The mood is dark, the crew mutinous, the supply of soft drinks is running low. The prolonged stay at Hartney, a veritable riverside paradise, has made my second in command, Bernie, soft and undisciplined. I resolve to keep to the ship and avoid Bed and Breakfast lodging for the duration. Days back I piled the remaining cans of Mountain Dew in a pyramid between us amidship. Last night one went missing. I suspect Bernie, but cleverly avoid accusing him. Better to let him fall into my trap.

Unfortunately I don't know who to trust to stand watch.

Captain's Log : July 27

These last two day's have been a war of nerves. I've had to confine my Second Mate, Bernardo, to his quarters. We sit at opposite ends of the vessel watching each other - waiting as it were for the other to blink. The potted tomato plants we aquired at Hartney cover every inch of the deck. I know they will provide us with food in the many months ahead but they are presently beginning to wilt and die from lack of water. There has been no sign of a service station or a 7-Eleven - where will we get water?

Captain's Log : July 29, 1997

We have known for days that ahead lies another stream that joins with the Souris. The water is a blend of two colors, and the current pushes us towards the westernmost bank. Any experienced navigator know the signs. Sure enough - ahead lies the forks of the Souris and the Antler.

You face your next command decision:

But the Antler looks promising. It's a full four metres wide at the mouth and flowing gently. The answer to our mystery could just as well lie up that pleasant alley.