Convergence

I hit the wake and with it the monstrously strong river current hit hard, immediately the intense force pushed the bow of my kayak down stream. I had no way to fight the current in the wake so I paddled with all my might towards the shore line a mile away; all the time I was being carried further and further down a river from which there is no return. As I paddled toward the opposite shore I noticed that the river current strength became less intense, so with less river current opposition, I was able to turn my kayak up river and continue to paddle in a current that ran a little slower than the more powerful current near the island. I looked out over the great expanse of brown waters to a sky with high broken clouds. Far in the distance the shore line of forests were visible; it was tempting to consider these areas as a place of escape from the constantly moving ocean about me. However, I knew all too well that what appeared simply as a lake to be crossed was in reality a vast body of water with invisible currents some of which ran peacefully slow yet other running at speeds of school yard traffic just waiting to take be far beyond any hope. Turing back to look over toward the island I had recently left finding it at a distance several hundred feet away, I was making a small bit of head way up river and the island was soon off my left side slowly dropping behind as I made sluggish headway up stream. After a battle made easier with a lighter kayak, I had regained the down river distance lost by the initial impact of the current wake near the lead edge of the island.

Taking advantage of the slower current, I made way up river far enough to reach the central branch of the main glacial river. I looked back and saw how the main river was split by the little island into the huge mile wide river to the south and the smaller fifty foot river to the north of the island; however, my ability to view this vantage point was costing me a lot of energy as I had to continue to paddle up river to survey a destination. I had to make a decision as to which way I was going to go and I certainly knew it was not down the mile wide south river; this left the smaller northern river next to the island as the only choice because it gave me possible access to river banks that were separated by only fifty feet. According to the satellite maps, there was suppose to be a smaller river on the south side of the island where the waters were blocked from passing by a raised sand bar making for a small inlet, but the risk of going down the large fast flowing south river was too great as it would be impossible to regain the position I currently held; this position in the river was critical because it was the only location in the flow that would allow a possible return to the tundra river. This possible return may be possible by taking the a third river furthest to the north heading back down a river branch with yet another plethora of death traps. However, with my level of exhaustion and late time of day (night for non-polar world), my position a short ways up river from the small island that divided the strong currents, my only option left was to paddle toward the flow of the river that would take me toward the smaller river on the north side of the island where possible landing areas could be found..

Stepping on my right rudder peddle and paddling toward the right, my kayak began to drift towards the smaller branch of the river with ever increasing velocity. The piled logs and dead trees I had escaped from not so long before loomed closer and closer. I had to carefully guide my kayak away from this hazard as well as a number of dead trees jutting into the small river off its north side banks making navigation very dangerous; I had to avoid the island’s lead edge log jam in the swift current while making an effort to avoid running into trees sticking into the river from the opposite banks. The current was swift as both forks of the river required all my efforts be directed toward the task of missing collisions with trees sticking into or floating on the river. On the powerful currents of the left fork on the island’s north side, I was quickly pulled through a gap in the maze of logs and trees and once again sent down river at a pace too fast to escape. I aimed my kayak toward the south bank of the small river and my bow struck the shore line causing the current to swing my stern down stream. Now facing up stream I began to take advantage of the slightly slower flow that was found behind the back side of the log jam at the lead edge of the island, only this time I was doing this in the smaller river on the islands north side.

The tip of my kayak finally ran aground in the sand and mud on the island’s north side river bank. I was spent and could go no further. I set foot on solid ground found on the north side of the island, where the larger portion of the log jam on the island’s lead edge created a block of the river current that was more effective than what I had been stumbling through and sinking in on the island’s south side.

Setting foot on this island’s small two foot wide shore line was the first step into a world of the miraculous. I climbed the grassy steeply inclined river bank and tied off my kayak that was still sitting in the river with the bow grounded on the sand. The island was small being about thirty feet wide, and thirty feet from where I landed the island tapered to a point where the log jam was piled. On the north side the small river swiftly flowed where my kayak was tied up safely; dead trees were every where in this small river. On the south side was the monstrous mile wide river where I had struggled through the fallen submerged trees from this island south edge; I could hear the sound of the sloshing rip curl wave that I had recently battled to get through. I stood for a moment trying to catch my breath and watched the great river that flowed around the tiny island I was on; there were trees, logs and other bits of trees and wood constantly floating down each of the rivers that surrounded the humble slowly eroding island where I stood. I was so exhausted that I knew there was no way that I could leave this little bit of solid ground in the middle of this most inhospitable muddy glacial river. I was soaked, it was getting close to ten in the evening when gently a ray of sun came shining out of the clouds and warmed my back, I turned around to look at the sun and it was beautiful but what it was shining on was even more wonderful. There in the light of the mysterious midnight sun a ray of light shone through the few willow trees that grew near the river bank and there it lit up a wide area of soft sandy ground just big enough for my tent. Was it just a coincidence that the sun should shine at that moment to warm me and catch my attention and show me a place for my tent? Was it a coincidence that the place where I threw all my extra camp gear to unburden my kayak so it would make it through the powerful sweeping current on the south side just happened to be twenty feet away at the island’s lead edge?

What followed after these few initial wonderful events that began with the sunshine, turned my battle with death into a story that is full of such wonder and beauty that it makes the death traps of the river appear like strategically arranged systems of protection for a place where events of sacred proportion would occurred unlike any I have ever experienced in my life. Beginning with my landing on the river's edge through the two nights I spent on this little island; I will be forever thankful for being led through the mysterious events at the convergence.

From this point on in this story I will make an effort to detail events that are fearfully awesome, humbling but most of all, full of a wonderful, mysterious, overseeing love; as I attempt to explain the presence of an amazingly unexpected visitor whom I met in this remote isolated place.