Set against the rugged backdrop of the Isle of Lewis, Emily's idea for a canoeing film was born out of a desire to shift the narrative from extreme outdoor adventures to more relatable, inclusive experiences. This led to a collaborative project with filmmaker Roxanna Barry, evolving from a casual conversation into a full-fledged filming adventure across Lewis, where every challenge turned into an opportunity for growth and exploration..
So how did I end up here - about to set off to make a film about canoeing across the middle of Lewis?
For quite a long time now, I have been having conversations about the type of adventure that is represented in the outdoor space. I’ve been to plenty of film festivals where the majority of films feature a group of thin men travelling a long way to go the furthest/fastest/highest, which probably takes them a few weeks. That sort of trip is so out of my reach at this stage of my life (I have a husband, a kid and a job. Watching too much of this does the exact opposite of inspiring me, leaving me feeling disconnected from the outdoors scene.
I was having precisely this rant to filmmaker Roxanna Barry, and mentioned that if there was ever an opportunity, I had had this bonkers idea for a canoe journey across Lewis. A few months later, I got an email asking for a map, and before I had time to think twice, I was committed.
My clearest memory of this moment was feeling a massive sense of imposter syndrome.
As much as I love canoeing, I’m not an expert, and this is my first multi-way trip. Who am I to be putting myself out like this? All my lofty ideas about being the representation that I want to see in the outdoor world seem, at this moment, to be rather ridiculous.
Lisa, my good friend from university, has just dropped a bombshell. While she is a very experienced kayaker, she isn’t sure she’s ever been in a canoe before. But you know, stretching the boundary of what we think we can do is the whole point of this trip (and my husband has helpfully pointed out every film needs an element of mild peril to make it interesting, so actually, the worse it goes, the better the film will be).
This is not to say that we went into this blind and unprepared, but in that moment of setting off, my mind was totally focussed on all the areas where I lacked experience rather than on our capabilities. I have been doing slightly daft things with Lisa for years; we are extremely good friends. I knew she would be amazing company for the next few days, and we would be comfortable wild camping and being out somewhere pretty remote. We were not worried about the navigation; while there aren’t any guidebooks to the area, I did a bit of research and found a trip report on the internet, and did plenty of looking at aerial photographs on Google. Most importantly, we allowed ourselves plenty of time to experiment along the way and see how it goes.
Canoe camping on Lewis. Ph. Lisa Handcock
It was an interesting change of mindset for me - I have always felt that I should practice, prepare and know everything, or reach some slightly arbitrary out of reach level of fitness before setting off on a trip like this, rather than allowing time and space for developing and practicing skills as I go along. But it turns out that it makes for a really memorable trip!
We had so many firsts, and they were so rewarding. Lisa had her first every-canoe journey, and I did my first multi-day journey.
We did our first (of many!) portages - none of the rivers were that navigable, so we had to drag the canoe about 5km over the whole trip. One of my big worries had been that my slightly creaky plus-size middle-aged body wouldn’t be strong enough to manage this. We found a workable rhythm by plodding along at a steady pace, one foot in front of the other. I’d go so far as to say that it was quite enjoyable - it’s a great opportunity to set the world to rights with a friend.
One of many portages on Lewis. Ph. Roxanna Barry
My new sail was very much the star of the journey - in fact, I gained so much confidence and am now a fully converted canoe sailing evangelist. I had heard of sailing a canoe before and thought, given how windy the Western Isles can be, it may come in handy. So I bought one, watched a 10-minute YouTube video of how to use it, and managed a couple of mornings of practice on a local loch. But the satisfaction of getting blown at speed down a loch is a fantastic reward after all of the portaging, and by the end of the trip, I felt pretty confident with it all. One of the most magic moments was heading for a short river connecting two lochs - Lisa in front giving me directions and assessing whether it was navigable. I was just steering left a bit or right a bit. Just as we hit the (gently) moving water, a massive gust of wind hit us from behind, and we shot through the gap, going as fast as I have ever been in a canoe.
We explored the islands in the lochs—they are all covered in scrubby little trees—the only green patches on the map for many miles. We stopped and swam, and Lisa went on a walk up a Marilyn that we walked past. We tried to take in as much of the landscape as possible because I don’t think I am likely to make this journey again any time soon.
And there was the stinky seaweed beach. We were launching into the sea on a perfectly normal beach, but in fact, it was just a thin layer of decoy gravel over lots of really smelly rotten seaweed. By the time I’d held the boat so that Lisa could get it I had sunk up to my knees and was totally stuck. I don’t think I’ve every laughed quite as much as I did while rolling onto the back of the canoe like a beached whale, trying to wash the revolting brown gunk off my legs so that we didn’t have to smell it all the way to the end of the trip.
I have been totally inspired by this adventure and am keen to be off exploring again - the map of North Uist looks amazing!
Emily gave a presentation to the Royal Geographical Society in March and this is now availble to watch online: Lewis canoe odyssey: adventure, friendship and breaking expectations Emily Williams paddles, portages and sails her canoe across the Hebridean peat, lochs and rivers, reflecting on the power of representation, learning new skills, and finding plus size outdoor clothing.