Alaska, 2006
Peter Dew
The little gravel beach baked in sunshine was a perfect place to be dropped off for the start of 14 days in PWS. Kit, food bags and boats were quickly unloaded, tent pitches claimed and a cooking tarp set up all without taking breath.
This was what we had travel 2000 miles for. Knight Island, until now had just been a place on a map, one that had been studied for over a year to come up with the perfect route that would give us the best chance of seeing what Alaska had to offer and looking around, it didn't disappoint.
The group quickly got underway with the required tasks. As it was late afternoon the evening meal was the first job in hand, then the simple task of hanging food would be next.
Everyone we talked to prior to arriving on Knight Island had told us "you must hang your food to avoid anything being taken by bears". Armed with slings, pullies, throw bags and with 14 days of food we blundered into the forest to find the perfect tree. Three hours later we emerged dripping in sweat and swearing with frustration of how it was impossible to find even one perfect "Ray Mears" type tree in a rain forest the size of a small country. All the books make it look so easy, "find a tree with a strong branch more than 10 feet of the ground, throw your rope over it at least 4 feet from the trunk and pull you food bag up and tie it off. The theory was simple the execution proved more difficult.
Ten enthusiastic food hangers spent 3 hours throwing bags in every direction with every conceivable set-up in order to pull a dozen food bags out of the reach of Mr Bear, trees began to look like they were being decorated for Christmas, I could almost hear Ray laughing, or Harry Enfield's irritating know-all character, 'Only me!' saying 'You don't want to do it like that" and for once he would have been right.
Next morning we woke to find the sun replaced with clouds that would be followed with light Alaskan rain. Once again we blundered into the forest with bear bells jingling, this time to retrieve the food bags, half expecting to find Mr Bear having a little family picnic happily eating our porridge or had already made off the bags during the night. I'm now convinced we were the only people in the Sound or the whole of Alaska to be running around with bear bells hanging from belts, bags or boots in order to let bears know humans were in the area. The theory being, the bears hear the bells and think humans, and run away in the opposite direction. However Davy Sterritt's theory was somewhat different, the bears hear the bells and think, here comes a "happy meal", not a pleasant thought.
The plan for day one was simple, a nice easy paddle from our drop off point on the north east of Herring bay to explore the bay and camp at Herring point on the west side of Knight Island. That light Alaska rain could do nothing to spoil the day as the nine boats slipped into the water for the first time. We had already seen our first bald eagle during breakfast and within the first hour we would see another and more would follow. Herring bay was covered in low grey cloud that couldn't hide its natural beauty, a place of little bays and a few islands, the whole lot covered in trees.
We stopped for lunch at fish pass. Stoves out and a lunch of soup with cheese and tortia's was on the menu. In our rush to retrieve the bags and pack them away into boats no one could remember what bag the cheese and tortias were in. When Mary Bulter asked after finishing her soup, " was that it" her bottom lip heading south we all laughed only for her to repeat, "no seriously, is that it", this time with a mixture of a little lost soul and panic, I thought we better come up with something fast or the first revolt would be on the first morning of the trip. The day was saved when it was decided to use the evening's desert rice to supplement the lunch.
As we passed Herring point it was decided to paddle on around the head in case the weather got worse this would mean we would be past the most exposed part of the days paddle. The next bay looked fine until we got out for a closer inspection. What looked like a great camping place of long grass turned out to be grass growing through felled trees, the next two sites would to be the same. It was now past 6pm and it was decided to stop just below "Roundtop" and cook tea, Mary, Pete Edgar and Lorna Aiken in the double and myself to explore further down the coast to find a campsite. Just over a mile down the coast we found a pretty little bay, I got out to explore, ignoring the teeth marks on the float of a washed up fishing net I declared it perfect, in fact so perfect I said " if I was a bear I would live here" and we returned to the rest of the group and tea.
On returning to the bay we found we were not alone, standing on the very same spot I had been an hour earlier was Mr Bear, thankfully only sniffing my scent and not me How those words of "if I was a bear" came back to haunt me. Quickly we slipped back out of the bay to find new lodgings and as we did so Mark came across a sea otter lying on his back snoozing. Eagles, a bear and now a sea otter, a great way to finish our first day in the Sound.
The rain had continued through the night and morning brought no change. Again we retrieved our food bags from the forest after another evening's epic trying to hang them out of the reach of bears.
An early start and we continued to explore the little bays on the west coast of the island. Not long after we had entered Lower Herring bay we stopped for lunch. The rain had finally stopped and we took a long lunch to dry out. We continued into the bay a short distance when Mark "Hawkeye" Clague spotted movement high up on the hill. It was at least 3 more bears. They had obviously seen us long before we had seen them and they were making a fast retreat high up unto the mountain. Even at a distance it was exciting to see these animals in their natural environment.
We explored the rest of Lower Herring bay, that by now the cloud had returned but thankfully it remained dry.
We had planned to camp in Johnston Bay but stopped for the night on Aguiak Island, the thinking being "don't pass a campsite, it could be the last for miles".
The following morning we were happily tucking into breakfast when once again Hawkeye spotted fins out in the channel "Orcas" he shouts, plates, spoons and cups were dropped in favour of cameras to record the moment. Truly amazing, to see a pod of Orcas swim past you, even at distance, was a fantastic sight.
We explored Johnston Bay first, then on to Drier Bay. Much bigger than Johnston it also boosted a disused cannery which we thought might be interesting. Sadly, the only thing left of the cannery were a few rusted boiler tanks and what was once a jetty had long since rotted. We stopped for a look around and then headed on through a narrow entrance that led into an amazing little bay complete with it's own family of otters and a sea lion.
We found a suitable campsite and with tents and cooking tarp set up and with the usual bag hanging completed. Mark and I tried out hand at fishing, unfortunately without any success. The rain came and went and came, by this time we had classified the weather into two types, hood up rain, or hood down rain. We never seemed to get anything else.
Drier bay certainly didn't live up to its name. As we paddled out the following morning it rained and just for good measure rained some more, definitely hood up rain. We continued to paddle along the coast into Copper Bay. Both Mark and I left the rest of the group behind and paddled further into the bay, we were rewarded with spectacular views all round including a couple of waterfalls. Knight Island just kept getting better and better. If I was a bear I would have sold that little bay up the coast and moved into Copper Bay for it had everything a bear could want, and more.
Leaving Knight Island we continued to Squires Island and onto Squires Point to set up camp. In spite of the constant rain, Peter Edgar, with a little help from Lorna and Ritchie Creaney managed to get a get campfire going while the rest of us hung the food. Peter by now was the team arsonist and at times with little more than determination would light a fire in even the foulest of conditions. In between the periods of "hood down" rain and with the help of the fire we managed to dry the odd piece of gear. I opted for an early night. As I went to retrieve some dry clothes from my boat I found for the second time my rear hatch half full of water. I was amazed to find nothing wet the first time, could I be so lucky again? Both my tapered Kodiak bags were soaked, as I rolled the seal down water dripped down the bag. As I opened the bags I feared the worst but once again was amazed to find nothing wet, a real testament to Cascade Designs and their bags.
The following morning the weather deteriorated, it certainly turned into "hood up rain" and coupled with a north wind would make our crossing to Chenega Island interesting. Before the crossing we took time to visit the whaling station on the SW side of the Island. Unfortunately it was empty. I had expected to see something more substantial than the large canvas tent and a small two-man tent that would be home to the staff over the summer months but his was Alaska and everything was little more than basic.
We paddled up the west coast of Squires Island, had our usual lunch of cheese, tortias and soup, this time fortified with Tabasco sauce to warm us up in such miserable weather. The northerly wind continued causing a choppy sea so we decided to keep a tight diamond formation for the 3 mile crossing. All was going well until a mid channel collision saw Angie slid down the face of a wave and capsize. She quickly set up for a roll but with such a heavy boat and herself knocked out of position in the seat she failed to make it and after the second attempt she pulled out. Davy and I were first to her. I placed the boat on its side and shouted to her to swim in. Once in, Davy quickly righted the boat and we both started to pump her out. The water was freezing and we were a little concerned that because of her size she would get cold very quickly. She was convinced a whale had hit her and asked had anyone seen it. Of course we all agreed and said we had, only divulging the truth after getting her sorted out. The whole thing was over in minutes and we paddled on to Chenega Island without stopping or further incident.
Once on dry land, we set up a tarp and Graeme made a warm drink and got her changed. I don't think I saw her smile disappear the whole time, tuff as nails.
Back on the water to continued past the old Chenega village, abandoned since the earthquake in 1964 when a large Tsunami killed many of the inhabitants including a large number of children. As landing is forbidden we paddled on past the couple of small buildings than stand as a reminder of earthquake 42 years ago.
Roy Doherty had mentioned a few times about not seeing a dry bag he had packed food into on the first day and as we had run out of the desert rice we were using at lunch we had began to think we had left it hanging from a tree. The thought of losing found was to say the least, worrying. Well made plans can fall apart for many reasons as we found out just getting to Anchorage.
Our flights from Belfast to London then on to Minneapolis and Anchorage had been nothing short of an expedition in its self. First we had the jobs worth search officer in Belfast. Angie and Mary had both carried their VHF radios through security but the search officer Pete Edgar, Graeme and I got refused to allow our radios any further. After it was explained we needed them for the trip he relented in allowing through but only if we checked them into bagage. Graeme, worried about what might happen to them if they were placed in the hold continued to argue the point. Finally Graeme states, " I do have a licence" to which the officer replies " I have a licence for a shotgun but they won't let me take that on a plane. At this point I gathered all 5 radios and returned to check-in. I returned to the search area to find all our bags being re-searched and a member of the ground crew telling Graeme if he didn't hurry up we would miss the flight, "tell that to the guy with his hand in my underwear" said the look on Graeme's face. We had managed to cause a short delay but eventually got onboard.
During the second 3mile crossing from Chenga to our campsite at Duel Point the loss of the bag with its contents played heavy on my mind. As the weather had been so poor we had put off doing a food audit but it would have to be done, sooner rather than later.
By now the wind had dropped, the sea was once again flat but the now familiar "soft Alaskan rain" was still with us for the crossing. As we got closer to Dual Point we started to make out the shapes of tents, then tarps, finally people and sea kayaks on the beach. Even though the idea of having the sound all to ourselves was nice, seeing other people and especially paddlers was great. We received a warm welcome on our arrival and were soon exchanging stories and experiences. They were a group from the Sierra club, a non-profitable charity that promoted low impact travel into mountains and wilderness areas of the world.
During the evening I had mentioned the possible loss of food and once the rain eased we had to do the audit. As this was the Sierra clubs last evening in the sound Alice gave us the food they had left over. A further two whip rounds bought more food and great relief on my part. We returned the hospitality in to true Irish fashion...Whiskey. Many thanks to Alice and her group.
I had actually met two of the Sierra group before at the airport in Anchorage. They had been there collecting some delayed luggage, we had been there reporting delayed luggage, the third of our on route escapades.
At Gatwick we had a short wait until our connection, that wait got longer and longer as the plane was repeatedly delayed and with it the chance of making our last connection to Anchorage .
It was no surprise when we arrived in Minneapolis to find we would have to spend the night there all be it in a hotel 20 minutes drive from the airport at the expense of the airline, our second escapade. What was a surprise however' was the third escapade, the non-arrival of 12 out of 20 bags that still sat in London.
Our forth escapade came the following day. Our flight from Minneapolis was re-routed to Edmonton in Canada for an emergency landing due to a female passenger having a suspected heart attack. By this stage I began to feel getting to Anchorage wasn't meant to be never mind getting to Prince William Sound and setting a paddle in the water. Two hours later we were on our way.
The following morning I woke to the now familiar sound of rain. I quickly dressed to say farewell to the Sierra group who were being picked up by their charter company.
One by one the group appeared from the tents. It was evident that for a few of the group the constant rain was taking its toll, even the more experienced who just took rain as part and parcel of expeditions were slow to rise .
By the time breakfast was over the now familiar rain clouds were being broken up with blue sky, the rain had stopped. It was time for that food audit. Every bag was collected and emptied, food was gathered and place in piles. At first our suspicions were right, it looked like we had lost food, but with the arrival of bags from here and there we began to wonder. Then came the saving grace, Angie, over hearing us talk about the "black dry bag", says " oh that bag, I have that bag up the front of my boat" a universal sight was heard. With all food accounted for and what we had been given, it now looked like it would to be a challenge just to eat it all before we got to day 14. Having said that we had a human vacuum cleaner in the group. Not only was Mark the first to see wildlife, he was also the first to clear his plate and anyone else's plate if they were too slow or took time to breath while eating.
The sun was now out and it was decided to have a rest day and let everyone dry gear and re-charge batteries. It's amazing what a little sun can do to raise spirits, we even took the opportunity to wash. By mid afternoon we decided it was a pity not to be on the water and an evening paddle was planned into Ocra Bay. We took our evening meal along and "ate out" on top of a tiny island at the end of the bay I took the opportunity to paddle ahead of the group for a while after tea. Ocra Bay was a truly beautiful place, to paddle it own my own even for a short time was inspiring. Half way into the bay I stopped to watch a bald eagle circle a snow covered peak, could it get better than this? Later, as we paddled on out of Ocra I could see the lead group had stopped to look at something. As I approached I couldn't believe it, an iceberg, little more than the size of my tent but never the less an iceberg. As we paddle on we continued to see several more, by the time we got back to the beach there were countless icebergs floating past our campsite from Icey bay an amazing sight.
We woke the next morning to find one of these bergs had landed on our beach about the size of a transit van it would spend the next 48hrs being lifted and set back down again as the tide came and went.
We had another splendid paddle into Whale bay. We stopped for lunch in Minke Cove, later we split into two groups after trying to find an old mine that was marked on the map. As the second group followed us on into Whale bay Graeme stopped to explore a smaller bay we had past earlier. He came across a bear with two cubs searching the shore for food. The moment cut short as Angie in concern for her boyfriend shouted to Graeme not to go any closer, this alerted the mother and both her and cubs disappeared into the forest. The story of mother and cubs was the first thing they said when they returned to camp, "you missed it", a bear with two cubs." "Bummer" I said, "we were busy paddling with an Ocra" complete with a smug grin. Earlier, just as the lead group had been landing at the campsite, Hawkeye Clague had spotted a fin coming out of the water passing the entrance to Whale Bay. Both mark and I took of at speed to catch it shouting to the others as we past, only Mary followed. As I looked back I noticed Mark had stopped to replace the batteries in his camera so I dropped the head and paddled as hard as I could to cut it off and get a better look. I timed each dive to around 34 seconds, I decided to stop paddling and get my camera ready when it appeared early, broke the surface and disappeared again. As I pocketed my camera and started to paddle it immediately reappeared but this time came clean out of the water broaching onto it's side and back below the waves not before giving a perfect flick of his tail as it dived. Although still a few hundred metres away decided I might not want to get too close after all. As it headed along the passage I returned to Mark, Mary and later to the rest of the group disappointed not to have got a photograph but completely blown away by the sight a beautiful animal demonstrating both amazing power and grace. "a bear and cubs Graeme"," well let me tell you this"...
The following morning we packed up and turned west to cross Icey Bay into Nassau Ford. By now the icebergs flowed continually in our path. As we approached Gaamaak Cove we met a wall of ice and had to choose our route carefully. The sound of ice scrapping along the glass hulls was not something for the faint hearted. After a quick lunch on the water we turned into Nassau to a view of blue ice. Still around 4 miles off it was stunning. The Chenega glazier was a wall of pure ice the reflected the most amazing shade of blue I've ever seen. We paddled towards it transfixed by its beauty. We could hear the rumbles of what sounded like distant thunder as more ice calved from the wall became icebergs that would eventually float along the bay just like the others we had seen on route. Mark, Graeme and I sat looking at this amazing piece of nature long after the others had paddled out of the bay and eventually we turned to follow the icebergs that had taken nature thousands of years to make on a journey that would see nature destroy them only in a few days. We returned to the mouth of Gaamaak cove to find a fantastic campsite, complete with it's own family of voles.
The following day had us paddling through more ice, this time into Icey Bay it's self. Once again joined by the soft Alaskan rain. Tiger glacier, although not as spectacular as Chenega, was well worth paddling in to see. Like Chenega, Tiger continually rumbled as it sent large chunks of ice into the water one of which came to rest 6 feet from 3 of our boats that had been left close to the waters edge.
Then came another highlight, as we paddled back along the bay the lead group stopped by the shore. Not thinking anything of I started to pass them but became aware I was being hailed very quietly to stop. I followed the pointing fingers to the shore. Standing not more than 20feet from the water was a black bear, it was in no way intimidated by us or showed any aggression towards us. It continued to lick the grass and rocks, it had a long stretch and even yawned a few times, occasionally it would look at us and sniff the air.. Eventually it turned it's back to us and proved that often-asked question, "do bears shit in the words"? It turned to look at us one last time, stuck out its tongue and walked off into the forest. Like an actor giving a performance, with the show over, exit stage left leaving his audience wanting more.
We continued back to Gaamaak Cove on a real high, the soft Alaskan hood down rain that came and went all day was replaced with true hood up rain.
On day ten we turned north. We were now looking at the final leg of the trip. We started out in bright sunshine passing along the passage between the mainland and Chenega Island. We turned into Jackpot bay as far as the first narrow entrance then out and into Ewan bay. Of all the bays we entered I think this was the most spectacular, surrounded on both side by white caps mountains the bay was certainly a picture postcard in every direction. The campsite we had been told by MAA was on a small island near the bottom of the bay. We search along its west side on route to the subacuk. After a quick play we returned to search the east side but without success. We eventually found a pitch on a little spit we had passed earlier. If it hadn't of been for the midge and mosquitoes the site would have been perfect. It was really our first encounter with mosquitoes. With only light hood down rain they continued to plague us for the rest of the evening.
Next morning we continued north passing into Paddy bay, smaller than the previous bays and not nearly as pretty. This would be our final leg. We had hoped to make use of a small cabin at Point Nowell. The owners very kindly made it available to travellers and all they expected in return was to leave it as found and sign the guest book.
The cabin was located in a small bay behind the point and as we paddled in we could see movement, someone had beaten us to it. In fact it was the owners, Ken and Carley. The fishing season was just about to start and they had taken up their yearly three months residence leaving us to paddle back out and round to the point. Later that evening we got talking to Carley when she out walking her dogs. Our offer to help them fish was initially welcomed but next day it was decided due to strinaint fishing laws rather than help from our kayaks we could go aboard their boat two at a time but just to watch.
It was June 26th, my birthday, and I was going salmon fishing in Alaska, how cool was that. As promised they arrived and invited the first pair out. It was Graeme and Lorna who returned with three large salmon and two very happy smiling faces. Mark and I were next and so on as each of the group took the opportunity to fish or at least watch fishing for salmon Alaskan style.
That evening we had a great meal of red and pink salmon a birthday meal I'm not likely to forget for a long time. I'll also not forget what came next. Without me knowing, just a few metres away in the forest the three girls had baked me not one but two birthday cakes. We had several cooking and baking successes from the sausage bolognaise, Mary's veggie curry and her amazing sponge cake at Gaamaak bay, the pancakes and the daily supply of chocolate from Angie and Graeme that was always produced in pristine condition.
Our last morning was just like the day we arrived, bright sunshine and a clear blue sea. The arrival of the charter boat singled the end of the trip. We packed our boats and gear away and climbed aboard leaving behind Nowell point and PWS.
That two-hour journey from Nowell Point to Whittier gave me time to reflect on the past 14 days. Everyone will have their own thoughts on the past two weeks, for some it would be the glaciers, the wild life or the never ending panoramic views. For others it would have been the physical and mental challenge that 14 days in the wilderness puts on you. Within a group of this size, there will be some who will simply tick it off as having been there, done that, it will be their catalyst to search out bigger and longer trips. For others it will be a one off, a trip of a lifetime, never to be attempted again. That's how I thought of my first expedition to Norway or may be it's how I sold it to my wife. Before the end of that first trip we were planning a second and this trip would be no different as even before we finished there was already talk of "where are we going next", a sure sign a good trip.
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