The good thing is the winds are likely to be from the west... This is what our fisherman was worried about, and that is why he always took the inshore passage. Of course I had considered this, but it puts a lot of miles to the already long trip.
Tuesday 24-9-2019 55’29N 168’08W COG 160 SOG 8.5 kn Wind West 20kn Fork tailed Storm Petrels, Sooty Petrels, Short tailed.
When signing up for the NWP trip of Tecla, I decided to conduct some beach observations using the OSPAR beach litter classification scheme as guideline. I did not follow their strict instruction to square off a 100m or 1 km section
We first have to watch the Northern Light show in peace, watch the full moon set for another hour or so and try and spot the whales we keep hearing around us. Some even as close as 50 meters from the ship. We can not make out what sort they are, we hear their spout and then see a glimpse of their back if we are looking in the right direction.. but can not tell whether something is a dorsal vin or small wave.. it is just too dark for that..
This island of about 100 km2, roughly 10 by 10 km, is the only one along an otherwise relatively straight coastline between the Mackenzie delta to the east and well into Alaska to the west.
We could hear the propeller singing, the ship is humming, it sounds like 7 knots! But the GPS tells us differently.. hmmmm so this North East current we read about, is really happening here... damn.
Nome, Alaska, is via our plotted course line still 632 miles away. Every now and then the TTA (time to arrival) is 5 days.. some times it is only 3 days and 8 hours. It feels a bit like the countdown has started. For our expedition crew this seems to mean gather pictures, recalling the memories
After days of breathtaking and zealously dancing northern lights, this night we have to do with lazy and broad chalky strokes on the celestial slate. For only a short while we observe this aurora
The head ranger tells a good story, he can keep a group busy for hours, on just a small piece of land, that seems to shift and relocate itself throughout the years. The locals are used to the moving island, and when the coastline comes to close, they move their house.
The beach was littered with drift wood, big and small, grey, weathered and old, no plastic. But alas, as they climbed over the first bit of permafrost close to shore, there it was
