Part 1: Days 1-3, Part 2: Day 4
Day 5: And I thought day 3 was rainy…
Except for the exceptions (the moment of hypothermia followed by mild emotional breakdown), day 4 was pretty great. It was a long day, but the weather had been good and we only had soft rain on occasion during the day. Day 5 made up for it times 10. Day 5 decided to show day 3 what a rainy day really looks like in Southeast Alaska!
We woke up to the steady thumping of drops on the tent. I got up feeling no small amount of dread about leaving our warm dry tent. What did surprise me was how great my arms felt. It was the first day since we began paddling that I could lift them without them feeling like 50 pound sand bags! They actually felt…good?! What is this miracle? I totally expected that the super long paddle day would mean the worst arms ever…but I guess my body finally got the hang of all this. Or maybe my arms just gave up asking for mercy and decided to suck it up.
I sat on my mat, wrapped in my sleeping bag, and contemplated the dilemma of the day ahead. I had very limited dry clothing options since my clothes from the day before were all damp. The hypothermia experience and the current heavy rain on the tent made we want to be sure to layer up. I really didn’t want to spend another day feeling cold. The only dry pants I had left were my thermals, 1 pair of thin nylon hiking pants, and my sweatpants. I decided to wear my thermal pants that I usually slept in as my warm underlayer, my 1 pair of dry hiking pants and then my still-damp rain pants on top. What troubled me most was that it would only leave one dry thing, my sweatpants, for sleeping. If my clothes were wet at the end of the day, I would have nothing dry left to wear for the last day of paddling.
I got dressed and performed the acrobatics of getting on wet rain gear over dry clothes in the rain while trying to keep those clothes dry and trying not to get too much rain in the tent. After a quick squat in the bushes, I headed towards the beach nearby and our kitchen area. I was shocked to find a large iceberg sitting on our beach. It had come for a visit the night before while we were all in bed. It was then that I remembered hearing a loud sound outside the tent, like several rocks falling and banging together. I had wondered what the sound was, thought maybe the bear was doing something, and then just drifted off to sleep. I guess that big rock-grinding noise had been the iceberg hitting our little beach. I stood in the rain and watched the drips of melting water from the berg, marveling at the wonder of this place and wishing the rain would let up.
Our guides got up a short time later, set up a tarp over the kitchen area, and began to make coffee. I made my way over and sat under the tarp to get a little relief from the rain. Bastien wandered down the other way to the mudflats and came back with news. He found fresh bear tracks in the mud and a large area where it looks like the bear slept…not too far from our camp. Wow, where else can a brown bear sleep and an iceberg beach itself all within 50 yards of where you sleep?
Once coffee and breakfast were done, it was time to go back into the rain to break camp and load up. I had just stripped off my rain gear and hopped back into the tent to pack my mat and sleeping bag, when our guide came over with some bad news. That bear had just been seen on the beach even closer to our camp, heading up into the bushes in a way that looked like he might be thinking about coming around behind us and popping out for a little up-close-and-personal visit. Our guide said we needed to beat feat and try to pack fast so we could get the hell out of there before the bear decided to say hello.
We began to hustle to break down the camp, move everything to the beach and load the kayaks. Unfortunately, even though I had already done my “dirty business” that morning, I suddenly felt the very unwelcome rumble of bubble guts. Oh, no! Not NOW! I tried to ignore it, but the belly-bubbling continued and escalated, and I realized the poo-poo percolator was going to blow whether I wanted it to or not. I told our guide I needed to make a stop in the rocks, and I apologized to everyone for bailing during the group effort to move and load 4 large kayaks…but I had to go. When I headed in the direction of what had become “my spot” (a nice little spot around the corner between two large rocks where I could squat and lean back against the rocks in a pretty comfy poo-poo position) the guide stopped me. That’s where the bear went into the bushes. I needed to go to other way, back towards where the kitchen setup had been. I went as far down as the little beach would let me go before wading in water, and sought the biggest rock I could find, hoping for “privacy”. Unfortunately, I was no more than 100 feet from where our guide was packing up the kitchen area and the rock was only big enough to hide me from the shoulders down, only when squatting. He made a point not to look over while I dropped my pants and assumed the position. While there, I could easily look over and see him working, and he could see me from the shoulders up. So much for privacy. The worst part was that I am pretty sure he was within “hearing distance” and it was a pretty noisy affair. We both tried to pretend this wasn’t happening and we didn’t make eye contact when I walked back by him after I was finished.
Despite the “incident”, we managed to get the kayaks loaded and into the water without a bear encounter (unless you count my butt-bear). We paddled for a long time and the rain never let up on us. It wasn’t fun, and we all tried to keep a positive attitude, but eventually everyone looked pretty miserable. We did have some amazing moments during the day. We had several moments where Humpback whales came up for air nearby, occasionally showing us their tails when they dove. Once, a whale came up for air right in front of our kayak, so close that I actually saw the blowhole open and we caught the waves. I have to say that was pretty exciting. Another moment was when Bastien noticed what looked like moose antlers up on the beach in a little cove. We paddled over and the guide said we could get out to get a closer look. Not only was it moose antlers, it was the entire top half of a moose skull. The lower jaw was missing but it was otherwise intact, it even still had the upper teeth! We spent time examining the skull in total fascination and awe. We also found one vertebrae not far away that looked like it had some fresh tendons still clinging to the bone. The rest of the skull was clean and bleached white. After we finished our in-depth skull observations, we discussed having lunch. No one was really hungry, so we skipped lunch and headed back out for more paddling.
As the day grew late, our guide paused in front of a nice beach and said we needed to discuss the options. It had been a long, rainy day and everyone was tired, wet, and cold. We had another hour of paddling to get to the planned camp spot or we could stop here and camp for the night. There was nowhere to stop in between, so we needed to decide here. I was not about to say I wanted to stop, not after last time. I said, “I can go either way”, most others said the same, and one person said they wanted to push on. So, push on we did. Except, about 20 minutes later, as we rounded a point, our guide realized we were not quite where he had thought. We would have at least 2 more hours of paddling if we continued to the planned camp spot. He gave a long pause, clearly weighing the situation. I saw him discreetly check the group, looking for how we were really doing. Then, he made the hard decision to turn back and camp at the little beach we had passed.
It was the right call for sure. I knew I was getting dangerously cold and tired, despite my additional layers. Every time I moved my legs around to reposition in the kayak, I felt like someone shoved an icepack under my thighs and butt. I wasn’t sure why I was getting so much direct contact with the cold water, but it was undoubtedly unpleasant. When we pulled into the beach and got out of the kayaks, I saw another person shivering. Their whole body was shivering almost as bad as I had been the day before in front of the glacier. Everyone looked rough. Our guide immediately told all of us to go and quickly set up our tents, get inside, change into dry clothes, and warm up. We all did as told, eager to get dry and warm. Our guides, though, set up the kitchen and began making dinner for us. They didn’t even change into dry clothes, just went right to work on feeding the rest of us a hot meal.
I hadn’t realized why I was so cold, after all, I had worn extra layers that day. When I took off all those layers, I understood the reality. Every layer was SOAKED. Not damp, not just wet…soaked, completely saturated. My rain gear had finally and completely failed. Even my bra and panties were sopping wet. I actually felt warmer when I had my wet clothes off and was naked in the tent, not a good sign. I got my sleeping bag out of the dry bag and, even though my skin was damp, I climbed into it. Clammy and cold, I zipped the bag up and waited to feel warm. It took a while, but it gave me time to contemplate the bigger problem. Every single pair of pants was now wet or damp except for my sweatpants. Shit, we still had two nights and one big paddle day left. I had to save the sweats for sleeping in something dry at night. It meant that I had no dry pants to put on tomorrow morning for our last day of paddling, and I had no functional rain pants to try to stay as dry as possible. It left me 100% vulnerable to being both wet and cold again.
I talked over the situation with Bastien, and he offered to lend me a spare pair of his thermals that he really wouldn’t need. Then, I decided to put my damp pair of hiking pants in the lining of my sleeping mat for the night, which would help them dry out. That only left the very real problem of having no way to keep these things dry once I got into a kayak. The solution was…a garbage bag. I planned to cut leg holes into the bottom of a garbage bag and use the tie at the top to cinch it around my waist. It wasn’t rain pants, but it was something better than nothing. I put on my sweatpants and got out of the tent, doing everything possible to keep them dry while I had dinner with the group under the rain tarp.
