Anyway, a big storm came up as Mishap and I were paddling along
the coast - that's a fact. We sought shelter in the small Koryak village of
Vvenka - another fact. Does that sit better in your cynical, Western,
consumer-oriented, fun-hog brain?

The people fed us and gave us a warm house to sleep in and we
dried our soggy clothes. We met the old lady, Moolynaut. She didn't pass
on any great mantras to chant into my quartz crystals when I returned to
North America. Most of the time she was bent over on the summer tundra
cleaning fish. If there was any message that she conveyed, it was, "Work
hard when the salmon are running, cause you gotta eat come winter."

When the storm ended and we prepared to leave, she stood up, all
bent over and wrinkled, fixed me with an intense stare, and muttered
something in the guttural Koryak tongue.

One of the women translated into Russian, and Misha carried the
words into English, "She says you men should come back. It will be good for
you. It will be good for the people of Vvenka."

And you know what? We came back. That's a third fact.