Day 3. Fri. July 15, 9:45 AM (beginning at 56°54’45” N, 76°32’35” W)

On which our protagonist pushes his luck.

It’s going to be a beautiful day, if I can keep it together.

At dawn, my first thought is that sleeping indoors, plus the unexpectedly mild weather, may be lulling me a bit too much. In the middle of the night, I woke up to see a wolf running around on the porch. A bang on the door glass from my top-bunk perch scared him off, but I realize my head is in vacation mode … on a solo paddle in wolf and bear country.

I realize I’m out of drinking water. So I have to find a source pretty soon. And I need to keep the tides in mind. As I was carrying loads back to the boat, I just found it floating. Not on the sand. Floating. Arm’s length from shore, but still. I immediately pulled it back up on the beach, but it could have been a disaster. I need to get back to expedition headspace here. I ask myself my three centering questions:

Where are you?
Where is your body?
Where is your head?  

7PM  57°03’20” N, 76°34’15” W

Took me longer than expected but I reached White Whale Point. Luck has been with me the whole day and I am again full of gratitude.

I left Nastapoka Falls at 11AM after trying to get drinking water from the river mouth, but despite the force and volume of the outflow nearby it was still brackish and undrinkable. I headed north and found the mouth of a small stream around noon. While filtering in the warm sunshine, I managed to lose my dromedary’s cap in the rapid. Kept my cool but was I ever annoyed: No dromedary would mean I could only carry about three liters of water at a given time instead of seven. I searched frantically below the rapid but didn’t see it, and a slow paddle nearby turned up nothing, so I gave it up for lost and left, thinking I could sacrifice my Nalgene’s compatible cap. As I paddled out the mouth’s entrance to the bay, though, I got a stroke of luck: I happened upon the cap! It floats after all. Major sigh of relief.

You’re making avoidable mistakes, I tell myself. Think and act more deliberately.

The coast is rocky, with gentle hills rising away to the east. I hug the shoreline somewhat closely but I don’t see much wildlife outside of sea birds. Off to the west are more of the Nastapoka Islands that create my sea route corridor northward. If I had unlimited time and resources I’d paddle out closer to them. They are the sort I love, rugged and stately.

Paddling was uneventful except for another nagging concern: The shoreline is relatively straight and featureless, and I didn’t want to inadvertently blow past White Whale Point. It turns out I had nothing to worry about. After a few false alarms, the point was obvious, very prominent, with three dilapidated cabins visible from the water. It was 5PM so I camped, with plans to study maps again this evening.

And what an evening. Still sunny and warm at 7:30PM. I think it took roughly 16 hours total to get here from Umiujaq. Flat conditions the whole way. I am still tired after a few hours every day; my body is still adjusting and I need to let it.

A seal popped his head up early in the day; it gave me a good long curious look. Seemed almost human from a distance. I can see how mermaid stories arise.