thicker wood, I could barely function. I propped my kindling against a rock, like Jonah had showed me when I wasnât any taller than his waist. I knelt down and tried to make my thumb turn that little metal wheel on the lighter.
For the life of me, I couldnât do it. Couldnât get my thumb on it, couldnât work the thumb when I did. Mosquitoes were buzzing in my ears and landing on my face, drawing blood, no doubt, but I couldnât feel them.
For crying out loud . I was beyond desperate, and that wasnât helping. After a few more attempts I thought to take a glove off, and warmed my hand in my armpit. After a minute I was able to work my thumb and fingers. I tried the lighter again. The flame sputtered out the first couple times, but then it held.
The kindling caught, and the flames grew quickly. I added the bigger stuff and went for more. Satisfied that my fire wouldnât die out, I stripped, wrung out my clothes, and spread them out on the branches. As long as I stood in the smoke, I was out of reach of the mosquitoes.
As I stoked the fire and warmed myself through and through, a front was on its way in. The clouds were thickening and the wind started blowing hard enough to make the mosquitoes go to ground.
By now I was coming out of the immediate shock, enough to get a grasp on the situationâcomplete disaster. I remembered Ryan saying that even if we flipped, which wasnât going to happen, all we would lose was our sunglasses.
What about my baseball cap, Ryan? What about the bear spray off my hip? That big tundra grizzly we saw in the river might appear at any second. How are you going to get your boat back? You fool, you clueless fool!
âSORRY,â he had hollered.
What a mistake this had been from the very beginning, the whole thing, and me getting sucked into it on account of him being my brother. Finding huge numbers of caribou to photographâwhat were the chances? Iâd lived up here my whole life and never seen thousands. Never even saw five hundred. And the article he was going to write. What did he know about caribou? How could he write about us, when he wasnât even a hunter? âSorry, Nick, you canât bring your rifle.â
No more than two miles down the river, weâd lost everything. Everything! What was his plan for getting the boat back? The satellite phone was on the raft, and the raft was on its way to the Beaufort Sea. What were our chances of getting rescued without the sat phoneâapproximately zero?
Nice, Ryan, really nice.
Even our bug shirts were on the boat. Heâd said we wouldnât need them when we were out on the river, over the freezing water. Iâd stowed my mosquito repellent tooâafraid of losing it out of my pocket!
Over the next couple hours I dried my clothes by the fire, careful not to scorch them. At last they were dry, and I put them back on, along with my boots, which were still wet but not sopping. Never try to dry them by the fire , Jonah had told me a long time ago. Theyâll get ruined for sure .
Thoughts of Jonah helped me push back the anger and the fear. I was up against it, but not nearly as bad as him. Heâd be expecting me to live through this no matter how bad it got. I had to get ahold of myself and think positive. Who knows, maybe the raft had gotten hung up on something downstream. Maybe Ryan was already down there doing something about it.
It was time I checked to see if my brother was even alive. As I left the sheltering trees, I had little doubt that rain was on the way. Unfortunately, our rain gear was on the raft. I still had my waterproof watchâthat was something. The time was 8:35 p.m.
Smoke was rising from back in the trees a ways down the far side of the Firth. I got ready to holler Ryan out to the shore. No needâhe was standing at riverâs edge farther downstream with his eyes on my side of the river. No more than a hundred yards from where I stood,
For the life of me, I couldnât do it. Couldnât get my thumb on it, couldnât work the thumb when I did. Mosquitoes were buzzing in my ears and landing on my face, drawing blood, no doubt, but I couldnât feel them.
For crying out loud . I was beyond desperate, and that wasnât helping. After a few more attempts I thought to take a glove off, and warmed my hand in my armpit. After a minute I was able to work my thumb and fingers. I tried the lighter again. The flame sputtered out the first couple times, but then it held.
The kindling caught, and the flames grew quickly. I added the bigger stuff and went for more. Satisfied that my fire wouldnât die out, I stripped, wrung out my clothes, and spread them out on the branches. As long as I stood in the smoke, I was out of reach of the mosquitoes.
As I stoked the fire and warmed myself through and through, a front was on its way in. The clouds were thickening and the wind started blowing hard enough to make the mosquitoes go to ground.
By now I was coming out of the immediate shock, enough to get a grasp on the situationâcomplete disaster. I remembered Ryan saying that even if we flipped, which wasnât going to happen, all we would lose was our sunglasses.
What about my baseball cap, Ryan? What about the bear spray off my hip? That big tundra grizzly we saw in the river might appear at any second. How are you going to get your boat back? You fool, you clueless fool!
âSORRY,â he had hollered.
What a mistake this had been from the very beginning, the whole thing, and me getting sucked into it on account of him being my brother. Finding huge numbers of caribou to photographâwhat were the chances? Iâd lived up here my whole life and never seen thousands. Never even saw five hundred. And the article he was going to write. What did he know about caribou? How could he write about us, when he wasnât even a hunter? âSorry, Nick, you canât bring your rifle.â
No more than two miles down the river, weâd lost everything. Everything! What was his plan for getting the boat back? The satellite phone was on the raft, and the raft was on its way to the Beaufort Sea. What were our chances of getting rescued without the sat phoneâapproximately zero?
Nice, Ryan, really nice.
Even our bug shirts were on the boat. Heâd said we wouldnât need them when we were out on the river, over the freezing water. Iâd stowed my mosquito repellent tooâafraid of losing it out of my pocket!
Over the next couple hours I dried my clothes by the fire, careful not to scorch them. At last they were dry, and I put them back on, along with my boots, which were still wet but not sopping. Never try to dry them by the fire , Jonah had told me a long time ago. Theyâll get ruined for sure .
Thoughts of Jonah helped me push back the anger and the fear. I was up against it, but not nearly as bad as him. Heâd be expecting me to live through this no matter how bad it got. I had to get ahold of myself and think positive. Who knows, maybe the raft had gotten hung up on something downstream. Maybe Ryan was already down there doing something about it.
It was time I checked to see if my brother was even alive. As I left the sheltering trees, I had little doubt that rain was on the way. Unfortunately, our rain gear was on the raft. I still had my waterproof watchâthat was something. The time was 8:35 p.m.
Smoke was rising from back in the trees a ways down the far side of the Firth. I got ready to holler Ryan out to the shore. No needâhe was standing at riverâs edge farther downstream with his eyes on my side of the river. No more than a hundred yards from where I stood,
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