Justine’s Blog

Sarah and I both had a dip in the water today. Mine came after launching through dumpy surf. Rather than take 20 seconds to put my spray deck on and risk being pushed sideways onto the rocks by a wave, I stood in the wash from the surf and waited until after a wave broke, then pushed my kayak into the water and jumped on it, swinging my legs into the cockpit while paddling out. Ideally I would have made it beyond the break before the next wave broke but I didn’t and I ended up paddling out to Sarah with a cockpit full of water (but without a collision with any rocks!) The easiest way to empty my cockpit was for me to sit on Sarah’s back deck while she pulled my kayak over her front deck and emptied it. It turns out it was too heavy to do that so I first of all jumped in the water, and then climbed on her front deck to help. Thanks to my kokatat suit, I was warm and dry after my dip.

The swell was bigger today than any other day we’ve paddled and the wind picked up to 20 knots at times creating an exciting sea. Sarah had a different word for it after about 3 hours when we ended up in a big eddy behind Chagulak island. Even though we were over 3 miles away from the island, the tide was going south against the swell and wind. The pilot says that either one of these against the tide will create 10 foot rips and I would say that was pretty accurate. It was slow going with lots of braces into waves and an element of the tide against us. After 8 miles our average speed was depressingly low at 2.4 knots with 7 miles to go. I was hoping that once we got away from Chagulak that the flood tide would take us North and we’d speed up. It did and we did – with bells on! Within 15 minutes the tide was flying North at almost 5 knots. That’s the strongest tide we’ve seen in the Aleutians so far. We started paddling east and then SE but the gps track still showed that w e’d be
carried north past the island faster than we could paddle towards it. I expected that when we got close to land there would be an eddy or the current would decrease, and the ebb was also due to kick in, but it was an anxious few hours before the gps track did indeed curve round to the east and we made landfall. Meanwhile the stonking tide helped us and our average speed shot up to 3.1 knots over the day.

Once alongside land on the sheltered side of the island it was a different world. We paddled past lava flows, caves, stacks and nesting birds. We’d hoped to camp where a cabin was marked on the chart but the small beach backed by steep cliffs was unsuitable so we carried on into we found a tiny gravel beach. While the swell looked like nothing, the beach was a 50 degree angle and we both had a comically hard time landing and dragging or heavy boats up. Sarah half fell out of her boat and enjoyed her dip at the end of the day.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings! Looks like it will be a paddling day.

Day 3 on Amukta was similar to day 2 except it was Sarah’s birthday. I wrote her a big happy birthday card in the sand using driftwood, and delivered pancakes and fresh bread to the tent! We went for a walk in the drizzle in the afternoon. Our drinking water situation was rescued by collecting panfulls of water from the tent. We hope to leave tomorrow but the latest forecast isn’t as favourable as the previous one and the surf is looking and sounding pretty big still, so we will see.

A front is on its way over us bringing it’s friends the wind, the rain and the fog. Mr Surf had also shown up making our steep cobbly beach look rather scary for launching when the time comes. I can hear the waves crashing down from the tent where I have spent most of the afternoon feeling quite sleepy. The rain is mostly the fine kind of drizzle which you can’t really see but which manages to make everything wet. Black sand is sticking to everything and adds a crunch to our meals no matter how careful we try to be. Not chewing too much seems to be the key.

It’s not crazy hold-ontothe-tent windy – it might be less than forecast – but is too windy for our next 15 mile crossing to Yunaska island so we’re spending a second day on Amukta.

Today’s main worry was finding water to drink. The 10 litre supply we brought from Seguam is dwindling and yesterday we failed to find a good source. I imagine there was once a bubbling brook in the valley here but a lava flow spilled down from the volcano and left a hotch potch of sharp black rocks 30 metres deep and several football pitches wide. Water runs under this porous mound and didn’t appear as a steam anywhere that we could find. Yesterday I walked to a small valley behind our camp and found a 20 metre square pond amongst the broken lava. The water was crystal clear but there was what looked like flaky white paint on some of the rocks around it and a brown muddy ooze rimming the pond. I immediately thought of bird poo and well, poo although Sarah thinks it’s more likely to be some sort of mineral deposit. It is a volcanic Island after all. Either way, I didn’t fancy drinking it.

Next, I clambered over the giant moving jigsaw of rocks to another small beach tucked into the SE corner. No stream, although I did find the foundations of an old trapers cabin which I think dates from the 20s. Dozens of fenders, buoys and floats lie scattered above the cobbles, thrown there with logs during winter storms. On my way back I found a smaller clear pond in the lava about 5 metres across. It looked more appealing than the poo pond but a 20 minute dance back to the tent on sharp ball bearings with a water bag in hand didn’t appeal unless that was our only option.

Meanwhile Sarah had filled up from the poo pond, boiled it and tried a cup of tea. It tasted a bit minerally ( in other words grim) but it wasn’t so bad when we cooked pasta in it. This morning we set up pans to catch rain water from the tent and tried to rig up my hileberg windsack which is a group shelter that can be used as a tarp. Sarah then ventured up a small hill and found a muddy pond. She spent a good couple of hours filtering the water, first using her buff, then a real sponge that she found. Once boiled, it tastes a bit peaty but is nicer than the salty poo pond water. Although perhaps if we renamed it, it wouldn’t seen so bad? It looks like tomorrow will be another rest day with 30 knot gusts predicted but we hope to launch on Tuesday and make it to Yunaska island.

Tomorrow is Sarah’s birthday so we will start the day with chocolate and banana pancakes! yum

It’s near the end of our first day on Amukta island, an island I’m told no one really comes to much as it’s pretty desolate with only a couple of possible landing places. After getting to bed after 2am we didn’t get up until just after midday, I guess 16 hours of paddling takes its toll! So everything is happening pretty late today, I’m just cooking pasta on the fire at 8 30pm.

We only decided to do the big crossing yesterday morning at 5am when we woke up and checked the weather forecast. Saturday had been looking like the better day but Friday’s winds has swung round to be N and NW and light (helpful as opposed to the earlier prediction for NE). Saturdays light following wind had picked up to 17 knots in the afternoon with the threat of stronger winds later that could come in early. We had got everything ready the night before incase that happened. The only issue was that we had a breakfast date at 5.30am. The Tiglax, a fish and wildlife ship had offered to call in on us on her way to Adak from Homer. I’d phoned her captain Billy Pepper before the trip as he’s been skippering these waters for years. He’d given us lots of useful information on currents, weather patterns etc. Now he offered us breakfast and a shower. Andy brought a skiff to the beach to pick us up and took us to the mother ship. It felt very big and more like a house than a boa t! I
kept forgetting I was on the sea until the floor suddenly moved. We declined the shower as we wanted to get kayaking but we enjoyed a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausages, maple syrup and yoghurt, and a quick chat with Billy and some of the crew and scientists on board. They also pressed the extra pancakes and sausages into our hands, and a couple of Brownies. Those were very welcome additions to our on the water food. The Brownies were amazing!

We set off paddling at 8am, a later start than ideal for a 45+ mile day but with the wind helping we hoped we’d arrive before dark at 11ish. I figured I’d rather arrive in the dark on a calm day than cross on Saturday when it could be windier. The tide gave us a push along the South side of Seguam and we covered the 7 miles in less than 2 hours. The place we’d earmarked for a campsite on the SE corner didn’t look that great so we were glad we’d stayed in lovely Lava Cove. Once in the pass, open to swell from all directions and subject to stronger currents, the sea felt twitchy, like a sleeping giant that could wake at any moment. For no obvious reason, tidal rips would form randomly and the current changed direction often and without any pattern that I could see. The wind was probably a maximum of 10 knots all day so I was glad we weren’t stirring the giant with stronger gusts.

We expected the flooding tide to take us North to start with but first it was against us and then the opposite happened and we were taken South. This reversed several times including 6 hours later at exactly the time I was expecting it to start flooding North again, except it started going south. We’d originally intended to aim at Amukta and let the tide take us North and South but when we realised that the tide wasn’t predictable and anything could happen, we started adjusting our bearing as the current changed to stay roughly on target. We had 2 choices for camping on Amukta, a cove on the North or a beach on the South. At one point it looked like the current would take us to the northern spot but for the last few hours we were pulled South so the decision was made for us (given the imminent arrival of darkness). We could see the island from about 25 miles away, first a smudge on the horizon then the snowy flanks of it’s central volcano slowly taking shape.

We made good speed for the first 11 hours. The sails helped at times as did an element of the current. Just as we felt confident we’d land in the light, with just 10 miles to go, our speed dropped to 2 knots. The current was against us for the next 3 and a half hours and we inched forward, watching the clock tick down. What we’d expected to take 3 hours, was now going to take 5. Even with a final helpful push, we arrived at the headland just as all it’s features disappeared into blackness. Luckily there was very little swell and we could still make out the outlines of rocks in the water.

A loud grunt made us aware there were some sea lions on the rocks. Splashing and honking revealed about 15 more in the water directly in front of us. I could just make out silhouettes of them craning their necks up to get a good look at us. Since they were in a channel that we had to pass through, Sarah started taking to them loudly telling them to go away, “nothing to see here”. They did make way for us and we headed in towards the beach. Billy had shown us a sketch of the bay with a sand/ boulder beach in both corners, separated by a lava flow. We could see the lava flow and headed for a lower section to the right. Sarah landed first on a steep cobble beach with a small amount of surge. We managed to drag the boats up out of the wash zone and I was suddenly really cold, achy and tired. It was midnight, not surprising perhaps after being up since 5am and after16 hours of nearly continuous paddling, with just a short break every hour.

It was 2am by the time we snuggled up in our sleeping bags on a black sand beach above the cobbles. This morning ( well, afternoon) it was fun to get out the tent and see our surroundings for the first time. The volcano is an impressive backdrop, even shrouded in cloud. The black beach is littered with driftwood and the craggy lava flow dominates the landscape….it looks like we’ll have another day off paddling tomorrow as it’s due to be pretty windy.