Archive for the ‘justine Curgenven’ Category

The 5 day forecast showed an opportunity to push hard for 3 days and reach the settlement on Atka before some bad weather grounded us. We took the chance and paddled a couple of 10 hour days to put us 21 miles away on the third day. We started the day with a 13 mile crossing of a large Bay in a side wind. The sails helped us maintain a little over 3 knots, increasing to 3.5 when we decided to head inland slightly to improve the angle.

A few people have made comments that we somehow aren’t kayaking if we are using sails. Or suggested that it’s cheating or against the rules. We don’t really have any rules and if it makes us quicker and therefore safer in this remote, windy, cold, unpredictable environment then I’m all for it! We are still paddling but the sails make us quicker in certain conditions, much like a longer, sleeker kayak would or even a rudder. In other ways, they make our journey trickier – gusts can offbalance you more eaisly and the sail and lines on our deck could get tangled or caught on rocks or kelp. Rolling with a sail up is something we aim to avoid as we need to release one of the lines underwater before attempting it.

I digress…. I wanted to talk about Atka. I didn’t know much about this city of 75 people before coming here. I knew they had a fish processing plant, 3000 reindeer and an airport that is serviced from Dutch Harbour 3 times a week. Local resident Crystal Dushkin agreed to let us ship some food and supplies ahead to her. When we arrived, she arranged for many of the Atka folks to meet us at the beach and perform a traditional drum dance. The kids got to leave school early so they were happy! Both Sarah and I found it really moving to be greeted in such a dynamic and special way.Overall for me sailing is a new and exciting extra dimension to a paddling trip and I like the fact that we are travelling through waters that the Aleuts paddled hundreds of years ago. I’ve seen old photos of their iqyax (kayaks) with sails- so I somehow feel like we’re using good style.

We soon learnt that the dancing is just one way that Atka is a hotbed for preserving local Aleut culture. It’s the only place where the ‘Unangax’ language is currently spoken in every day conversation. They have a cultural camp every year where the youngsters are taught traditional skills like making kayaks (iqyax), weaving grass baskets, dancing and harvesting sea food. On our first night we were treated to Sea lion soup and reindeer bolognase. Last night we had battered halibut and three salmon dishes – breadcrumed, baked and smoked. Today Crystal and Danny took us to the seashore at low tide and we harvested sea urchins, chitons and sea weeds. They showed us how to eat the various parts so we can supplement our diet from now on along the chain. I really enjoyed the sea urchin eggs and will definitely be finding some more of them.

It’s always really interesting to chat to people who live in a remote and unusual place. Atka has a happy, friendly feel to it as well as having an important role in keeping alive the Unangax culture. The people seem to love being so close to nature, living from the land and their lack of ‘big brother’. I feel privileged to have spent a few days enjoying an insight into a way of life that is often overlooked in the fast pace of modern life.

We’ve had 3 days in Atka – the first two were too windy to paddle (a 25knots headwind). Today was still a headwind but more like 10-15knots. We simply weren’t organized enough to leave this morning after spending the first two days in a whirlwind of being looked after, fed, shown around and taught what goodies will help us survive if we end up stuck on a remote island for longer than our food lasts. In the end we decided not to rush off this afternoon, but to leave first thing tomorrow morning and have a full day of paddling… albeit into a headwind still.

So thanks to the kind folks of Atka for welcoming us so warmly. And onwards from here until our next brush with civilization in Nikolski, an even smaller community of about 16 people 250 miles along the chain. I expect this next leg to be our most challenging – with several long crossings through tidal passes with not entirely precise information about the currents. Once across, the landings are scarce and affected by the ever-present swell. While I’m looking forward to spending some time in this rarely visited part of the world, we’ll be hoping for some good weather to let us reach Nikolski before our food (or patience) runs out!

You can follow our progress via a tracker on Sarah’s website. Sarah varies how often it updates – often every 6 hours, but we might make it more often during the tricker crossings. Sarah’s blog is here.

I try to put up a photo on Facebook every day (it formats it weirdly if I do it onto my blog), and Sarah puts out regular tweets. I’ll also try to write a short blog post most days on here.

“Knock Knock”, a knuckle rapped gently on the door of our borrowed house on Adak. I was just after 9am. I tried to leap out of bed, but my calves, thighs and shoulders screamed at me to take it easy. I hobbled down the stairs as quickly as I could and just caught Elaine moments before she left our breakfast on the doorstep. Inside, she put water on for coffee and tea while I rubbed sleep from my eyes. It took me a minute to realise that she was carrying enough pancakes, burgers and fried potatoes to feed a small army. Imelda, who cooks for 300 fish plant workers through the cod fishing season had taken time to made us a feast, knowing that we’d be tired and hungry from our 20 hours of walking over the last 2 days.

5 days into our stay on Adak, Sarah, Lucy and I have well and truly made ourselves at home. Our house is one of several hundred that were built by the US navy during the second world war to house the thousands of troops stationed here. They look like housing estates anywhere, except there are no signs of life. It’s quite eerie to walk or drive along the empty streets, with no cars, no washing lines full of clothes, no kids toys in the gardens, no people, no noise. The 100 permanent residents of Adak are scattered about in the houses, as are 100 contractors here as part of an on-going project to dispose of the many ordnances (bombs, mines etc) left on the island

We’ve been busy sorting out our kayaks and kit – glueing, wrapping, consolidating, drilling, trimming and organising. We’ve packed enough food for 3-4 weeks because villages and food supplies are few and far between. We’ve even removed the edges off our dehydrated meals despite one friend commenting that we ‘shouldn’t be cutting corners on our expedition’.

6 months ago Sarah arrived from Japan in her rowing boat in a small cove on the South coast of Adak. To ‘join the dots’ of her human powered journey we spent the last 2 days walking there and back. It’s about 9 miles one way along a vague hiking trail, used more by the introduced caribou than by people. The island map said it should take 11 hours which I found hard to believe – surely we wouldn’t travel less than 1 mile/ hour!? After a couple of hours of route finding, stream crossing, bog-hopping, hill climbing and heavy panting I began to wonder whether it would take us longer than that. Fortunately it doesn’t get dark until after 10pm and it was an amazing walk through a little-visited wild island. I enjoyed becoming familiar with the small plants and lichens growing in this treeless landscape & I loved the ever-changing views, the sweet fresh air and the sense of adventure. We finally made it to a lovely campsite above Camel Cove after 9 hours. The return journey took 11 as we took a ‘shortcut’ through an unnamed pass which turned out to be a steep snow-filled gully surrounded by cliffs! Now we’re back in Adak town, we are being really well looked after by the locals. Elaine has lent us her truck, fed us caribou-dog from animals that she hunted last year and tonight we are going to have a Banja (sauna) at her house to ease our aching muscles. Imelda has been feeding us most days and others are showing us their warm hearts every day. It’s a privilege to have an insight into the way of life in such a remote island community.

Kayaking – we hope to start on Sunday or Monday after Sarah’s fiancee Lucy flies home.

We all have choices in life. I feel lucky that most of my choices are between 2 ‘good’ options. For example do I take the low road or the high road? Should I stay or should I go? Given those options – I usually take the high road, and I usually go. Right now I’m on a train down to Oxford at the start of my journey along the Aleutian island chain and the Alaskan peninsula. It promises to be as big and bold an adventure as any I’ve undertaken. I thrive on these wild, unpredictable voyages of discovery where I have to rely on my wits and a few carefully chosen possessions to safely travel through a magical landscape. I even enjoy the hardships – at least when I relive them ‘afterwards’. These experiences where I have to work hard for my comfort, food and propulsion definitely make me happier, calmer, nicer.

The other side of the coin is the people and places I chose to be apart from for sometimes long periods of time. Wales has been so beautifully summery this last week. The countryside oozes with the promise of new life. A paddle with Barry along the gorgeous coastline of the “Stacks” felt poignant as my ‘last’ Welsh paddle until August probably. I’ll miss the people I care about and I’ll miss the explosion of spring flowers, the noisy return of nesting sea birds and friends having babies, bbqs and burgers.

 

It’s just over a week before I fly to the Aleutian islands for an amazing kayaking adventure with Sarah Outen. My stomach is dancing circles in a mixture of nerves and excitement.

The long volcanic arm of the Aleutian islands is somewhere I have dreamt of paddling for years. The wild, rugged archipelago draws me in for the very reasons it makes me apprehensive. Strong currents, raging tidal races, relentless winds, thick fog, long crossings, rocky landings, unchartered waters and hundreds of miles with no people. Throw in a few active volcanos, the occasional hot springs, birds, whales, remote communities and the chance to spend weeks learning to feel a part of this landscape & I can’t wait. I love exploring little visited corners of the world where nature is the indisputable boss. I’m looking forward to some beautiful paddling, meeting the people who eek out a living in remote outposts and even some long, tough, character building days. The fog, wind and rain aren’t part of the attraction, but they’re part of the package!

The pilot gives sobering reading,

“The shores are generally precipitous; the breakers are heavy and in many cases the approaches are filled with jagged rocks and kelp beds…. All passages in the Aleutian islands have strong currents. In narrow Akun Strait, the current is reported to reach a velocity of 12 knots….The weather of the Aleutians is characterized by persistently overcast skies, strong winds and violent storms… On Adak there is an average of 341 days with measurable precipitation”.

The plan is to kayak approx. 1,400 nautical miles from Adak island (the far westernmost pin on the map at the top) to the nearest road in Homer on mainland Alaska (the 2nd pin from the east – the furthest east pin is Anchorage where we fly to initially). The other pins on the map mark small villages or the occasional larger towns like Unalaska, where Dutch Harbour is.

For Sarah Outen this is part of a wider journey to travel around the world by human power. She’s had quite an adventure so far while kayaking, cycling and rowing from London to Adak. I joined her on the kayaking legs from London to France & Russia to Japan, & she’s become a great friend. Last Summer, I had a call from Sarah’s tiny rowing boat in the middle of the Pacific ocean saying winds were preventing her from making it to Vancouver before winter and how did I fancy kayaking along the Aleutian islands with her? Despite the fact that Sarah hasn’t had a massive amount of kayaking experience, she has the stamina & perseverance of 20 oxen and a positive can-do attitude that has me laughing at the direst situation. She’s been home for the last 6 months and in-between organising, catching up with friends, family and her fiancee, Sarah has been training hard in her trusty Rockpool Menai-18. Big thanks to Barry Shaw who has given Sarah many days of great coaching. She’s now rolling in the waves, paddling skilfully in currents and interpreting the dynamic tidal environment.

Preparing for a big trip takes a lot of time but we’re nearly there. We’ve been on a great survival and foraging course with Patrick & Scott from Backwoods Survival School. Caroline Knox gave us fantastic instruction and advice on dealing with any medical issues that we might encounter – from the best way to clean a wound to dealing with anaphylactic shock & stitching. Kev Robinson kindly printed 35 charts for each of us (!) and we’ve been diligently writing information on the big wad from the on-line pilot, and from anyone willing and able to share information, for example Keirron Tastagh & Rob Avery who have kayaked in the Aleutians before, & Jeff Hancock who runs Aleutian Adventure Sports on Unalaska. We’re printing tidal information from the various passes we have to cross and trying not to gulp at figures of 5 and 6 knot currents (occasionally more), all of which are not in a useful direction. We’re travelling East – the currents are mainly bounding along to the North or South, kicking up a lively sea as they go. We are taking 3-piece kayaks and they start their journey to Anchorage tomorrow in some lovely bags custom made by AlpKit.

Taking apart my 3piece Etain after paddling from Russia to Japan

We’ve been busy contacting local people in the Aleutians & on the Alaskan peninsula and we’ll arrange to send some food and maps ahead of us to some of them. Thanks to everyone who has helped so far.

 Some Stats:

Who: Sarah Outen & Justine Curgenven
Where: 1400 nautical miles island hopping from Adak to Homer
When: Fly to Anchorage 23rd April, fly to Adak 27th April. Start kayaking early May.
Biggest crossing: 37 nautical miles
Longest distance without any people: 250 nautical miles between Atka & Nikolski
Biggest challenges: Changeable weather, strong winds, fast currents, many tidal rips, inhospitable coastline, remoteness, length of trip (2-4 months).

All smiles after a 40 nautical mile paddle from Russia to Japan

I don’t think anyone in the last 200 years has attempted a journey of this scale in the Aleutian islands but in the 1700s an estimated 16,000 Aleuts lived in villages along the Aleutian chain. They crossed between islands in skin-on-frame kayaks with none of the technology that we have today. The book Baidarka by George Dyson has a lot of information about the islands and the kayaks, or read a good summary here. Whenever the journey seems hard and treacherous to me, I remember these hardy people who travelled the route before us. I imagine they waited for the right time to make crossings and didn’t rush over in unfavourable weather. We’ll have to exercise the same caution and judgement to safely complete our journey.

How to follow our journey:

We have an iridium extreme sat phone & Axcess Point which will allow us to send short daily progress reports and photographs by using the sat phone as a wifi hotspot.

There will be a map to show our progress on Sarah’s website here – probably updated every 6 hours.

Sarah regularly posts twitter updates here. I have a twitter account here, but am more likely to post photos on Facebook to the Cackle TV Page – although perhaps I will need to do this to  on my personal page using the Iridium access point ( we still have to configure that). We will both put up blogs every so often as well – mine is here. Sarah’s is here.

I’ll write more on this blog before we set off, including information on the kit that we’re taking.

Feeling inspired? Check out our store for great sea kayaking adventure films on DVD or as downloads.