I wanted to write and publish this last Thursday for a throw-back-Thursday theme; however, getting my fingers to stay on the keyboard prevented it.
I’m enjoying the weekend with my favorite adventure buddy (Angus) and wanted to share one of our humorous adventures. We’re taking a step back to Monday, September 3, 2012. Both Angus and I drew draw hunts that year. Angus had a tag for a moose, and I had the caribou, so I thought for sure that we’d be bringing home some meat that year.
The plan was to launch our jetboat into Lake Louise, head north to Susitna Lake, follow it north to Lake Tyone, then follow the Tyone River as far up as possible for Moose. It seemed straightforward and should have gone well, or at least it briefed well to us.
Caveats need to be mentioned before we go any further; my grandfather was a wicked good hunter but was done hunting by the time I was born, so I experienced the stories which stirred my desire to live in Alaska, but no skills or techniques were taught. My dad never hunted, and growing up, nobody I knew hunted, so I’m lacking in the hunting foundation. This means I hiked with a rifle minus one successful moose hunt in 2018.
Another caveat is that I always plan for the worse and expect the best, which means I bring enough gear to make things happen and keep us alive. I have many stories, including near-death experiences that have been successfully thwarted.
We owned a really sexy jetboat. I only wanted a small, simple one; however, my ex made it clear that she wouldn’t join us if we got a small boat, and for her to join us, we got an 18-foot Extreme Shallow that rode on four inches of water. Trust me, it was way sexy but was a big heavy pig. While it did ride on four inches of water (on step) it needed deeper water to take off and get on step, so when running on shallow water, you never want to stop until you are in deep enough water.
Okay, I am done with the caveats, and now to the adventure.
We had an uneventful launch into Lake Louise and enjoyed the ride through Lakes Louise and Susitna. We entered Lake Tyone through a shallow and narrow waterway. It turns out Lake Tyone has a heavy amount of submerged plants and lily pads; distributed throughout the whole lake. If we were talking about an outboard motor, the heavy vegetation wouldn’t provide an impasse. Our jetboat engine was like a monstrous vacuum cleaner sucking up hundreds of gallons of water through the intake underneath the boat.
We tried our best to avoid the obvious lily pads, but the submerged plants were everywhere, and we vacuumed a path to the Tyone River. Before entering the river, we stopped the boat to try to clear the jet intake via a stomp plate on the back of the swim step. We had enough success that we felt comfortable running the boat down the river.
It turned out that the mouth of the Tyone River is filled with submerged vegetation. It also turns out that the Tyone River is fast-moving water with a sizable amount of rocks above and below the water level. I can’t tell you how many times we were shooting the river underpowered due to the intake being clogged with vegetation; I put the boat in neutral so that debris isn’t pulled in while Angus was trying to clear the intake via the stomp plate and we resemble a pinball going through a pinball machine. The river was too shallow to get the boat on step for, I’d say, 50% of the ride and too clogged the other 50% when the river was deep enough to get her up on step.
In an attempt to keep the hunt going, we pulled the boat over to the shore, tied in a rope wench, and started pulling her ashore, hoping to get the boat’s backside above water so that we could clean out the intake and jet unit. Due to the boat’s length, we stopped wenching her in and realized that the intake would be in an even more difficult position. Another hypothesis was destroyed.
Angus and I have a strong level of persistence. We were driven to make this hunt successful. I finally “called it” a mile downstream. The intake was utterly clogged; we had no power and no ability to clean the intake, and the motor kept overheating due to no water flow. We were now facing a significant problem. We were “up a creek” with paddles, thankfully!
I think it was about 2 PM when we agreed to switch from hunting to let’s get home mode. Without a working jet unit, we started paddling up the Tyone River. I left the GPS on, and we sat opposite each other near the back of the boat on the gunwales and chatted as we watched our position on the GPS plotter slowly move upstream. I have no idea what exact conversations we had, but I do know we had everyday conversations or at least regular conversations. No yelling, no losing of shit, or anything. I say that because it’s crucial to keep your calm rather than lose your shit over the simple thing, as I experienced with my dad.
Thankfully, sections of the Tyone River were shallow enough that we could tie lines onto the cleats on the boat’s bow and walk upstream while pulling the boat with the ropes. Pulling the boat helped give us a break from paddling and helped break up the monotony. Leaving the GPS plotter on was a treat because we were paddling upstream in the dark. Yes, we had enough light to see close to us, but too dark to see any distance. The bright glow from the plotter showing our position, speed, and map helped motivate us as we plugged along.
I distinctly remember we finally made it clear from the mouth of the river and were now a reasonable distance into Tyone Lake in complete darkness, and it was close to 10 PM. We dropped anchor and made the boat our campsite for the evening.
Thankfully the boat had a canopy, so I had Angus sleep across the two front seats, and I slept on the back two. We slid a cooler between the seats so that it made an almost flat and level platform to sleep on and almost seamlessly joined the seats. I awoke with frost on my sleeping bag, and thankfully, with Angus being protected more, his bag was ice-free.
After having breakfast on the boat, we tried working on the stomp plate more (standing on the swim step and out of the water) and tried multiple times to get the boat running and then would have to immediately stop the engine due to it overheating. I had a scrub brush on a handle which made it about 15 inches long. I had the idea that one of us jump in the water, go underwater, scrub the intake clean, and get back in the boat. Angus gave me a flat-out hell no, so I stripped down and jumped into that cold ass water. To no avail, I couldn’t get myself to submerge my head in that water. I climbed back into the boat with my tail between my legs and my balls in the back of my throat.
We had no cellular coverage, and the only thing we had for communication was my Spot Tracker. The Spot Tracker version, I had only sent messages, and they were preprogrammed via computer before going somewhere. It had two buttons that were for serious issues. One button triggered a “serious” message to predetermined friends/family; the other button was a flat-out SOS button triggering the Rescue Coordination Center. With much reservation, I activated the serious button, and it reached out to my amazing friend and brother, Mike.
I didn’t know that triggering the serious button automatically sent out a message every 15 minutes. This meant Mike was at work, got the initial message, checked my location, and figured he’d follow up after work. Well, 15 minutes later, he gets another text message, which keeps going. He is now extremely concerned about us and asks to get the time off, goes through hell with his boss, and still leaves to help us.
After a prolonged period, we finally reached the narrow waterway separating Lake Susitna and Tyone Lake. I turned off the SPOT unit because I kept seeing the light flashing and was concerned about what it was up to.
Our only option was to pull the jet unit, clean it, and install it again. We paddled the boat towards the shallower part of the waterway and dropped anchor; I put my chest waders on, got into the water, and floated a blue tarp under the boat so that if I dropped any parts such as a nut or something, then I would be able to recover it compared to it falling into the vegetation and soft bottom. I have no idea how long I was in the water total. I successfully pulled the unit and handed it to Angus since he was in the boat, he cleaned it, and then I reassembled it.
My chest waders have no insulative properties, and I didn’t bring heavy insulated layers for the trip. Hence, I had minimal insulation and played on the edge of hypothermia. I clearly remember standing in the river, looking up at Angus, and asking him to lean over the swim step, reach into the water, and screw on the last four nuts. My hands were so cold that they were nothing more than lobster claws.
We got the boat up and running. We hauled ass through the lakes and got her back on the boat trailer. Our goal was to get cellular service and let Mike know we were okay. Thankfully, we were able to contact Mike. I can’t say enough about Mike and the amazing things he has done.
I can immediately recall three Mikes that are all amazing, and the other two each deserve a fun future story. Michael’s account will be about the November 30, 2018, level M7.1 earthquake, and Mike’s will be about weapon cleaning in Iraq.
Thanks for joining me in a fun memory back to an adventure that both Angus and I can still look back at and laugh about.
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