Day Five
Friday September 15

This morning is French Toast morning - Sharon had picked up the fresh bread in Echo Bay.  A few jokes are now passed around during the meal conversations - Monica Lewinsky's name is especially prominent for some reason. On the this, the last full day of kayaking, the scenery is spectacular. 

Debb guides Don along some especially fascinating rock walls.

The weather fully cooperates and the water is absolutely calm.  We pass the site of Sparky's Rescue last year - truly miraculous that the creature survived and thrived and returned to perhaps bite his neighbours in Seattle some more.  We get to the luncheon spot by Roaring Hole Rapids. Sharon has suffered an insect bite of some kind and her hand is swollen like  baseball - has to be painful paddling. Lunch is humus and pita and cream cheese and 'bagels' and veggies. The views of Mount Stevens are spectacular and we are blessed with a following tide.  Don is now in the single, George and Joy scuttle from side to side at twice the speed of everyone else, Bob and Hannelorr enjoy the scenery and the birds, Celeste and Eleanore talk with Sharon, Debb and I poke along the edges.

Sharon fills in with details about the flora and the fauna. Slowly we move into Burley Bay and our anchorage. Burley Bay is teeming with jellies (they used to be called 'jellyfish', but the fish people took umbrage and felt that they didn't want to share the word 'fish' with such a lesser-evolved creature). It's a sun-drenched afternoon - hot in the sun, and there is beer on the front deck and George is telling the story about his encounter with the unscrupulous ship owner who probably will not be taking them up on a kayak trip. At the end of the story, George and Joy are still waiting for their deposit. The telling of this particular story extends for one, perhaps two, maybe three hours.  Questions to the guy about this or that promised component of the trip  were usually met with… "Well, there's a bit of a problem." "What's the problem now?" "Well, I have no permit from the Haida." or "Well, I don't have your deposit anymore." Or something.

It is very enjoyable sitting on the front deck in the sun. 

I depart the front deck for a shower and when I return George is only about 3/4 of the way through the complete story and its various epilogues. We leave the kayaks in the water and have spaghetti for supper and continue with the wine tasting experiences so thoughtfully provided by Don and Celeste. After dark Don and Celeste and Bob and I go out for a night paddle. The bioluminescence is spectacular and we travel all over the bay in the darkness - marvelling at the texture of the sky and the silence.

George, Don, Bob and Don relax after an extremely hard day of paddling.

On To Day Six
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