Sometimes walking off a cliff is the most courageous thing you can do, metaphorically speaking
“When we first bought our place, it was quite intense. We had to figure out every single little thing … the basics of life.”
Louise Dumayne, an actress, and Neil Fletcher, a marketing executive, bought an off-grid cabin 90 kilometres north of Dawson City on the Yukon River. Neither had much in the way of suitable skills. The property came with an old cabin, a 30-year-old snow machine and no boat.
Fletcher and Dumayne weren’t blind to what they were getting into (not completely, at least). Dumayne had been on vacation in Alaska, several years in a row, and loved dog mushing and caring for the dogs. As she met people, the adventure opportunities grew.
Together, Dumayne and Fletcher embarked on four longer-term winter experiences—two as sled-dog handlers and two at an Alaskan miner’s place as caretakers. And throughout these adventures, they learned winter survival skills. Yet, in every one of those situations, the household systems were already in place or the people were there to guide them.
Buying their own land and cabin took their northern adventure to a whole other level.
Dumayne says, “When we first bought our place, it was quite intense. We had to figure out every single little thing … the basics of life. And pre-Starlink, we were mostly cut off from the world. It was just harder on every level.”
Day-to-day was about survival. The other shift they made was moving from adventures in Alaska, to deciding to immigrate to Canada.
“Why Canada?” I asked. “All your adventures have been in Alaska.”
Dumayne explains. “We felt Canada would be a better home for us. As Brits, we’d have a chance of immigrating to Canada. And, ultimately, we felt more culturally aligned.”
The couple heard about a property for sale downriver. After some consideration, they purchased it, and nearly 11 years later they’re finding their rhythm. Finally, they have been able to move beyond the survival stage. Now they have not one, but five snow machines and a riverboat.
They even had time to meet people in Dawson. And they picked up a little off-grid shack in West Dawson—convenient for when they want to come into town, spend time with friends, and not make the long trip home. But meeting people took time.
“There was no pub culture,” Dumayne points out.
They would go to the bar and realize it’s not the same in Canada. People don’t tend to connect in pubs like they do in England. It took a while to get involved in the community and make connections.
Life in the northern wilderness is a constant adjustment, Dumayne says: “We dress differently, we travel differently, we have to talk differently to be understood, and we talk about different things.
“Sometimes I crave having a connection … something that is continuous throughout my life.”
That’s why Dumayne returned to writing, to an art she enjoyed in her youth. She longed for a connection with people who “work in a creative way.” Mostly, these connections take place online, through classes and writing groups, but there are in-person Yukon connections as well. Not one to procrastinate, Dumayne has drafted her first novel, is working on edits and is strategizing with her agent on next steps.
Like Dumayne, Fletcher has been connecting with people in his field (marketing) and picking up an increasing number of contracts while making like-minded connections.
Dumayne and Fletcher are gradually becoming part of the Yukon fabric.
Looking back on the journey to this point, Dumayne says, “The lifestyle we’ve chosen is tremendously exciting and very peaceful at the same time.”
It was a hard road to get here, but the petite five-foot-one Dumayne is tenacious.
“She says, “If you become clear about what it is you want in this world, often if you just keep going at it … keep going at it … you’ll get a little break.
“You just have to stay focused. It’s about finding what makes your soul sing, and moving towards it.”
