I’m sure once I tell you that Sarah was naked washing in a stream when a bear wandered up the river 50 yards away from her that you won’t really want to know about our nasty headwind that picked up 2 hours into a 10 mile crossing, or that that crossing took over 10 hours. Maybe the floating rafts of pumice from Katmai volcano would be of passing interest? Or the stunning mountains and golden beaches, or the lovely bivvy we had last night in our waterproof sleeping bags under the stars but ok I’ll get to the point.

We landed on a rocky beach in an onshore wind. Not ideal but our speed of less than 2 knots didn’t encourage us to continue. Once ashore we discovered a stream flowing behind a grassy bank. We checked there were no Salmon in it as we didn’t want to meet a bear protecting his food source. No Salmon but it had a lovely deep pool in it and the sun was out so we decided to wash. I washed my hair viewing to return and wash the rest of me once my hair was dry. Sarah striped off, stood in the pool and washed. Pulling her head up from the water she saw a young bear walking towards her 50 yards away. I heard a shout of “bear” shortly followed by a naked Sarah streaking through the grass back to the beach at rapid speed. I clambered up the bank to see the bear sniffing Sarahs thermals then walking towards me quickly, probably 20 yards away. We both stated shouting which didn’t seen to deter it much but Sarah then threw rocks towards it which made him run off.

Later this evening as we were sat by the fire eating dinner Sarah spotted a bear, probably the same one, foraging in the seaweed 200 metres down the beach. We hollared and banged pans but I don’t think he heard us with the noise of the waves crashing onto the rocks. After a while he came closer and finally heard us. He ambled away into the grass, not in a particular hurry. Hopefully he won’t come back.

An unexpected tail wind had us whooping this morning as we flew along for our first 3 miles. Round the corner we had a10 mile crossing to the NE and the wind died for a couple of miles but then turned into a feisty offshore side wind once we came level with a valley. We paddled into the bay against the wind to avoid being blown too far east out of the bay. This slow safe progress was rewarded once we’d paddled into the wind enough and turned north, and we were blown in the right direction at a decent pace. Hurrah, I thought, we’ll be across in no time and have lunch on the other side. Then without so much as a 30 second lull the wind switched from NW 20 knots to NE 20 knots. We’d evidently crossed the valley where the predominant wind had been overpowered by a local effect. We limped to a waterfall half way across the bay we’d hoped to cross and decided that 11.30am wasn’t too early for lunch. The stove was busted out and Noddle soup made a great treat. We are both hungr y
nearly all the time now. One of Sarah’s most common expressions is “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse”, or occasionally “I’m so hungry I could eat a bear”.

After rinsing our salty drysuits by standing under the power wash torrent from the waterfall, we headed on. Progress into a strengthening wind was so slow that we stopped on a golden sandy beach only about 3 miles further on. We are optimistically waiting before setting up camp, hoping the wind will drop off like it did last night. If so we’ll jump back on the water. It’s 6pm as I write this and there’s no sign of that happening yet. Sarah is having a snooze in the sun on a flat slab of sandy rock which had bizarre canon balls of the same rock within it. I’ve been looking ahead to where we might cross the Shelikov strait to the Kodiak archipelago or the Barren Islands. I have a feeling we’ll be camping here tonight but we remain hopeful for a weather change.

“Splat”, the unseen bird flew off the rock, leaving his gift as he went. I was on my way to the tide line to leave my own morning offering and now I had three white circles on my thermals adding to the other pungent smells. It felt like a blob landed on my forehead too so i washed my face in the sea just in case.

Someone once told me that being pooed on is lucky. I’m not sure I’d go that far but we did make it across the notoriously windy Puale bay today. We had a light headwind all day. It was a bit annoying and it slowed us down a bit but perhaps the now familiar headwind was better than the recent NW wind tunnels because it let us across a crux Bay. We just covered 17 miles today, partly because we had a late start due to glueing Sarah’s kayak together late last night. I’m pleased to report that Krissy stayed in one piece today and is looking good for the last 200 miles or so.

We hugged a spectacular cliffy coastline this morning, serenaded by a choir of kittiwakes and murres perched in tight formation on tiny ledges hundreds of feet above us. The brown rock was too steep and too prone to rockfalls to allow any grass to take purchase and was weathered and cracked like an elephants wissened hide.

Now we’re camped on a lovely tombola looking at the mountains of Kodiak Island on one side. Only about 30 miles away they are glowing pink in the last of the sun. On the other side is the dark silhouette of the mountains we paddled past today. The wind had totally dropped and we are both lingering outside enjoying a beautiful evening instead of getting to bed early.

“It’s windy round here, be careful”, the fisherman warned me today. He was reiterating what another boat skipper and a local pilot had told us about this area. In a north westerly, the winds funnel out of the valleys in the many big bays we need to cross. We’ve been told to add another 10 knots to any NW forecast we’re given. I’d say that’s an underestimate if anything. Today’s predicted 15 knots is still raging, whiping up the bay into white caps and slamming into our Hilleberg tent. We managed to pull off 29 miles today and it felt like we crossed many boundaries into lanes of strong and then weak winds. Sometimes it was obvious that we were crossing a gap between Islands or that a bay would funnel winds in a particular orientation but not always. We got caught out on a 12 mile crossing of Portage Bay, lulled into a false sense of security by a light breeze as we set out. The wind suddenly picked up about 3 miles in but we could sail and make good progress, as long as w e took
an unconservative direct line course. All was well until 3 miles from the end when the wind steped up a notch and changed angle to be more offshore. We had been paddling NE but ended up paddling due North to reach the headland.

Round the corner we met our Kodiak Island fishing tender who was anchored close to shore waiting to take delivery of Salmon from a purse seiner who we’d just passed setting her nets.

“Puale Bay… That’s a blow hole”, he warned referring to the next Bay that we need to cross. And for good measure he added, “Watch out for bears, we saw one on that hill earlier”.

Now camped up less than a mile from “that hill”, but with a raging fire, I got a big shock when carrying Sarah’s kayak up the beach tonight. I heard a sickening crack and the back end felt like it had come away from the rest. It hadn’t totally, 6 clips hold the three pieces of the kayak together and 4 of them had come undone. The metal part that clamps down has bent with the strain on two of the clips and they wouldn’t shut properly. Sarah tried bending then back and she filed the screws down to try to tighten the whole thing up. . No luck. In the end she glued the 2 sections of kayak together with epoxy. Hopefully it will last until we get to Homer which is probably 200-250 miles away now.