–Caitlin + Jason
Face-masked and carrying duffels of food, the four of us flew from Oakland to Kodiak on June 1. As much as we were looking forward to reuniting with Debonair and to resuming our voyage as a family, it was hard to leave California as the protests were gaining powerful momentum. We haven’t had access to any news in two weeks, and we wonder how you and the world around you are.
In the meantime, we are plunged in other worlds and states of being here. The winter in Kodiak, one of the snowiest in years, was hard on Debonair. We arrived at the head of her dock by taxi on a rainy evening and set to unearthing our bunks from under piles of sails. Water had found its way into every crevice on deck and ice had opened some of those crevices into leaks. Our bunk was far too wet to sleep on that first night.
After a week of long work days for all four of us, and after being screened for Covid, we came out of quarantine to fill our lockers with provisions and pick up tools and supplies.
We didn’t manage to repair our electric windlass (still hauling the chain by hand), but it was time to go. We said good bye to kind friends we made in Kodiak and sailed for Afognak, the island just to the north. It was a relief to be underway again, the boat moving through and over the water in the way that’s become so familiar to us.
Sailing toward our final Afognak anchorage, the breeze began to die. We ghosted along. Then, in the quiet, we started to hear a great distant roar, which resolved, as we approached the shore, into the barking and groaning of hundreds of sea lions. Humpback whales surfaced ahead of us, and then all around us–gliding, feeding, releasing great sighing breaths, and then diving. Behind us, they started spyhopping and slapping the water with their fins. As if it were one big party, bald eagles soared onto the scene, and tufted puffins skittered off the water ahead of us. Arctic terns dove again and again as the sun, still high in the sky, fell a little lower. We felt like we were being given a great welcome back to this wild place after our time away, after the challenges of this year, after the work to get Debonair sailing again.
After most of an hour drifting under the sheer cliffs among the whales, we started the engine, motored into Tonki Bay, and dropped the hook to sleep before the next day’s long trip across to the Kenai Peninsula.
This coast of the Kenai is true wilderness. We are so far from anybody here. Snow-capped peaks and spruce-covered islets slide by as we sail through fjords. We spent one day motoring up to the head of a fjord to meet the Aialik Glacier, a very active glacier flowing into Aialik Bay from the Harding Ice Field. We drifted for an hour in the slush ice and listened in awe to the booming and cracking of the glacier.
Due to Covid concerns, we aren’t using the showers at the boat harbors this year, so we took advantage of a windless and relatively warm day in Tonsina Bay, our first anchorage in the Kenai, and set up a bit of a spa in the sun on the foredeck. You might disagree with our use of the term, but to us it was a spa, and we took turns with pots of hot water and soap and thick dry towels, and all was good.
When a low pressure system was forecast to come through a few days ago, we took cover in one of the few anchorages on this part of the coast—the depths are generally too great for anchoring. We were glad to turn a sharp corner just past the entrance into Crater Bay and find almost 360 degree protection from the wind and, as a stunning bonus, two 500’ waterfalls spilling down steep walls. We learned pretty quickly, though, that the geography of this particular cove, instead of protecting us from the easterly wind, increased that wind and directed it at us from different directions in a meteorological phenomena called a williwaw.
Through the night and the next morning, as we strained at our anchor, the wind alternately gusted from the north, driving against our starboard bow and healing us hard to port, and from the west, pummeling our port bow. In the strongest gusts, we would hear a seething roar as we watched whitecaps race toward us ahead of the wind; as the gust increased to 50 knots and more, it blew the tops of the waves up in great, white, wedge-shaped spumes of spray. Wearing exposure suits against the wind and horizontal rain, we went on deck to secure halyards and lash down flogging sail covers. The wind was powerful on deck—you couldn’t look into it–but it was reassuring to see that, despite the forces, Debonair and her anchor tackle were keeping us safe.
In the morning the wind flipped our little dinghy, Pepita. She was mostly submerged, and it would take concerted teamwork to bring her aboard safely in these conditions. As the gusts allowed, Caitlin and Alma brought Pepita alongside, Jason used a brief lull to climb into the dinghy to attach a lifting rig, and Arlo handled the halyard at the winch. After she was secured on deck, we felt as if someone had been looking out for us. We were lucky that the oars were still wedged in under the thwarts where we’d left them.
There’s some recovery after 18 hours like that. Exposure suits need to dry, sail covers need to be resewn, hearts need to return to their normal resting state. Though the wind was down today, we stayed put, running the diesel heater to dry out, eating pancakes to start the day and baking cookies to end it, reading, writing and appreciating the quiet and the stillness.
We’re looking forward to sailing into Seward soon, where we’ll get news of the outside world and post this news of ours. We are thankful for our boat, for each other, for this beautiful place and the opportunity to see it, for the welcome we’ve received from Alaskans, and for you all–wherever you are–and for the good work you are doing.
A few days ago we were all lying on a great granite erratic on the shore of Midnight Cove, soaking in the sun, thinking our own thoughts. Arlo moved his head from Jason’s boot, which he’d been using as a pillow. “I like thinking,” he said, “that there’s nothing but earth between me and the center of the earth, and there’s nothing but sky between me and the ends of the universe.” It’s useful to be away from some of the distractions, the noise of life ashore, to remember our place in the world.
Wow! Sounds like quite the adventure already! It looks stunningly beautiful there and More importantly glad you came out safe on the other side of that crazy wind & rain. We miss you here already but look forward to seeing more of your incredible adventures. XO
We miss all of you tons!!!! Wish we could share a salmon dinner on the back deck. Hugs!
Wow is about all I can say. What adventures. Can’t wait until the next entry. Sail on 👏👏👏
Thank you for that, Kaye! We’re feeling lucky.
Hugs to all! We were all zooming yesterday and wondering together how you all are😃❤️Thanks for the beautiful update and what a fantastic string of adventures. Wish I was there specially for that display of sea lions whales and eagles… bet that salmon was tasty. Xxxxx
Zoom love from Alaska to Schwarzmans everywhere! Wish you were here too!
Hugs and love and thanks, as always, for sharing your adventures with us!
❤️
♥️ thank you, monifa. Hugs and love back to you and your family.
After living “at home” for soooo long this is a wonderful uplift thank you for sharing Be safe
Thanks Marietta! Good to hear from you.
“Uplift” is right-this story, all its detail and nautical vocabulary are so refreshing and hopeful! Love your photos. Keep ‘em coming. 🙂
Thanks, Arah! So nice to hear from you. Start well.
So awesome! I’m hoping for some photos of the whales and sea lions at some point. You make it all come alive with your writing…
I loved Seward when we were there. Neat little fishing village type of town.
Keep up the messages when you can, and stay safe!
Love from Kansas,
Lou Anne
The whales are tough ’cause you never know where you’re going to see them next. They’re sneaky. The Sea Lions like to lie around. We’ll see what we can do! The sea otters are the cutest. And they’re sometimes not too shy. We’ll try for them too.
Love from Alaska!
I’m glad to hear your cool family is back to sea. Fair winds! Thanks for the stories
Great to hear from you, Kristen! We’re moving DEBONAIR toward home … Planning to leave her somewhere between here and Seattle this winter. Then back to the Bay area for work & school. Let’s connect then!
Your family is amazing. Stay safe.
Thanks Tom. Love from all of us.
So well written. I felt like I was there struggling with you all. And the pictures are amazing!
As always, I’m so jealous and excited for your adventures. Thanks for keeping us on board with you. Be well. (BTW – you should be pretty happy about not getting any news…)
Thanks Bry! Good to hear from you. Hiked to an overlook by a glacier today. Thought yet again of you and me and Steve at Howth. Fine times!
Such a pleasure to read more updates from you all, and a welcome respite from the news of 2020! Stay safe and happy adventuring!
Thanks Cara! It was strange and difficult to leave, but once we got out here it was powerfully rejuvenating.
It’s refreshing to read of your days & times on Debonair in remote places. Good planning on your part for putting yourselves in such places during times like these.
Fair weather & good sailing this summer.
Thanks Judy! It is very good to be way out here again. In a lot of ways.
Sooooo good to hear from you all!!
Keep your eye out for Emily and Brent and their boat Katabatic. Emily got a grant through SEA for their voyage.
https://canvasandice.weebly.com/about-us.html
If you have time to look them up on the great interweb, they will show their location and their project called Canvas and Ice.
Also keep your ears open for Richard Jacobi in Seward. I sailed with him way back when on Ocean Star.
Hugs and kisses.
Just checked out Katabatic’s cool project! I wish we’d crossed paths with them. We’ll hope to run into Richard here in Seward! Know anyone else in Prince William sound or near Juneau? 😜
Hugs to you and Mike! 💚💚💚
Oh my goodness. I’m going to send you a picture. Check your email!
The photos are terrific, as usual. Thanks for sharing the world with us.
Caitlin’s birthday card – and a collection of old photos – will be waiting for you in Alameda when you return.
We are heading to Pend ‘oreille Lake tomorrow to spend a couple of weeks at the cabin. Hoping for good weather and sunshine. Might be too early for huckleberries, but we’ll get it opened up for Devin and Jess who will follow us next month.
Safe travels. Love to all. Susan and Fred
That all sounds, great, Susie! Enjoy lovely Pend’oreille. Hoping you get many more Huckleberries than wasps. It’s great thinking about August there too. So many generations!
Thank you for the lovely update; next year some time if all goes well we can meet up again. This year’s Master Mariners’ was all in my head, but included the year we had Ed Rassmussen, Alma Seimer’s uncle, on the boat, and all the other years, all rolled up into one.
Thanks Nolan! Those were all such excellent times. And it’s nice how they all swirl together!
So neat to be on board with you, again! I chat with Nancy once a week,
but, of course, have not seen her in months. Things are slightly more open.
Be well and safe,
Taffy
I will echo many others and say, wow, already so much adventure! You all seem to be riding the ups and downs like the voyage-toughened sea hands that you are. And williwaw? What a wonderful word.
Thank you for all that, Kira, and for the alliteration too!
The best news I’ve read all week. I’d like to replace my regular daily reading with only your posts. I can feel the wind and hear the glacier. Thank you!
Thanks, Heather, for reading and writing and feeling the wind! We’re leaving from Seward this morning, bound for Prince William Sound. Sending lots u of love!
Wow, did I have a vicarious thrill reading that. What an adventure you guys are having-Jack London has nothing on y’all.
Wishing you safety and adventure and hoping a Pacific rendezvous is in our future.
Best to Jason, Arlo and Alma.
Here’s to a Pacific gam in not to distant future!
Here’s to the rendez vous!
Great to hear from you! Your photos are beautiful! Enjoy your travels.
Thank you for reading and for your good wishes!