Then just as we began to cross the Sound, two spouts broke the surface of the water just in front of us. My stomach tightened as aderenaline shot through my veins, “s#!@, s#!@, s#!@” I chanted loudly as I back paddled with all my force, visions of whale back islands crudely beaching us. The slick grey backs rolled up and back under, the humpback fins cresting the top of their arc, just 25 feet in front of us. Our arms strained to turn our sluggish crafts out of the path of the whales, but before we could even stop our forward momentum we heard the whales forceful blowspouts and looked to see their backs breaking the water 40 feet behind us. “OK that was scary,” I said stating the obvious. “I told you,” Doug countered. We spent the rest of the crossing waiting for whale pods to pass in the distance before making our moves.