Naginak Cove, Unalaska Island, Aleutians June 28, 2012 21:41 53N37 166W51
Having trouble getting signal past these mountains so this was written yesterday:
After a few days of rain and overcast skies in Atka, a weather window of west southwest wind opened up to move us eastward. With 25 knots, we were glad it was at our backs. At one point Frank ever bold when I’m below, had all sails up and we were powering downwind at 14 knots…I made him reduce sail before sunset. Still we made rapid progress past the recently active Cleveland Volcano, figuring it was not the best time or place to lollygag. It was foggy when we passed 7 miles to the north, so we didn’t “get” to see any spewing hot lava, no VW sized chunks fell nearby.
We were thinking we might stop at Nikolski another even smaller high latitude hamlet two days east of Atka, but on the charts it looked like an uninviting west wind anchorage, so we continued on to Unalaska, the island with the biggest city in the Aleutians, Dutch Harbor. We’re on the opposite side of the island from Dutch Harbor now, completely tucked into the end of a long finger of a big bay, surrounded by very steep mountains. We might as well be on one of the uninhabited islands for all the human activity we have not seen. When we sailed in, cloud cover hid everything but the lower 100 feet of coastline; but the next morning we were welcomed by another of those glassy flat calms after the blow. A double edged serrated blade surrounded us with sharp peaks and blue sky above and sharp peaks and blue sea in the reflection below – nearly 360 degrees around. Three days later, we’ve hiked up one side to find the source of a big waterfall, meandered up the river valley to see its source at the end, and today we split up, the boys heading for the icy north face of the valley to go boogie boarding “Aleutian style” and me to go up the wildflower studded southern face to photograph every little blossom I could find. I think my photographer’s pace was driving them nuts, no one wanted to join me.
The golden and white Aleutians are mostly emerald and white now, with the white receding rapidly from the shore and lower hills. But where a receding tide takes most sea life with it, the receding snow leaves a colorful swathe of plant life in its place. Everything that can bloom is blooming. Even the massive, lumpy, hilltop moss-mounds have tiny, hearty-looking, bell shaped flowers in delicate white pink and yellow colors. They look remarkably similar to the blueberry blossoms, which in turn look a lot like mini pink blueberries, without the berry swell. These other bells may not be moss at all, but blueberry relatives hiding their leaves in the thick layers of moss. Evenly spaced across the lower slopes are an abundance of purple, pink, and magenta orchid-like flowers. They are distributed 3-5 feet apart, as if some gardener decided that a polka dot slope was what the plain green surface needed. Some areas have thick clumps of a larger light yellow flower, big and showy next to the smaller orchids, although the orchids give this flower a run for its money on the vibrancy scale. Chocolate lilies are sprinkled throughout, competing for attention by the shear audaciousness of their color, “Who said we couldn’t wear dark brown in spring.”
Without a flower guide in hand I’m a complete cretin when it comes to flower identification. Frank agreed with me that the little violet color and shaped flowers that smell like violets were probably violets (he might also agree that I’m a flower cretin). Lupine is easy, because I got in trouble in horse camp as a kid for letting my horse eat it. Chocolate lilies and violets are easy, with names that match their colors (or colors that match their names). For the rest I might as well be Antoine Bouganville, confronting these plant forms for the first time, except I’m sure I’ve seen some before and just forgotten their labels. Now there is the real reason I switched paths from Ornamental Horticulture to Architecture in college. I may be good with forms and languages, but memorizing Latin names was/is anathema to me. Maybe if the names were more obvious I could have done better – I mean truly, what about the flower Lupine is at all wolflike???
The boys had a blast, and came back beat. I enjoyed setting my own pace wandering from flower to flower, rock to rock, peak to peak soaking in the landscape from every perspective. I too came back beat. It turns out that the ridge I worked my way up was between two river valleys. The highpoint was well below all the larger peaks on the other sides of the two valleys, but it still felt like the top of a world. I was perched there next to some eagle fluff and what looked to be a small pile of bleached vole bones; from that regal spot, I could see the little dots of my men zipping around in a long white patch of snow on a ridge across the valley north of me. If I had an eagle’s sight, I could have seen who was crashing into whom, instead, the dots just crossed and merged and stopped and moved slowly back up their slope, and I was content to be 2 miles away, not watching the blow by blow, but knowing that as long as the three dots moved all was good with the world. Not to anthropomorphize, but I’m sure I was having a psychic moment of connection with the eagle mom on the mound below mine, watching her progeny soar across the bay with his dad, she nibbling on a vole, me with my nuts, raisins and M&Ms, the world at our talons. A magical moment. Amazingly, there were no injuries all day, unless you count sunburned noses – no mom to badger them about sunscreen. And on my side, I did not fall into one of the many holes the snowmelt rivulets are carving into this landscape, despite Frank’s dire warnings when I took off on my own.
We’re taking full advantage of this bear-free, tree-free country to romp and play. We may soon be boat bound, unless we can find some bear mace between here and Homer. And we won’t likely be splitting up when we reach Unimak Island, separated only by a narrow channel from the grizzly infested Alaska peninsula. From that point on, we’ll be walking everywhere together – noisily. For now our supplies are still plentiful (we got a Snicker fix in Atka), and the only thing steering us toward Dutch Harbor sooner rather than later is a need for engine oil and brownie mix. After Dutch Harbor there is very little left of the Aleutians; maybe just a few more days here. This may well have been the fastest month on our voyage, maybe even the fastest month in my life. Hey Gart and Deb, when does Homer High start their school year?
xoxomo