Part Two - Escape Nome and Sail South
Sailing the Bering Sea can be a beast or a beauty. We had a little of both.
Journal Entry: Tuesday, July 4th, 2023. Nome, Alaska.
"We cannot control the wind, but we can adjust the sails. Reef early, remember my sailing mentor Roger Swanson and channel his wisdom and his discipline. Execute a flawless voyage for Polar Sun, just as done on s/v Cloud Nine. Be confident.The clouds just cleared and the Bering Sea came glimmering through the sullen, gloomy overcast. My old friend, my old nemesis, the Bering Sea, appeared beneath me. I have arrived." David Thoreson
For the fourth time in my life, I am in remote Nome, Alaska, to partake in a Northwest Passage related sailing adventure. It's a strange home away from home in the far north for me. Nome is the gatekeeper in and out of the Arctic situated strategically near Russia, the Bering Strait and just below the Arctic Circle.
I was returning to Polar Sun to continue the voyage that started last summer on the end of the dilapidated pier in Tuktoyaktuk, NWT. Funny, I was also in Nome on the 4th of July sailing with s/v Ocean Watch at the beginning of the 2009 Around the America’s Voyage. Our crew was on the front end of an East/West Northwest Passage voyage.
I was looking forward to the challenge of the Bering Sea again, although older and a little less nimble than I used to be. I had the usual pit in my stomach because I understood the dangers ahead in these treacherous waters of the world where storms develop quickly. I knew it would be a great adventure with Mark Synnott and my new mates, Mister Dirt and Jared, both climbing friends of Mark’s, new and old.
We were attempting an 1800-mile sail from Nome south through the Bering Sea, Aleutian Islands and into the North Pacific Ocean, then east across the Gulf of Alaska to SE Alaska and the beginning of Alaska's Inside Passage. Somewhere in the northern end of the passage we would put the boat up for season to return in 2024, but where?
Journal Entry:
Wednesday, July 5-8th. Nome Harbor to Scammon Bay, 150 nm (nautical miles)
"Holy F**k. What a nightmare. I never ever would have imagined this place to anchor a boat yet here we are. Just as in climbing, we are hanging off a ledge, in a channel in the lee of Cape Romanzoff, near a place they call Windy Cape. Very dangerous. I hope my sailing career has not come to an end in this horrible place at the end of the earth. We did make 150 miles south, so I guess it is some progress."
As always the case, the first days of a grand adventure were a blur of action. I arrived at the boat in sunny weather. Maybe it was their four-day summer as a local described; I’m not sure.
The crew had just begun rigging work after moving the boat onto the floating dock. The main sail was ready but the headsails were not. I threw my bags in my bunk on Polar Sun and immediately began work on rigging the jib. Finished that, unpacked and stowed my gear. We drove off to Airport Pizza for some dinner. Nome is just as I imagined it; nothing has really changed. It's a dirty harbor town and gold mining outpost at the end of the earth.
The rigging continued the following day. There are always endless check lists before departing. Mark and Dirt were working on the engine and freshwater systems until early evening while I cooked dinner. Mark and I then worked through AI-generated "Predict Wind" weather forecasts and planned our sailing opportunities. Looked like a Friday departure, but the relentless southerlies were on our nose and the idea seemed to be to protect Jared and Dirt (from potential seasickness) by motor sailing in light weather towards Nash Harbor or pull up short in another anchorage.
The plan worked until we got near the remote western Alaskan Coast. The winds and seas picked up. The waters were shallow at 12-18 feet. Dirt and Jared were hating life and very sick in rough seas. We needed an anchorage. The sketchy Scammon Bay would have to suffice.
This is how it goes when expedition sailing. It is exhilarating, challenging, dangerous and beautiful, all wrapped into one. Then it repeats everyday and night until the voyage ends. I've been doing this professionally for 35 years now and it never changes. I know the drill. I would also not be doing this if I got seasick, which I don't, must be my good Iowa upbringing.
We slept until noon the following day, made some repairs and left in calm weather at 0600 the following morning in clearing weather and fair winds for the Aleutian Islands some 450 miles away. What developed from here was the nicest weather I have ever experienced in the Bering Sea as we had a perfect sail to these formidable islands groups extending hundreds of miles to the west. We had decided to take the first cut through a channel called "False Pass," a small boat passage used by fisherman working the coastal waters.
Upon entering the channel, we noticed the imposing Mt. Shishaldin, an active volcano rising 10,000-feet from the sea that seems to be very active. Turns out it was erupting and we made a very quick visit, and stop, through the channel. The village of False Pass has about fifty people but there is an active cannery there employing about 800 workers from Alaska, Asia and Russia who would need evacuation if the volcano blew. We didn't stay to find out but it did make international news.
It's hard to fathom but when you go through the Aleutians you are farther west than the Hawaiian Islands. The route back to the east would be a 1200-mile slog and we decided to take a route along the beautiful, remote and seldomly explored, Alaskan Peninsula. We experienced wild wind patterns, with gusts to 40 knots filtering through the mountains from the Bering Sea to the Pacific Ocean. The advantage was we could stop to anchor, and rest, in very protected little coves we discovered along the shoreline. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
Further down our route, we got a radio message from some fishermen we had met in False Pass, that we had sailed very near a strong (7.3) earthquake. We had felt it and wondered if we were having engine issues or trouble with our shaft. Strange vibration. There was a tsunami warning in the area all around us and the small village of Sand Point was being evacuated. That was our destination. Oh well, just another day sailing in Alaskan waters.
And so it went, days on end, grand adventures in strange, sparsely inhabited lands. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I felt tremendous gratitude for the opportunity to sail and visit these spots on the map where few have been.
The names of the mountains, bays, straits, points, islands and channels always fascinate me. From my journal: Remember all the names of places along this section. Necessity Cove, Cape Tachilini, Telegraph Hill, King Cove, Bold Cape, Belkovski Point, Goloi and Dolgoi Islands, Pavlov Islands, Wosnesenski Island, Unga and Popof Islands, Korovin Island, Kupreanof Peninsula, Humpback Bay and Mitrofania Islands.
Next, we sailed through Shirikof Strait and into a nice anchorage on Kodiak Island. We had an amazing few days there stretching our legs, visiting an old, abandoned cannery and observing a couple humpback whales putting on a show for us. The onward we sailed to the east, past the Homer Peninsula and sailed into port at Seward for a break.
After some rest and exercise, our sail continued through the Gulf of Alaska to the east. We made one last stop in spectacular Lituya Bay for an overnight. Very scary, tricky entrance with a lot of current. We entered on the flood tide so there was 3+ knots running with us. No place to get sideways!
Anchoring was dangerous in the bay as there were many old trees under water from a huge 1958 earthquake which produced a wave that denuded the tree line up to 1700 feet up the mountainous surrounding walls. According to the US Coast Pilot, giant waves are a recurring phenomenon with catastrophic waves observed in 1853, 1874 and 1936. This was one of the many remarkable stories we experienced on this most amazing journey.
One of our last sights along the Alaskan coast was the strange border area drawn between the United States and Canada. This remote Wrangell St. Elias Mountain range contains some of the highest peaks in North America with Mount Logan standing at 19,500 feet coming right up from sea level. Are you kidding me?
Journal Entry: Tuesday, August 1st, 2023. Elfin Cove, Alaska.
"We made it! We have successfully crossed the Gulf of Alaska and arrived in the cute little fishing village of Elfin Cove marking the beginning of the Alaska Inside Passage. Polar Sun covered the 1,730 nm in 23 days after leaving Nome July 7th. It is interesting to note the stated population of Elfin Cove is 34 people on my old Alaska map from 2004, but locals say it is much less and 15 people voted in last year’s election. It appears that 4 people live here in the winter."
We decommissioned Polar Sun for the season in Elfin Cove. Mark and his family (wife Hampton, son Tommy, 9 years old) will join Mark during the summer of 2024 to sail the Inside Passage and get acclimated to the boating life. This is all part of Mark's journey from professional mountaineer to sailor. They will begin a family circumnavigation of the globe in 2025, and I will certainly be a big part of this on-going voyage meeting them down the path in Mexico.
So ends my 4000-mile sailing adventures over the past two years on Polar Sun with Mark Synnott. Holy smokes, what profound times and adventures I have had along the way.
Mark, Mister Dirt and I took a float plane out of Elfin Cove and flew over the mountains and winding waters to Juneau. Once there, we hugged and said our goodbyes at security. Off they went into their own worlds of the next crazy adventures. I slept in the Juneau airport and got up at 0430 for morning coffee to start my flights back to Minneapolis. I then drove back home to Lake Okoboji, Iowa. How strange it is to reenter the "normal" world after great travels and adventures. It's a challenge as I continue to ponder the deeper mysteries of life and what comes next with the time I have left on Planet Earth.
Journal Entry: Sunday, April 13th, 2025.
Departed Minneapolis, flying to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Prepared to meet Mark, Polar Sun and his family as we depart for another sailing adventure across the South Pacific, Equator and venture into the French Marquesas Islands. Following in the footsteps of my boyhood hero, Thor Heyerdahl, who inspired me to be a sailor and adventurer. Departure April 15th.
What new stories and memories will be made from this voyage? One can only imagine...
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