of the water and provide and opportunity to rest by strategically wedging your yak. This is the area just before the large park on the east bank that starts at the end of Data Centre Road and continues down past the RA Centre. Here the river is split as it moves around several low-lying reed and bush-covered islands, as well as a larger treed island that creates the channel on the eastern shoreline that runs along the edge of some lovely greenspace that is frequented by many vistors. More about that later, as we did not take it on our way south.

You pass a tennis club to the west as you approach the Bronson bridge, and here the river takes a bit of a swing to the east as it rounds the burm that separates it from the large enclosed pond to the west. The current started to build as we approached this bridge as well. We would end up spending some time under it, as it turned out. More on that later.

As you pass under the bridge, Carleton Campus starts to the west. There was a women's soccer game going on behind the scrub that provides the natural border for the practice field close to the bank. As we moved along next to the soccer field, which we could only identify by the sounds of the players, the current was very strong and the water was visibly choppy. We now had a clear view of the all-year rapids that pass under the railway bridge that is now used by the O-Train. The train passed once in each direction within the next couple of minutes.

These rapids are known as the Gloucester fault, according to the website of local kayaker William Watt. The rapids are caused by a break in the underlying limestone.

Julie lagged behind a bit as Keenan pushed on towards the rapids. The water was so high that the elevation drop that is usually so clearly visible at these rapids was quite obscured, taking on an appearance more reminiscent of rough waters in a wicked storm than a drop-off. Keenan decided to push up the east bank, despite difficult odds of advancing, partly because he spotted an interesting looking character leaning on the railing. Sure enough, he fought his way just a few feet short of the bridge and held his position by paddling furiously while chatting up a friendly beer-bellied fellow. They talked about the height of the water, and Keenan explained that he had the wrong kind of kayak for advancing through the rapids.

He decided to give it a try anyway, but as the water narrowed at the bridge, the current was overwhelming and pushed him out towards the middle and apparently heading back downstream. But suddently there was a suction effect because of the bridge support, and his kayak was sucked towards it, to the point of facing back upstream again. However, this did not last, as the kayak edged out into the middle channel and was quickly whipped around in a downstream direction.

The rapids were roaring here, and as the whipping motion continued, water sloshed over the bow of the kayak, and several litres also shot into Keenan's cockpit. He paddled hard on the upstream side of the kayak to complete the whipping motion more quickly and get the yak pointing downstream. It was rather exhilerating, and against Julie's advice (she was lingering in the middle channel within shouting distance) he decided to try it again.

After paddling furiously back up the eastern shore, he found his audience was still there, and beer-belly man agreed that it looked like fun the first time, just before Keenan allowed the yak to slide over in an attempt to repeat the manoevre. This time he was sucked even closer to the support, which meant entering into an even stronger area of rapids. The first wave slapped the side of the boat so hard that it rocked heavily to the downstream side, and as Keenan instinctively adjusted in the other direction, the kayak toppled over and he found himself in the water.

He managed to grab his kayak and still had his paddle when his PFD bobbed him back up, but an early attempt to clamber back up was abandoned. It is virtually impossible to simply climb back into a sea kayak, and totally impossible in the middle of a swift current.

Julie was quickly on the scene, but unfortunately Keenan was not expecting her quite to soon and ended up getting his left hand crushed a little by the tip of her boat, which she was offering up for additional flotation. After exchanging a few high-pitched communications, we began the process of figuring out what to do next. The cockpit was pretty full of water, and continuing to take on more as the waves lapped over the side. Adding to the challenge of it all, Keenan's PFD was too loose (lesson learned) and riding up over his face, thus adding to the struggle.

A flash of hilarity ensued when Keenan suddenly realized that he could stand on the bottom at this point. However, the celebration was short-lived, as the current made it impossible to stay put, and he slid downstream and back into deeper waters. We had travelled almost all the way back to Bronson at this point, where the current was a bit less, and we decided to try emptying the yak by placing it across the bow of Julie's boat, and flipping it. This was going to work just fine, but just to make things more interesting, the cover for the rear bulkhead came off (apparently not fastened properly at Trailhead, but nevertheless another lesson learned) which quickly took on a huge amount of water and made the water removal technique unusable.

It was now time for plan b. Or was it c? The bridge was coming up, and it was hoped that the supports could be used in some way. Of course, the current is strong alongside bridge supports, and Keenan had to lift up his feet and bounce off one of them at one point. But finally luck was on our side. One of the supports, although severely angled, had a small submerged ledge on which it was possible for Keenan to sit. He was able to haul the kayak out of the water and onto his thighs (ouch, it was well over 100 pounds with the water in it) and drain the bulkhead, replace the cover, and then drain the cockpit.

Getting back into the kayak would be another issue altogether. Even on land Keenan has a hard time getting in, so while floating in 15 feet of water, well, this would be something. Julie came alongside and by using both paddles and with Keenan's feet on the ledge, both kayaks remained in place, offering stability. After about three different approaches, he got a leg in, grabbed the rear of the cockpit, and somehow got everything inside. It was quite a happy moment.

Neither of us were the least bit deterred by the experience, and paddled happily on our way downstream. Keenan attempted to solicit sympathy by showing off his scraped wrist, but got little more than a smirk in return.

As we passed Brewer Park to the west we decided to try the little channel alongside the park, and it was a real treat. This is a lush area with gorgeous ferns, red-winged blackbirds, probably 100 ducks, white swans, cormorants, and even muskrats! Keenan saw the muskrats because he was nosy enough to ask a group of three bird-watching types what they were looking at. He also managed to work into the brief conversation the fact that he had capsized in the rapids.

We mostly drifted through this area, and near the end of the channel waved at the parents and little kids who were feeding the ducks and swans. We drifted past our original launch point and decided to continue downstream past the Main Street bridge. Here we encountered a couple in a rubber dingy who were enjoying a few beers and a smoke. That would be the biggest boat traffic we would encounter, which is one of the wondeful things about this section of the Rideau. With the Rideau Falls providing a dead end to the north, and Gloucester fault to the south, there's no boat traffice, except for those who live on the river or who launch a canoe, kayak, or other small craft.

This is a beautiful area, and it is hard to believe where you are in the city. With the lush trees that line the east bank, and the older homes with gorgeous backyard gardens on the west, it doesn't seem possible that Riverside Drive must be roaring by a few hundred metres to the east. But you can see the tops of the highrises, so you know you are in the city. But somehow that makes it even more fun.

Some of the backyards are pretty interesting. There were a couple of teenage girls playing around in a hot tub (Julie believes one of them flashed her) and a strange man who conversed with Keenan about the rain that had started to fall. Why a strange man? For whatever reason, he had waded into the Rideau up to his thighs to read the newspaper. And we are not talking a beach here. We are talking a rather weedy and possibly smelly shoreline. Ah well, nothing like some local colour.

We must have been getting pretty close to the Hurdman area when we made the decision to turn back and beat the darnkess. We headed back against the rather tame current, but were unable to exit at the same point as we had entered, because a family of ducks had settled into the exact spot, with about six babies who were already asleep. We found a small spot a few more metres upstream and exited one at a time. At this very spot there was a water marker next to the street, ranging from 1 to 6 feet, to measure the frequent floods in the area.

A rather charming fellow emerged from the house across the street at this point, with what appeared to be a glass of Bailey's and milk. It turns out is name is Harry Thompson and he has been in the house for 50 years. On more than a couple of occasions his house had been completely surrounded by water. He reminisced about the days where there was a functioning beach in the area, and we all hoped that one day it could be that way again. He also admired our kayaks, as he had never seen sea kayaks of this length (17 feet). Keenan of course found a way to mention his capsize, but Harry one-upped him with a story of when he capsized his canoe early in the season when there was still ice floating on the river.

Mr. Thompson made a promise to Keenan to try to remember his name, and Keenan joked that if anything happened on the river in future, he would scream "Harry, call 911." Julie continued to chat him up while Keenan pulled the van alongside, and as the rain started to come down and Harry headed for cover, we attached all the straps and drove off.