In my typical boldness of that time, storm clouds on the horizon regardless, I took the boat towards the outside markers (approximately 3-5 kilometres from shore). Initially the going was good. A bit choppy for a 16 footer, but we had a lot less weight as we had consumed the majority of our gas (I had stocked a couple of jerry-cans on the shore in the channel behind Gros Cap so we wouldn't need to carry it all to the East Arm and back.
The waves started to pick up in choppiness and rollers started the colour turned and rain started. The rollers were like nothing I have ever seen on fresh water and definitely not in a 16' Lund. I had heard of mid-late summer storms on Great Slave but had never seen it up close and personal before. My father-in-law didn't seem to impressed. My son woke up as we made the corner. He kinda freaked (he was just a young boy). After fighting the water and making little headway towards Yellowknife, I prayed (to a God I didn't really believe in) that God could take me, but let these two survive as the decision to go forth was mine alone. Please note: that working with the Rangers, I was well aware of the deaths caused by overloaded, careless seamanship, or just misfortune, I was well aware of the toll taken by GSL, Great Bear Lake or the Arctic seas.
After my 'prayer' and while trying to control the boat, I decided that rocks aside, we would need to make our way though the shallow waters to shore (several kilometres distant). I saw a gap in the distance and thinking it was Dry Bones Bay I started towards it, riding the rollers. Saw lots of submerged rocks, but escaped striking any and after, what seemed forever, I came upon a small opening in the shoreline (seemed no more than 15 metres wide) and slipped in to a small bay (about twice the size of a small city lot). The water was smooth and calm inside. We got to shore, my son (eventually) calmed and Les lost the look of disgust, we fixed a meal and waited (I knew, that though the sun would not set, the movement of moon in the 'evening' would calm the waters).
It took quite a bit of persuasion to convince my young son that it was safe to get back in the boat....
Once we were back on the water, I made our way back out to the outside markers (I didn't know the inside route) and we were at the dock in just under an hour, a cell call and Barb, Alicia and my mother-in-law were there to help us load up. Of course, Les never really spoke out about my (potentially disastrous misjudgment) though he sometimes mentioned it obliquely.
I quickly forgot about my prayer and got back to work. A few weeks later, while back travelling the north in my job. I was chatting with Barb on the phone (we had followed a rule while I overseas that I would always phone when there was an available line, this became a habit - a good one), she asked if I was okay with her attending a Church locally. I don't recall the exact conversation, I do however recall that I was quite dismissive (to my shame), but said I was okay with it.
A few days later on my next call she told me "you have to come listen to this guy, there is something different here"....
Welcome to Central Arctic Baptist Church and Missionary Pastor Mark Robertson.
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