Day 25
With my expertly repaired skeg I
turned Namsos’s corner and headed north through a narrow fjord into
an archipelagic inland sea. The
headwind was chilly and brutal. The current dropped my speed to
glacial.
At the end of the even narrower outlet
fjord,, a kayaking couple, friends of those I had stayed with last
night, waited for me.
I passed a marina. I could stop, but
it wasn’t that much farther to hospitality. I pushed on, one inch
at a time. With every stroke I wondered just how much
easier it would be to go back to that marina. I kept turning around to measure how little I had accomplished since the last time I
checked five seconds earlier.
By the time I turned my boat around I had a kilometer to paddle back, and from the middle of the channel with waves
wind and current at my stern I flew.
While the small single docked marina
did not have a shower, I found and appropriated a hose. A small wooden club house with three walls sheltering cushioned
outdoor furniture sat at the head of the dock. There was even a
curtain to pull across the opening.
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