The orange glow in the sky lit up the ice bergs that were beached on the rocks. We can see well enough to paddle at 2am, I noted! I think this is the earliest I’ve ever got up to paddle but it doesn’t make that much difference when it’s barely dark for a couple of hours a night and when we went to bed at 6pm! We rub the sleep from our eyes, cook and shovel down some oatmeal, pack up our sleeping stuff from the cabin and carry the kayaks 100 metres over some smooth rocks to the ocean. We are leaving close to high tide, hence our early morning. During the night, heavy rain drummed on the cabin roof, I woke just long enough to feel glad I wouldn’t have to pack away a wet tent and to hope it had stopped by morning. I was in luck and we launched onto a barely rippled sea under a pink and blue sky dotted with cotton wool clouds. It was one of those mornings where we should have made great progress with a favorable current and a gentle breeze behind us but someone stopped every few minutes to take another photo or video clip. Just when you thought you were done, another sculpted ice berg appeared glinting in the early morning sun.

It was classic Ungava bay geography today. The coast is all fairly even height, an endless low rocky ridge with a few undulations. The bare rock is light tan colored below the high tide mark and stained black with lichen above it. we lost sight of shore for half of the day, forced ever outward by hectare after hectare of reef, skirting a rock wall that guided us several kilometers from the mainland. The winds gradually picked up and joined forces with the current to give us a good push in the right direction. We landed after almost 6 hours as the favorable current faded out and had lunch on a Rocky shore at 9.30am! Scanning the map ahead, Frank noticed another cabin 18km ahead that Felix had told us about. The thought of another full night of sleep was all the motivation we needed to push on, out and around more offshore reefs, almost through a beautiful gully filled with giant ice bergs. We paddled into Bray inlet, scanning for the cabin. Jf spotted it and we happily powered towards it only to find a 400 metre wide, 1.5 metres tall rapid barring our entrance any further into the bay. We found a spot where we could carry the kayaks 50 metres over a low rubbly rock wall and spent an hour getting ourselves and all our gear the last 200 metres to the cabin. But it was worth it. It’s windy enough to keep all but the hardiest bugs away. Frank cooked over a fire, we had a relaxing few hours sorting out gear and we worked out if we leave close to high water tomorrow we should be able to paddle right over the rapids.