The sound of water soothes the soul. We can close our eyes and hear its rush against the sides of the hull. The ship is quiet. All are asleep or in their beds. The lapping comes in pulses, loud then soft. How do we recognize this liquid resonance? From infancy, each human is drawn to it, back to the memories of a watery beginning.

It changes during the day. The early morning sun shines on our faces and the bow of the ship creeps closer and closer to the base of a falls. The sound is now a roar and our tactile senses are stimulated by a cooling mist flung from a waterfall, a satin ribbon ornamenting a gift of green mountain sides. A plethora of verdant tapestries, each uniquely tied to form the containment for Red Bluff Bay.

Further north in Warm Springs Bay, the angle of river flow is changed and the volume too. A very different place but we are drawn nearer just the same. Its thundering tumble from lake towards shore reverberates from the soles of our feet to the tips of our fingers as we clamber forward lifting our faces to become one with the spray.

We share our watery world with other mammals too. Seven giant humpback whales burst from the surface of Chatham Strait through a net of bubbles entrapping their prey. The turbulence of their bodies and their forceful exhales add another dimension to the sound of the sea.