Five miles into a 32 mile race,
the ocean makes the decisions… our job is to figure out how to flow with her desires. Waves slop every which way, some hit the boat and help us along, others freeze us in time. “Four more hours… why the hell am I doing this?” It’s a natural question to ask. But before you can answer, a wave scoops up the back of the boat… wooo! Yep, there it is… the surge of six men paddling as one. Glide. Glide. Glide off to see the Island from new eyes, from the eyes of the canoe.