Kovurof Bay, Atka Island, Aleutians June 13, 2012 22:10 52N04 174W55

We’re still on the Bearing Sea side of the Andreanof islands. According to the pilot charts (weather charts with historic data), winds out of the NW should predominate here now, but instead we’ve been getting mostly South-East to North-East winds, with the lows still coming up from Japan in the south bringing with them some version of a southerly swell. So for now we’re happier with the options for anchorages on this side. We made our way east against light winds 50 more miles yesterday and snuggled into what we hope will be a protected spot. The mountains are huge everywhere, but some coves with low saddles between mountains and connecting the two oceans just look like they’ll send the wind howling through. It is picking up as predicted, but here they’re evenly high all around, with no huge mountains, and no deep saddles through to the Pacific side. There’s also a nice sandy bottom so the anchors are dug in deep.

Frank did all the sailing work yesterday, I managed to pull a back muscle (or a group of back muscles) the day before, and spent most of yesterday (and today) trying to find a horizontal or vertical position that did not make me cringe, not easy when even breathing seems to make me cringe. Teach me to try and toss a line up 20’ (low tide at the fuel dock) first thing in the morning, teach Frank to let me try (he’s the one who had to do 12 hours of solo-sailing). Getting old is hard business, especially in this chilly place, where muscles just don’t warm up very fast. But what yesterday lacked in wind (and crew), it made up for in sun, so he stayed warm. And Logan took my place as photographer at sunset (11:00 p.m.), there is a sun, it does set north of west, and he caught it dipping into the Bearing Sea through a little slot entrance of our well surrounded cove. After another glassy calm night, the wind is up to 30 knots now. It’s still sunny so the increasing proliferation of buds we’ve been spotting on our hikes should be exploding into blossoms by the time this system passes and we get our dinghy in the water to go ashore – maybe in three days?

With the sun out, these tundra hills look like a lionesses crouched on the savanna, smooth golden hide, pulled taught over ridges, backbones, and haunches. A golden paw with deep dark crevices rests on the point across the bay, dipping a set of dark claws into the water. If only she knew herds of caribou roamed her back, she’d leap up and the hunt would be on. We have not yet caught the legendary halibut or salmon, and we were given some bou meat in Adak, so we know it’s good, lean and tasty. Even Frank who has never held a gun, is wondering if we should have bought a shotgun and a hunting license instead of 3 fishing licenses. There are 4-5 herds of 15-20 animals taunting us from the surrounding hills (or maybe it’s one herd of 100 animals). Frank pointed out that all a caribou knows is eating grass and migrating thousands of miles. What do they do on an island when half their skill set is obsolete? Eat twice the grass. These island caribou are healthy specimens.

We spotted a coyote-sized fox trotting along the shore checking the tide pools for tidbits. He and the caribou are all looking very disheveled with their mottled spring coats, a little chilly still to unzip them all the way, so big light patches hang across their backs. No one on board is shedding any layers yet, even with the sun out.

xoxomo