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“Just making sure.”
I don’t know how long the channel was, but we remained beneath the tunneled canopy of branches for ten or fifteen minutes. Occasionally she would point to something she’d seen—usually a crab or cluster of crabs—and call out to check if I was still behind her, which struck me as silly, because it would have been nearly impossible to turn around even if I wanted to. Mostly, though, we paddled in silence in what seemed to be another world, both eerie and serene.
In time, the channel began to widen, more sunlight broke through the canopy, and, with a few more strokes, we emerged into a large estuary.
“That was awesome,” Morgan said, her eyes wide. “For a few minutes there, it felt like I was lost in time.”
“I had the same feeling.”
“Where are we?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“Do you know how to get back?”
“Same way we got here, I guess.”
The sun had risen in the sky, and the sudden lack of shade made it feel even more intense. Morgan rested her paddle in her lap and continued taking in the scenery while I did my best not to stare at her exposed skin, glistening with a delicate sheen of sweat.
The current was weak but enough to allow our kayaks to drift farther apart. When I dipped my paddle into the water to close the gap, I noticed a shadow in the water maybe six feet behind Morgan. From my angle, it looked like a log or a rock, but strangely it also seemed to be moving.
A few quick strokes and I zipped past her. As soon as I peered over the side of my kayak into the water, I realized what I was seeing.
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked, rotating her kayak.
“It’s a manatee,” I responded in a hushed voice.
The top of it was maybe a yard below the surface, and I watched its huge, wide flippers paddle almost in slow motion. By then Morgan was approaching, excitement and apprehension in her expression.
“Are they dangerous?”
“No, but it’s probably illegal to get too close. I don’t know for sure, though.”
“I want to see,” she said, paddling in my direction. I leaned over and grabbed her kayak, slowing it until it stopped. Morgan stared into the water.
“It’s huge!” she whispered.
I had no idea how big manatees generally were, but it seemed to be only a little shorter in length than our kayak, maybe the size of a small hippo. Though they sometimes appeared in North Carolina, sightings were rare, and I’d never been that lucky. As I watched, Morgan found her phone and started to take photos. Examining them, she frowned.
“You can’t see it very well. It looks like a big gray blob.”
“Should I hop out and see if I could nudge it even closer to the surface?”
“Can you do that?”
“Not a chance.”
I watched as she rolled her eyes, then she suddenly got excited. “Oh wow! It’s surfacing! Can you push my kayak a bit?”
Using my paddle, I gave her kayak a gentle shove; she closed the distance to the manatee. Even though I was farther away, I realized that it did indeed seem to be rising. The amorphous shape began to clarify, revealing its head and the wide, circular fluke as it rotated first in one direction, then the opposite. My eyes drifted from it to Morgan, who was busy taking pictures as I maneuvered my kayak.
“It keeps moving farther away!” she lamented.
I used my oar to push her again. After a few more photos, she lowered the camera.
“Do you think we’re bothering it?”
“I’m sure they see kayaks out here all the time.” From the corner of my eye, I noticed another shadow off to the right.
