Camp 43, seven km from last camp. This is a tough day of paddling against a very strong headwind. When I leave camp 42, I have to cross the big lake a distance of one km to the next island. The canoe ships several litres of water when I do not quarter the periodic really big waves soon enough, which seem to appear about every 10 waves. Very tiring, paddling in double time for such a distance, thinking it is never going to end. I am quite relieved when I reach land for a break, and can sponge out the water. My plan was to canoe at least double the distance, but I finally give up bucking the wind and waves which are even worse when I reach an exposed large bay. To find a decent campsite I must head out of my way, canoeing four extra kilometres searching for a campsite amongst many small islands, stopping at four places before finding an acceptable site.
There are abundant bunchberries and lowbush cranberries. I feel guilty tromping on them in order to set up camp, but there are still lots available to pick later.
Even with such a strong wind, the blackflies are quite bothersome. It is very humid and darkened with heavy smoke which seems to bring the buggers out in force. Campfire smoke typically drives them away but not so with forest fire smoke. The bug tent on a levelish rock face provides welcome relief. The tent must have enough gear inside to keep it from blowing away.
A very interesting sight. A pelican surrounded by dozens of double-crested cormorants, which are harassing the large bird for fish. Several times the pelican dashes at the surrounding birds with wings spread wide, partly flying across the lake surface, to no avail. After several minutes the pelican flies away. I have seen gulls flocking around a pelican before but this is a first with cormorants.
After catching several pike, I stop at this sheltered point on an island to have lunch and clean the fish. Just around the corner I spot the cormorants at the same time they saw me and flew off.
Ruby red sun makes an appearance for just a few seconds before obscured again by the heavy smoke.
I was splitting a piece of dry spruce log for firewood when it flew up and banged my face. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Maybe I should stick to the saw. The next day I have a black eye.
The very strong wind drives waves that wash into the fireplace.
The wind will not let up and shifts direction to drive directly towards camp. I knew this might become a problem when I selected the campsite, but it was the best of what I found at the time. C'est la vie. To provide more shelter for the tarp I move it behind the tent.
This evening I hear a single wolf howl several times far in the distance. I wonder if this is "my" wolf that sat and watched me?