Winds remain unabated through the overnight hours. Frank wakes up periodically and slips out of the cabin to see if there’s been any change. By 5:00am there’s a slight easing to our Easterly blow and we decide to make a move. We’re stuck far out on a small islet, fully exposed to wind and weather, with our options few.

Moving towards the mainland is essential for us to garner some lee protection for rowing or a for some beach surface to haul along. This is what it’s come to, clawing forward no matter how preposterous or slow.

Frank and I ferry from our island perch to a series of smaller islets that provide a semblance of protection from the ever present wind. The crossing is exhilarating and fast, dark rollers sweeping beneath our bow, their tips frothing, their valleys deep.

It’s a glorious morning with a wash of radiant ochre bathing everything in an animated glow. On a small islet we notice two large caribou staring intently at us, antlers soaring and provocative, their stance exuding an air of astonishment. We would see countless more caribou over the course of the day, often a forest of antlers being the only hint of the animals in repose.

Caribou small

Our Easterly shifts to a North Easterly and we begin to make some guarded process behind the oars. We make two larger crossings across heaving bays of marching rollers and pull back a little lost mileage. Movement buoys our spirit.

- Kevin