But even so, I was more alert that evening as we sat on logs at the forest edge with a tiny crackling fire, watching the thin grey smoke drift out across the still water. There were a lot of shadows that could be bears if you watched them for long enough. That night I lay on the flat ground, the musty smell of rotting leaves and pungent tree resins in my nostrils. I was comfortable. I d enjoyed my meal, and my coffee, and a wee dram of good single malt Scottish Island whisky, and although one ear was still listening for the footsteps of a bear, I was quickly asleep.
Some people call it a Chinese alarm clock.
I crawled from my sleeping bag and out from the tent. As I stumbled naked into the darkness, my eyes gradually focussed on nothing. Instinctively I looked up, but if there was a sky above me it was completely black. It had been almost dark in there when it was still light on the beach, but now I couldn t see anything at all. I turned to look for the tent.