With an ominous name like False Pass, one can only wonder what type of trepidation awaits us. False Pass is only accessible three months of the year because of ice. Many fisherman use it as a short cut between the Bering Sea and the Pacific Gulf of Alaska. It’s also notoriously very shallow and must be navigated during a rising tide. We estimated our arrival from King Cove with shifty winds would take about 5 hours.
The currents through here push every which way and looking back at the nav chart it’s amazing how skinny and small the channel looks, but when you’re out on the water, the scale is much larger! I was fairly excited for this part of our journey. It meant we were finally turning north and I have not had to navigate something this tricky before. I had expected that by now I would’ve spent the entire trip wet and cold, and there was the adventure side of me that felt like this trip was too easy so far (type 2 fun people are nuts I know).
Adventure we did – with 25-30 knots blowing behind us, swirly currents and sea otters around us, Al took over the helm (that’s when you know it’s getting real), Rocky, Stacie and I standing behind Al looking for channel markers, and Charlie watching the depth finder and checking the charts. At one point, we saw our speed over ground reach 13.5. I wonder how much of that was current and how much of it was wind.
The channel markers were so far apart, you could hardly see the next set as you approached one. It was a fairly clear day, it’s hard to imagine what it would be like to navigate in the fog. Later on I learned an acquaintance of mine who had been through false pass 30 years earlier, said they were nearly hitting the buoys as they came up because of the low visibility and fog.
Shishaldin Volcano was to the west of us and looked like it was erupting, and we think it is still spewing after it’s eruption last year. We watched a couple fishboats smash their way upwind and honked as they passed by, I imagined whoever the skipper was inside was having a blast. Or maybe not.
Charlie watched as the depth finder read some areas down 13 feet and then – the readings stopped. Just about a quarter of the channel remaining without a working depth finder, we motored on.
We nearly missed the last set of markers that were set much more perpendicular than the previous ones, but we recovered just in time, turned up the throttle to combat the sideways wind and once they were cleared, we celebrated. No hitting sandbars for us!
“Welcome to the Bering Sea!” – Al triumphantly announced.
Nunivak Island
The next couple of days felt like champagne sailing. With a nice southeasterly wind behind us, we were cruising consistently between 7-9 knots. I watched it get up to 10 (whee!) and Al would come up from below and ask me if I was trying to race. The answer is always yes.
The weather was finally clear enough and my watch went from being 1-4am to 10pm-1am so I was finally able to catch a midnight sunset! The first night, while the sun was still setting, we watched the full moonrise behind us. What a way to enter the Bering Sea with a Buck Moon rising! One of those times the a phone photo wouldn’t do it, and I wasn’t confident the motion of the ocean would set me up for a good enough exposure to capture it. So instead, I just got to enjoy it.
Since we were making good time, and the wind was forecasted to die, we decided to make a stop over at Nunivak Island on our third day. We found ourselves on the north side of the island, and a fairly shallow and protected area called Nash Harbor.
We anchored around 11pm, and the water could not have been more inviting. I went for another swim, surprised at how (relatively) warm the water was. It felt like another summer day in the Puget Sound and I could have swam forever. Alas, everyone else was going to sleep, and one should not be off the boat without someone else to watch over, even in pristine glassy water.
I crawled into my bunk, sleeping bag warmed from the heat of the engine room, and it felt like falling asleep in a big pile of warm laundry.
The next day, Stacie put together the folding kayak, and paddled to her heart’s content while the boys got the tender in the water. We finally get to see Dogbark anchored from the water!
Walking and stretching your legs is such a gift after a few days hunkered in on a boat. We didn’t find an musk ox, but we did find some amazing treasures left behind from furry friends!
The closer we got to Nome, I could feel a dread. It meant we were closer to having to say goodbye to departing crew members, and it also meant my time on the boat was nearly coming to an end. I feel like we were just getting into a groove and Dogbark really feels like home.
But that’s the thing about sailing, it teaches you how to be present and get outside of your head. We arrived to Nome around midnight, luckily having found our portable depth finder to navigate the 12 ft of harbor we were entering (we draw 10).
Before we had to say goodbye to Stacie, Rocky and Charlie, we had a good couple of days exploring the local Nome haunts. We found musk ox, visited the local dive bars, made new friends in the harbor who are also doing the NW Passage, and even took over a dance floor one night.
Plus, after weeks of hearing short tid bits about Graeme, I was eager to finally meet this mysterious owner. We have many mutual friends from Bainbridge Island but have never crossed paths ourselves.
Who is this mysterious Graeme?
We’ll be following you on this wonderful adventure. I can’y imagine swiming in the salt water so far north.
Cannot believe it was November, 2018 when I bought your darling book at a garage sale from a lovely woman who was cashing it all in, selling her home to spend her twilight years on a damned boat with her husband. Have to say, from someone who is only good for 2 days, 3 at the outside, in a 21 foot trailer, there is no one on this earth that I love that much. I MUST have my own bedroom and there is no room on a boat for my library.
After THE BOOK made its journey through my sisters, it was returned to me. I then made the mistake of loaning it to my son , age 38 who lived in Seattle and a huge fan if everything WATER. He actually built his first boat with his own hands, in a borrowed garage that he had to Reno so it would not leak. The garage, that is. THE BOOK is now residing in Auckland, New Zealand where he and his family, wife and 5 year old son, are adventuring for 2 years. I will wait for their return to demand he give it back.
I was delighted to see 2 emails from dogbark, been a loooong time since I received an update from you. I thought perhaps , in an effort to salvage your marriage, you had become landlubbers.
It is good to know that all is well!