There were six of us in three double sea kayaks. We were paddling into Glacier Bay, camping along the way. My brother Roy dreamed up this trip and invited me, Lettie, along to help plan it, because, he said, “I was always prepared.” Of course, his girlfriend Grace and my husband Dan were with us. In addition, Grace's sister Fran and Fran's friend Elsie were invited because my brother Roy always said, “The more the merrier.”
I was a little concerned about Fran and Elsie coming because they were inexperienced. We kept a close eye on them and everything went well, except for a few minor incidences that upset Elsie and secretly amused the rest of us.
Earlier today we paddled past large chunks of ice and small icebergs. We were far enough up a side inlet that the glacier came right down to the water. Sitting in our kayaks, watching the glacier, Elsie said, “I think we're too close.”
“Why's that?” Fran asked.
“What if it calves and creates a giant wave? We could tip over. We're too close. Let's go back.”
“Naw, I don't think so,” Fran said. “What do you say, Roy?”
“The glacier is so huge we aren't as close as it seems. I'm really hoping we get to see it calve. Just keep your hips loose and your paddle in the water for stability,” my brother reassured Elsie.
Shortly after, a huge chunk of ice broke off with an ear-splitting crack. It was stunning. The wave lifted our kayaks like an elevator and rolled under us without a problem.
“Oh my god,” Elsie cried. “That was amazing.”
“Just stick with us,” Fran replied. “We're the fun people.”
We paddled back the way we had come, looking for a place to land along the rocky shore. Roy spotted one and went ashore to look for a camp site while Grace kept their kayak from hitting the rocks.
“Okay,” he said. “This is spartan, but it will do.”
“Oh, good. Spartan's fine. I'm tired and don't want to keep looking,” Grace replied.
“Hold the boat steady while I unload. It's too heavy to carry over the rocks.”
Fran and Elsie were next because Roy and I always tried to keep them between us. I heard Elsie complaining, “What took so long,” and Fran answering, “Roy had to find a campsite and unload the boat. It's our turn now.” Roy and Grace unloaded their boat for them and helped them ashore to ensure they didn't fall into the frigid water.
We finally got all three kayaks carried above the high tide line. As Roy had said, it certainly was a spartan location. Our first campsite had been a sandy beach and a forest with foot thick moss to provide soft padding under our tents. Since then, we have been paddling backward in time, geologically speaking; here the terrain was rock and ice. We now had a small area of gravel below towering cliffs to pitch our three tents.
There wasn't any beach for walking, so we sat around watching for whales, trying to identify birds, and telling stories. No wood for a fire so we set up the camp stove early and drank instant coffee and hot cocoa with marshmallows. About dinner time the wind picked up and I could see that my brother was watching the sky.
“What's up, Roy?” I asked.
“I don't like the look of those clouds blowing in over the cliffs. Hey, everyone, be sure to trench around your tents. Looks like rain coming,” he directed.
“Be sure your rain fly is tight and your ground tarp tucked all the way under your tent,” I added.
“Yeh, yeh, like we don't already know,” I heard Elsie mutter just a little louder than necessary.
After dinner we all turned in early; it was just too cold to sit around without a campfire. We talked back and forth between tents for a while, but silence spread well before dark. Rain was already pattering on the rain fly before I fell asleep.
The rain was pounding down and the fly snapping in the wind when I awoke, but it was yelling that had startled me awake. “What going on?” I asked Dan, who was already sitting up.
“Elsie's screaming that she's drowning. I bet they forgot to trench, or left their ground tarp sticking out, or both. Roy's getting up. I'll go help him,” he said as he pulled his rain gear on. “You stay here. No point in everyone getting soaked.”
“Fran, what's going on? Are you OK,” I heard Grace yelling to her sister.
“Yes, more or less. Our tent is flooding. Our sleeping bags are soaked.”
“I'm wet and cold and miserable,” Elsie lamented.
“Elsie, go get in with Lettie and Dan. Fran, you come over here with us,” Roy ordered.
A moment later Elsie call, “OK, I'm ready to come over,” as she unzipped her tent and the rain fly. She immediately started screaming. “Bear! Bear! Get the gun. Oh my god. I think it's a bear. It's eyes are glowing. What is it? Hurry. Get the gun.”
Roy and Dan both stumbled out into the pouring rain, Roy yelling loud enough to scare off a host of zombies.
As Roy gasped for another breath, Fran was yelling over Elsie's screaming. “No, no, it's not a bear. Oh my god, Elsie, stop yelling. It's just a couple of white rocks I put on that big boulder we were sitting on before dinner. Your head lamp is making them glow.” Then Fran's laughter filled the night.
After a brief moment of silence, Elsie yelled, “Well, how was I to know?” As she ducked into our tent I could hear her muttering, “That really wasn't funny.” She crawled into our sleeping bag, shivering and cold. Spooning, I held her in a tight bear hug to settle her down and warm her up, all the while trying hard to not join in Fran's laughter.
Author: Laura Nicol
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