The sandwich was not supposed to be a terminal sandwich.

My sister opened her sandwich while we were waiting for the ferry. I said we were meant to eat on the island. She looked through the wrapping at the cheese and asked whether it knew.

We had planned the day together, in the sense that I had sent a long message and she had replied with a thumbs-up. I took this to mean that she shared my interest in fitting three walks, lunch and a long sit by the water into one afternoon.

The departure was later than we had expected. We checked the information at the terminal and the current service update. Neither of us had an appointment on the other side. Even so, I began recalculating the afternoon on my phone, removing minutes from the part where we were supposed to sit down.

My sister ate another bite. "What did you actually want to do today?"

She had read the short version.

I said I wanted to take the boat, walk somewhere green and spend time with her. She said she had agreed to precisely that. The three separate walks had not made it into her understanding of the invitation.

We checked what would work with the crossing and the return options available that day. We picked one walk. If we wanted to go farther once we were there, we could decide then. We also agreed that either of us could ask to sit down without opening negotiations.

I ate my sandwich. It was quite good at the terminal. My sister took a photograph of me admitting this, which I expect to encounter again at some inconvenient family occasion.

The boat still counted.

When we boarded, I put the list away. She wanted to watch the water from a sheltered spot. I wanted to stand outside for a little while. We did both. The crossing was part of the day I had described wanting, but I had been treating it mainly as the time before we could start.

On the island we walked, then found somewhere to sit. We talked about our father's new habit of sending voice messages that began with several seconds of silence. My sister could imitate the full opening. It took a while.

We checked the return information again before heading back. I did not try to add one last detour. The other paths would still be there another time; my sister was there now and wanted a drink.

At home she sent me the photograph. The message said "Lunch, location uncertain." I saved it next to the list, which had been much less useful.

Planning a real ferry trip? Check the City of Toronto's current routes, schedules and service notices.