
Wendy Killoran
Frenetic waves jostled my kayak in a confounded frenzy. The mistral winds tore over the tepid Mediterranean Sea and waves rebounded in a chaotic mess off the granitic cliffs. But the box of waves I found myself in was created by the continuous wakes of yachts, sailboats and jet skis, which plied the enticing Costa Smeralda in northern Sardinia. There was no predictability to the waves rolling beneath my kayak’s hull. I dug in and plodded on.