Young Larry Blog - a continuation of Dermot's account of Young Larry's transit of the Northwest Passage. We hope to up-date the blog at least once a week.


23rd September 2010

The low point of our trip from Barrow to Nome was on 15th September when we made little headway against strong southerly winds. Shortly afterwards however, the wind moderated enough for us to motor south, it continued to decline and veered to the east which gave us a fair wind for motor-sailing to the Bering Straits. The Alaskan headland at the Bering Straits is called "Cape Prince of Wales" and it forms a tidal gate. We struggled to motor against 4 knots of current so altered course close in-shore. Here we followed the 7m contour around the Cape where the contrary current reduced to 1 knot.

Once around Cape Prince of Wales, we were able to make for Nome some 75 miles to the southeast. Late in the evening of the 18th September, we entered Nome, berthed alongside, cleared customs and did what everybody seems to do in Nome: hit the bars and drink! Our first food and drink ashore for many months. Bars close at 3 am. The next morning we started work on a fairly typical "to do list": re-fuel, gas, oil change, stores, laundry, repairs and maintenance. All this took a couple of days and left us a little time for sightseeing.
Nome is so called because sometime between 1845 and 1851 two Royal Navy ships, the Plover and the Herald, were searching for the lost Franklin expedition in the area. One of the navigation officers wrote on chart number 1853 "? Name" against the unnamed Cape. This was later interpreted by the Admiralty as C. Nome and the name has stuck. The town became famous in 1898 when "the three lucky Swedes" discovered gold in the area. This triggered a huge gold rush and the following year over 20,000 people descended on the town. Many of the gold miners lived in tents on the beach but they attracted stores, bars, liquor stores, and prostitutes who built up the town. The mining is still going on today as are many of the support services. It has a real "wild west" feel to it.
Another yacht, Precipice, was moored in town. She is based upon a bristol pilot cutter and has been there since last year when her owners, Deb, Roland and their two girls Janelle and Bianca completed the northwest passage. Deb and Roland now have jobs in the area and the girls are attending the local school. They might be buying a house in Nome this winter. Deb and the girls came on board for supper and drove us around town in their beaten up old mini-bus. They also drove us to the gas station where we filled up our 25 22l jerry cans at the diesel pump. The main fuel tank on the boat was filled up earlier that day by the local suppliers, Crawley Marine. They wouldn't fill up the jerry cans because of health, safety and environmental reasons: it seems as if we are returning to "civilisation"!

Sibéal's task was to do the laundry. At other stops, we've had to do this in a nearby stream but, in Nome, the "launderette" doubles as a bar! At about 11 pm, I thought I would see how she was getting on. The laundry was done and she had met a really nice Eskimo man called Arty. Arty is a gold miner and subsistence hunter. His right hand, knee and foot were badly damaged by frost bite when he was caught out in the wild as a teenager. This certainly has not stopped him leading a very exciting life and we now have an invitation to go gold panning and bear hunting the next time we're in town!

Yesterday, we left town at midday and set off into a building easterly breeze - perfect for our passage. We now have two reefs in the mainsail and are romping along at 7 knots in warm sun-shine. Our destination is Kodiak Island where we plan to lay-up the boat for the winter before returning home. It is a trip of about 1,200 miles. I had thought it might take three or four weeks but if we can keep up this speed, we'll be there in little more than a week's time.

We have escaped Nome with a none of us succumbing to gold fever or alcoholism. We have a fair wind, plenty of fresh food, warmth for the first time in many months and life is good.

The picture shows an abandoned gold mining dredge.

Young Larry Blog - a continuation of Dermot's account of Young Larry's transit of the Northwest Passage. We hope to up-date the blog at least once a week.


23rd September 2010

The low point of our trip from Barrow to Nome was on 15th September when we made little headway against strong southerly winds. Shortly afterwards however, the wind moderated enough for us to motor south, it continued to decline and veered to the east which gave us a fair wind for motor-sailing to the Bering Straits. The Alaskan headland at the Bering Straits is called "Cape Prince of Wales" and it forms a tidal gate. We struggled to motor against 4 knots of current so altered course close in-shore. Here we followed the 7m contour around the Cape where the contrary current reduced to 1 knot.

Once around Cape Prince of Wales, we were able to make for Nome some 75 miles to the southeast. Late in the evening of the 18th September, we entered Nome, berthed alongside, cleared customs and did what everybody seems to do in Nome: hit the bars and drink! Our first food and drink ashore for many months. Bars close at 3 am. The next morning we started work on a fairly typical "to do list": re-fuel, gas, oil change, stores, laundry, repairs and maintenance. All this took a couple of days and left us a little time for sightseeing.
Nome is so called because sometime between 1845 and 1851 two Royal Navy ships, the Plover and the Herald, were searching for the lost Franklin expedition in the area. One of the navigation officers wrote on chart number 1853 "? Name" against the unnamed Cape. This was later interpreted by the Admiralty as C. Nome and the name has stuck. The town became famous in 1898 when "the three lucky Swedes" discovered gold in the area. This triggered a huge gold rush and the following year over 20,000 people descended on the town. Many of the gold miners lived in tents on the beach but they attracted stores, bars, liquor stores, and prostitutes who built up the town. The mining is still going on today as are many of the support services. It has a real "wild west" feel to it.
Another yacht, Precipice, was moored in town. She is based upon a bristol pilot cutter and has been there since last year when her owners, Deb, Roland and their two girls Janelle and Bianca completed the northwest passage. Deb and Roland now have jobs in the area and the girls are attending the local school. They might be buying a house in Nome this winter. Deb and the girls came on board for supper and drove us around town in their beaten up old mini-bus. They also drove us to the gas station where we filled up our 25 22l jerry cans at the diesel pump. The main fuel tank on the boat was filled up earlier that day by the local suppliers, Crawley Marine. They wouldn't fill up the jerry cans because of health, safety and environmental reasons: it seems as if we are returning to "civilisation"!

Sibéal's task was to do the laundry. At other stops, we've had to do this in a nearby stream but, in Nome, the "launderette" doubles as a bar! At about 11 pm, I thought I would see how she was getting on. The laundry was done and she had met a really nice Eskimo man called Arty. Arty is a gold miner and subsistence hunter. His right hand, knee and foot were badly damaged by frost bite when he was caught out in the wild as a teenager. This certainly has not stopped him leading a very exciting life and we now have an invitation to go gold panning and bear hunting the next time we're in town!

Yesterday, we left town at midday and set off into a building easterly breeze - perfect for our passage. We now have two reefs in the mainsail and are romping along at 7 knots in warm sun-shine. Our destination is Kodiak Island where we plan to lay-up the boat for the winter before returning home. It is a trip of about 1,200 miles. I had thought it might take three or four weeks but if we can keep up this speed, we'll be there in little more than a week's time.

We have escaped Nome with a none of us succumbing to gold fever or alcoholism. We have a fair wind, plenty of fresh food, warmth for the first time in many months and life is good.

The picture shows an abandoned gold mining dredge.

Young Larry Blog - a continuation of Dermot's account of Young Larry 's transit of the Northwest Passage. We hope to up-date the blog at least once a week.

Sadly, Dermot had to leave us and, as it was clearly going to take too long to sail to Nome, it was decided that he should fly home from Barrow; the USA's most northern point. Two things worried me about the entrance to Barrow: firstly it was not an official port of entry to the USA and we had to decide whether or not to "go by the book" which might mean a delay and possible expense if the US Customs decided that they needed to fly an official to Barrow. Alternatively, we could land Dermot as an illegal alien at the dead of night and hope that our crime went undetected. One of our pilot books warned that any transgression of the rules could result in the boat being confiscated and the crew paying heavy fines. I also had visions of spending a few months in an orange jump suit. Our second concern was that the weather forecasts were indicating winds of up to 30 kts and the "anchorage" at Barrow was nothing more than an exposed beach. Anchoring or launching a dinghy could be impossible - a bit like trying to land near Portland Bill in a near gale. A conference was held on board to discuss the various scenarios.

We decided to contact the US Customs who, once we had got hold of the right person, were very understanding and fair: Dermot had to register with the Customs on his way through Anchorage and, as far as I know, he isn't wearing an orange suit yet. The American weather was equally kind to us and we arrived off Barrow beach at 2 am in a calm before the storm.

M�ire stood offshore in Young Larry whilst Dermot and I took the rubber dinghy ashore. Before leaving, M�ire insisted on fortifying us with a wee dram and a special good-bye song she had composed to lament Dermot's departure from the world of Young Larry . The dinghy trip off a deserted beach at the dead of night felt exciting. Young Larry's old gaff rig was lit by her navigation lights and we had left the mainsail up. She looked like an old smuggling ship going about her business.

Very soon after arriving back on board and recovering the dinghy, the promised wind arrived and we decided to double reef the mainsail. A rig we kept for four days. We soon had strong southerly winds which enabled us to sail, close hauled for three days, three hundred miles along the coast to within 5 miles of the Russian border. Here we stopped. We were not sure how the Russians viewed foreign yachts sailing into their waters and, besides, we now wanted to sail south, dead to windward. M�ire had a notion that the food in Russian jails was quite delicious; a theory based on three weeks she once spent on a Russian sail training ship. Sib�al and I weren't so sure and Sib�al had read some disturbing accounts of Siberian jails: it seems that some very influential people had stayed there in the past but it wasn't considered to be comfortable. We tacked back to the east and the land of the free: better the devil you know? The next day was pretty miserable, tacking between 169 degrees west and the west coast of Alaska. The contrary current is stronger nearer the American coast. We covered just 35 miles in 24 hours and I wondered what Sarah Palin would be making of us if she saw us through her kitchen window.

On the evening of 15th September, we were still hanging around the Russian border waiting for a promised southwesterly wind to arrive which would give a better slant sailing south to the Bering Straits. The southwesterly did not materialise but the southerly wind did moderate enough for us to sail directly into it with head sails furled at about 3 knots.

Every day I have been calculating the fuel we have on board and whether or not it will be enough to get us to Nome. The answer is that it depends on the wind and sea conditions. If things stay as they are, we will probably just make it. At the moment though, its too close to call to allow us to light the heating stove so its quite cold.

We miss Dermot but we are now established in our watch-keeping routine of three hours "on", six "off" which gives us plenty of sleeping time. The windward sailing has made the boat, and us, pretty damp. The fresh food we bought in Tuktoyatuk ran out some time ago and we're also being conservative with our cooking propane which is in limited supply. Nome with it's diesel, fresh food, propane, restaurants, bars and, not least, launderette facilities beckons but, in the meantime, we are quite happy with our life sailing on the edge of the western world!

Ashore in Barrow- farewell and bon voyage to Young Larry

A lot has happened and happened fast. This will be a brief post as I have no charger for my laptop and the battery will probably die soon.

Yesterday we had a team pow-wow on some of our options. The two main issues were dropping me off somewhere safely and then how to deal with the customs.

With regard to the first issue, it was at the time reasonably light winds and we were about 6 hours from Barrow. Really we couldn't make any decision until we go there and assessed the situation. There were some fall-back options (for both me and the onward passage of Young Larry) though none of them were attractive. We could have tried contacting someone ashore to try and pick meup if the weather was too bad for a rubber dinghy for example. There were also other potential drop off points 12and 50 miles away though it wasn't certain how I might get from these to Barrow!

With regard to the customs we decided to be honest. We all have American visas because you can't use the Visa Waiver scheme unless you arrive on a scheduled plane. Andrew made a succession of expensive satellite calls to immigration in Anchorage then Nome, then Anchorage, the Nome and finally Fairbanks. Eventually he found an officer there who understood the situation. We have agreed that it is OK for me to present myself to immigration in Anchorage when I get there.

Before arriving at Barrow, you are asked to check in the locals to make sure that you don't interfere with their subsistence whaling. We could hear a lot of chatter from them on the VHF radio. We did this, and at the same time happened to see two bow-head whales- their prey. I fully support the rights of indigenous arctic peoples to catch limited quantities of whales. None us however wanted to participate and say "over heeerre" and actually contribute to the whales' demise!

The last miles to Barrow took ages and we didn't get there until 1am. It was calm and although it was dark it was safe to land now, but might not remain that way. We could feel the wind starting to stir. We made a decision to land me and all my bags. We had a tiny tot each of the remaining drops or whisky. We said our sad goodbyes and Andrew dropped me on the beach and disappeared back on board.

They are going to continue west. There is a bolt hole bout 50 miles away they can sit things out if necessary.

Meanwhile I amazingly managed to find me a taxi to take me to the "Top of the World Hotel". It was raining and I was in my wellies and yellow/blue survival/flotation suit, checking in at 2am another first that I have experienced on this trip.

Battery almost dead so I must go. There is so much I want to say when i have a chance to collect my thoughts.

Most of all I must thank Andrew, Maire, Sibeal and Young Larry for the most amazing adventure and journey. It has been a privilege.

I am keen to get home but also feel bad leaving them with still a long way to go at the end of the season. All the very best.

PS They may post some updates here but for the next 600 miles they are in a satellite and internet black hole.

We are making very good progress. Motoring-sailing, with a light SE wind from behind us to push us along to Barrow at a respectable 6 knots. At the current rate of progress we should get there about midnight or soon after.

It all then becomes a matter of if I can get off safely. Obviously if it stays like this I could. This morning╒s forecast is pretty similar to last night╒s. 25-knot winds rather than 30-knots but still in an onshore direction. I suppose it all depends upon when the change happens.

All in all makes us all a little nervous. Me, because I have to get off. Also however, Andre, Maire and Sibeal will have to deal with whatever winds are sent their way. At the moment it is looking pretty unpleasant heading towards the Bering Strait with headwinds forecast. The trouble is that it is coming to the end of the season and there is a limit to how long a boat can hang around waiting for better winds. Not only that, but on this coast there aren╒t really any decent ports of refuge where one could wait, even if you chose to.

I do feel bad at having to leave them, but I have no choice. Losing a quarter of the crew strength will impose a bigger burden on those remaining.

We did come across a very short band of ice, exactly where he Canadians had forecast and Andrew had plotted on the chart. Nothing to trouble us though.

As well as the potential difficulties in getting me ashore, we also have to negotiate with the US Customs and Immigration people to allow me to enter the country. Barrow is not an official port of entry. We are thinking about how best to approach this issue. The original plan was for us all enter the country in Nome but I now have to leave the boat in Barrow. One apparently can pay for a customs person to make a special trip from Fairbanks but that seems a little excessive.

We are making very good progress. Motoring-sailing, with a light SE wind from behind us to push us along to Barrow at a respectable 6 knots. At the current rate of progress we should get there about midnight or soon after.

It all then becomes a matter of if I can get off safely. Obviously if it stays like this I could. This morning╒s forecast is pretty similar to last night╒s. 25-knot winds rather than 30-knots but still in an onshore direction. I suppose it all depends upon when the change happens.

All in all makes us all a little nervous. Me, because I have to get off. Also however, Andre, Maire and Sibeal will have to deal with whatever winds are sent their way. At the moment it is looking pretty unpleasant heading towards the Bering Strait with headwinds forecast. The trouble is that it is coming to the end of the season and there is a limit to how long a boat can hang around waiting for better winds. Not only that, but on this coast there aren╒t really any decent ports of refuge where one could wait, even if you chose to.

I do feel bad at having to leave them, but I have no choice. Losing a quarter of the crew strength will impose a bigger burden on those remaining.

We did come across a very short band of ice, exactly where he Canadians had forecast and Andrew had plotted on the chart. Nothing to trouble us though.

As well as the potential difficulties in getting me ashore, we also have to negotiate with the US Customs and Immigration people to allow me to enter the country. Barrow is not an official port of entry. We are thinking about how best to approach this issue. The original plan was for us all enter the country in Nome but I now have to leave the boat in Barrow. One apparently can pay for a customs person to make a special trip from Fairbanks but that seems a little excessive.