Welcome to Labrador, where the 200 miles of northern coast rise high above the water. Mainland rivers run out into the Labrador Sea through long fjords. The primary surveyed boat channels lead close to precipitous cliffs, so our Mason 44, Frances B, often navigated by what looked like the ramparts of gigantic fortresses. Mountaintops, sliced flat or molded into giant mounds, told of the destructive movement of ancient ice caps. Above them stood higher peaks, 3,000 feet and more, of hard granite patched with winter snow. Caribou lolled on the snow near the coast, seeking a cold breeze to keep away black flies and mosquitoes. The fjords are deep, and we often found icebergs planted in spots where the depth was perfect for anchoring. Most of the time, Frances B dropped the hook on a shelf of river detritus. The river outlets had the best view of the action ashore.