Horrrible....

I suppose I should make it clear that we never actually change the date, even if we do cross the date line -- The Aleutian Islands are all kept back in time. Actually, I understand that Technically Alaska is in 5 time zones, though we only celebrate two of them.
Dinner is over, a quick barrel full of Parmesiagn Noodles to go with the medicines. Today was a horrible day at sea. The Crossing from Gareloi to Amchitka is 70+ miles of open ocean... Pacific fighting the Bering sea for control of the area. Add to that the high winds, and you get very rough waters. If that weren't enough, there's some remnants of a typhoon that's working its way into the area over the next few days.

I've been in the Galley most of the day. Actually, this is no different than most days... I try to do a little work, but usually end up playing games or sifting through my music. It is horribly difficult to keep a coherent thought while being pitched about. Today's waves were up to about 20', and just rocked the boat heartily. Water poured over the sides of the boat, causing geysers between the floorboards as it sloshed back and forth. The Galley window was underwater many times thorugh the day -- trading the greys of the arial world for the aquamarine of the water and the white of the foam. While it was entertaining at first, it got old quickly. I was still laughing to myself in general when Anthony repeatedly admonished me that I'd never been in a real survival situation. I have; only I usually never realize it 'till it is all over -- and that's fine with me.

Right now we're at anchor in Constantine Bay, a somewhat protected area of Amchitka Island. Arrival was just after sunset. The wind was blowing against the docks, so we're hanging out at anchor. This is also good for one other reason: Rats. Apparently, the Island is absolutely overrun with rats. The foxes were exterminated (after having been introduced), but the introduced rats remained and grew strong. We'll have to be careful to not let any on board, 'cause it would be devistating to birdlife if we accidentally introduce them to Semisepochnoi.

Another item of note: birds land on the boat each night. One of them, the storm petral, is a cute little thing, with a funny nose (normal beak, but nose comes off & up at an angle in some sort of cone structure) is a mild mannered bird... The ship is periodically swept, and all birds are tossed overboard (set free, that is). Otherwise, they crawl into the cracks-crannies, and get squished or trapped or whatever, and die.

The others are doing fairly well. Hardly a peep was heard from most, as the bunks were the popular hangout spot of the day. Feeling headachy, and tired of the rocking, I passed out this afternoon for a few hours, too.


Movie: Red Dragon.
Breakfast will be served at 9am. See ya there.

Waiting for my noon-time dramamine to kick in

The whole ships being massively rolled around. About an hour ago, Guy and Cyrus had to go up top to secure the huts which were shifting about 6 inches or so (frighting to see); Chief tossed his cookies; every little while the galley window is nearly submerged (or is partially submerged). This is truly navigating the aleutians. Speaking of navigating, we've just crossed the 180 date line and none of the navigation equipment really likes that. (So, technically, it's 9/10/2005, I suppose)

Unfortunately, I have no photos to add on this ugly topic, though videos may find their way to my regular website...

No one is to be seen; they're all clinging to their bunks, most likely. I've been occupying myself with cleaning out my computer's music files.

out and about again

We've been under weigh since midnight. The fish & chips weighed on me heavily, so I lay in bed wondering where I stashed my dramamine. I never looked for it, I'm happy to say. The seas were rough, and I was wondering when we'd turn back; though I now know we didn't. Josh reports good time (11 knots), so we just might be in Amchitka by midnight.

Yesterday, we found a backgammon game. Horray!

VFW

Just came back from the VFW in town. We ate some fish & chips and played a little pool. Being the garbage-disposal that I am, I plowed through my meal; others snubbed the fish -- apparently it wasn't that great.

The plan now? Midnight departure: weather depending.

venturing forth

(time adjusted to Aleutian / Hawaii time)
Well, we just made our first attempt to leave Adak; and have just turned the boat around to return to dock. Seas are probably 25' up ahead. Now absolutely everyone has had the pleasure of experiencing the joys of seasickness. Somewhat amusing, but not very. The smell of vomit is now begining to seep throuout the boat. blech.

Maybe we'll try later, but my guess is that we're in Adak one more night.

Adak

Actually, it is 11:32 9/7/2005, Aleutian Time. We changed our clocks this morning. Sometime really early this morning, I awoke to the blatantly obvious lack of rocking, as well as a relatively quiet engine. The reason? As surmised, we were approaching Adak.

We arrived into port around 7:30am, and ate breakfast with John Paskie, who came on down to the boat. Cyrus' idea of waking him up to a full-moon didn't quite come through; instead he just called John on the sat-phone and informed him of our arrival.

Adak harbor is pretty, with very few ships (5) and a sparkling clear bay. Plenty of Sea anemonies are attached to the piers, and lots of jellyfish flop about in the waters here.

The town of Adak is pretty interesting. It used to be populated by about 7000 navy personnel when there was a base here. The Skipper tells of how he'd been here in the 80's, when it was really hopping. He was offered a job making pizza. He also told an interesting story of an engineer who made good with the wife of the captain in charge of something or other. The guy ended up buying the gun of the captain, for self-preservation reasons, as much as anything.

In 1996, the base pulled out. Now only about 70 people live here. Only, there's still a huge modern town here. The suburbian buildings are in pretty good shape for having been left here 10 years. Slight signs of decay are around... cars are all dented... There's a health-trail whos equipment is rusted and signs are ripped... Lawns are completely overgrown with weeds... very few people walk the streets. All in all, it is a very interesting ghost town.

The old Fish and wildlife house is a good example of this decay. Some while ago, they pulled out of a large building. Now, it's a mostly-unfurnished building. Mustang suits still hang in neat rows... displays at the visitor center are still halfway assembled. The list of local animals remainswritten in chalk in the lecture hall. It is in this building where our communication hub lies.

Several times over the course of the day, I --in various combinations with others-- logged on in there to access the internet. Among the news items: More info was needed for my Chile registration. Also, Steve sent in an abstract for me.

There's a bunkhouse with a really nice kitchen where the others stayed. Today we caught up with Max, Ed, Guy, Michelle, Jessica, and Tina. They'll be coming on board tomorrow morning for our trip to Amchitka. Yes, the weather outlook is still bleak... We all hung out and had Pizza for dinner.

I've moved into a different cabin for the duration of our trip. There are still 3 bunks, but they're staggered,so I can actually sit up and type.

Atka area

The sea ahead and to port is whitish grey. The sea ahead to starboard is dark. The sea behind is a deep beautiful aquamarine. Today I napped. After waking, I consulted with the skipper, who thinks we may be in Adak by midday tomorrow. We'll see... The waves have smoothed out a bit... well, amplitudes are still sorta big, but the periods are long enough that the boat is rising and falling with them, rather than breaking against them. Right now we're approaching Atka, on the north side. Fog and clouds are preventing a good view of the Island.

Called Katie and Mom. Both were surprised to hear from me.

Still bouncing along

I'm *still* amazed I can sleep on a trip like this. I was afraid to actually get out of bed, because of the abuse received when standing or walking the hallways. At some point yesterday, I nearly knocked the stuffing out of myself trying to get to the bathroom. Sitting here, in my room, I can feel my spine expanding and contracting by an inch or so, depending on the wave action. We're migrating a long stretch without much protection- -and I haven't been up and outside to see if there were any whales. This morning's breakfast: oatmeal & toast.

Movie: "Free Range". a bit over cinematic and overdramatic -- typical Costner. However, there are a couple nice gunfight sequences.

Darkness descends

Skipper brought our course in close to Cleveland. Unfortunately, it's been both too dark and too cloudy to tell much. By morning we should be long past this place. I actually caught a glimpse of the weather charts. Lots o' pins on the flags. Also plenty of triangles. pins - 10mph (I think), Flags - 50mph. Gonna try to sleep tonight, but I don't have my hopes up.

The Islands of the Four Mountains

We're in the cradle of the Islands of the Four Mountains. Unfortunately, our mountain of choice - Cleveland - is shrouded in clouds; as are all the other islands. The water has smoothed out enough for us to eat, though I can't say that I'm extremely eager to do so, even with a moment of peace. Tonight: Rueben & stroganoff. Yesterday we had ? Day before was Steaks (mmm) -- I think. It all mushes together. Somewhere in our dinner menus, we've had Corned beef, too. How many days have I been out here?

I found out later, that perhaps cleveland had an eruption. No sign from down below, though...