While Kate stands up at the back of her canoe, casting her rod, and drinking a can of beer from a six pack she brought, I pass the bottle back and forth with Sam some more. The canoe must have passed into shallower water, because the waves, which have grown into ocean-like swells, suddenly get steeper. Sam has the bottle to her mouth when one picks up the stern of the catamaran and tilts us forward so far that her paddle leaves the water. The boat starts to rotate, but before it can turn broadside to the waves Sam throws the bottle back to me, reaches down and out with the paddle, and draws blades full of water in to correct our course. Kate laughs as she almost falls overboard and Sam screams “Kate, help me out, or at least sit down so we don’t have to rescue you.” But she keeps on fishing, even as a second and third wave picks us up and pushes us with nerve-racking speed towards the shore. Then Kate gets a catch.