Archive for the ‘kayaking’ Category

I nearly suggested going back to sleep for another hour when the alarm sounded at 5am. I hadn’t slept well and the wind was due to be more favourable in the afternoon. .. But we had a mission to try to reach a bear free island about 35 miles away so we needed all the daylight hours available. On the water at 6.30, we paddled into a beautiful rising sun, a giant red orb peaking out from a distant headland bringing an orange glow to the snowy mountains on the horizon. It was worth the early start for that moment alone.

The forecast warned of a 9ft swell. It wasn’t quite that big but waves from almost every direction collided to make a sporty sea. A NW wind blew the top off the waves for the first couple of hours, which hit us side on. Sarah requested less wind and her wish was granted. The sea was ominously calm for 3 hours. Our speed dropped off about the time I realised it was a 20 mile crossing to the mainland, not 16 as I’d thought. I’d measured it from an island we’d initially hoped to camp on that was 4 miles closer! Fortunately the forecast SW wind finally kicked in giving us a nice push to the beautiful Kuprenof point, a steep craggy headland with lush grass covering the few flatter areas. About 50 sea lions lay draped over a cluster of small rocks.

Five miles around the corner, a sandy beach protected from the various swells provided a lunch spot at 3pm. We’d have been pretty happy with that 25 mile paddle on most days but we were on the Alaskan mainland, home of bears. With a following sea we set our sights on an island a bit further up the coast where we hoped there wouldn’t be any bears. We finally landed on Jacob Island at 7.50pm after 12 hours of paddling. I’m happy to report there are no signs of bears although we’re still taking precautions.

We hope to reach the small community of Perryville tomorrow where our last resupply of food should be waiting for us. It’s only about 13 miles away so perhaps we won’t set the alarm for 5am.

The thing that makes today’s Easterly wind so beastly is it’s persistence. This is our 6th consecutive day of headwinds and probably the 5th time we’ve had 5-8 days of Easterlies. All the locals here tell us the weather this year is better than usual and it’s true that we haven’t encountered the wild storms that I was expecting, but the downside of that for the 3mph paddler seems to be frequent Easterlies. The headwinds are mostly possible to paddle against but they grind us down physically and mentally. We fight against every wind wave for progress, and watch our hard won progress slip backwards whenever we stop for food or a pee. Our speed drops to 2 or 2.5 miles an hour and the 20 miles I like to paddle a day can take 10 hours. Today we have a 16 mile crossing and we woke at 7am to find the NOAA forecast had increased to a 25 knot headwind. The sea didn’t look too bad but our other forecast had also upped the ante, increasing to 17knots this afternoon. I was tempted to give it
a go as we could always turn back. I don’t doubt that we could limp to the peninsula even if we “only” got 17 knots for a time but we decided discretion was the better part of valor and went back to sleep. The forecast (finally) promises us 4 days of westerlies starting tomorrow so we’re probably better off saving our energy for an early start tomorrow and as Sarah puts it “crack out a fat one”. Still, I always feel a bit uneasy if I take the easy option and don’t give things a go so I was pleased to discover more white caps on the sea when I got up for a pee a couple of hours later. It would have been at best “unpleasant” out there today.

So as all good expeditioners do, we slept until midday, then immediately started eating when we got up ( peanut butter and salmon Berry jam on muffins for breakfast, thanks for asking)! I’m looking forward to reading and taking a short walk this afternoon and I will go to sleep dreaming of West winds (South West ideally please)!

Rousing Unangan drumming and singing brought a lump to my throat as we pushed off from Sand point this morning. We’re meeting a few people more than once as we travel along the chain including Sally from Atka who is in sand point to teach at the culture camp and who was passing through dutch harbour. Sally led the “tide is rising” song as others held a poster and waved us on our way. Three different people pressed gifts of smoked salmon into our grateful palms. Yum and yum and yum. We enjoyed some for lunch and dinner today. Thanks to everyone for another warm welcome, especially Michael Livingston for putting us up, showing us round and feeding us.

Easterly winds continue to make us work hard for every mile. Today it was a NE wind which was bang on the nose. We took 3 hours to cross to Korovin island in squally weather, cheered on only by frequent whale blows and the occasional tail. We had hoped to reach the next island, Karpa, but settled for as far east as we could get on Korovin. Partly because progress was slow and partly because the island looked particularly steep with no obvious places we could camp.

About a dozen otters interrupted their party to look at us from close quarters and many more popped their heads up at us along the impressive cliffy coast. We’re camped on a small steep beach in brilliant sunshine. The tshirts came out this afternoon in a hopeless quest to get rid of our paddlers tan ( Brown hands, white everything else!).

We have a 16 mile crossing to make from here in an ENE direction to get back onto the peninsula. Tomorrow’s forecast is NE 20 knots according to NOAA or ENE 8-11 knots according to Karel. Neither are great but if Karel is right we’ll probably go for it and accept is going to be a long slog.

“If you can’t get hold of me then just call 911”, Mike Livingston wrote in an email a few days before we arrived in the community of Sand Point. In reality, there was no need to call the emergency services to report being a bit wet and cold as Police Sergent Livingston met us in the harbour, along with a couple of dozen other folks who had been following us on Sarah’s tracker. As usual in all these small fishing communities, we have been welcomed with open arms, and on this occassion a glass of Scottish single malt! We’ve been here 3 days so far while Easterly winds whip up unfavourable kayaking conditions. Relaxing and catching up with bits of work on Mike’s computer have featured highly on our activity list, as has chatting with locals and eating all sorts of delicious cakes, homemade salmon pate and white king slamon. Berries are at last on our menu as we’ve travelled far enough east to find ripe salmon berries. They are easily three-times the size of the wild raspberries that I find in Wales which means that we either get full quicker, or eat more! YUM!

There are 4 policemen here in a town of 900 residents and 200 cannery workers. They seem fairly busy, with people occupying both of their small police cells tonight. Sarah and I have been on our best behaviour as we’re staying with Mike and enjoying being driven around in his police car – taking it in turns to sit in the front, or in the back with bars on the windows.

Today was the first day of Sand Point’s 12 day ‘Culture Camp’, where dozens of kids get together to learn traditional Aleut craft skills that are being lost in a sea of ‘progress’. In King Cove, I chuckled when we talked to 6 year old Jada about making popcorn while out camping. “Oh, you make it the ‘old’ way”, she said inbetween mouthfulls of her microwaved bag, which she was generously sharing with us. If putting some corn kernels and oil into a pan is too difficult then it’s a wonder that any traditional skills survive with all the machinery available to ‘make things quicker, more efficient and easier’. It was great to see kids chatting and laughing and settling down to try their hand at weaving baskets out of grasses, making headresses from beads, preparing seafood to eat and making an Aleut kayak. Sharon Kay, who has been teaching basket weaving for 20 years told us how she feels it’s important to pass on these skills.

“It’s our way of preserving our culture. You see more things in museums than you see in our own land so it’s my way of keeping our culture alive”.

It takes 40-50 hours to weave a small basket and that doesn’t include preparing the grass for weaving. The end result is very beautiful and the finest weaved baskets would have been used for carrying liquids.

It seems the weather is conspiring to keep us in many of the communities that we visit along our Aleutian journey. Easterly winds tend to blow for several days while we’re in the comfort of a warm house, getting to know people. 20 knot headwinds are forecast for the next 2 days so perhaps we’ll be here a bit longer – unless the reality is different. It seems in contrast to the last few days of paddling we had to reach here. Our last day paddling along the beautiful Unga island was fairly calm with just a gentle wind pushing us in the right direction. We enjoyed several stops exploring the only forest in the Aleutian islands. Black and white tree stumps and wood fragments litter several miles of beach on the west coast of Unga, and pass by inches under our hulls. Only these trees are made of solid rock – a forest engulfed in mud or ash 25 million years ago, and the wood slowly seeped into by minerals, which preserved the original grain. I’m enjoying my time in Sand Point, but I’m looking forward to getting back on the open sea and finding more natural wonders along the beautiful Alaskan peninsula.