Flight Risk

37 - Churchill River

"Ready?" Caleb stood beside the kayaks wearing a full wetsuit with a grin.

His attire brought diving to mind and dreams of us jumping off the back of a live-aboard boat together to explore an underwater oasis. That could be our reality if I worked up the courage to tell him that was what I desired.

Would that be his dream too?

From how he gazed at me and what he'd said during the trip, it had to be, but his refusal every time the future came up contradicted that hope. But perhaps we could work through that.

I grinned and nodded.

Together, we hauled the heavy boats down the rocky beach toward the Churchill River. To our left stood a port and various stilts, with a pathway leading to a large terminal elevator building beside tall concrete grain storage bins on either side, like an armed defence. It seemed out of place in such an isolated part of the province, but they must have had higher expectations for an Arctic shipping corridor that never came to fruition.

I ignored the strain on my arm muscles and scanned the dark water for belugas breaking the surface. A few whitecaps in the distance could be wind-produced or whales. I waited for the mist to emerge to confirm my hopes, but none appeared. When we arrived at the sandier edge of the river and set down the boats, I still hadn't glimpsed one water dweller aside from the birds.

As I wondered if we'd timed this wrong with a later tour, and we'd missed them, I reminded myself to enjoy the overall experience as I did to my clients. The number of big-ticket marine life we saw didn't meet everyone's expectations, but you'd assume that with an excursion called 'Kayaking with Belugas', they'd almost be a guarantee, so I kept my hope alive. We had seen a polar bear hours ago, which Joanne had told us was rare enough on the town tour. Thousands of belugas came into the Churchill River compared to nine hundred polar bears, and this area was far less vast than the tundra. Our odds were high.

"You seem pensive." Caleb massaged one of his hands with the other, wearing a neutral expression.

Mine were tense from carrying the boats too. "I'm thinking about belugas."

That put a wide smile back on his face, and he leaned in to kiss my cheek. If our mutual love of wildlife was endearing to both of us, putting us together in the Australian wildness would be a recipe for tantalizing closeness. Caleb never pushed past my comfort zone either, which made us so perfect for each other.

"I'm sure they'll show up soon," he said.

When vapour shot in the air near the docks, I gasped. The grey skin of the creature's back broke the surface, and nearby another smaller one appeared. It must have been a mum and her calf. My jaw dropped as I rocked on my toes in the wetsuit booties, and I grinned.

I glanced at Caleb, yet he stared at me instead of the water.

"Did you see it?"

"The beluga?"

When I nodded vigorously, he said, "No."

What a shame he'd missed it.

I surveyed the horizon for another who appeared, showing off its dorsal fin, and pointed it out. But his eyes were only on me.

"Caleb, the belugas!"

"I have hours to watch belugas, but only one shot to witness how excited you are to see them for the first time."

His stare made my heart race and my skin dance with the energy of a geyser. If he looked at me like that, how could he still picture us walking away from each other at the end of the trip? I would do anything to stay near him, smuggle myself in his luggage or plead with my mom to change my return ticket destination to Cardwell and knock down the door of any hiring business to pay my rent and my parents back. Impulsiveness aside, I'd figure out which visa got me in the country for the longest and do what I could to get accepted for it, as Yannick had done for his job.