He was halfway across. Absolutely screaming along and, clearly visible now, at the other side the waves ran at an angle into the flat rock face of a cliff. And again, for that moment, there was nothing he could do. If he tried to turn down the face of the wave, it would roll him up and drown him and if he just kept riding the wave – which in his mind he now thought of as The Damn Thing – it would smash him into the rock face. Tear both Leif and the canoe apart on the rock with all the force of the wave. Nothing but pieces . . .

Nothing, he thought.

Nothing to do.

And again, at the most critical moment, the dolphins saved him.

Clearly they had done this many times, done it for fun, so they must know what to do and Leif watched them. Rolling, weaving over one another, looking up at him now and then, riding next to him in the wave, and as they approached the end of the ride – drawing close to the rock face – they simply peeled out of the wave and went to the rear. Some of them dived beneath the wave to get free, but most of them turned quickly around, so they faced the wave head-on, and slipped back over the top of it to the still water in back of the wave.

Slick, he thought for the hundredth time, as slick as eel puke.

All he had to do was spin the canoe around fast, really fast, no-mistakes-fast, and ride it head-on over the top of the wave. And then face the next wave head-on again, ride over it, and the next, and the next and . . .

Nothing to it.

He hesitated, realizing suddenly that as he spun around, the canoe would be for that instant side-on to the wave and could be caught and rolled. And then a part of him grew calm and he relaxed. He knew it was out of his hands. He was closer to the cliff face, rushing towards it, and there simply wasn’t any time for him to think on it.

He took a deep breath, braced his knees at the sides of the canoe, dug the paddle in with everything in his arms, his back, and felt the canoe answer him. It swung to the one side, the bow sweeping, hung for an eternal moment as he heard the top of the wave hissing at him and the canoe shuddered once, her whole length, and passed through it and he was over the top.

He steered head-on into the next wave, half felt the water spray back on his face and chest as the bow cut through it, and he had a moment in the still water between the waves and then went over the next one as well.

And the next.

And the next . . .