The creek narrowed and then split. Danny Ray guided us to the left of the split and then slowed again. He then began to make a series of S-turns back and forth across the channel. Always searching for the deepest water, and always keeping us in the deepest cut. I flicked my eyes from Danny Ray to the depth finder and saw that though the depth of the water had shallowed greatly, there was always just enough to allow Miss Rosalie safe passage.

After a bit, Danny Ray struck and held to a more or less straight course, slowing only occasionally to make extra sure of a particular stretch of water. The creek continued to steadily narrow until, rounding a bend in the channel, I saw something on the bluff above and realized it was the roof of the shack peeking above the obscuring fog.

Danny Ray stopped near the end of the dock while I held off in midchannel. When he made a hand signal that I should back into the cut and tie up bows facing out, I waved a hand out the pilothouse door that I understood his meaning and called to Parker in a voice just loud enough to be heard the length of the deck.

“I’m gonna turn us around, come aft, and toss Danny Ray the lines as we pull up to the dock.”

Parker walked to the stern and stood at the ready. The tide was still rising, so I had a bit of a dance turning Miss Rosalie in the narrow channel and then backing her up perpendicular to the flow of the water. But Danny Ray had foreseen the problem. Using the skiff as a tugboat, he dashed fore and aft, and from side to side—like a herding dog maneuvering a flock of sheep—pushing with the bow of the skiff here and there, wherever his effort had the most effect, and within minutes, we were tied safely and securely at our new dock.

I gave the instruments one last scan, turned off the electronics, and switched off the engine. All was quiet. As I stepped out of the pilothouse I looked to the east, and there on the indistinct horizon was a faint smear of color giving herald of a new day.

Danny Ray and Parker had just finished with the lines. As they turned to face me I could see the condensation of their breath in the chill morning air.

“Dang, if it ain’t cold this morning,” I said, a plume of fog accompanying my words. “What say we go below where it’s warm and get a few hours’ shut-eye. Then we can check out the cabin and see what we need to do next.”

“I’m in agreement there,” said Parker as he rubbed his hands together vigorously and then blew into them.

Danny Ray bobbed his head up and down. “Y-y-yeah,” he stammered, as much from the cold as anything else.