From the end of the last exciting chapter (visit from the parents), it’s been an enjoyable but speedy trip north and east to Alaska.
Our last few months can be separated into three legs. The first leg was from central Honschu (the main Japanese Island) north to the tip of Hokkaido. The second was from Hokkaido to the Aleutians. The final leg took us from Attu, at the tip of the Aleutians, to the Alaska Peninsula. As fair warning from the start, this is a long one!
Our trip up the Sea of Japan was largely uneventful. We enjoyed some okay sailing, but the lack of wind necessitated long days of motoring, dodging fishing gear, and finding a berth against a concrete wall in a fishing port each night. We usually started our days early and ended with a walk.
We continued to enjoy the small offshore Japanese Islands. One of our favorites was a tiny speck of rock named Kojima, located in the strait between Honschu and Hokkaido.
We continued north through more fishing ports and a large marina near Sapporo.
While the small islands are beautiful and have the advantage of no bears, we appreciated the warnings provided on the mainland.
The small islands provided wonderful abandoned roads, interesting forests, and very cute signage.
A few days in Sapporo gave us a taste of big Japanese cities (delicious) and we enjoyed a set-menu sushi dinner for our anniversary. With good weather in the forecast, we made two final day-sails north to Rishiri Island just a few miles from Wakkanai, the port from which we would leave Japan.
Despite a slightly rolly harbor and torrential rain, Rishiri ended up as one of our favorite places in Japan. Wonderful hiking, friendly people, and crystal clear water all convinced us to stay a few more days.
The relatively short weather windows for departing Japan to the Aleutian cause a traffic jam of sorts, with all of the boats departing from the west coast of Japan arriving in Wakkanai at the same time. We saw a workable weather window and sailed the final leg to Wakkanai. Our passage prep was completed- diesel full, bottom scrubbed, survival suits checked.
We tied up in the small sea station, cleared out the next day, and were ready to depart. This is the first time that we have traveled with other boats and we enjoyed getting to know a wonderful group of people.
In classic sailor group-think and thanks to a strong breeze blowing through the harbor, all lines were let go within about an hour. Let the race begin!
The passage from Japan to to the Aleutians is odd since boats can either leave from the NW corner of Hokkaido, crossing the Sea of Okhotsk before transiting one of three passes through the Russian Kuril Islands, or they can leave from the NE corner, but then travel up the east coast of Hokkaido and skip the small islands and Sapporo. We opted for the colder waters and discomfort of transiting for many days in Russian waters associated with the western route. After a few days of light wind beating we were able to broad reach through the fourth Kuril pass, just south of the Kamchatka Peninsula.
No speed records were set, but surprisingly, this was our mellowest passage of our entire Pacific trip. It was also our slowest. Our maximum wind speed was about 25 knots on the last day into Attu. It was amazing to see the sea life return as we moved away from Japan and into wilder waters. The days passing through the Kurils were filled with sea birds, including 3 kinds of albatross, puffins, fulmars, and countless others. In roughly 1,500 nm we burned 6 gallons of diesel through the engine, 9 gallons in the heater, and ran out of good audiobooks. We also closed the loop for Kuaka when arriving at Attu, where her prior owner had visited in 2018 or 2019.
Despite it’s reputation for terrible weather, we enjoyed a few sunny days on Attu, including a hike up Weston Mountain above Massacre Bay, affording a wonderful view of the runways. During the US re-taking of Attu from the Japanese during WW2, the main runway was built in just 12 days.
With alternating rainy and sunny days, we enjoyed getting to know the other boats in the anchorage and exploring ashore. Having 9 sailboats anchored in Casco Cove is probably some kind of record.
With southerlies in the forecast and curiosity about the wrecked Aleut village in Chichagoff Bay, we moved to the north side of the island.
After a very windy night we decided that it was time to head east again. There are no photos from the 36 hour sail to Kiska – the least pleasant in our entire trip. It turns out that the wind blows hard between the Aleutians and 2-3 knots of current against the wind isn’t great.
A few more days of much more pleasant sailing found us on the west coast of Adak, in a spectacular bay with 360 degree protection.
We stayed a few days, with more alternating days of fog and sun. We had been warned that it was just fog and more fog, so appreciated the rain and sun.
The bay was once home to an Aleut village and the depressions from their earthen houses dotted a hillside. The detritus of a more recent cabin illustrated the genius of the Aleut dwellings, although we did like the chairs.
With an interest in groceries and diesel, we moved around to the abandoned town of Adak. Diesel was procured, as was a nice walk, but no groceries.
Due to the short season and long distances, sailboats transiting from Japan move at roughly the same speed through the Aleutians. This year has a large group, at least 15 boats. We re-joined some friends in the Adak small boat harbor.
A number of good anchorages exist to the east of Adak and we headed off after just one night in the harbor.
We sailed the first day with 4 other boats, although the strong wind between islands and calm behind them made for challenging conditions. Our friends on Manevai, a french aluminum sailboat, were nice enough to send us our first picture of Kuaka sailing!
We anchored at Bechevin Bay on Atka Island, famous for both Caribou and a well preserved crashed B-24 Liberator airplane.
The friendly caribou came over to investigate.
And a fox followed us back to our dinghy.
We later learned that the Atka caribou may have the largest antlers in the world.
Another dash between weather systems brought us to Dutch Harbor on Unalaska Island, the primary port of southwest Alaska.
With the standard thick fog, a good Safeway grocery store, and the seafood buffet on Wednesday at the Grand Aleutian Hotel, we stayed a few days. We also found the missing propellor from the Bechevin bomber – outside of the wonderful Aleutians museum.
Despite the best efforts of Bald Eagles, our wind instruments were still at the top of the mast after a week and it was time to move on. The final leg through the Aleutians brought light wind and strong currents, but also incredible wildlife and a bit of sunshine.
One bay was full of whales, including some that appeared to be bubble netting in the murky fog.
And of course puffins. We had no idea that anywhere in the world could have so many puffins.
Officially, a group of puffins are called a “circus” – or alternatively an “improbability”.
And they aren’t the best at taking off.
Two days ago while sailing in 15-20 knots of wind Kuaka shuddered, bounced, and a loud expletive emitted from my mouth. Sh*$*# – I think we just hit a whale! Not a whale, just a magnitude 7.3 earthquake located about 35 miles to the south. Radio chatter gave warning of a likely tsunami and potential aftershocks. The experience gave new meaning to this sign in Sand Point, which had been evacuated due to the tsunami warning (none was observed).
Kuaka left Sand Point this morning and by this afternoon we were anchored again on the Alaska peninsula, ready for the final leg of this voyage. I pulled the dinghy up on shore and found this nice print in the mud, new since the last high tide.
As long as a bear doesn’t eat the crew, a few more weeks will close our loop of the Pacific. Onwards!