“That’s what everyone here calls me. And it doesn’t help to say my name is Pete. They just nod and say, “Okay, Pierre.” Then they point to the wet suits that need hosing down or the kayaks that have to be pushed off from the shore. My Uncle Jean owns a kayaking company up here in Tadoussac, about five hours northeast of Montreal. He’s got quite the job. Twice a day, he takes groups of tourists out on the St. Lawrence River to watch whales. You should see his tan. Aunt Daisy—she’s my mom’s kid si...ster and Uncle Jean’s wife—says the business is tougher than it looks. “Let’s put it this way,” she told me this morning at breakfast. “You don’t want to be out on the river with a group of inexperienced kayakers when it’s storming. If someone falls in, Jean has less than five minutes to get the person back in the kayak. The St. Lawrence might look harmless—just a body of gray-blue water—but it’s colder than you’d expect. If you fall in, you lose sensation in your extremities—your hands and feet—within three minutes.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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