"We are expecting a somewhat bumpy flight this morning to Kodiak, so I would ask that you keep your seatbelts fastened for the duration of our trip. Despite some turbulence, I expect our landing to be "quite" safe."
Quite safe........now what could that possibly mean? Would Bucky and I seated in 22a and 22b be spared while 15a and 15c perish? I chose to not dwell on the repercussions that might follow this poor choice of words. The age old, "It was out of my mouth before I knew it." As happens so often, the expected never materializes in as dramatic a fashion as the unexpected. What followed our safe landing in Kodiak City was a week of unexpected days.
"Maybe take the guns out of the hard case and combine the two dry bags into one."
"What do we weigh now?"
We found ourselves in Steve Harvey's hanger trying to pare our gear down as finely as the skin off an apple. What had once seemed essential now lay like dried peels on the cement hanger floor. Gathered together, with backpacks, boots and rain gear on, 630 lbs plus gear, gas and water, 1100 lbs........yes! we can fly in one trip. The expense of this type of flight made two trips, not an option. I, in fact, volunteered to stay in Kodiak City if it came to that.
Our landing was more or less as I had expected. Once again validating that the expected is usually not as "bad" as expected. I was seated in one of the two cabin seats facing the back of the airplane so I was spared Bucky's co-pilot view of sea water washing over the Widgeon windshield.
The blue was regularly washed from the sky in small doses, in much the same way as the waves lapped Alf Island's shale beaches. Grey clouds rolled in and out, punctuated by rain, hail and wet snow. What would start as an overcast grey morning, often turned into a sunny afternoon with only a whisper of wind, only to revert back at dusk to grey skies and severe wind gusts, lifting the corners of our tents, requiring rearranging of tarps and additional tent stakes.
The view from camp toward seal island......named by me due to the presence of numerous adult and juvenile furred sunbathers
Our days were spent glassing for bears. James and Lisle, tucked in the grass and hummocks on one side of the island watching the mainland while Bucky and I did the same on the other side. A Zodiak sat ready in our cove should a bear be seen. It was amazing to me, how quickly Alf felt like home. Images of Robinson Crusoe and the Swiss Family Robinson came to mind. Bucky and I enjoyed following different well pounded deer trails each time we left camp and headed to our side of the island for glassing, hoping to stumble upon a shed antler. Instead, we encountered birds, ducks and many resident island eagles.
Island living and limited gear allows for creativity. Bucky crafted wonderful wooden spatulas and I couldn't wait to place one of the many flat beach rocks on our fire for cooking. We were lucky to receive fish and later crab from our neighbor, Jim who lives on the mainland.
We arrived on Alf during a period of particularly low and high tides enabling us to walk the island's perimeter, beachcombing. The treasures we found are too numerous to mention, but included sea glass, crab buoys, interesting shells and rocks of all shapes and sizes, crab shells, a folding chair, bag included and a human skull. Otters, seals, whales, gulls and oyster catchers kept stealing our attention away from bear glassing to watching otters and seals cavorting in the water before us.
A visit by friends and fellow bear hunters
to be continued........