Archive for the ‘kayaking’ Category

Another 11 hour day with not too many miles to show for it. The wind was against us but thankfully was less than forecast but we had almost a knot of current pushing us backwards all day.

The swell was up with a few 2- 3 metre waves rolling through. We paddled half a mile offshore to avoid being caught by a rogue breaker but the constant grinding sound of pounding water onto sand and the white spray shot violently into the air on impact was a bit intimidating. The small rocky headland that we had purposely camped besides offered some protection and we both managed to time our launches so we didn’t get our hair wet. I pushed Sarah off so she could stay as dry as possible with her broken dry suit zip. She wore her storm cag over the dry suit and sat on it to try to prevent water going down her zip. It had mixed success and she ended the day damp rather than soaking.

We had hoped to find a relatively surf free landing just round the corner from the big surf bay but we had to paddle a mile and a half out to sea to get around some big breakers at the headland. We decided it was worth pushing on to a better protected landing even though we knew it would be a very late night with the current against us. So 11 hours later, without getting out of the kayak once, we landed at 10.30pm.

The easterly winds are due to continue for at least 2 more days. We’re planning a lie and and a later start tomorrow.

It’s been a memorable first of July! A headwind and opposing current for most of the day ensured that effort in was far greater than miles awarded. After an 11 hour day, I think we only covered about 18 miles (I haven’t added it up yet). Whenever we stopped for a break, we could see ourselves drifting back past the beach we’d just clawed our way along. Why bother? We’re on a 30 mile dumping surf beach in about 1 metre swell. The swell and headwind are due to increase over the next few days so we want to get out of here before we get stuck or damage something.

Landing and launching were exciting enough today. At lunchtime we both surfed in and managed to pull out kayaks up the beach. Sarah came to help me pull mine up a bit further when an extra large wave came and the powerful back wash pulled Krissy back into the path of the next dumper. Sarah ran to the rescue but she couldn’t save Krissy from being turned upside down, pummeled and filled with sand. Later that afternoon Sarah tried to have a pee at sea. Usually we raft up and she stands on my back deck and her cockpit. She did what age needed to do but the couldn’t do her drop seat zip up because it was clogged with sand. I tried to do it for but couldn’t. Meanwhile it’s taken longer than expected and we’ve drifted to about 10 metres from the dumping surf. I hold the kayaks together while Sarah tries to paddle us out to sea (while kneeling). We realise we won’t be able to do up the zip so Sarah starts pumping out the water that’s sloshed into her cockpit before sitting down. We’re
back in the dumping surf zone so we abandon that and she has to sit on a wet seat with her zip open. Being hard as nails she says she’s Ok to paddle on and a couple of hours later needs to pee again. Because the zip is stuck partly open, poor Sarah ended up largely peeing into her drysuit.

Safely on land by one of the only small headlands along the beach, Sarah’s zip is now sandfree but broken and won’t fully do up.

That’s probably enough drama for one day but just as Sarah was about to walk 400 metres to the river to wash dishes, she spots a massive bear plodding along the beach in the same direction. Out come the pans and we bang them loudly, try to look big and make lots of noise. The result? The bear stands still and looks over in our direction curiously. More banging and screaching and we retreat to the freshly lot fire. The bear wanders on his way to the stream, looking over at us frequently but not looking the slightest bit afraid. That was a couple of hours ago and we’ve not seen him since, nor have we ventured to the stream. Sarah has made the world’s largest fire, every scrap of food is in the kayaks, bear spray is at the ready so it’s time for bed.

We were worried about all the of the above today as we crossed to Unimak island across a busy shipping channel. The wind was stronger than forecast again and the pass was littered with white capped waves big enough to give me a good wash a few times. We chose to cross on the ebb current to avoid rougher wind against tide conditions and to get a push to the east but there were extensive tide rips anyway. Nothing too scary, it was a side wind and Sarah sailed through it all – testament to her improved confidence and skills.

Ugamak was cloaked in a blanket of fog when we woke up and we feared we’d not be able to see any speeding ships in the 4 mile wide shipping channel that we had to cross. Fortunately as we rounded the Southeast corner of Ugamak, the lower slopes of one of Unimak’s volcanos was visible 10 miles away. We could see all the way across and spotted two big ships.

We bounced into the pass and were immediately shot East by a 4 knot current. Our speed was good, our direction not so great as Unimak lay 10 miles to the North and northeast. Gradually the current eased and became more favourable and our course curved round so we’d hit land.

No ships appeared on the horizon during our 90 minutes in the shipping channel but a small dot became a large fishing boat that wizzed past after we were safe.

The wind eased as we approached land and the clouds lifted to reveal the perfect icy cone of Shishaldin piercing the sky at over 9000 feet high. When not grazing up in wonder, our eyes were scanning the land for any sign of bears as Unimak is the first place where we are in danger of not being top of the food chain. The first evidence came when we landed. The black sandy beach is a tapestry of bear footprints. We put the tent up in a clear patch and cooked well away from it. There are no trees here so all our food is in the kayaks. I took extra care not to spill any of my dinner on my face and Sarah was careful not to decorate her clothes.

After a 30 mile day, a 30 mile surf beach lies ahead of us. There isn’t much surf now so we hope that continues for how ever long it takes us to get past the beach.

After 3 hours we were still lost. We thought it would be straightforward to follow the coast and reach the cabin but we hadn’t counted on the mist or having to detour around cliffs. Why didn’t we bring a map or gps!? The day had started promisingly, after 2 days off at the puffin palace waiting for the wind to drop below 20 knots, we waved goodbye to Stacie and Amanda and launched into the calmest sea we’d seen for a few days. It turned out that Ugamak Island to our North was sheltering us and after a mile we were in the path of a stronger than forecast northerly wind and rows of white caps appeared. It could be a blustery crossing I thought. Once we rounded the SW corner of the island we were hit by 25 knot northerly gusts which made it hard to make progress. We weren’t sure if the wind was being accelerated around the coast but the gusts were powerful and we decided today wasn’t a day for a 10 mile crossing paddling directly into that wind. The vertical cliffs on the east coast
offered no camping options so we turned back, hoping we might be able to land by a cabin on the south coast where 3 guys are researching the sea lion colony. We think we saw someone in a yellow jacket on top of the cliffs and I was tempted to land on some rocks in between 2 beaches full of sea lions and run up to say Hi. I think I could have avoided disturbing any sea lions but is there’s a 3 mile exclusion zone around the colony so I thought better of it. We landed at the first available beach, an awkward, sloping gulch full of slippery seaweedy boulders, just a mile away from the sandy beach of the puffin palace on Aiktak opposite us. It was tempting to return to the friendly smiles of Amanda and Stacie but we thought we’d go and say hi to the sea lion researchers instead and maybe learn a bit about what they’re doing.

We should have taken a gps or map as we totally failed to find them or their cabin. We climbed up into the mist and spent 3 hours tramping up hills, traversing grassy slopes, scrambling up rocky gullies and peering into a whiteout, ever hopeful of a tiny cabin or the lake that it sits near appearing from the gloom. Perhaps we saw the lake as we saw water 200 metres below us a few times but thought it was probably the sea. By the time we descended from the whiteout, we’d missed them a second time and were nearly back at our kayaks. Time to make the best of a lumpy, hard campsite and not think about the awkward launch tomorrow morning (fingers crossed for lighter winds ).