Larrys alarm went off at 2.30am as he wanted extra time to get packed and enjoy his coffee. Frank got up too and I dozed on and off through the pzzzz of deflating mattresses, the crunch of dry bags being tightly packed and patter of feet on the floor. All too soon JFs watch buzzed loudly by my ear. Surely that wasn’t 30 minutes already? We leapt into action; Jf packing away the sleeping stuff, me priming the stove for breakfast. The four of us moved the almost empty kayaks 200 metres down a path of sharp rocks and packed them at the waters edge. Mine still seems full to the brim even after eating 5 days worth of food. 90 minutes later, we pushed off close to high water, relieved to see that the semicircle of rapids that guards the bay was almost covered by the sea. We each choose a channel through shallow boulders and practiced our river running skills for 50 metres. Frank got caught up briefly on a boulder but skillfully pushed himself off.

Once in the open bay, a brisk wind whipped up the sea into short choppy waves. My mapcase was flung up into the air. Cats paws raced across the surface in the strongest gusts. Happily it was blowing from behind us and pushed us enthusiastically along our way. We had a maze of hundreds of islands, rocks, reefs and icebergs to find our way through. Navigating was challenging as the maps and charts don’t show accurately how much land dries out at low tide so we don’t know which channels between islands will be dead ends. There are so many rocks that aren’t on the chart that it’s tricky to know where you are. Hundreds of Icebergs caught up on shallow ground blocked our vision and sometimes our path. They were all around us today, some flat low white tables, others sculpted into beautiful glistening blue ornaments. We stopped to take photos of ones that had melted to look like a whale tail or the loch ness monster.

We didnt want to go too far out and around everything but we’re afraid of getting stuck on the inside and having to back track against the wind and current. In the end we skirted most of the islands, spending all day miles from the mainland. We were on the look out for bears amongst the ice. We haven’t seen any yet but we are getting to the area where they like to hang out. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see our first one tomorrow when we hope to get to kiliniq near the northern tip of Labrador.

After 40km we came closer to shore and scanned the sharp rocky cliffs for a possible campsite. We thought we saw a beach but as we got closer, it was a sand colored ramp of rock on a reef. Poking our nose into a wide rocky bay, we spotted a beige curve at one end. I tried to stop the excitement building at the sight of a steep sand beach. What if it was just another illusion? JF was less restrained and started yelping with delight at finding an oasis amongst all the rock. “Wow look at that beach. It’s the shortest and easiest portage ever in Ungava bay”. Then the excitement went up a level, “A cabin ! Look! There’s a cabin”.

It was indeed a beach. We pulled the kayaks up and clambered up the sand and gravel and over a berm to a flat plateau behind. The news about the cabin was less favorable. It was once a large building with three separate rooms and two wood burners. Now, one wall is missing, all the windows are empty and the roof is sagging and spewing thick insulation. It would offer no protection from bears. We set up camp at the top of the beach, had a wander up a hill to look down on our red hilleberg tents, and the vast Arctic landscape. I’m about to finish the first night watch shift. It’s 10pm and the sky is alive with the most glorious reeds and blues from the setting Sun. Another good day.