Dry for the first time in ten days, our skin felt uncomfortable that afternoon as we sat on the windswept deck of the ferry and watched Tsushima receding into the hazy distance. To the south, Iki-shima came into view with its low hills and long, sandy beaches, and on the opposite side one could just make out the lone, isolated cone of Oki-no-shima. A scattered flock of seabirds had no trouble at all keeping up with the speedy ferryboat for hours, effortlessly following the curves of the waves with their wingtips and riding on the invisible flow of air just above the water. To traverse this kind of distance in a kayak would surely take some effort, but having done no long open crossings, it was hard to imagine what it would feel like. By seven o'clock we had entered the busy Fukuoka harbor, and watched the sun set among islands and ships cluttering the water. Another journey had come to and end, and we felt happy and fully alive.