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Mishap strands vet in Yukon wilderness
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. Stuart Nelson works at the campsite in the Canadian wilderness where he spent 15 days waiting for rescue after getting separated from his kayak. (Courtesy photo)
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Posted: Saturday, November 6, 2010 10:00 am | Updated: 12:32 am, Sat Nov 6, 2010.
By CAMERON RASMUSSON Staff writer | 2 comments
Editors note: This is the beginning of a two-part series on Stuart Nelsons survival in the Yukon. Look for the storys conclusion, along with Nelsons list of essential survival items, in tomorrows paper.
SANDPOINT Stuart Nelson always knew that he was never truly alone in the wilderness.
Despite the overpowering sense of isolation, the Sandpoint resident recognized that the fauna of the natural environments were never far away. But while stranded in the northwest Canadian wilderness this fall, Nelson encountered something else. And that something saved his life.
A veterinarian by trade, Nelson relies on the loneliness in the Canadian woodlands and waterways to clear away lifes stresses. A Christian by faith, he uses the quiet for spiritual refreshment. To date, Nelson has 18 extended solo river trips under his belt, but even that level of experience didnt prevent disaster from occurring. It did, however, yield the know-how to respond appropriately and survive more than two weeks alone in the wild.
Im very lucky to be alive, he said, and I hope that lessons learned from my experience might help out others in the future.
Nelson estimated to his family and colleagues before leaving on his mid-August trip that hed return by early September and promised to keep them updated via satellite phone. By Aug. 14, he was deep in Yukon Territory just east of Alaska kayaking down the areas many streams and rivers. By Aug. 21, Nelson paddled through the Yukon heartland by way of the Little Wind River.
Here, he faced a subtler threat than the regions grizzly bears and unfriendly geography. The river had eroded the bank, causing nearby spruce trees to tip into the water and comb along the surface. Known as sweepers, these obstacles are notorious for overturning fast-moving water craft. As Nelson rounded a bend in the river, he encountered a sweeper directly in his path.
There was no way I could avoid a collision, he said. Since I was going to hit it one way or another, I tried to determine the best spot to ram without causing serious damage.
The river had other ideas, wedging his inflatable kayak underneath the tree trunk and throwing Nelson into the water. After scrambling to shore, he approached his ensnared raft and attempted to free it.
At that point, I made two mistakes, he said. The first was that I let myself make a mistake in the first place. The second was that I got separated from my boat.
In Nelsons efforts to free the craft, it caught an undercurrent beneath the sweeper and shot underwater. It resurfaced on the other side of the fallen tree, popping from the water like a fish.
I didnt even try to chase after it, he said. It was moving way too quickly.
Nelson had stowed his food supplies, extra clothing, camping equipment and satellite phone among the boats cargo. A knife, some snare wire, a signal mirror, a can of highly-flammable Sterno, a space blanket, a tincture of iodine, three fishing lures and some fishing line were the only items he had on his body. His clothing included a warm shirt, a pair of water-resistant dry pants, good boots and his life jacket.
The most important thing you need to remember about survival gear is that its not survival gear if its not on your body, he said.
Nelson remained calm in the face of his circumstances. He first decided to follow the flow of the river in the chance that his raft had lodged on another obstruction. Several miles into the hike, he realized that the boat could be lost in any one of the areas many tributaries. His best option, he determined, was to find a comparatively hospitable site where the Little Wind met the Wind River. In that area, he had a chance of flagging down an aircraft or other boaters. Outside of that hope, his best bet was to remain stationary and wait for a search party.
By the time he reached the large gravel bar between the rivers, Nelson was already exhausted. He found a depression near the tree line substantial enough to offer shelter and cut up branches to fashion a windbreak. After starting a fire with the help of the Sterno, he hunkered down for a long wait.
In the next 14 days, Nelson developed a daily routine. He rose with the dawn to cut his firewood and gather around 200 rose hips, one of his primary sources of sustenance. As the morning progressed, he returned to the river to keep an eye out for boaters or airplanes. He spent his days fishing for grayling salmon in the river, his other common food source.
There wasnt really any easy way to cook them, he said. The only method was to put them on sticks and that didnt work well at all. So I just ate them raw.
After cleaning his catches, Nelson would bite out the eyes and gills. Then he ate them much like corn on the cob, consuming everything except for the tail and spine. He tossed out what little remained to avoid attracting grizzlies.
It was kind of a strange version of sushi, he said.
During the first few days, Nelson also took measures to communicate his situation. He spelled out help using large sticks and SOS with rocks in the gravel bar. He also made sure to smoke his campfires in hopes of attracting attention. At one point, he attempted to light a tree on fire, a task that proved much more difficult in execution.
A got a few branches to burn, but that fizzled out pretty quickly, he said. I couldnt get that tree to light for anything.
SANDPOINT His boat lost in the Yukon waterways, Stuart Nelson prepared to survive as long as possible in hopes of rescue.
The weather throughout Nelsons stand on the gravel bar was almost uniformly miserable. Gray, ominous clouds bubbled overhead during the daytime, often drizzling and sometimes pouring down sheets of rain.
Nights were worse. During the darkened hours, Nelsons chief danger hypothermia was at its most potent. It was critical to keep the fire lit at all times. His space blanket next to useless, Nelson constructed a gravel barrier to prevent immolation as he hugged his campfire for warmth.
On his first Saturday while stranded, Nelson heard an airplane. Running onto the gravel bar, he could see the little bush plane flying only about 40 feet overhead. But Nelson was out of the pilots line of sight. He rushed to an area within the pilots field of vision, waving his arms and yelling, but it was no use. The pilot flew on, completely unaware of his presence.
Many days later, he spotted another airplane. But that aircraft was far overhead, impossible to flag down and certainly not looking for him.
The harshness of Nelsons living conditions took its toll. Inadequate sleep and nourishment wore on his mental state and sheared weight from his body. He lost one of his precious fishing lures when his line snapped. The constant battle against the wet and cold resulted in an infected toenail that he treated daily with iodine while drying his socks.
One particularly nasty evening, a heavy rain tapered off just as darkness fell. Nelson had a numbingly cold, damp evening ahead of him. More than ever before, it was essential to keep the fire lit. At that point, another presence revealed itself.
It was like there was someone right beside me keeping me awake and saying, Come on, Stuart. The fires going out. You have to stoke the fire, Nelson said.
Nelson managed to keep his campfire going all night.
I dont know whether it was God or a guardian angel or what with me that night, he said. But I sure am thankful.
On Saturday, Sept. 4, Nelson was drying his socks by the fire. Looking up from his work, he spotted three canoes heading down the river. Jumping from his campsite, he stormed the gravel bar barefoot, wildly waving his arms.
I must have looked pretty crazy to them, he said. I was barefoot, had a full beard and was dressed in filthy clothes.
The canoes swung toward Nelson and six people emerged. A group of outdoor enthusiasts from Europe, the party consisted of five Swiss and one German. All of them spoke English some better than others and Nelson told them his story. They said they were canoeing to an area called Taco Bar, where they were meeting up with a pilot and that theyd be happy to give him food and relay his location to the authorities Nelsons satellite phone was lost when he became separated from his kayak.
For Nelson, it meant six more days on the gravel bar waiting for rescue. That evening, the group invited him to dinner at their nearby campsite.
We had noodles with some kind of meat, Nelson said. It was so good.
During the meal, the group started talking amongst themselves in German. After a brief conversation, they told Nelson it would be better for him to join them on the trip to Taco Bar.
The trip to Taco Bar took six days. Since Nelson had no gear or sleeping bags, he decided to sleep out by the campfire as he had for the past two weeks. That allowed him to keep the fire alive when his traveling companions awoke in the morning. He also dug latrines for the groups campsites.
On one memorable evening, we made bush pizzas with lots of cheese and fried in mineral oil. Nelson said. That must be the best thing Ive ever eaten. They were so cheesy and greasy and good.
After I finished mine, they asked me, Do you want another one? and I said, Can I?
When they reached Taco Bar, Nelson noticed that the expected bush plane approached from an unanticipated direction. The pilot spotted him immediately upon exiting the plane.
Are you Stuart Nelson? he asked.
Yes, Nelson replied.
I cant believe its you, the pilot said. The whole worlds looking for you!
The pilot flew the party to the small Yukon town Mayo, where Nelson had originally departed three weeks ago. His passport and cash were gone, lost with his boat. So were his truck keys, but incredibly, Nelson found some misplaced spares sitting in the bed. After making some calls, Nelson managed to get some traveling cash and secure his way back home. Days later, he found himself in joyous reunion with his family and friends.
Fellow outdoorsmen discovered Nelsons boat on Sept. 17. He plans to return this month and salvage whatever was not lost to the river.
In October, one of Nelsons Swiss rescuers, Pascal Fleury, sent him a letter. Living in Switzerland We are probably not really able to get the meaning of being all alone, Fleury wrote. I am deeply impressed on how calmly you seemed to accept what had happened to you.
But in Nelsons mind, he never really was alone. And when he next returns to the wilderness, its likely that the solitude will seem a little less overbearing for his experience
I would rather be upside down in a canoe than right side up at my desk!
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