A long day of beauty, rain, coping, and loving it. A whale saved our skins at lunchtime by breaching. The noise brought us out of the woods where we huddled under the dripping canopy with hot soup and no conversation. We marveled at the whale's cavorting, and then I saw the boat bobbing, bob bob. The tide was rapidly incoming, as stated by the 'rule of twelths'. The rule states that in the 6 hours between high and low tides, one twelth of the volume moves in the first and last hours, two twelths moves in the second and fifth hours, and three twelths moves in the middle two hours. That means half of the whole tidal distance is covered in those two middle hours, which corresponded with lunchtime for us. With 17 foot tides, it's a fast tide.
In the steep-sided fiord, there is little flat space to lay our heads to rest, so we stretched-out our day of paddling to get here tonight, a ruined cabin that is marked on the map (published 1962) with a small triangle, 'cabin'. I was graced by one more perfect whale siteing, as I watched the blue-silver light on the water, with icebergs glistening, Trahern(exhausted) already in bed, and me giving a little prayer of thanks - then the whale - a slick kiss of a rise, and gone. I laughed at the magic. Kiss Kiss.
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