Jul. 09, 2008 - Issue #664: Rocky 12
Fatal Tide
Fatal Tide teaches hard lessons
Given the brewing storm over the Bay of Fundy that afternoon, some blamed the race organizers and felt that the rookie racer should not have been allowed to put in for the kayaking portion. Others, more bluntly, felt that he should have known his own limitations, that the only person responsible was the 22-year-old himself.
As Fatal Tide author David Leach discovered, the truth of what happened on that June day was far more nuanced. When the news of Arseneault’s death crossed Leach’s editorial desk at explore, however, it seemed like a simple case of misadventure.
“We didn’t know the details,” Leach explains. “The original reports really made it sound like, ‘Oh this storm had come up, somebody had died.’ It was an unfortunate but unforeseeable tragedy, and something that we should kind of mention in passing. These—not adventure races, but wilderness deaths—happen from time to time. It’s the nature of going outdoors.”
But this was possibly the first adventure-racing death in the country, and when the magazine had trouble getting any sort of statement from anybody involved in the race or rescue attempt—even the Coast Guard—Leach knew that there was much more to the story, and because explore had encouraged its readers to participate in the race, he felt compelled to discern what, exactly, went wrong. The quest would turn into a five-year journey.
The eight-hour Fundy Multi-Sport Race—in its third year in 2002—was billed as an adventure race for the beginner. It involved three legs: trail running, mountain biking and sea kayaking. Organizers Sara Vlug and Jayme Frank, while in their 20s, had participated in a variety of races and took on the challenge of introducing new athletes to the growing sport.
It would be easy to lay the blame for Arseneault’s death squarely at the young couple’s feet. There were some serious errors in organizational judgment—putting the kayaking, and most difficult, leg last; no mandatory wetsuits; too few checkpoints, no numbers on the athletes; no Coast Guard alerted—but as Leach discovered there were many other factors involved, right down to how Arseneault was rescued from an hour in the cold Bay waters.
“It was three years after it happened and I was doing the research into hypothermia and realized that, based on various hypothermia studies and talking to the lead researchers, by all odds, he was likely alive right up until the moment that he was pulled from the water, and that the very act of rescuing him was the last act that precipitated his death. That if it had been a Coast Guard vessel, they would have rescued him in a different way, and he might still be alive.”
In his telling of Arseneault’s lust for life, Leach also appeals to the quest for adventure that lives in all of us. It’s a thirst that even the arm-chair thrill-seeker has slaked over the last decade or so through television broadcasts of the Eco-Challenge, X-Games, Amazing Race and even Survivor.
One of the appeals, of course, is taking on challenges where decisions involve a constant assessment of your own abilities. That your success or failure is your responsibility alone. It is this very quality, however, that seems to have kept formal rules and regulations away from adventure racing. To some, the idea of legislation is an evil spectre over the sport.
The inquest into the Fundy race delivered recommendations, but nothing binding. Leach asks the questions and leaves readers to decide. How much responsibility do organizers and competitors have in ensuring safety? And exactly how safe is an adventure race meant to be before it is diluted into something more like a fun run?
For their part, Arseneault’s parents and siblings believe René was entitled to more care from the race organizers, a belief they have followed up with litigation. At the very least, René Arseneault’s mother Jacqueline wants some admission of culpability, an apology, from Vlug and Frank. (Neither went on record with Leach while he researched the book.)
Boon Kek, the racer who held onto Arseneault from the seat of his kayak while the pair drifted far off course, has different demons to wrestle with.
“I can’t begin to—even though that’s what I try to do—imagine what Boon’s gone through, and what he has wrestled with in the aftermath,” Leach says. “To come to Canada to seek out outdoor adventure and to be thrown into this terrible, terrible circumstance, and to blame nobody except yourself—to kind of go back and think, ‘what would I have done differently?’
“He has no interest in blaming the organizers or wondering whether René should have gone out. It was always, ‘Oh, I should have done this, I should have taken more chances.’”
Regardless of the level of the outdoor acumen of Leach’s audience, readers will likely find themselves asking similar questions. They are questions that Leach knows need to be asked, however unpopular. The answers lie in the hard-won experiences of everyone involved in that 2002 race. V
By David Leach
Fatal Tide
Viking Canada, $32.00
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