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| Between swell moments. |
That and daylight spreading its wings across the sky.
It was all of 4 a.m.
Apparently, we're far enough north to have much shorter summer nights, which is always an adjustment. It's the between times where a confused mind simultaneously seeks action and sleep.
I just want coffee.
After a sumptuous breakfast, the radio cackles. We're told the waves are too high for the boat to dock and that we'll need to be evacuated by Zodiac. Our hosts seem distressed.
We don our backpacks and rain gear, giddy with adventure.
The journey takes us through the forest, slippery with storm, and into an area otherwise closed for breeding season. The quiet cove shimmers in greens. Ferns fan our faces.
Assuming it's to take us all the way back to Rivière-du-Loup, we're surprised to see a grey, two-seat inflatable slowly rounding the corner.
I've seen bigger boats in a pool.
We immediately catch an oar in the mud and have to circle back.
But, we soon make it to a larger boat anchored farther out in the water, grins as wide as the swells. Vanishing into the raindrops, our evacuation is complete.
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