As the canoes made their way back to Washington Island, Ken started cracking jokes, trying to distract his crew from their shivering limbs and chattering teeth. His instincts kicked in as tension in the boat rose. Everyone needed a diversion from the miserable cold and the terrifying prospect of capsizing in the rough surf and freezing to death. As a trained actor, he knew he could provide that distraction, telling one joke after another.
After a brief but nerve-wracking struggle the convoy of canoes made it to land, only a mile or two south of the point where they’d launched less than an hour ago. Everyone who wasn’t drenched and frozen rushed off to cut wood for the fires. For the first time since they’d started their journey, the fire was lit with matches from an emergency pouch. It was too risky to waste any time on authenticity now.
Ken, Hess, Fredenburg, and LeSieutre stripped out of their heavy wool and linen clothes, peeling off each layer with trembling, numb fingers. Their skin was angry crimson red up to their chests, but none of them looked as if they had any frostbite. Naked but for their underwear, the men wrapped up in warm, dry blankets and huddled close to the fire. Marc Lieberman dug around his pack looking for a small bottle. Though they’d been given plenty of alcohol, he knew the momentary warmth from liquor would do more harm than good. Instead he found a bottle of maple syrup and passed it around. The liquid was like an elixir. Normally used with their breakfast, maple syrup could be a useful preventative against severe hypothermia. The sugars were a quick, easily digestible source of fuel that provided the body with a small boost of warmth.
It wasn’t until the crew had caught their breath that someone realized there were only five canoes on the beach. The only canoe without an adult paddler had never returned to land.
The Last Voyagerus, by Lorraine Boissoneault is available from Pegasus Books wherever books are sold.
