Oct 1988 Travel in the Kodiak Archipelago - First Week

Working the job in an uncomfortable environment

After that first night’s uncomfortable sleep we started our work at first light. Sore and unrested. The floor’s incline toward the creek more cumbersome than expected and the padding protecting us from protrusions under the tent not nearly thick enough, surfaced roots dug into the small of my back. But I slept some. The same was could not be told of the other two.

 We went over the plan, where to measure, which plots to complete. Once the assignment parsed we set off to work. Our day, third week of October, still ten hours long would give us plenty of time to complete most of the work required in the two weeks. Given we can get comfortable in the tent.
The fall skies were a constant overcast, giving way to blue skies only for the briefest days. But that first week misting rain began to fall on us, unnoticed at first. We continued our work without interruptions. My job was to hike toward distant hills as directed and hold a reflector rod for Jim to take distance measurements eyed through a telescope looking theodolite.  
“Stand aft, fore, a bit to the left, a bit to the right, just a bit more to the right.”
“I can’t! There is a cliff!”
Typical chatter through our walkie-talkies.
 Harry in turn verified and records the readings and once satisfied we place stakes in the ground, markers to indicate a measured lot.
On our fourth day mist gives way to rain and a mild pour starts becoming annoying. By then end we have accomplish quite a bit. We wait out the day hoping for better weather.
We sit in a tarped area, eat a moderate supper and continue with discussions of the progress so far sitting at the campfire struggling to stay lit. None of us eager to go to bed, unencumbered sleep a distant memory, but eventually we do.
The rain has not abated. By next dawn it is a now a steady downpour. We spend more time trying to keep sensitive equipment dry than our personal baggage. Thinking storing them in the small tent when unoccupied would keep them dry we later find that this was not the case. The nylon material of the tent starts seeping water over top and running water from higher ground toward the adjacent creek creeps in around the tarp below, our inclined position cursing us again. By week’s end we had no dry clothing to change to and no way to dry them. Damp wood makes a fire difficult to light. We are miserably drenched, our moods sour.
Rumblings between Jim and Harry about breaking into the cabin begin. More Harry but Jim complies. I abstain. In my naïve sense of justice I argue that we were told no entry and so we must comply. They know I am right and begrudgingly agree. We suffer another wet day.
The work becomes tedious in the following days. Some mistakes made so re-measurements double the load. On one such recalculation I am been sent back to the shore camp to pick up some materials. I welcome the assignment because I know that I can get out of the rain, albeit briefly, sitting in the igloo. Never thinking to bring sodden clothes to hang to dry in the igloos at that time is my one regret, damn my lack of forethought. But I do rest a bit when I arrive before packing the requested materials. It was so nice to stretch out in solitude in that enclosure and out of the rain. I assume work ceases until I return from this five hour round. I must get back.
I get ready for my return and as I leave the igloo I eye the abandoned Rokon motorcycle. It is a shame it is broken, it would make this transport of materials so much easier.
On the return trip I encounter wildlife. Up to this point I notice them in the distance but none close enough to interact. I once drew my shotgun at a family of bears thinking they were traveling in my direction but they veered off long before arriving at my location. Now, as I carried the heavy load back to the work site I heard scurrying behind me. Every few step I would hear this and as I stopped to turn and investigate. I would see nothing, maybe my vivid imagination I think but a few more steps more and more commotion behind me has me reconsidering.
Finally I see them. Two fox cubs have been trailing me since the lagoon. Keeping a safe distance of a few feet they were curious as to what I was doing or going. When I stop they stop, hide in the brush and spy on me through branches. When I started they would embolden and continue the chase.
I toy with them for a bit and then try to initiate contact but they do not trust and never approach any closer. I stop for a snack, the haul taking its toll on me I must resupply. I cut up an orange and toss them wedges. They scurry but shortly return, sniff at them suspiciously and as soon enough, as I turn away, they drag them into the bush and eat all but the rind.
Satisfied with my meal and theirs I continue on the way, noticing them behind me for some time but eventually I must have bored them because they disappeared as soon as they appeared.
Cleaver creatures. The encounter brightens my mood.
Still gleeful with the experience I arrive at the camp to find Jim and Harry sitting on logs waiting for me. The atmosphere is dreary, with the sun descending I stash the purchase under the tarp and we call it a day.