INCIDENTS OF My TRAVELS to
UNEXPECTED PLACES
NEVER SEEKING ADVENTURE YET ADVENTURE FINDS ME
With all work complete at Ugak bay it was time to consider our next step... A month in field already and our November days are brief and cold. It has been two weeks since the last sighting of Harry’s Piper Cub plane, and we have complete all our work at our current location. Harry left instructions that we should pack up all gear and move to Eagle Bay to a location called Fallen Rock Cove, an inlet south of our current location. This was the site of a couple more survey contracts acquired. At first we were a bit hesitant to undertake this chore. A large mountainous range separating us from the destination made overland travel impossible, even with the aid of the Rokon trail breaker motorcycle-if we repaired it yet again. Our only option was a water route. That meant taking the 20ft skiff, loaded with the equipment and venturing out of the safety of our lagoon onto the open waters of the Pacific waters.
By now the days were noticeably short. By December’s solstice we will reach four hours of daylight and twenty of night. So delaying the chore meant losing daylight on a daily basis and this endeavor will be taking the better part of a day to complete. So we discussed this option on one of our down days. “We don’t need to do this Jim. Harry isn’t even coming back.” “Now, Gil. I got to believe that he is just delayed,” Jim says trying to stay optimistic still. “So I say we rest up today and git a move on in the morning.” We discussed a bit more and I relented. He made a point. Harry owed us quite a bit of money now with the additional weeks of work. Any break in the agreement would give him fuel to deny payment. That evening we prepared the skiff for an early launch the next day. Loading the first of what was to be multiple runs. We calculated one run per day allowable. All the survey equipment, along with the motor bike and other non-essentials. We would continue the run the following day with supplies and eventually the tent on a final run. We were meant to uproot and move on to the next site. The final run nagged at me. Something permanent about it that if Harry does not return for us no one would know where to find us. I kept that doubt to myself for the time being. But I was sure Jim was battling the same demon. We continued as planned. That night was a windy one, ocean winds rattled the tent as it flowed over the sandy break wall separating our open field from the beach. Cold set in and we retired into our sleeping bags and passed out into the bitter night under the reddish glow of our overstuffed stove. We woke to a squall blowing in off the shore. At first we only noticed the heavy rain but walking over the break wall we were met with heavy winds and overcast skies. So obviously the trip was on hold for that day. And for the next couple of days as well, instead we struggled from keeping ourselves, and more importantly our firewood, dry. Not much occurring within the tent for the day except reading an already read book. So bored we couldn’t even find conversation topics to keep ourselves occupied. By the third day the storm abates and conditions turn favorable. Looking out over the open water that morning we saw the choppy whiteheads at a distance. Debating this we figure that they may not be as dangerous as they appeared.
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About the Author
I have always ended up in unexpected places. So I present a collection of my tales told over the years. Places that due to circumstances I might never go on my own accord. Categories
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February 2022
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