Justine’s Blog

We crept slowly over 700 naughties (or nautical miles) this evening despite the wind and current continuing to create a backwards conveyer belt that we must paddle against to make progress. Today their friend claphotis joined the fun (rebounding waves). The swell rolling in bounced off the cliffs and rippled back out to sea colliding with the next incoming waves. The resulting confused chop was hard work to paddle through as the waves came from all directions and our bows crashed down into troughs, losing momentum.

This morning was set aside for kit maintenance. Sarah washed a huge amount of sand out of Krissy, her kayak, and tended to a few other repairs. She used super glue and Gaffa tape to try to seal her broken drysuit zip. I cooked pancakes and tortilla wraps on the fire and caught up with other jobs. I should mention that the fire was still burning from the night before as Sarah burns the biggest logs she can find to ward off curious or hungry bears, and tops it up during the night if she wakes up.

By the time we got on the water it was nearly 4pm. We paddled around part of the Ikatan peninsula on the SE tip of Unimak, a grand high rise cliff with colourful red stripes. The swell was breaking over shallow rocks and we had to paddle up to a mile out to sea to go around the many prominent headlands that were fringed with white. It felt like it took a ridiculous amount of time to travel 12 miles or so round to East Anchor Cove, although the last mile was happily in a side wind rather than a headwind! We landed at 10pm and our now ticked up on the tent. Roaring fire not too far away naturally!

We hope to reach King Cove in a few days. Sarah’s zip sticking wasn’t a total success and her spare dry suit is being sent to King cove from Anchorage ( Thanks Scott and Debbie). Thanks also to the kind lady in Unalaska who gave us some homemade salmonberry jam. It was yummy on pancakes!

Massive congratulations to my good friends Kay and Dan for the birth of little Ruby on Monday!

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.