270°

Two hundreds and seventy degrees. Two hundred, according to definition is ten more than one hundred ninety while seventy is a number equivalent to the product of seven and ten, or ten less than eighty. For us it was simply the direction that my compass was showing over the past few paddling days.

It was 270 when I was towing Lindsey across the Lough Swilly into headwind and swell, so her boat keeps only twenty metres behind mine. The wind was pushing us more and more into the bay while we were trying to reach the Fanad Headland.

It was 270 when we were paddling again few days later towards Horn Head, and impressive headland with cliffs as high as 180 metres above the sea. The direction was pointing straight at the small incline in the cliff, which I chosen as my wee stop. It didn’t disappoint, it was there, and even sheltered enough from swell. Here Head was spectacular, birds, cliffs, waves, but fortunately now tideraces running. True is, we enjoyed two hours lunch while waiting for tide and swell to die down a little bit. On top of the cliff we can see a look out tower, and ai must say these towers are piece of art, built in napoleonic era.

It was 270 when we continued to island of Inishbofin (Innis Bo Finne) a small island once inhabited. It was very hot as we were approaching the island. Hot to the point that we had to take off the tops of our dry suit (don’t try this at home) in order to reach it and not to explode in the heath. That was fine for me, but a real first for Zoe.

People left here by the 1970’s and now only few come back for the summer. However here we got a nice flat grass for our tents, the church was open and had toilets!. We met the islands only artist, some fishermen and one former resident. He invited us into the village hall to show us pictures of himself as a very young man, then some of his neighbours.

Next our journey was towards a distant headland stretching far and long in the distance. It’s name was Bloody Foreland. It was 270 degrees to go to Bloody Foreland. When I looked at amp of Ireland and saw how far this point is, I thought, yeah, what a name. As we started to paddle to it, it seemed endless, so the name bloody seemed appropriate even more. Of course the name was here before us, and apparently the name but after that our direction slightly changed. Bloody Foreland gained it’s name from its rock colour which in evening sun is illuminated in red shades. That’s not what we saw.

For us this headland was significant in other way, too, as after rounding it our compass started to show other directions than west only. Bloody Foreland was our gateway to the west coast.

We paddled past the Gweedore coast and it’s many islands, Inishmeane, Gola, Owey until we ended on Cruit in close distance to golf club bar, open to non-golfers.

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WILD ATLANTIC WAY – FANAD HEAD

If week one saw us paddling every day, week two seems to be a week of being weather bound. It might slow our progress but gives us opportunity to explore the unknown. First we stayed a day at Tullah Bay on Inishowen Peninsula and walked over to the village of Clonmany, known as the Cross as it is built on cross roads and in the past being a centre of the illegal poitín distillation industry. To us is known as the village of many pubs, we counted about six within one short street, as well as Tag of War club. Which apparently has been quite successful in its history of existence and won six world medals and many All Ireland titles. Lovely place with historic churches and waterfalls.

We left Tullah Bay the following afternoon when the weather forecast suggested break in the wind. Still the headwind was quite strong and made our crossing from Dunaff Head over to Fanad Head across Lough Swilly entertaining by swell and wind. Lough Swilly, glacial fjord, and our gateway to county Donegal. We crossed and wanted to finish on the beach we watched every minute of the crossing. The beach was beautiful as beaches go, yellow sand, green grass high on the hill, whitewashed boulders, little stream going into the sea. However there wasn’t any chance to fit even one tent on anywhere. Still, we got our trolley and moved the boats above high water mark, looked around, but soon we were facing a decision. To stay and make it somewhere work, or to move on, as we could be here for few nights than just one.

Even the impressive view of the Fanad Lighthouse didn’t persuade us to stay. After quick snack, trolley dismantled back in the boat, luckily water was coming in, we got the boats back on the water in search of better place. Which could mean another 10 – 15 kilometres. The swell was playful, there and now a wave would wash over one of us and give us salty bath, surf was breaking heavily on the shallows along the shore.

Finally we spotted a sheltered corner of a large bay. Dunes, car park, we decided to stay.

Fanad Lighthouse stood on the cliff in its white glory. Built in 1815 and first lit in 1817, it was occupied by lighthouse keepers until automated in 1983. Fanad Head a strategic place at Lough Swilly, the lighthouse was originally built as a sea light rather than one indicating save passage into the lough’s natural harbour. And since the weather decided we would have few non paddling days, I went to see it. Two accidental events took place here today, first I was sold a tour of the lighthouse which I haven’t intend d to do first, but why not. It’s not very often one can visit working lighthouses, the last one I saw was on Flatey in North Iceland. It was interesting to see the difference in the size of bulbs used to light the lighthouse in the past and nowadays.

The lighthouse tower is 22 metres high from its foundation to the top not including the lantern. The light is 39 metres above sea level and there are 79 steps in the tower.

Second accident was bumping into Geoff from London, whom I last saw in Jersey three weeks ago. Which was great because I could get a picture taken.

THE CAUSEWAY COAST

We spent great day in Glenarm making the most of the facilities, sights, and hospitality, but with the weather improving, it was time to make a move. As Lindsey summarised it, everyone talks about the West coast as the coast to paddle, but the North coast was definitely impressive. The coastline was formed in a range of environments from arid desert, warm tropical seas, explosive volcanic eruptions, to cold glacial conditions providing interesting structures, variety of colours and material. The tides are quite noticeable here, we no longer could paddle when we pleased, and definitely had to get onto the conveyor belt, since getting it wrong would result in no progress at all. As it was we completely missed Cushendun on our way up, and the last chance of filling our cameras with pictures of one of The Doors from Game of Thrones.

But rounding the Torr Head was as spectacular as any old wood carving, I am sure. The first evening we finished at Ballycastle and spent a surprisingly warm if wet night on the concrete of the harbour.

We were even allowed to use the marina, which was great.

The following day was the day of paddling past the causeway itself. A great rainy day with impressive sights. First that came into view was Dunseverick Castle, then the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, first erected in 1755 leading to a cliff with fisherman cottage. Must say nowadays I would rather paddle underneath it than walking over it.

The coast leading to the causeway was impressive, eventually the basalt columns came into view as well the colourful ants of tourist clambering over the basalt columns.

Of course we had to join them. Not sure if they had to pay or not, we haven’t as we came from sea. There and now a whistle could be heard reprimanding unruly tourists trying to go where they shouldn’t. We had a lovely walk and photograph, only when we turned off the path to return to the boats, did we attract attention of a warden trying to stop us going back to the sea, but eventually we made it back to our boats and continued. We still had the the Lough Foyle to cross.

The following day we wanted to go past Malin Head, and around the whole of Inishowen peninsula. We started early, hugged the coast against the tide until about lunchtime.

Finally the tide turned, and not only us were excited about it, we were soon met by a pod of dolphins swimming past, then coming to join us for a bit. But we were probably a bit slow for their liking, and so when we reached a mini tiderace at one of the corners they performed a triple loop to say bye and sped off.

Malin Head gives name to one of the forecast area, Malin, spectacular headland, and also the most northerly point of Ireland. On its tip called Banba’s Crown stands a tower. We watched it for a while so it was important for find some information about it. It was built by the British Admiralty in 1805 as part of a string of buildings right around the Irish coast to guard against a possible French invasion, it also had radio stations during both world wars.

I did promise Lindsey a cup of tea in the village before the headland, then changed it for after the headland. Sadly both villages with amenities were either away from the conveyor belt, or too much inland, and so no tea until we crossed to Tullah Bay.

I felt responsible that poor Lindsey now spent the whole day not having a cup of proper tea that she now so rarely gets on this trip. Then, as we were landing on the beach, after the last ten kilometres crossing, some of it with quite a strong head wind, an opportunity arises. A camper van just arrived to the same spot we planned to camp on. Two people got out, looked around and went to open the van’s door. I thought, great, the arrived and were going to boil water for their cup of tea. So I asked them whether they could get us some for a very tired paddler. I mistook them for English, who would definitely had a cup of tea on arrival to their camping destination.

They were German, but in the end have risen to the challenge, and when one of them came out with a kettle of boiled water, to put into our cups, which we had to quickly found in our boats, they even produced some milk. Milk with one sugar, was all what was needed to renew energy and pitch tents in rain and wind.

Journey of the Solo Expedition Paddler

So here we were first few miles into our trip around Ireland. We already established that we were heading anti-clockwise, all in the team came to terms with that and the miles started to tick. Our team is formed by three women, an university lecturer, a nurse and a teacher. Similar in age but different in kayaking ability. Zoe and I have been kayaking longer than Lindsey. And so over the first few day Lindsey became our solo expedition paddler. The was helped by the fact that she is the only one of the team, who hasn’t ordered drysuit in mantis colour. That makes her to stand out, and unifies Zoe and myself in our roles.

From the beginning we knew that Lindsey will have to build the stamina and strength to be able to paddle for long hours and at reasonable speed. What we also discovered was that some help with forward stroke was needed. Luckily Lindsey took two coaches with her on the trip, and we were only happy to help.

To be honest, the first few days Lindsey’s journey must have been quite lonely, but she powered through rain or shine. Eventually we could change our roles from coaches to being simply staff.

At some point it almost seemed that we have acquired more members of support crew, we were looking forward to setting up a film crew recruiting a rib, but these were very short lived.

To help the Solo Expedition paddler we called in extra support, which delivered bacon butty and tea to the beach at Portavogee (thank you Barry and Craig).

To help Lindsey further after paddling sessions in camp followed with the coaches summarising the days’ achievements, and discuss strategies for the following day.

The strength of the solo expedition paddler grew day by day, and after powering into the headwind between three Stena ferries across Belfast loch, she has become a full time member of the team. The arrival to Whitehead was heroic, and we were rewarded by the stay in an old Coastguard shed for all.

Together we paddled past the Gobbins and admired the modernisation of the old cliff path. The solo paddler was rewarded for her effort by going outside the Muck Island and bird watching.

This is it, the team is now complete and together again.

A Sense of Déjà Vu

We reached Ballygally, and it’s great we did. Originally we thought we would stop just a village before, at the end of the north corner of Larne bay, it had a beach, take away van with coffee and apparently a campsite, too. However eventually we decided to give it one last push around the corner. Ballygally, little did we know it played its part in Game of Thrones, as none of us had ever seen a single episode. Ballygally had slipway, car park with very flat patch of grass, castle hotel with coffee, and later we discovered a great pub called Mattie’s a mile up the road. What’s more in the hotel they had the door. The door, which apparently were shown in the Game of Thrones. Something we didn’t know, so we didn’t take any pictures of it to show. We only learnt about its importance the following day.

The following day we got up early to catch the tide assistance to help us with progress against the strong headwind. We managed ten kilometres, and that was good distance considering Lindsey is still quite new to long sea kayak journeys in various conditions. But eventually it became clear we had to land and finish for the day. We did so in another harbour around another corner. And when we walked up the slipway I had a sense of being here before. Yes, I recognised the old marina building in front of which, seven years ago, Michal and I set up our tent on a concrete. We were on our trip round Britain, got to Northern Ireland, and without map didn’t really know about the coast. We stayed a night in this grey, fairly derelict town with one weird pub (https://homeseahome.com/2012/05/29/islands-hopping/).

Surprise surprise here I was again. Yet, this time things were to be different. Firstly, we found public bathrooms next to an information centre. And as we stood in front of them contemplating what to do next, a lady came out and invited us in for cups of tea and coffee. We now know her name was Christine, she set table and chairs in the middle if the small centre, and got to preparing our drinks while filling us and anyone else, who came in, on information about the place. For example we found out about The doors, about ten of them. We now missed most, but one is still attainable, it’s in Cushendun, which will be on our way up.

When two other ladies came in wondering where they could get coffee, Christine holding just boiled kettle over our cups said “not here, there’s a posh coffee shop in the castle”. We stayed for few hours as time passes quickly once one is back on land. Eventually we walked away with the following: information about the village, arranged storage place for Zoe’s kayak, arranged lift for Zoe to Belfast in the morning, and a rental house for the next 2 nights.

So, we decided to stay in Glenarm until Friday, when the weather should become friendlier. The village shows signs of being a very busy prosperous town back at the turn of 19/20 century with grand houses. It also has a castle, lovely woodland, two pubs, and newly opened little shop. Somehow it also has planters made from old kayaks, this definitely wasn’t here seven years ago.

On top of that the place around the harbour is now covered in grass and flowers rather than concrete like before.

Tiger Who Came to Tea

We left Howght and slowly started to make our way up the east coast. The first few kilometres until Skerries seemed to be the land of Martello Towers. Unfortunately they finished before any picture could have been taken.

The first days were pleasantly uneventful, we spent most time on the water working out how to paddle together, and most time at landings and launching how to join our efforts to get boats on and off as easily as possible.

There and now Zoe and Lindsey still tried to go or at least to have an idea what it would look like if we went clockwise, but it was more and more obvious that land on the left is just fine.

Eventually we came to a place called Kilkeel. It was time for lunch and we picked out a landing place at the end of the bay. As we were coming closer to land a man, later known as Mike, came to shore asking us whether we wanted tea. Lindsey had not had a proper tea since the ferry, and her eyes just lit up. Soon we were sitting on chairs in front of his friend Adrian’s house, having coffee, biscuits and lunch.

Our next target was Newcastle. We didn’t get there the same day, but the following one after a night on a very bouldery patch of beach squeezed between high tide mark and fence. I have a feeling there would be more of that later.

In Newcastle we planned to do a quick refill of some lunch stuff, maybe get the first coffee of this trip for me, and Lindsey had her eyes set on chips. Little did we know how exciting the stop in Newcastle would be. First we stopped on the beach on the left side of town, at incoming tide, it wasn’t the best, so Zoe stayed by the kayaks while we went to quickly fulfil our tasks. Sadly this part of town had no chips and no food stores, just cafes. We returned to kayaks and decided to paddle to the right side of the town to get closer to the less touristy and more locals’ part of it. This time we decided to approach the high street by landing in the river and again leaving Zoe on shore. Again it proved to be not so easy, as the supermarket was even more out on the edge of town, but we shopped in the first very posh butcher, then bakery. Lindsey got the chips, so all was good. However the tide was coming in quite fast by then. And so Zoe became the poster girl of Peak UK eating her chips while holding her kayak on the tow line to stop it disappearing to the sea.

After Newcastle the big Dundrum Bay awaited us. We had headwind in the morning, and were dreading the long crawl along it. However we were in luck, while we were being entertained by Newcastle the wind died down, and eventually turned in our favour. It carried us all the way to St John’s point.

What an exciting place that is. The lighthouse shone at us the previous night, and during the crossing changed its colours from red and white, green and yellow to black and yellow. What’s more the stop we had to have had some local occupants on, who became very curious of us, yet made it very clear that we shall not step a foot further.

Lindsey even got in the water holding her paddle in her newly acquired wide grip shouting that she was a strong swimmer. Luckily we were allowed to do what we needed to do and proceeded further along the coast towards Gun Island. Tonight we are sleeping on a ismuth, and I am very fond of ismuths.

Eeny Meeny Miny Moe – Which way shall we go?

So here we were, after a long drive to Holyhead, lots of kit faff, dinner, and exciting boarding of the ferry, we were sitting on the boat looking at tidal planning for our first day on the water.

Obviously we had met prior to the trip and discussed planning, paddling and everything, but that was a while ago, when all of us were still distracted by our usual everyday lives. Finally we all had time to focus on the one thing, the same thing, our trip.

When we agreed to go to Ireland, I always thought of the circumnavigation as being started anti-clockwise. Zoe and Lindsey decided that clockwise was the right direction as most people do it that way, and moreover it apparently makes more sense. Finally we were on the ferry looking at the tides and working out if it would be better for us to start north of Dublin harbour and spent the few hours we would have left for paddling that afternoon to cross it to have it done and dusted, or should we start south of Dublin harbour and paddle for short distance south. As the data and information emerged, it became clear that if we go south that afternoon, the tides would be against us. I saw that as a sign and opportunity.

We arrived to Dublin, where we were met by Dave and Michael, who kindly agreed to come and pick us up to give us and our kayaks lift from the port to the water. They were interested which way we were starting, and were only slightly surprised when we said we did not know yet. So coffee followed. Michael then dropped the bombshell, he had circumnavigated Ireland anti clockwise, and had some good arguments why.

At one thirty on Tuesday afternoon we decided to go anti-clockwise. The next challenge was to leave Howth in the right or rather left direction.

DROPSEAT ADVENTURE 2019 – The story has begun

The long awaited day has finally come. It’s Monday 03.06.2019 and our team is travelling to Holyhead on Anglesey to take a ferry tomorrow to cross over to Ireland. After few months of scattered preparation we seem to be ready to go. 

We are aiming to circumnavigate Ireland by sea kayaks over the two months in June and July 2019. We called our journey Dropseat Adventure in recognition of the very specific nature of the drysuits we use as women. 

The hardest part of the preparations are done. All of us, Zoe Robinson – university professor in sustainability, Lindsey Harris – a nurse, Natalie Maderova – teacher of students with special needs, managed to get a leave from our works for 8 weeks. 

All of us have been kayaking for a while, so getting the kit together wasn’t such mission. However we are delighted that as a team we received support from Kokatat providing us with our drysuits, and Peak UK. We have all chosen boats that we are comfortable to paddle in. 

We decided to go to Ireland for few reasons: to keep our carbon footprint low, the coast is of reasonable length to be doable in the time scale we have, and it’s meant to be pretty.

Natalie’s now excited to go to Ireland as for her it is the third European island by size around which she will paddle. 

It terms of experience, it can be said that Lindsey it the least experienced of us when it comes to multi day paddling, long crossings, and expeditioning. She is involved with the King George and Queens Hospital Charity, which supports people undergoing major lower limb amputations. Following the procedure patients engage in long periods of rehabilitation and are often wheelchair dependent up until the time that they are ready for prosthetic limb fitting. Through our paddling we would like to raise money towards an upper limb bike – ergometer for our amputee patients. The upper limb bike will allow individuals to keep as active as possible on the ward and to help build their upper limb strength for the use of self propelled wheelchairs.

Lindsey’s fundraising page: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/lindsey-harris10

Natalie continues to support young people at Shadwell Basin and their access to adventure sports within the city. So if you liked any article and want to let me know, please, do it here: 

Seward

After paddling in the Kechamak Bay my next journey took me to Seward. First, the only reason to come here, was really to visit Christie, daughter-in-law of the captain of Bering Hunter, the tender that brought me to King Cove. It wasn’t his idea, but his son’s Mike, whom I met for all but 30 minutes, when he came to pick me up and drop me off to the ferry in King Cove. Maybe any other time I would not go and visit people I don’t know, but this trip was all about meeting, trusting and spending time with strangers.

The beginning of the trip to Seward was a bit shaky, straightforward journey finished 20 minutes out of Homer, when the coach run out of gas, and the driver called his mum to rescue. Fortunately, time was, what I had plenty on this trip, so it was just a matter of fact of waiting, eventually we reached Seward, and Christie did come and picked me up.

Seward is a small but very important town. It lies on the cruise ships’ route and as it has good links, both road and rail to Anchorage and other important places in Alaska, it gets very busy in the summer. Also unlike other places it kept a little bit of its historical buildings to create interesting enough high street, and calls itself a mural capital of the world.

It is a fishing town in a deep bay surrounded by glaciers. And it has a lot of paddling, too. I could not resist and rented a kayak for a day paddle that took me around Fox Island in the south part of a Resurrection Bay.

First I though that my journey took me to Seward to visit someone with connection to the Bering Sea fishermen of whom I would always think fondly, their work is not easy, their lifestyle hard. But really Seward kind of accomplishes the history tread that goes through my trip.

Alaska belonged to Russia before. Russian hunters and fur traders were discovering the area since 18 century establishing many trade centres along their path, influencing, not always kindly (like any others) the way native people lived. The orthodox religion is very visible on the peninsula, Russian geographic names are everywhere.

But Alaska is not Russian, it had become US state in January 1859. Quite a long time after it’s acquisition on October 18, 1867, it was purchased for 7.2 million dollars, and William Seward was the guy, who negotiated the deal. Why it was sold was up to discussion. In 1725 Vitus Bering started to explore the islands, and an important Russian trading company was established; when the Americans finally started to expand west in early 1800s, the competition started. By purchasing Alaska US gained important access to Pacific, by this time, following Crimean war, Russia might have lost interest in the region, which was expensive to keep control off due to its distance. Maybe Russia was hoping that US will gain more power in the Pacific region against an important rival of both, the British.

So here we go, the journey all makes sense now.

Kachemak Bay with a Greenhorn

Michal and I always marvelled at people going on trips, journeys and expeditions and making it unnecessarily complicated for themselves by bringing equipment that isn’t up to the job. Unsuitable clothing, too thin sleeping bags, tents that do not withstand winds, the list can just go on. Of course, we have had some experiences, when what we had with us turned out not to be as perfect as promised, but usually it could have been sorted just fine.

I have spent five days last week kayaking in the Kechamak Bay just on the other side of Homer. I packed all my expedition stuff, rented a funky red plastic kayak with rudder, and bought a tent, as we only had one on the peninsula, and it was Freya’s. I had a bit of a pause for thought when I saw its name: Greenhorn. Is that a good idea to rely on something called Greenhorn? Perhaps.

Water taxi took me across the bay and dropped me off in Jokolov Bay early in the afternoon, it was sunny and warm and I kind of just floated with the tide until it brought me to Kayak Beach, two hours into my first day I had enough and decided to spend sunny afternoon on the beach.

The campsite here had wooden platforms for tents, and food storage facilities to hide food away from bears.

I unpacked my tent hoping it’s a free standing one for the platform, although it had rings all around. I started to pitch it and the reality was slowly hitting me, the tent isn’t free standing, and what’s more, it didn’t have any guy ropes. I have five nights ahead of me, with a promise of rain for the following three days. The night wasn’t a peaceful night, I allowed myself to get worried of what if, when it would, and so on. The loud noise in the middle of the night sounding like a bear didn’t help. Then while I was packing it in the morning one of the tent pole holding strap ripped out, so now my tent also had a hole in one corner.

I spent most of next day paddling and worrying, looking up to the clouds and imagining the next night. Not really a good frame of mind, but fortunately the surroundings were too beautiful to allow me to keep going on like this all day. I found a place to camp for my second night. My tent was pitched on a landing of wooden stairs leading from the beach to a cabin, with an idea that bears don’t walk on stairs. I stayed on the beach to cook as the tent was too small for anything other that lying down. The rain started and I had to shelter under the bank covered by some thick leaves and branches. It was time to make a plan for the night. The missing strap was replaced by a stone inside, the tent was propped up by dry bags, I put on my water proofs deciding that if the tent gets wet through, and the sleeping bag, I may actually stay dry.

No bears that night, it was calm and quiet despite the rain, and surprisingly comfortable and warm. I woke up in the morning, it was still raining, and I had to make a plan of how to keep everything as dry as possible, especially when packing without a shelter. Waking up in waterproofs proved to be smart idea, I just rolled out and was ready. Again, the branches and leaves helped. It actually went ok, and while I sat there having breakfast wearing my dry suit watching the rain I started to enjoy it. Who cares that my tent is not cut for the game, I am. Going on trips having good equipment is easy, making it work with bad stuff is a skill, or fun.

Tutka Bay was beautiful that morning, sea eagles and otters for company. I paddled all day until Halibut Cove, a very interesting place of many rather eccentric looking houses. However there was nowhere to camp, all private property around here. The last three kilometres crossing was a bit of a hard work into the force five headwind. The day was exciting, and there and now I fondly thought about my little Greenhorn tent. Yeah! I couldn’t wait for the next adventure that will await us during the night.

I landed on The Right Beach, and luckily there were people here. A family of grandparents, parents, an uncle, a teenager, and two little girls. Fantastic, I don’t need to camp alone. Some of them stayed in tent, the rest in a rented yurt. I was offered food, wine, berries. I pitched my tent closer to them as the bear presence was everywhere here. So glad Greenhorn and I weren’t alone.

They all marvelled at the size of it. And were well impressed when just before rolling into it, I put my waterproof pyjama on.

The following day, Sunday, was the forecasted very rainy one. The family was packing to go home, but before they left, they said they hired the yurt for two nights, only using it for one. And offered it to me. So I acquired a yurt for 24 hours, marvellous. I only paddled a little bit that day as it was raining, and windy, the yurt proved great set up for book reading.

Many people come to Kechamak Bay to hike to the various glaciers that are up in the mountains. On Monday I first paddled to Halibut lagoon, where entry is so narrow that it’s only accessible with the right tidal flow. It was early morning all was still but the rain, and the lagoon became a playground for porpoises.

After that, I went to a place called Saddle. It’s a start of a very popular hike, so I figured out there might not be bears on the trail and I can do it by myself without bear spray and all. No bears just their poohs. I reached the Grewingk lake. There were sightings of sow and cubs during the week, but I was lucky to meet few people there. One couple invited me to walk back with them, so I didn’t need to sing and shout all the way back.

I camped on the same beach as before. Pitched my Greenhorn, last time tonight. However, I was hoping for some other people to come here to not be alone. My plan B was, if I had to be alone, and the yurt empty, I would sneak in there. I stayed out on a beach for a while, and when it was finally time to go in, I’ve been inside a yurt for about 30 minutes when I heard him. A black bear was walking around, putting his head to the door, then sniffing by the window. I couldn’t take any photos as I was very close to hiding under the bed. So that’s me done with going outside until the morning.

Last day, and my water taxi pick up was arranged for just after midday about 2 hours paddle away from here. I left early, and spent some time floating around the Gull Rock watching out for puffins.