Follow CackleTV

Search

PostHeaderIcon moving mountains

The sky had cleared for the first time all day. There was still a layer of white cloud like a bracelet on the lower slopes and the sky was full of clouds various shades of white and grey but it looked promising. We could see more than a few kilometers ahead the first time all day. Smiling at the view of low headlands and steep rugged cliffs, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a huge wall of white moving towards us from the ocean. Shaped like a giant nose on the surface, it swept across the sky before I could get my camera out. A sudden, chill wind ruffled the water and i started shivering. Everything was white again in an instant. We were back to keeping the coast on our right, and following a compass when crossing fjords.

We started with a 4 km hop across Nachvak fjord. this 60 km indent into the mountains is notorious for fierce katabatic winds. We joked that at least we wouldn’t have to worry about being blown offshore in a day with no sun. I checked my watch as we left 8:10 AM. Heading into the haze, My gaze shifted between my small deck mounted compass and the white gloom ahead. Different shades of gray in the clouds played tricks on me. Was that the side of a mountain way off to the left? My mind played tricks on me. Did I make the right adjustment for magnetic variation? Would the flood current sweep us off course into the fjord? Was the compass wrong? Yes, maybe and no. I checked the time. 8:40 AM. Still no clues that we were anywhere near land. I kept steadily paddling on, knowing I would feel uneasy, until we saw land. 8:47 AM. and I heard it. The distinctive swoosh of waves against land. It sounded like it was a head still see the details and slightly off to the right. I resisted the temptation to turn in Paddle towards the noise. Five minutes later that really was a mountain side looming out of the mist. It was dead ahead, and I felt my body relax. First crossing done.

It was a shame not to see these stunning mountains in their full splendor, but paddling below these giants shrouded in mist was also magical. Cloud hung in cracks and accentuated the sharp geometry. Spires of black rock reached up into the heavens before disappearing into the murk. Up close we could still see the onionskin weathering and sharp lines of black intrusions striping up the mountain sides.

We landed for lunch before rounding Gulch cape. We’ve learned that we can land and usually camp, in most wide valleys. But this stretch of coastline was different. Instead of a sand or gravel beaches, the valleys are fringed with low rock walls. We settled for a small “beach” of large smooth boulders beneath a deep gully of sharp rocks. Lunch was quick. Despite our lunch spot being sheltered from the wind, I was feeling very cold. I’m usually I kept on my storm kayak, the extra layer I put xxx on at lunch to trap my body heat. So did Larry and JF. The damp cold seems to cut to my core more than dry cold. The light wind and gentle swell was accentuated around Gulch Cape. Just enough to be a little exciting. Cruising along beside the cliffs, the sleek black back of a minke whale emerged just in front of Frank and I. The graceful arc of the fin was gone as quickly as it appeared.

We rejected a valley wed identified as a possible campsite. A steep slope of uneven boulders would have worked as a get out but didn’t appeal. We pushed on to Ramma, the former site of a mission and rock quarry. Rounding the last Headland, we wondered what we would find. A beautiful Crescent of gravel beach, backed by a low flat grassy bank was a welcome sight. A 10 m high waterfall gushed from a cleft in a low rocky cliff. I was already cold before we landed and didn’t have another layer to add. I unpacked my boat as fast as I could, and started fumbling with the stove to make hot water. Frank noticed me shivering and quietly took over stove duties so I could get changed. Half of our evening meals are quick to prepare freeze dried ration packs from happyyak. After mushroom and cheese risotto, JF and Frank went for a walk and discovered some old bricks and a rusty stove. I took a quick look at the photos and went to bed. I was very glad it’s my turn to be last watch so I got almost 8 hours in bed uninterrupted. Now it’s 6:30 AM I’m two hours into my watch. I have two hot water bottles inside my clothes. One is wrapped around the damp thermal trousers that I will have to put back on before paddling. I love being out here in the wilderness. It’s beautiful and exciting and makes me feel alive. We haven’t seen anybody else for 2 weeks, but there are times when I’d be very grateful for a hot bath and a clean dry set of paddling clothes!

It’s time to start making breakfast for everyone I think I’ll treat us with bacon and eggs or pancakes.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.