NOTHING WORLD
Introduction
A gray, cold sea lapped over the black gravel beach in lazy waves. The sky above was obscured by filmy dark clouds against an overcast sky. Beyond the beach, laid a grim gray town made up of crumbling concrete block apartment buildings. Dour, whey-faced soldiers and townspeople stood expectantly on the shore awaiting our Zodiac landing. Dogs, black, gray and white, slunk among the gathered people. Softly feathered gray and white gulls wheeled overhead looking for a handout.
Here was a monochrome world and it remained colorless until the brightly costumed Kodiak peoples hove onto the scene. Their clothing consisted of tan-colored reindeer hide cassocks decorated in colorful bead-work designs. Their headgear was constructed of more multicolored beads trailing down around their faces and in their long dark hair. Their calf-high boots were made of hides as well with beautiful embroidery and beadwork along their tops. They carried skin denims and wore broad smiles of welcome. Pink salmon were floundering, racing, leaping from the seashore into the clear river that would take them to their home river headwaters to insure another generation of their kind.
As the townspeople and the alien visitors from the outside world gathered in a big circle around the Kodiak performers who would sing and dance their time-honored folk songs for us, we began to see other colors. Teenaged Russian girls were mingling with
Ossoro Village - Indigenous People
the crowd, wearing western garb with skirts of pink and blouses of deep red, jeans with chartreuse green tops, and running shoes in surprising colors. These girls were not yet interested in the folk program in full swing. They were searching for people with whom they could practice their surprisingly fluent English.
Four girls located a couple of willing, even eager, conversationalists among us. As the group began awkwardly but determinedly to share information, the girls revealed that they already had career ambitions - the youngest at fourteen wanted to be a fashion designer, the second wanted to become a physician, a third aspired to a future in pharmacy, and the last hopes for a future as a travel agent! We all wonder where they can possibly hope to receive the training they will need. The girls pensively answered that they hope to attend university in Western Russia. One of the girls asked where her new friends live and one American lady tells her that her home is in a small town in Florida near Disney World. She then asked if the young lady is familiar with Disney World. She nodded her head and responded wistfully that she herself lives in "Nothing World".
Here on the arctic coast of eastern Russia lapped by the Bering Sea, this teenager saw only bleakness, hopelessness, poverty, ugliness, harsh conditions, and loneliness. She
Ossoro Village - Nothing World Russian Girls
and her friends were the minority in this village of Ossoro – 35% ethnic Russians and 65% Native Peoples – called officially "the small-numbered peoples'' because the populations of the various tribes are so tiny. The Kamchatka Peninsula is rightfully known as the most uninhabited inhabited place in the world.
The collapse of the Soviet system brought many unwelcome changes to this part of the world. The far east of Russia has been left to its own devices and many have had to revert to subsistence living. Hunting and fishing sustain the native peoples and many of the poor Russians as well. Moscow is very far away and apparently none too concerned with this part of the country where criminals, political dissidents, and other “enemies of the state” were sent for punishment. Some who survived the harsh conditions and the draconian discipline of prison camps still live in here in Siberia. They reside uneasily beside the "small numbered peoples" who are beginning to revert to their former traditions after having endured decades of Sovietization. Many European Russians were sent here to work in the tiny villages to reimburse the government for their educations. Only a few of them have been receiving their employee salaries over the past years. Alcoholism stalks the hopeless and these people have fallen prey to what is perhaps a genetic predisposition as well. In the recent past, a few of the older inhabitants have begun to receive their promised pensions. But when money arrives in a village from any source, it quickly goes to buy vodka; the recipients spend the next several days drunk and numbed.
Shamans are prevalent again, hunting and fishing have become the means of survival and interest in folkways has been reborn. Life is hard and there is little time left after subsistence has been satisfied. One of the girls announced with a laugh that her bright clothes were "made in China". She was aware of the outside world and its difference from her own daily life. Another of the girls had lived in a larger society in the east. Her father had practiced medicine in Kazakhstan before being transferred to this remote village. They were aware of the possibilities in other places than theirs but at present, these teens definitely saw their circumstances as "nothing world" and nothing more!
Now consider this land from the point of view of tourists who have come to see Siberia for its unspoiled nature in the high Arctic. Of course, these same outsiders will be going back home to their material comforts, optimistic outlook, choices, and security. Many are old enough to have lived a good portion of their lives in such comfortable conditions. Their viewpoint will certainly be different from the Russian youth of Ossoro. To us, this "nothing world'' was magical, beautiful in so many ways, natural, educational, and exciting! We were profoundly appreciative of the chance to visit the
Kamchatka Peninsula and the even higher Arctic Chukotka. We were filled with enthusiasm while we hiked and explored under the midnight sun'. We loved seeing the animals of this area in their own habitats; we eagerly listened to the lectures given by our naturalists, Russia scholars, birders, and the Russian liaison people. We discovered a world that was the opposite of "nothing'' because we went to see what was there, not to be disappointed in what was not.
With all due respect for the sensibilities of that lovely young lady who feels hopeless in her "nothing world',' this journal will chronicle on my impressions of Siberia; to me it to be anything but a "nothing world".
Getting there
In some obvious and amusing ways, this voyage to Far Eastern Russian can be likened to a trip to Disney World. There are wild rides, tastes of some mystery foods, long walks and entertaining shows in the Magic Kingdom. In Epcot, there are a few painless history lesions, a taste different cultures, laser light shows and opportunities for shopping. In Animal Kingdom, you visit the animals in simulated natural environments and learn about their lives, their foods, and their reproductive strategies. At MGM Studios, you get to visit your youth's familiar characters. And in all the Kingdoms, you are delighted by brilliant and flamboyant flowers and gorgeous landscaping.
Russia and the Kamchatka Peninsula
Reaching the Kamchatka Peninsula to begin the Siberian discovery trip entails an uncomfortable and an exciting ride on the charter flight from Anchorage to Petropavlovsk, the capital of Kamchatka, aboard a Russian Tupulov aircraft operated by Magadan Airlines. If you want to fly to this part of Russia, Magadan is your only choice. It's a four-hour flight in very uncomfortable circumstances. The plane was incredibly loud, much more so than any other flight we have ever taken. The seats were not really padded just wooden benches with a little fake leather fitted over them. The seat-belts were primitive and the plane had no amenities at all save for the smiling stewardesses who did offer Russian food, juices and water. It really seemed like an old flying troop ship! However, we did arrive safely at the desired destination so not too much grumbling emanated from us passengers. Of course, we couldn't have heard each other had we been complaining because our ears were both stopped up from the strange pressurizing and from the constant engine roar.
In contrast with Disney's effective crowd handling, we were treated to an incredible show of Russian bureaucratic inefficiency and red tape at the airport in Petropavlovsk. Even though we each had arrived on the Magadan flight and each had Russian visas issued from Moscow, the passport control process was insanely lengthy and pointlessly unfriendly. The dispiriting procedure may have been born of some still existent Russian
paranoia about foreigners visiting their country. Or it might have been caused by the need for job justification and "make work''. There were also several soldiers and security people hanging about as well. Despite all this suspicion we encountered, no one ever put us or our luggage through an inspection. It was a strange process all the way around. After we finally got through the interminable control system we boarded buses for the 2 hour ride to our ship.
Transport
The Clipper Odyssey
The Clipper Odyssey is a very comfortable ship and, to make it even more convenient, our cabin was on the same deck as the dining room. However, we took only the evening meal in the dining room. We ate breakfast and lunch on the deck above in the Lido Lounge. It was easier to control what we ate and the time it took to eat it when we dined there since it was cafeteria style. Besides that's where we could get the delicious lemonade and Diet Cokes!
There are seven decks open to passengers on the Odyssey including the Bridge Deck which was open to us except when otherwise announced. The lounge where we had our lectures and our "recap and briefings" was quite large and had seating for everyone with sofas, individual chairs, tables bolted to the floor and banquette seating around the periphery. The Zodiac deck was number 5. From here, we disembarked on all shore trips off the back of the ship.
Our cabin contained twin beds, a desk and chairs, a loveseat and coffee table, plenty of closet space and a roomy bathroom. As is usual in these ships, woodwork was the dominant theme of the decorations and it was in good condition and attractive. The ship also had a small gym, a swimming pool, a small library and an outdoor deck over #5 for enjoying the Siberian sunshine! Because our weather was so moderate, the sea so like a mirror, and the wind nonexistent, we never had to put on our anti-seasickness Sea-Bands. Thus, we can't really call the ship journey a "wild'' ride. It was a very stable and relaxing cruise.
Helicopter
Some of our fellow passengers took a ride on a Russian helicopter to visit what was called "The Valley of the Geysers'' in the interior of Kamchatka. These machines were enormous and the folks said the ride was very stable and not alarming at all. Kay and I elected not to take that excursion because the price was so scary - $500.00 each for about six hours including the flight and the land portion. The intrepid travelers reported seeing nothing like the mini-Yellowstone they had expected.
Instead there were some bubbling mud pots, some fumaroles, and one constantly spitting geyser that reached about 20 feet in height at best. They had lunch on the ground and some of the folks did see a bear from very far away! We did not regret that we weren't with them. We learned that day that we have been pronouncing "geyser'' incorrectly all these years. According to Icelandic, from which the word is borrowed, it should be said like "geezer'' as in "you old geezer.''
Dogsleds
At one of the villages we visited, some of us felt more like being adventurous and took dogsled rides on a gravel beach with the sled equipped with wheels. Others went with the Chukchi fishermen out in a skin boat - a vessel like a very large canoe made out of walrus hide and whalebone ribs. There is a real skill to building these boats and since the people have reverted to fishing and hunting to live, the elders have been teaching the younger men how to construct them again. The tourists who dared to take the rides reported that the boats seem very stable and surprisingly maneuverable but very heavy to carry and to launch into the waves.
Zodiacs
Of course, the Zodiacs could be considered "wild rides", if the wind or water conditions were unfavorable. However, because our voyage was so serene, we never really had any excitement on the Zodiacs, except for one day when there were some large slow swells in the ocean that made our landing on shore a little bit trickier. One problem with swells occurs if the Zodiac gets sideways to the shore at which point it can be tipped over by the waves. The other situation is not so dangerous, just uncomfortable. That occurs if you jump off the Zodiac when the swell is rising at the shoreline because then you end up with a boot-full of water, wet clothes, and perhaps wet camera and binoculars. However, the real enjoyment of Zodiac riding is seeing the animals who live in and on the waters as well as seeing the land from a different perspective.
Flowers and Landscaping
One of the most impressive things about Disney World for most adults, especially those who visit without a child or grandchild in tow, is the beauty of the flowers which are everywhere in all four of the Kingdoms. It is obvious that the landscaping is well cared for and that fresh plants immediately replace older ones that become bedraggled or refuse to flower. All that work occurs during off hours too so the parks always appear at the peak of floral loveliness.
A visit to the "nothing world'' of Siberia in the summer is also a trip to a wonderland of the most improbable and gorgeous flowers! Mother Nature tends this garden world on the tundra, undergirded by permafrost - sometimes a few inches below the surface and sometimes a few feet, but always present somewhere in the earth. The "active layer'' of this earth is that part which has melted sufficiently to support plant life. And what an abundance of plant varieties there are! Who would have thought that frozen ground with such a short, but intense, growing season could produce such stunning vistas.
Most of the plants, both flower and berry-bearing, are very small; they look like bonsai forms of more familiar growth. There is so much variety in color that an artist would find a complete palette among them: yellow, salmon, blue, purple, red, orange, pink, lavender, white, even a chocolate brown. The flowers range in shapes from tiny bells, to five and six pointed stars, to round and fuzzy pincushions, to trumpets to cups. They are kin to roses, to lilies, to poppies, to azaleas and rhododendrons. The variety is simply astounding.
Interspersed among the flowers some tall (meaning about 4 inches above the ground) and others quite short (meaning not even an inch above the earth), are ferns, mosses, sedges, willow trees, low bush cranberries, blueberries, and other fruits usually of interest only to the bears such as crowberries, soapberries, and bearberries.
Thus, even though the "gardens'' are quite diminutive, they are spectacular in tints and diversity. And just as Disney must hire workers to keep the plantings fresh and healthy, so Mother Nature has her bumblebees (the only member of the bee family that can survive in the north country because of its special ability to become frozen and revive) and birds to pollinate her children and keep the generations coming.
Imagine, if you will, lying down on a soft and springy bed of tussock grasses and looking out in front of you at this scene of tiny plants of myriad colors, every color you can imagine really. And this marvel happens every year for about 10 weeks as the plants struggle to complete their life cycle in the few days of warmth and long hours of sunlight.
Even though Lilliputian, Mother Nature's arctic garden is as beautiful as any cultivated botanical garden you can envision. Its fierce tenacity in the face of such brutal conditions during winter makes the miracle all the more awe-inspiring and the beauty even more precious and perfect.
People Along the Way
At Disney World, the cartoon characters we have all known since childhood walk around among the crowds, adding to the delight of children and providing photo opportunities for the adults.
But what a seasoned traveler learns to consider when in a foreign land among societies other than his own, is that the “familiar” may represent nothing more than his stereotyping of his own world. What he “sees” is being filtered through the eye of his own life's history and possibly may have nothing to do with the true reality of the event.
And so it was in Siberia that we found people we felt we recognized from stereotyping during the cold war days. We visited three villages; one on the Kamchatka Peninsula, one in Chukotka, the most northern point on the Siberian Arctic coast and another on one of the Commander Islands. The little towns were Ossoro, Linoro, and Nikolskoye. Each of them was composed of about 35% European Russians and 65% "small numbered peoples'' akin to our North American Tlingits, lnuit, and Haidas. These people look very similar to our familiar North American "Eskimos'' (actually a misnomer) As we learned during the visits, their folkways and traditions are quite similar as well. The dancing was especially remarkable since all three groups had such similar dances, songs and rhythms. They were reminiscent of dance presentations we have seen on several trips to Alaska.
While we think of dance as movement in the entire body, these dances seemed to utilize mostly the arms and head. The feet and legs were generally restricted to walking or stamping type motions. The arms were often uplifted, stretched out in front, waving in imitation of animal movements, and pumped to the rhythm of the skin drums. The dances were given names like "Women Sewing,'' "Salmon Fishing,'' "Reindeer Hunting".
Another “familiar” stereotypical character from the cold war days of our youth, was the good Russian soldier, Ivanov. He was much in evidence in all three villages. He walked
about among the townspeople and us in his camouflage uniform with a pale expressionless face.
There were many lvanovs stationed in these tiny places with populations ranging from about 600 to 2000. Russian paranoia may not have dissipated much since the fall of the Soviet system; we found ourselves watched closely by the soldiers. Was it curiosity or suspicion?
Russian and American Doctors
In this case, the stereotyping was done on the Russian side of the coin.
The surgeon we met in Nikolskoye both surprised us with an unexpected enthusiasm and disappointed us by falling into stereotypical behavior. While I stood way at the back of our group watching the first of our native song and dance performances (the better to avoid being drug into any "participation'' type activities), a man in an overcoat with Coke-bottle-bottom glasses approached me and hesitantly began trying out his English. In an effort to overcome our language barrier, we gave into the ineffectual but common practice of talking louder, performing charades and employing sign language in an effort to better communicate. After being astonished to learn that he had read and loved Jack London and Mark Twain (in English and in Russian), I was not so surprised to finally understand that he was an educated man, the town doctor and surgeon in charge of the hospital of this small village.
Dr. Valery Alexandreyevich was a likeable person and he was so sincere in his love for American stories that the English professorship in me quickly responded to him. We actually became so animated in our efforts to "discuss'' the literature that we got too loud and a member of the Zegrahm staff came over to suggest (embarrassingly enough) that we keep our voices down so as not to drown out the young Aleuts who were performing for us. We both blushed deeply at her reprimand and stayed a little quieter for a while. At some length, the "show'' ended and the Doctor and I said our goodbyes with big smiles as I began to wend my way back towards the Zodiac landing.
Kay and I were walking through the village mulling over what we had experienced there in Nikolskoye, when suddenly we saw someone in front of us fall down. One of our fellow travelers tripped on some stones on the downhill path and in trying to maintain her balance, her feet moved too fast and she ended up falling face down without even trying to break her fall with hands or arms. She did what is called a "face plant''. Kay ran immediately to her and began to calm her and keep her still until an assessment could be made of what injuries she had suffered. She was bleeding profusely, apparently from the nose and some facial damage she had suffered.
Soon members of the expedition staff were on the scene and immediately got the ship's physician, Dr. Chris Hall, on his way to the accident site. Kay meantime had evaluated the patient and stabilized her neck and head. It was discovered that she had indeed broken her nose and sustained a long laceration down its bridge. She had knocked out her two front teeth and bitten through her bottom lip. She also had several facial abrasions that were oozing blood quite briskly. But she had not broken her neck or her back so that was the good news. However, it was clear that some of her wounds would need suturing and the nose needed to be put back in position and taped. The medical team of the Clipper Odyssey had things well in hand and sent for a backboard to carry her onto the Zodiac for the ride to the ship where Dr. Hall had all the supplies, equipment, and medicines he would need to care for this lady.
This is where Dr. Valery greatly disappointed us by falling into a stereotypical misconception that he could not be dissuaded from believing. He repeatedly tried to get Dr. Hall to let him take the lady to his hospital where he, a surgeon, would care for her.
Even though there were several fluent Russian speakers with our group who tried to explain to him that Dr. Hall did not need his help and that he indeed was responsible for her care, Dr. Valery was disconsolate about the refusal. Suddenly, he came over to
me and began to bitterly gesture and speak his belief that the reason Dr. Hall would not allow the lady to be taken to the Nikolskoye Hospital was because he would then forfeit his fee for service. He also knew that Kay is a doctor and he thought she would be getting money from the patient too for the first aid she had rendered.
I explained as best I could that such was not the case but he just kept shaking his head in sad disbelief. Even when I asked one of the Russian speakers to explain that no money would exchange hands between the patient and either physician, he just continued to rub his thumb and fingers together in the international sign language meaning "money.'' He persisted in his impression that American physicians are the stereotypes he has been propagandized to believe in rendering no care unless the fee is paid.
In spite of our differences at the end of our meeting, I am going to attempt to send some American short stories in English to Doctor Valery because he seems so eager to learn to read and speak English more fluently. The ship will visit that village again and they will bring the books to him if I can get them to Zegrahm. I plan to send him short story collections by Bret Harte and Stephen Crane.
Fellow Travelers and Staff
We were a large group of first time visitors to Siberia. There were 108 passengers from all over the United States plus other nationalities including Belgians, Dutch, Scotch, English, French, Argentinians, and even two Russian tourists. Most people were amazingly well traveled and many had been on several Zegrahm trips (one couple had been on over 40 trips with them). As one would imagine, people choosing to visit Far Eastern Siberia had probably been just about everywhere else in the world first. Kay and I felt positively parochial compared with most of these folks.
Because the ship was large enough to easily house our group and because Zegrahm arranged the Zodiac tours so well, we never felt crowded. Since there were diverse interests among us, landings were divided up according to tastes. Thus, if you wanted to go birding, you waited for the announcement that birders should now proceed to Deck 5 for Zodiac boarding. On the other hand, if you wanted to do a long, strenuous hike, you waited for the "long walkers'' to be called. There were other options also, such as naturalist hikers, beachcombers, middle length walkers, and the like. With the passenger complement divided in this way, no one felt inconvenienced.
As is usual with a big group like this one, people did form smaller cliques who usually ate together and sat together during lectures and happy hours. But everyone was friendly and welcoming to everyone else. We particularly liked a Scotch couple (George and Jean D.) with whom we often ate and hiked. George is a geology professor at the University of Edinburgh and was a mine of information regarding all the mountains, rocks, and terrain we were seeing. His wife has a droll sense of humor and was just so enthusiastic about all the tundra plants - a passion we shared.
Similar in function to the workers and docents at Disney World, these guides to "nothing world'' are determined to show visitors every wonderful and unexpected aspect of exotic Siberia.
They wanted to be sure that tourists didn’t miss anything! There were five components of staff on our Siberian adventure, The National Audubon staff, the Smithsonian Journeys Staff, and Zegrahm staff. In addition, we had the Clipper Odyssey crew of officers, able-bodied seaman, cruise director, hotel and kitchen workers and the cabin stewards. Still another group was comprised of Sergey, the liaison official between Zegrahm and the Russian government, Sasha, the Russian fish and wildlife officer, and another Sasha, whose role was never clearly defined for us but who definitely was a representative for some department of the Russian government. The mysterious 2nd Sasha did not stay with us for the entire trip; he just up and disappeared at one point. This disparate group worked amazingly well together even though their allegiances were different. All seemed focused on us travelers having an enjoyable and meaningful experience in Siberia. Because there were so many individuals, there's no way to describe each and every one of them, so I will discuss just a representative sampling from each component.
We also enjoyed being with Roger Harris and Meryl Sundove from Audubon Society whom we had met on the 30-day Orion cruise “Lost Islands of the Atlantic”. They were their usual delightful company and shared their enthusiasm for birding and flower discoveries with us.
Smithsonian Journeys sent two excellent Russian speakers and experts on Russian history, society, and ethnography: George Munro and Ronald Wixman. Though their expertise overlapped somewhat, they could not have been more different in style and temperament. George is professorial and reserved. His lectures were formal and fascinating. He did like to start and punctuate his talks with jokes which revealed
aspects of the Russian personality as well as the mind sets about the “small numbered peoples.
George was an effortless hiker who was always helpful to fellow walkers on the rambles. He is married to a Russian lady and lives part of the year in Russia. He is hopeful about Russia's future and somewhat tolerant of her past but feels that presently her condition is teetering on a fence and could fall either way--towards more democracy and capitalism or backwards toward more authoritarianism.
Ron Wixman is a Brooklyn native congenitally obsessed with Slavic culture and Jewish participation in that milieu. He has lived in the Slavic countries for many years, Russia, Bulgaria, Hungary Romania and parts of Old Yugoslavia. He also speaks Russian and several other Slavic languages fluently. He looks like an older Billy Crystal and has a rambling, witty, and distinctly Jewish one-liner style of lecturing. He too is basically optimistic for Russia but also acknowledges the same problems that George identifies in realizing her potential.
We had 3 of the original Zegrahm founders on board: Peter Harrison, Shirley Metz, and Mike Messick. Peter is the author of definitive reference books on seabirds of the world (he is absolutely brilliant in identifying the seabirds and most others as well) and he is a raconteur par excellence. Most of his stories involve his own life which has been fascinating. He has the Irish way with English and is a very engaging and emotional speaker. His lectures were always the best attended and he himself is obviously the favorite among the experienced Zegrahm travelers.
Shirley Metz is Peter's wife and what a happy couple they seem to be. In 1989 she became the first woman, and one of the first Americans in history, to ski overland to the South Pole, a journey of over 800 miles. She has been listed in the Guinness Book of Records, and in 1989, the Soviet minister of polar research and exploration bestowed his country's prestigious Polar Award upon Shirley, the only woman to receive this distinction. She is an effortless hiker and often led groups of us on various explorations.
Mike Messick is about 40, making him the youngest of the founders while Peter at 63 is the oldest. Mike embarked on a full-time career in adventure travel shortly after university graduation and has since visited more than 170 countries around the world. He has conducted research at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. He is a member of The Explorers Club, holds a U.S. Coast Guard captain's license, and has his scuba instructor certificate from NAUI. He has the usual cheery deportment of an expedition
leader and is quite well organized and safety conscious. He ran the "recap and briefing'' sessions and made all the announcements for the expedition. He is very personable and well liked too. We enjoyed his breezy style and his rousing demeanor. He and the captain of the Odyssey worked well together in planning safe landings with interesting things to see and do once ashore.
Mark Brazil is an Englishman who now lives in Japan and teaches at a university on Hokkaido. He also maintains a home in Dunedin, New Zealand. He is a tall fellow who habitually wears some sort of scarf arrangement that looks vaguely piratical. The difference in how he looks with his headgear and without it is really surprising! Actually, the improbable scarf arrangement is more fetching. Mark is also a true bird expert who can identify black spots in the sky in a flash and with great assurance. Meantime, less accomplished birdwatchers can barely even see the sky dots he's identifying as this or that bird.
To watch Peter and Mark birding together as we did on the sand spit at Timmus Lagoon is really quite amusing. There is definitely some competitiveness going on but also great collegiality. Peter, the shorter of the two, was hopping from tundra tussock to tussock hissing through his front teeth the names of the birds he was seeing, "Red phalarope on pond at 3 o'clock.'' Mark, the taller, was striding majestically through the same terrain. He would announce magisterially his own sightings, "Brandts coming left, l female and 1 male!"
Meanwhile, mosquitoes were feasting on all of us and creating dark curtains before our eyes, further making bird identification impossible. Peter and Mark scorned the bugrepellant head nets that most of us sported and barely bothered to swat at the pesky biters. What a pair they were!
Among the Russians, Sergey was quite clearly the go-to guy for the whole expedition. He is a young entrepreneur who has purchased his own boat, the Typhoon, and has become a promoter of travel in this part of his country that he so obviously loves. He was raised in coastal Siberia and cares deeply for the "small numbered people'' who live there.
He is unashamedly emotional in his admiration for their tenacity and integrity and he is devoted to helping them preserve their way of life. Sergey has a crew on board his own vessel which stayed with us the entire trip, scouting appropriate landing sites, looking for wildlife on the beaches, and transporting our garbage to acceptable dump sites. He also led the long and strenuous hikes, fondly named “Sergey's Death Marches''. He is, no doubt, an example of Russia's positive hopes for a better future.
My hero on this trip, though, was without doubt Sasha #1! He looks like Yul Brynner except that he is much taller, stronger, and bigger! This man hiked effortlessly up hills and down and must have had "seven league boots" because he could cover so much ground so fast that he seemed atomic powered, except those great strides looked as though they cost him nothing in energy or effort.
Sasha was always with us on shore, accompanying one or the other of the groups and yet seeming to keep an eye on all of us. He was the wildlife officer and his apparent responsibility was to keep the animals safe from us as well as us out of danger from the critters. If anyone approached an animal too closely or even impinged on a place where the animals were congregating, Sasha was there to stop that behavior immediately. Of course, all of the travelers were respectful of the animals and really gave him no trouble on purpose. Cautions were necessary only when someone strayed too close in an effort to get a closer picture or just got carried away with the thrill of seeing the animals!
The reason Sasha became my personal hero was because he saved me from injury and maybe worse on one of our hikes with Sergey. We were scrambling over rocks and tundra on the uphill trying to reach a view-point in a beautiful setting when it was necessary to cross a rapidly running stream. The wet rocks we could step across were widely separated and on the way across I slipped and got a boot-full of water and began to really lose my footing. The next step would have been over the down-stream waterfall and down some pretty gruesome looking craggy rocks! I thought I was a goner for sure when suddenly I was lifted up bodily and placed on dry ground on the far side of the stream. Sasha had grabbed me around the waist and transported me to safety in a split second. He did that even though he was standing on the slippery rocks in the middle of the stream! Needless to say, I showered him with profuse thanks. He is very shy and speaks no English and acted as though what he had done was no big deal. Perhaps to him it wasn't, but to me it was pretty damned impressive and absolutely necessary!
Educational Aspects
Even a place so obviously dedicated to entertainment as Disney World also provides some education along with the amusements. "nothing world'' is filled with lots of history and many things completely unknown to us in the West. Our excellent lecturers and naturalists certainly saw to it that we came away with new insights plus helpful and entertaining knowledge! We didn't come away with just little factoids and snippets of fun facts; our program was designed to give us context and understanding as well.
Historical Figures
The two most prominent historical men in this area of the world are Vitus Bering and Georg Steller. Since we were in the Bering Sea, heading for the Bering Straits, and aware that the land bridge which supposedly carried the first humans to North and South America is called Beringia, we were all already at least familiar with the first of these men. Because all of the birders knew that one of the "Holy Grail'' birds we were all wanting to see is the Steller's Sea Eagle, his name was also not unknown to us. Also, we hoped to view the endangered Steller's sea lion as well. However, most of us did not know of the connection between the two men or much about their adventures together and separately. So we knew we had much to learn!
Vitus Jonassen Bering
Captain (Komandor in Russian) Bering was a Dane who served all his professional life in the Russian Navy under Tsar Peter the Great. He had joined the Russian Navy in 1703. He was born in Denmark in 1681 and died on December 19, 1741 on what is now called Bering Island in the Commander Island group. Bering was the most important figure in Peter's Great Northern Expedition and his intrepid voyages explored much of the Russian Far East and Alaska, revealing that Asia and North America were separate continents.
In 1735, after several more or less successful explorations and voyages, Bering went overland from Moscow in western Russia to Okhotsk on Russia's eastern coast—a trek of nearly 3500 miles. There he engaged the services of local craftsman and had two ships built: the St. Peter and the St. Paul, so that he could conduct further explorations of the Kamchatka Peninsula and the Far North regions of Asia and North America. He also founded the present city of Petropavlovsk in 1740.
Bering and Aleksei Chirikov (captain of the St. Paul) left for the American coast in 1741 and though they became separated by a storm, each of the ships sighted and landed on parts of the Alaskan chain of islands.
Storms eventually ended this expedition and the two ships reunited at the uninhabited Commander Islands. The St. Peter was shipwrecked and Bering became deathly ill as did 28 men of his company. They eventually died of what Steller diagnosed as scurvy and were buried on the Islands. The only surviving carpenter was able to build a second St. Peter, albeit much smaller, so Chirikov and the other surviving sailors returned safely home, but for one more sailor who died one day out of port. We were told by our trip historians that Bering died of scurvy though Steller tried to prevent his death (and that of the other crew members) by having them eat vegetation found on the islands. But Bering absolutely refused to eat the bulbs.
According to an encyclopedia I consulted when writing this journal, in August 1991, Bering's body was returned to Moscow and examined by forensic pathologists who concluded he had not died of scurvy but of some other disease. The body was then sent back to the Commander Islands and he was reburied there.
The value of Bering's discoveries was not recognized for a very long time, but Captain Cook later on proved the accuracy of Bering's observations. Today his name is common currency because it is attached to so many geographical sites in the Pacific far north: Bering Strait, Bering Sea, Bering Island and the Bering Land Bridge.
Georg Wilhelm Steller
Dr. Georg Wilhelm Steller was a German, born in 1709 died on November 14, 1746. In addition to his education as a physician, Steller was also a botanist, zoologist and an explorer. After completing his education in 1738, Steller went to Russia to work at the St. Petersburg Academy of Science. He was appointed naturalist on Bering's second voyage to Kamchatka, charged with the mission of charting the Siberian coast of the Arctic Ocean and also with locating an eastern passage to North America. He also traveled overland to Okhotsk and there met Bering for the first time.
While the ships were being built for the voyage, Steller explored Kamchatka Peninsula, describing and drawing the flora and fauna he saw there. He also founded a school for native children. He was then called to the ships to begin the expedition. It was ill-fated as has been reported in the section on Bering and the crew shipwrecked on Bering Island where Bering and the other sailors perished. Remarkably enough, Steller had conceived the idea that the officers and crew should be eating vegetation to both cure and prevent scurvy. After Bering died, Steller and the remaining crew settled in to
survive the battle with the winter. One of the weapons they used in that fight was eating the recommended vegetation in teas and as an uncooked food source.
Steller went on with his observations. He named many animals and birds of that area since he was the first European to see them: Steller's Jay, Steller's Sea Lion, Steller's Sea Cow, the Northern Fur Seal, the Sea Otter, Steller's Sea Eagle, Steller's Eider, and the Spectacled Cormorant.
Following his remarkable survival and return from the Commander Islands to Petropavlovsk, Steller spent another two years with further exploration and observation on the Kamchatka Peninsula. Though Steller himself did not make it back to Moscow, his journals did and were published to much scientific acclaim. Captain Cook himself also used Steller's journals in his own voyages of discovery. Perhaps that is why he was so adamant that his men eat vegetables so that they could avoid scurvy. Unlike the obstinate Bering, Captain Cook believed the intrepid doctor's ideas about the importance of this item in the diet of sailors. Perhaps he did not know about Vitamin C, but he knew the vegetation held some sort of preventive for that dread disease of sailing men.
Birds and Animals
One of the most striking things we learned about both flora and fauna of the Arctic regions is that the higher you go in latitude, the fewer become the number of individual species but the more numerous become the individuals within each specie. A basic rule of thumb says that at 60 degrees of latitude there are about 60 species each of plants, of birds and of animals. At 80 degrees, that reduces to 20 of each type. At 90 degrees (North Pole), there are none.
For us, one of the "holy grail" bird species was the puffin and here we were treated to two species: the horned and the tufted. We learned that these birds can carry 61 fish in that parrot-like colorful bill. The orange and yellow bill is girded by "plates" of more vivid coloration which are molted after breeding season. We also learned that they practice a type of weaning of their chicks called "abandonment". Yep, that's what it's called. When summer ends, the parents simply fly away leaving the bewildered chicks in their below ground nests.
As the chicks get hungry, they finally realize that Mom and Dad are not returning with breakfast any longer and they begin to try their wings and their unpracticed hunting
skills. Puffins obviously do not pass on their survival skills through any direct teaching. That hard-wiring of instinct provides the necessary knowledge for these beautiful birds.
The Route
Just as in Disney World, you can go from the Magic Kingdom to the World of Tomorrow, to Frontier Land, we were exploring "nothing world" by landing on various beaches on the Kamchatka, as well as some islands off the coast of the peninsula, and some little towns and villages on both as shown on the accompanying map.
We do know that we left from Petropavlovsk, the capital of the province, and went north up the peninsular coast, then crossed over to the Commander Islands, and then sailed back to Kamchatka. We kept leapfrogging up that landmass and finally sailed up the coast of Siberia into Chukotka on the mainland.
The Kamchatka Peninsula is a huge dependency dangling off the Siberian part of the Asian continent. It is as large in area as France, Germany and Switzerland combined. The Peninsula is an integral part of the Pacific "Ring of Fire'' containing as it does over 170 volcanoes, some 35 of which are considered active. Mountain scenery is the norm on this great expanse and the most picturesque of them display the typical conical perfection of volcanoes all over the world. But Kamchatka is home to more wild birds and beasts than human beings because it is a very harsh place to exist. The national park on the peninsula is home to the Russian Brown Bear and harbors Russia's largest concentration of this mega-bear.
Kamchatka Peninsula
ZHUPANOVA RIVER
Our first landing after leaving the capital city was the Zhupanova River. We were off on our first Zodiac cruise while others opted for the helicopter tour of the geyser valley. The Zodiac tour's most exciting sightings were a Steller's Sea Eagle on her nest and a young brown bear we surprised as we rounded a bend in the river. The eagle was a very large bird, probably about 20 lbs. in weight, with a heavy yellow bill and a brown head. She resembles our bald eagle except for her much larger size and white streaks on her wings.
The bear was at the shoreline when we happened upon him and he was not pleased to be startled by us. He rose up and stared at us then quickly disappeared behind the first row of underbrush on the shoreline. We were all amazed that the crew then let us off the Zodiacs for a birding walk just a bit further down the shore. For better or worse, we did not see him again.
We got our first experience of walking in the boggy marshes and it was tough going since our feet sank pretty deep and had to be pulled out with each step. Disaster befell one of our party; he stepped too close to one of the little ponds we kept skirting and found that the land fell away under him. He ended up going in up to his waist and thus destroyed his new digital camera and his binoculars. And this was day one on our first shore excursion! What a way to start the trip!
Next we were taken to a salmon processing plant along the shoreline. The workers leave their homes behind to live at the plant for three months during the salmon runs. They work 24/7 during this period of intense activity, buying fish of all types from the area's fishermen. Salmon is the most prized and expensive fish, but others are processed here as well.
The site of the fish processing plant was pretty bleak. It sat on the end of a low spit of land jutting into the Zhupanova. All the buildings looked very ramshackle and temporary. Many seemed constructed of just tar-paper and bits of driftwood. There was a community outhouse complex at the rear of the campsite area. Food was prepared and served from a communal open-air dining pavilion.
The hands of all the workers seemed reddened, chapped and swollen from their constant immersion in the icy cold waters as they worked at gutting and cleaning the fish to prepare them for the freezers. The faces of these workers were not happy and smiling but, accordingly Sergey, they are lucky to have these jobs.
These kind and hard-working men and women invited us to an impromptu salmon feast in which they prepared that famous fish in a variety of ways: soup, fried filets, smoked fish, even salmon roe. By this time, the helicopter adventurers had landed and they joined us for the feast. Those of us who sampled everything were impressed by the good taste of all the dishes.
Commander Islands
SEVERO-ZAPADNY CAPE - SEAL ROOKERY
Next day, we found ourselves in the Commander Islands, so named for Vitus Bering. Our first landing of that day was off Severo Zapadny where we visited a seal rookery. We had a pleasant and green walk about a mile and a half to reach the bluffs from which we could overlook the beach. On the way, many birds flitted among the shrubs and grasses and made the walk a very lively hunt with our binos.
The Commanders are lovely islands covered with green patches and very low hills. Grasses and tussocks create the most prominent part of the landscape with a few low bushes to finish out the scene. The island beaches are dark gray sand at the shoreline. After a brief scramble up the bluffs, relatively level ground is reached. When we ended our walk, we found ourselves on a bluff about 100 feet above the shore where we could overlooked a huge assemblage of sea mammals: northern fur seals, Steller's sea lions, and Largha seals, a subspecies of harbor seals.
Scurrying about among these behemoths was a single molting Arctic fox. He looked like a person whose tinted hair is growing out in all different "calico cat" colors. There were also gulls and other seabirds to complete the scene. The honking and barking was continuous but the animals looked relaxed and unafraid. Not much hunting goes on in this section of the Commander Islands.
NIKOLSKOYE SETTLEMENT
This was such a busy day that it's difficult to believe that we also visited the little town of Nikolskoye, a town of 800 souls, where we met the suspicious
Dr. Valery described before and watched the Aleuts perform their native dances and songs.
The town was founded in 1826 by sealers and whalers of the Russian-American Company. The people live on a high bluff up from the shore; some remains of their previous village still sit on a lower bluff and along the beach. On the shore is a statue purportedly honoring Vitus Bering, but strangely enough, the bust was modeled after a photograph of a second or third cousin of the grand explorer. No one can say that Vitus actually looked like that statue!
ARIY KAMEN ISLAND
As if this day in the Commanders had not been as full as any day at Disney ever seemed to a five year old, we were treated to a Zodiac cruise after supper to visit a bird sanctuary, Ariy Kamen Island, where thousands of Common Murres, Pigeon Guillemots, Pelagic and Red- Faced Cormorants, Tufted and Horned Puffins, Kittiwakes, both black and red-legged, and Thick and Thin-Billed Murres were nesting in the ledges, shelves, niches, and thick tussock grasses. It is not possible to land a boat on the high rocky cliffs of this island making it all the more precious for the nesting, breeding birds. However, a huge male Steller's Sea Lion had no trouble hauling himself out onto the lower rocks. There he posed against the backdrop of rocks and birds and entertained us with grunts and groans.
VITUS BERRING GRAVESITE
Vitus Bering and his naturalist doctor, Georg Steller, were the most important people on today's first landing. We were still in the Commander Islands, this time on Bering Island, for a visit to Vitus Bering's gravesite along with the graves of the 28 other sailors who joined him in death on that fateful voyage. The island is green and grand with low mountains surrounding the valley we visited. It reminded us again of South Georgia where Shackleton is buried. There is a huge cross facing out to sea and then a fenced off area where the tombstones stand lonely and white against the green.
Far away on the opposite hillside we saw a tantalizing spot of white that turned out to be a snowy owl! This beautiful bird sat on the ground (there are no trees) for a very long time as we all strained to see him through our binoculars. He flew for us as well and we could all observe his powerful wing strokes and his silent passage across the sky. That was another special moment in that "nothing world" of black gravel earth and granite hillside faces, white for snow-streaking in the mountaintops and green for the land's lush covering of vegetation.
All the guides had wonderful stories to tell us about Bering and Stellar - defining their personalities, their conflicts and their accomplishments. Two very different men yoked together in the cause of Russian exploration of the Arctic region between the Asian and North American continents. The various perspectives we got from the historians, the naturalists and the raconteurs certainly led us to believe that Steller was the more brilliant of the two and actually accomplished more lasting results because of his observations of the flora and fauna of the region as well as his careful lawmaking skills. However, Bering's achievement is not to be slighted either; without his being offered the command and without his intrepidity, Steller could not have had the opportunity to make his observations. Their lives and their subsequent reputations are certainly inextricably intertwined.
Back to Kamchatka Peninsula
OSSORO VILLAGE
Today we were back on the Kamchatka Peninsula at the village of Ossoro with its 2800 people, some 70% of whom were Koryak peoples and the other 30% European Russians. This was the town we visited where the young girl described her surroundings as "Nothing World".
The Koryak peoples performed for us as had the Alerts at Nikolskoye; actually the songs, drumming and dancing were very similar, surely making it clear that all these peoples are akin to one another on the cultural level if not genetically and linguistically. They asked people to come up and dance some of the folktales with them and then the women demonstrated their salmon-gutting and cleaning prowess and speed. They invited anyone who was game to try their own hands at the skill and some folks did participate.
Ossoro Village is also the location of our experience with the "spy" soldiers who kept close surveillance on our very suspicious birding walk. They also carefully noted our attempts at catching the returning salmon bare-handed as well as our clumsy attempts to put the struggling fish who got sidetracked into blind runnels back into the main channel. These salmon are pink and therefore not commercially valuable but they are a mainstay of the people's diets here. We also tried to fend off the hungry gulls who were immediately on any fish that strayed off the direct route back to the spawning grounds. We were all very aware that we were being watched but we were having so much fun that we went ahead with our own abilities. No one tried to pocket a live salmon.
However despite our blameless behavior, the soldiers exercised their authority when we were ready to walk the 200 yards up the beach to watch the Koryak perform. They insisted that because there is a watchtower on the beach between the salmon stream and the sandstage, we would have to get back into the Zodiacs, motor off the coast and come into land again near the performance circle. What that tower "watches" we have no idea but it certainly wasn't for foreigners; none have come here in so long.
This day had been gray and misty and cold when we were standing about on the beach, either birding or watching performances. We wondered if the young girls felt blue because they never saw the sunshine. Their world is actually quite monochromatic and entertainment must be really rare since even the vigilant Russian soldiers seemed grateful for our visit and for the Koryak performance. We do know that after we left Petropavlovsk, we were visiting territories where the people had not seen foreigners in over ten years!
KARAGA ISLAND
After dinner on this day, we got off ship at Karaga Island where we were offered various levels of hiking from 5 PM to 7 PM; we had the short walks along the shore, we had medium walks further back and up a slight incline into a forested area, and we had the long walk with Sergey. Kay and I chose to walk with Sergey and about 15 other folks.
About 75% of this trail was done over snowfields that could be treacherously slippery because of the angles of the hillsides we crossed. We did some crashing through the stovepine copses (no path or trail, just pushing one's way through the relatively rubbery branches). There was a lot of merry tussock hopping in the low bush blueberries that were not yet ripe. The scenery gradually opened out when we left the thickets behind and became startlingly beautiful. Half frozen ponds, mountains all around sheeted with pure white undisturbed snow, crystal clear air that tingled in nose and lungs, azure skies decorated with wispy clouds. It was warm enough to hike in shirtsleeves, especially at the pace that Sergey set for us. In the whole brisk walk of about 2 miles we saw no wildlife but the views were definitely worth our physical
exertions. The waters in the lakes were green instead of the slate-gray waters of the ocean and seas we had been crossing. We had a group picture taken at the conclusion of the hike just to prove that everyone had made it through in a vertical and relaxed condition.
GLYBOKAYA BAY GHOST VILLAGE
Our day started swathed in cotton; when we looked out our porthole at 6 AM, we could see nothing but a world of white, no shoreline, no mountains embracing the fjord we were entering, no birds, nothing. By 7:30 AM, this "nothing world'' began to reveal its wonders, layer by layer, as the clouds and mist lifted. The blue sky blazed above us. What a glorious day to enjoy two landings and bears! We entered Glybokaya Bay in the shrouds of morning but landed on shore at 8:00 AM with crystalline air and perfect visibility. We elected to walk with Shirley Metz on the medium walk and it was a stunner! When we had crossed the stony shorelines we entered an old ghost village and walked through it to reach the bluffs and hills beyond.
The abandoned town was filled with derelict buildings made of silvery weathered boards, rusting hasps, a skeletal keel of a boat never finished, broken reddish tracks for an old tram system. The bony finger of a pole reached towards the blue with still dangling wires trailing down, no longer lighting anything. Nearly covered by the grasses were bits of glass in different shiny colors, dirty string, black wires grained boards tooling strangely sad and lovely. Curiously, there was no plastic trash and no glaring white, imperishable, Styrofoam. That was a surprise indeed.
The village sat on the floor of a beautiful valley with a magnificent backdrop of steep hills wrapped in coverlets of green, which were shrugged off higher into the low mountains to reveal bony shoulders and craggy brows. White streaks of snow were bleeding down over the angular faces of the higher peaks. The disintegrating buildings at the landing site were the signs of the extinguished human presence in this magnificent valley. But there were signs of a persistent living world all around us; bear scat, animal tracks large and small, carpets of flowers shining gold, yellow, white and purple, "painted" Mandarin Ducks flaunting their soft brown beauty against the olive green pond on which they skimmed, and icy streams we crossed as they rushed over
stony beds chilling our feet enclosed in warm and dry boots; all bearing witness to the huge "presence" of the natural living world.
LAVROVA BAY GULAG
After lunch, we were all still talking of the strange elation that beautiful but lonely place had produced in us; we were ready for another magical experience. The Odyssey moved to Lavrova Bay while we ate so we were landing in a new spot. This one proved truly beautiful as well. And it had the added pleasure of our observation of a mother brown bear and her two cubs on the short beach at the end of the bay.
We were all in our Zodiacs, making up a fairly sizable flotilla of 12. We killed the motors and slowly drifted about 300 yards off shore with a bristling of cameras and binoculars pointed toward the family on shore. The mother bear was quickly aware of our presence but seemed undisturbed at the sight while we were relatively far away. The cubs gamboled and played; mama went to work fishing. The cubs had play fights and constantly sought their mother's attention. She kept them fairly close to her since they were obviously this year's cubs and still young and small. At one point, she went out into the surf and snagged a fish that she presented to the cubs. They tore into their lunch and then played some more. While this strangely domestic and yet decidedly wild scene played out before our amazed and delighted eyes behind cameras and binos, the zodiacs drifted ever closer to shore. The mother bear suddenly summoned the cubs and she disappeared into the brush with three quick steps with the kids right on her heels.
As the engines started again and the zodiacs carried us into another cove of the bay, we were not prepared for the next experience of "nothing world". Filled with the wonder of that time with such magnificent creatures, we were now confronted with a chilling reminder the Soviet past--an abandoned herring processing plant that had been part of the Gulag system of punishment. The place was huge and probably was home to around 6000 people, guards and prisoners, during the herring run seasons. This frightening but interesting place closed only after the herring had been fished out, probably in the 60s.
Who knows how many thousands of political and criminal prisoners or other "enemies of the state'' worked out their terrible sentences in this lonely factory. There was an eerie aura here as we contemplated the suffering probably endured here. The buildings were ramshackle and gradually collapsing, roofs already caved in, wails and windows persisting strangely. There were obvious dormitory facilities, lengthy processing buildings with an "assembly lines" look to them, other outbuildings of indeterminate use.
One of the faded signs identifying a particular structure was still intact and the Russian speakers among us translated it for us: Salting Building Number 8. Old Russian magazines and tabloids from the 40s, 50s, and 60s were still lying atop listing tables in the buildings that were dorms. The serious birders were thrilled with the signs of life that the avian world provided here in this sad place: snow buntings were the favorites. Sasha and Sergey watched carefully for large signs of life since there was considerable bear scat strewn among the wrecked buildings. There were piles of unused spools of wire, remnants of cranes and tractors looking like prehistoric creatures trapped in air instead of mud baths.
However, we were not lucky enough to see more bears and we would have liked to since there was little danger with so many of us on shore together. It was difficult to concentrate on birding for many of us because the atmosphere of this place and its brutal history were pervasive and overwhelming. Against an incongruously beautiful background of mountains, waterfalls, and a shapely bay, such cruelty and wanton destruction of both human and marine life. A sorrow truly "too deep for tears".
Chukotka Autonomous Okrug
Today we have reached the northernmost province of Siberia, Chukotka. We have left the Kamchatka Peninsula behind and are approaching the Arctic Circle and International Date Line. This is the area of Siberia where the Chukchi people originated and the majority of them now live.
ST. PETER BAY HIKE
And it’s Expedition Day! That means we explore by ship, looking for creatures, interesting sites, appropriate places for good hiking, unexpected surprises. Sailing up the northern coast of Kamchatka there were big swells on the ocean so the ship rocks a little but not enough to make anyone feel at all indisposed. However, because of the significant swell, the ship could not make the usual knot speed it does at night. Swells usually make for treacherous zodiac landings so the captain and expedition leader, Mike, looked for protected areas for us.
St. Peter, St. Paul and Natalia fjord system invited us in because St. Peter is sheltered from those ocean swells. The clouds are hanging low like flimsy stage scrim and they are beckoning us onward to hike promising they will part to reveal an exciting and handsome show for us--if only we will walk toward the mountains. We're hooked and elect to take the long hike with Shirley. Silly us turns out the route was mapped out by the Sergey, so we will be on his death march anyway.
In actuality, it was a fabulous hike and Shirley did walk slower than Sergey. Our goal was a mountain tarn ringed about with rugged mountains and pristine views. We walked through several strong and tumbling streams and definitely had wet feet as the waters are deeper than our boots are high. We proceeded through spongy tundra and scattered boulders.
The flowers were putting on a show; we were treated to the loveliness all along our path by tiny tundra roses, even smaller pincushion primrose, and miniature rhododendrons. Our way up was dicey because of the snowfields most of which seemed to me to slant precipitously towards steep and rocky fallaways. However, going down was even worse because of the slippery footing on snow. Sometimes, it was a little hard to rejoice in the surroundings because we had to carefully pick our way down. The cirque containing the half-frozen lake was extraordinarily picturesque and we were glad to have done the hike. However, now we had to turn around and go back to the shore. Thankfully, we did not choose the same route back so the perils were at least new!
On the way up, Shirley had found a tiny bird nest tucked up under a dwarf willow tree so low to the ground it looks like an espaliated bush. There were five miniature olive green eggs cushioned in the feather-lined nest.
As we were marching through the enormous scene on the way to shore, we could see a pod of walrus playing in the surf. There were about 10 of the improbable creatures rolling and spewing in the waves. They peeked at us like eager earthworms with their bumpy, acne-looking skin. Pink, amorphous and mustachioed with great bristles, it is difficult to discern anything terribly attractive in these enormous animals. But they are denizens of the Arctic and are relatively rare, so they have their charms. They also seem to have a sense of humor as they play among themselves; it was a great treat to see them.
ZODIAC CRUISE TO SEE WALRUS
An evening zodiac ride followed our enjoyable and challenging hike. And now we observed walrus by the tons as we followed them about in flimsy zodiacs. The naturalists counted about 350+ of the beasts and they were enjoying themselves in the icy water under the bright evening sunshine. We were now in Round Bay and the setting was just overpowering. We had mountains crowned by rocky cornices and green ocean water that produced a marvelous phenomenon in the sunlight. Light rays seemed to be blooming from under the water towards the surface from a point out of our sight in the depths.
We had a different experience of "nothing world'' during this evening. In our zodiac was a couple clearly annoyed with Bill (our driver) because he was not giving chase to the various pods of walrus, but instead standing off and watching from a distance.
The man muttered, "Why are we staying out here on the sidelines while all the other zodiacs are following the walrus? Why are we out here with "nothing" to see?"
Bill patiently and unflappably explained that the rules of wildlife observation require human observers to stand back from the animals, to avoid cornering them against rocks, mountain walls, or seashore and to refrain from anything resembling harassment. Therefore, he didn't care what the other zodiac drivers were doing; he was not going to pester the walrus! The man harrumphed in disgust and whispered loudly to his wife that he wished they were in another zodiac. However, Bill held his ground (or rather his position in the ocean waves) and assured the rest of us that his method of quietly observing from a distance would bring the curious walrus to us. Sure enough, he was absolutely right. Because we were sitting still in the water with no motor sounds, they made their way to us. Soon we had scores of walrus plunging, diving, surfacing, snorting, displaying their wonderful tusks, and peeking up at us, so close that we almost could touch their scrofulous-appearing skins. After a couple of hours of the most rewarding walrus watching, we all conspicuously thanked Bill for not chasing the animals and for affording us such a wonderful viewing opportunity.
Another one of these wonderful days that will just not end! After dinner with the delightful Scottish couple, I was in the shower when the PA system insistently announced that whales had been spotted. These were gray whales, species we had never seen. So, out of the shower in a flurry, and out on deck in pajamas with a Polartec jacket on top. There were 50+ whales in the small and very calm bay, feeding, spouting, arching their backs, but very seldom showing a fluke. Nonetheless, how more wonderful could this evening be?! Here we are in Far Eastern Arctic Russia at 10:30 PM watching whales all around us in the balmiest weather imaginable. My "modesty Polartec'' made me very much too warm! What an ending to an eventful day!
JULY 4TH CELEBRATION
What a place to be celebrating American freedom-right here in Siberia: to us, what we had come to regard as the very emblem of Soviet tyranny and evil. Here suffered the "criminals" of the Gulag, here the persecuted "small numbered peoples'' were robbed of their own cultures and traditions, and now those same people endure neglect and privation following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
And what did we do to remember our own struggle for freedom? We ate barbecue and all the trimmings outside under the brilliant sunlight beside the pool. While we partook of the fine cooking and beautiful weathers we were floating around among bergie bits. How odd; it was a very warm day and yet this was the first ice we had seen!
GABRIEL BAY CHUKCHI PEOPLES
It was into the zodiacs again in the afternoon for a cruise and landing at Gabriel Bay. That "expedition" yielded unexpected benefits: floating among pure white beluga whales, visiting with a Chukchi couple living a subsistence lifestyle, exploring an old
Soviet weather station, and enjoying a wonderful birding walk up-slope in my favorite Arctic-style scenery. Who could ask for anything more? Oh yes, I forgot, husky puppies to pet were also on the fun list!
The beluga whales were cavorting in the shallow waters of the lovely teal-colored bay, bringing particular delight to the naturalists who were surprised and even overjoyed to see so many of these rare whales in one place. Swimming and diving among the bergie bits, the whales looked like smooth ice chunks themselves. They are agile and fast and rolled and splashed in the waters so that we got good looks at them. Sometimes, the waters looked like they were roiling with whitecaps, but it was the backs and flanks of the belugas that were flashing in the sunlight.
Once on shore, we walked upland a little way, being respectful and hesitant since we saw that the house on the beach was clearly occupied. Salmon filets were hanging on a rack, drying a deep red in the sun. Then we saw the tiny Chukchi woman who was working among the fish. Our Russian speakers, George and Ron, approached her for
conversation. The pecan-shell brown lady was very willing to talk and answered their many questions. Both said her Russian was quite grammatical. She finally called her husband over to join the conversation, but he hung back saying very little except in answer to his wife's questions. He too had a deep brown-skinned face which showed that he lived in the elements.
The tiny lady, who appeared to be in her 50s, told us that they summered on Gabriel Bay so they could take advantage of the salmon run and get sufficient fish supplies for their winter months. Their rude shack had been placed on heavy steel runners and brought across the river beyond the beach during winter freeze-up, evidently pulled by their snowmobile. She said they hid the snowmobile during the summer across the river from their salmon encampment and disguised it with brush and sticks. We could not imagine who might come along to such a remote spot to steal it, but we are the visitors here. What do we know about the realities of this world? Their winter home is 200 kms. from Gabriel Bay. When asked, the lady said they no longer try to raise reindeer though they once had done so. The herds were decimated during Soviet times and they were unable to start over when the killing stopped.
The couple was dressed in heavy cotton clothing and hide boots and the lady wore a kerchief on her head. She did not appear shy and smiled and laughed easily. She seemed pleased to have new people to talk with though strangely enough, she asked no questions about us such as where had we come from, who were we, what nationalities and the like.
While we listened to the translations of her comments, we saw two young girls running along towards us from a house about 200 yards down the beach. They carried a bundle which they carefully placed on the ground and then opened up. There were the little husky puppies, quite young and still pretty helpless. Their mother was with the young girls who were quite attractive and well dressed. They looked about 7 and 11 years of age. The Chukchi lady told George that their mother is a widow who is doing the same thing that the couple is doing--catching, processing, and drying salmon for the winter. It sounded to us like their diet in winter is very monotonous. They do pick some blueberries and dry them as well to add some variety.
We left the friendly couple to their labors and went off with Mark to do some birding. We were rewarded with good sightings of the stunning snow buntings with their cheery and melodious calls and a mother white-fronted goose and her goslings on a kettle lake. We saw her "wounded" distraction behavior and watched her run in one direction while the chicks escaped us by heading opposite. They are handsome birds and we were pleased to see them but probably not as excited as the serious birder, Mark, who saluted them as old friends.
Another one of these perfect days in "nothing world". Actually, from one point of view, the Chukchi couple had almost nothing certainly very little comfort and no luxuries. But would they have described their lives and surroundings as "nothing world"? We all doubted it. They seemed industrious, full of good cheer, aware but uncomplaining about the difficulties in their lives, and probably content. They had food, housing, warmth and a certain security living in such isolation.
The lady's good Russian reminded us of the fad that the "small numbered people" had been treated like we Americans had treated our native populations. Children were taken away from their parents and sent to boarding schools to be educated. Their native languages were forbidden and they were required to learn and speak Russian. Their traditional customs were scorned and banned. Even their religious practices and the shamans who embodied their beliefs were outlawed. All this was somewhat reminiscent of the past history of our government's behavior towards our continent's Native American tribes.
The long, low sand spit where we spent the morning has a Russian name which is lost to me because it just was a collection of letters I could not begin to form into a word that I could remember. However, this area looked so totally different from anything we had visited before now, that it will live in memory without a distinctive name. There were no hills or mountains to be seen; the low land was mostly wet tundra, bogs lakes and even a stream running right to the ocean. There were no distinguishing landscape features to give direction, but there was no way to get lost because you could just follow the shoreline and see the ship in the distance. However, our two most enthusiastic birders, Mark and Peter, assured us that this was prime birding ground. More importantly, there was a chance to see the "spoon-billed sandpiper" - a true holy grail for birders.
TYMNA LAGOON BIRD WATCHING HIKE
We anchored offshore and climbed into the zodiacs for some serious birding. The mosquitoes that filled the air were ready for some serious dining. Trying to keep our eyes open only a slit, clamping our jaws shut, and wishing we had the ability of the walrus to close our nostrils, we searched madly in our packs for our head nets. Of course, they were black, tiny and almost weightless making it very easy for them to hide in the dark bottom of the pack. Before we went completely mad under the mosquito strafing attack, we finally dug them out, but not before our faces and arms were covered with black splotches where we had successfully swatted the dratted insects.
Mark and Peter were at pains to remind us all just how important these pesky creatures are to the bird life in the Arctic. Without the mosquitoes on the food chain, most of the animals here would not exist! That was cold comfort when we could barely see where we were going because of the continual black cloud before our eyes and when hearing was impaired because of the constant buzzing!
Though Peter and Mark were quite correct about this mosquito-plagued coast being a birder's paradise, we quickly learned the truth about ourselves. We are NOT serious birders! We quickly became bored with the tussock jumping, bog wading, deep stream crossing, lake skirting, and standing around trying to put ourselves in a mental zone where we would not notice our persistent, buzzing companions. And I mean the mosquitoes, not Mark and Peter! Anyway, we became totally NEMI - term the birders use for those who scorn the "quest" it means "Not Even Mildly Interested".
However, we kept on keeping on and tried to spot the tiny, flitting birds as well as the big emperor geese. We were assured that these were rare birds and how lucky we were to have seen them. We could see their large blondish heads among the reeds by one of the many lakes and they are certainly big birds--they weigh in at about 20 lbs. and yet they can still fly, even migrating over very large distances between their summer and winter homes.
Kay and I were relieved when it was announced that we had spent so much time on the sand spit in the morning that there would be no time for an afternoon or evening landing. Mark and Peter were certainly disappointed because they never did catch even a glimpse of the elusive spoon-billed sandpiper. But we were really pretty much "over" birding for one day anyway! Peter admitted later in the evening at Recap that the birders were still "spoonless in Siberia" and likely to remain so. However, he was pleased that we had seen the King Eider as well as the Emperor Geese and even the Northern Phalarope. So it had been a very successful day for everyone who was not NEMI. However, it was approaching "nothing world'' for those of us who had lost all enthusiasm due to persecution by mosquitoes, sore legs while bounding from soft tussock to wet bog, and soggy wet feet with smelly socks.
YTTYGRAN CHUKCHI BURIAL GROUNDS
Today promised a special experience - a visit to a UNESCO site, reputedly the most remote and difficult to get to in the world. We would be visiting Yttygran, a Chukchi burial place about 3000 years old. This evocative spot is on the shore of the Bering Sea. There is a whalebone "alley" created by standing whale ribs facing each other to create an effect rather like a military wedding when the soldiers hold their sabers up and touch tips for the bridal couple to walk beneath. In addition to the whalebone alley, huge vertebrae and jawbones line the low ridge facing the sea. It is hard to believe that these enormous bones actually fit inside a living animal: the bowhead whale. What a huge creature that whale is! Anthropologists believe that this site was originally a Chukchi whale-killing ground and that the peoples considered it sacred since they believed that the animals offer themselves to the humans for their sustenance. Therefore, they believed they must be respectfully grateful to the huge beast for its self-sacrifice. Many descendants of these peoples living today in both Russia and Alaska still maintain that belief. Later the site became even more sacred to these peoples and they used the ridges high above the shoreline for burials. A few folks climbed up the ridge to see some skeletons that have been extruded from the permafrost after many centuries.
This site is certainly an empty place today and so rarely visited by anyone that it is actually desolate. It epitomizes a "nothing world" now that the human presence is so remote. However, Mother Nature does abhor a vacuum and up on the hillsides and the ridges she has spilled her bounty everywhere: beautiful flowers wrapped the scene in color and life. Pika and outsized Arctic ground squirrels scampered among the tumbling rocks that have been cracked off the craggy rocks by freezing and melting waters. Several different kinds of grasses and tussock plants were scattered over the ground.
Mountains formed a ring around the site as well as the bay beyond. There was snow in the saddles and ice-falls on the steeper parts of the mountains. The sky overhead was cerulean and quite dazzling. The cold water in the bay took on that thick metallic look; the zodiacs appeared to be knifing their way through jello not completely set. Even the mosquitoes here were not as annoying or biting as they were at the sandspit yesterday. We got along well without our head nets.
The fragility of this empty human activity site was overwhelming. Nature was present here on such a grand scale that the pitiful human remains were sad and humbling. The Arctic is so large and so indifferent to human beings that their survival and persistence in such a world is both amazing and deeply evocative. Yttygran is a monument to the human spirit that endured at this place for many years; a presence that managed to leave some sign that it had once existed.
ARAKAMCHECHEN FOR WALRUS WATCHING
During the lunch hour, the ship moved to our next destination, Arakamchechen, where we were taken ashore for walrus watching. We had a leisurely 2 mile walk through a grassy but windswept environment to reach a bluff about 100 feet high over the beach. Before getting to the edge of the overlook, we had to get down on our hands and knees to crawl so that the walrus would not see our heads sticking up and become spooked. If they detected us, it was pretty sure that they would leave the haul-out and our viewing opportunity would be lost. It was fun to see us all exhibiting various styles of creeping, crawling, slithering, and bumping along to reach our "box seats".
As each person located an appropriate spot to lie down in the grass, still maintaining silence and low head positions, cameras and binoculars began to bristle like cannon through castle walls. Below our wondering eyes was a pod of about 80+ walrus, at play in the surf and gingerly testing the waters to see if this was a good haul-out spot for them.
We kept very quiet so as not to warn them of our presence. Gradually the big pink males began to haul themselves out of the surf onto the beach. Strangely enough, they would just sort of collapse as soon as they were clear of the waves and fall asleep. This action caused pile-ups among the creatures that followed. They were unable to reach the beach right behind the "pioneer" males and had to spread out on the sands around them. At first the younger males and the females were reluctant to do that and just kept pushing and shoving to no avail. The adult members of the pod would not allow the babies onto the beach at all.
The water was a light blue and there were lacy waves washing over the sands and the walrus. The beach actually looked quite tropical and palm trees would not have appeared out of place. Out beyond the shore, the ocean stretched away dark and cobalt blue. The walrus appeared quite content to be lying in the sun. One big fellow got on his back just at the surf line and proceeded to wriggle and squirm in an ecstasy of back scratching. He kept up this behavior for quite a long time and was obviously really enjoying it. Part of his pleasure probably resulted from satisfying the itch that molting produces in these creatures.
Beyond the shoreline, it was amusing to watch the baby walrus cruising up and down showing their little baby tusks. Many of the adults had missing tusks, broken tusks, uneven tusks; but when most of the adults were on the beach, their tusks made an interesting basket weave pattern since they tilted their heads in so many different directions while accommodating those really big "teeth". They would occasionally prong one another with the tusks trying to create more space for themselves by making others move out of the way. They feebly and ineffectually scratch at themselves with their huge flippers and they doze on their backs, on their tummies, and on their sides. One walrus was apparently dreaming since she slowly "waved" her front flipper back and forth, swimming through the air. There were some grunts and honks, but by sea lion standards, the walrus are a taciturn bunch.
We watched these wonderful creatures for about 2 hours before marching back across the island, marveling at the beautiful hills and mountains on all sides. There was an empty house on the highest point near the middle of the island. There was wallpaper in all four rooms of this rude cottage and it was no doubt a summer place since there was no chinking or caulking to keep out the wind and weather. There was trash about the place including plastic and wires. Soon nothing of all that would show when "nothing world'' is covered with a pure white blanket of snow.
ARCTIC CIRCLE & DATE LINE
Today we had the unique experience of being able to stand with one foot in today and the other in tomorrow we crossed the International Date Line and the Arctic Circle at the same moment. Of course, such a distinction had to be celebrated properly.
So we went up to the Bridge to witness this event. Mimosas were served and we got to watch the Ship's Engineer and the Cruise Director Apprentice leap into the frigid swimming pool that had been filled with icy seawater just for this ceremony. The brave but unfortunate pair were clad in their bathing suits and shivering in pale light (it was 8 degrees F and there was blue sky overhead). They were amazingly brief in their celebratory plunge as they leaped in holding hands and were out so fast it was all over in a blinding blur. They were like Wiley Coyote when he leaps over a cliff, thinks better of it, and claws his way through the air back to the verge. Laughing friends were waiting to swaddle them in terry cloth robes to prevent frostbite! Of course. we were all watching this misery like ancient Romans turning thumbs down on the gladiators that didn't please us! Poor Peter and Julie sacrificed to tradition and entertainment!
CAPE DEZHNEV BURIAL SITE AND RADIOACTIVE LIGHTHOUSE
We also had only this last day for landings in Russia. So we were pleased when we were able to get off around 9 AM at Cape Dezhnev, the easternmost point of the Asian continent. Once we climbed the 500 ft. bluffs to reach the 3000-year-old Chukchi ghost village, we were all puzzled and disappointed that UNESCO did not select this marvelous place as the Heritage Site rather than Yttygran.
First of all, the setting is much more impressive since it sits so high over the Chukchi Sea. Next, there is much more evidence of human habitation extant here. Third, the whalebone alley is longer and more complete with the ribs being in much better condition. There are ancient pit houses here, stone meat caches, and as many whale vertebrae sitting around as at Yttygran. Not only that, more modern structures sit here too shacks in dereliction with much wood graying under the Arctic Sun. Chukchi appear to have inhabited this site at least as long in ancient times and then also into a more modern era. Coupled with that there is the presence of a Russian lighthouse from 1955 with an old weather station nearby, still radioactive from batteries present for
running the equipment. That area was cordoned off with a square wire fence and radioactivity warning signs. This structure also serves as a monument to Vitus Bering.
There was a warm sun overhead with blue sky but we could see snow and ice at the shoreline on the easterly exposure. And it was so strange realizing that we were a mere 44 miles from Alaska across the Bering Strait when standing on this high hill. Birds and ground squirrels are the current residents of this many times abandoned site. Still, it was much more dramatic than Yttygran and we think that UNESCO missed the mark!
We took a zodiac cruise as we were leaving Cape Dezhnev so that we could see the huge cliff-faces up close. The colors of the formations and the layering testified to an even older time frame than the humans could claim in this part of Russia. There were pinks, mauves, yellower grays and greens in the rocks and bluffs. This "high up reared head'' is a marvelous way for the continent of Asia to denote its ultimate extent! We returned to the ship for lunch while the captain turned us back from this most northerly and easterly point in our Siberian exploration. Now we headed south towards
Provideniya where the Russian authorities required the ship to be "checked out" of its waders before heading to Alaska and the USA At 5:00 PM we went ashore for our last landing and our final opportunity to meet with the "small numbered peoples'' of Siberia - Lorino, a predominantly Chukchi village.
LORINO – ISOLATED & DESOLATE
This impossibly remote outpost of humanity contained about 1900 people, including about 30% European Russians. The Chukchi are a subsistence people again since the fall of the Soviet Union. About three years ago, Moscow started sending some of these folk a monthly pension which they unfortunately spend on 'vodka and stay drunk for as long as possible after that money arrives. We never did discover why they are entitled to the money. But there is very little to buy in Lorino, except liquors so the money is really more destructive than helpful.
Lorino is probably the most depressing place we have ever been (including in that comparison even Batopilas at the bottom of the Copper Canyon in upper Mexico).
The architecture is hideous concrete block, 3-4 story apartment buildings, all in terrible disrepair on their exteriors anyway (we never saw inside an apartment, probably a blessing).
The streets are only dark gravel lanes pocked by potholes. Some pitiful plants straggle here and there. Refuse lines some streets and ends others this is not so much garbage as waste materials like wire, plastic, rusting inoperable machinery, discarded carpet, worn-out furniture. Of course, what can the people do with such things-they can't dig a hole to bury it because of the permafrost.
The smell of urine and garbage is pervasive. It appears they just wait for the 8-9 months of winter to cover everything with the beneficence of snow! There is no color
in Lorino - everything is gray and black, except for two newer "stop sign'' yellow metal buildings. They stand out against the drab background and instead of lightening the gloom, they seem to intensify it! Drunken men of all ages sit on the front steps of the wretched apartment houses in postures of the most profound hopelessness.
The women seem less given to drink but they must oversee the children too. Amazingly enough, the many children seem happy and playful, as do children anywhere. They are well dressed and look well fed too. Perhaps there is hope in Lorino, and if there is, it must reside in the children.
To go from the shore of the Chukchi Sea up to their sad little town, the people can ascend a slippery sand slope with an angle of about 30 degree or walk more easily up on either one of two roads that cover more distance to lessen the angle of ascent. The children run up and down the slippery slope, falling, sliding, and laughing. Young adults also use that path on their way to watch the Chukchi dancing and singing, the dog sled runs and the Umiak (skin-boat) races out near shore.
Older folks take the longer routes. Surprisingly, the town produced a sound truck which broadcast the announcements from the little makeshift performance arena in Russian and Chukchi. Though the amplifiers were quite loud, the messages were garbled because of much "skipping" in the transmission.
Soldiers arrived on the scene in a truck marked with the World Wildlife panda logo and one of the buildings in the village had that same logo painted on a wall. No one seemed to know why, despite our Russian speakers' attempts to find out.
The presentation by the Chukchi may have been the most exuberant of all those we saw. The crowd of townspeople as well as those of us from the Clipper Odyssey could not fail to be moved by the sight of the grandmothers of these people beaming in pride and smiling in joy to see their youngsters performing with them. The children were enthusiastic dancers and singers and some kids, not involved in the actual performance, danced at the sidelines so it was clear they were learning the rhythms of their culture.
After the Chukchi concert, Kay and I wandered down the beach searching for the longer route up into the village (we did not want to become part of the entertainment for the Russians and Chukchi) but did not reach it before we became impatient and decided to try our own luck at climbing the slippery slope. It really was one step up and two back most of the time. The locals and particularly the children had no trouble at all.
Kay reached the top before me and was encouraging me to continue when a Chukchi lady of about 45 or 50 happened upon us. She saw my futile struggles and decided to help me. She came part way down to meet me and then encouraged me to grasp handfuls of the grasses which grew beside our path and she took my other hand to help pull me on up.
Well, that effort only produced gales of laughter from both of us as we both began slipping and sliding. She kept exhorting me with one word repeated over and over as though repetition would make me understand and become more successful in my efforts. Finally, I did reach the top and we laughed some more as the lady said her farewells. It was good that I helped a lady from that sad place laugh as heartily as she did. I doubt seriously there is much laughter, except among the children, in that part of "nothing world". It really provides the exemplification of the expression the "back of beyond".
Lorino was not a propitious place to end our landings in "nothing world'' because it seemed to substantiate the young girl's description of this part of Russia. However, the smiling faces of the Chukchi peoples and their warm welcome to us should be what we take away from that dispiriting visit to their hometown. Their spirits have not been crushed by the outer wretchedness of their lives. Perhaps it is the ongoing revival of their culture that has given them some measure of hope and happiness. However, that feeling evidently has not curbed the descent into despair and alcoholism among so many of the men. Our Russian representatives reported that many of the European Russians and the Chukchi women are also alcoholics.
Sea Day
This is where the trip gets really spooky! We actually spent TWO July 8s. The first one we spent on board the Clipper Odyssey clearing out of Russia in Provideniya. We occupied ourselves listening to lectures: the morning presentation was by Peter and it detailed with slides his life thus far: "Seven Years and Seven Continents". He is quite entertaining and has really lived an exciting existence so far. It is clear that this talk of his is a great favorite with the people who have traveled regularly with Zegrahm. In the afternoon, Mark discussed "Beringia" in all its aspects. His talk was interesting but much less spontaneous and personal than Peter's.
We also spent some time relaxing and getting our packing done so that we would be ready for the Captain's Farewell Dinner since we had been invited to join him and his other guests. It proved a congenial group and conversation was lively. A positive way to say "goodbye" to the good ship Clipper Odyssey. Strangely enough the major topic of conversation was hurricanes and how to prepare for them. The Captain lives in Miami when he is not on board.
Because we crossed the International Date Line again in the night, when we awoke in the harbor at Nome, Alaska, it was July 8 once more. The cruise director, Lynn Greig Frolov, is nothing if not organized so exiting the ship and spending some quality time in Nome was painless and interesting, as was getting to our Alaska Airlines flight back to Anchorage. Before that short flight, we had seen beach gold mining on the shores of the Arctic Ocean by intrepid individuals who used shore-based pumps to pull sand out of the ocean bottom up into their sluice boxes for "panning".
What makes this is an arduous task is the fact that they don dry suits and swim in the frigid waters so that they can place the hoses where they want them. So they are both surface swimming and diving and working underwater to be sure that they find promising spots to "mine".
We also got a tour of the little town that is indeed quite small. Though it is situated in terrain and climate that looks quite similar to Lorino, the differences were profound. The houses had color here, they were not derelict, no garbage or refuse was visible anywhere, the air smelled clean and sweet, people were employed (often with two or three jobs in the summertime), and the area was growing in population as well as in opportunity.
The one problem that is common to both places is alcohol abuse. Long winters without the sun, cabin fever, and constant cold obviously take their toll on people on both sides of the Bering Strait.
Our other visit was to a hopeful Iditarod musher - a transplanted young German fellow who has participated in the run a few times before but has yet to place among the top finishers. He apparently races his dogs full-time and his wife is the breadwinner. Nils Hahn is the name we want to watch for in next year's race because he feels that his dog team is going to make a good showing then. He was an enthusiastic fellow with lots of confidence in himself and his dogs. We hope that this first-time father comes out a champ in the big race! On the flight back to Anchorage, we tried to assess our reactions to our expedition in "nothing world" While we certainly found many fascinating, beautiful, dispiriting, and inspiring things in this remote part of the world, we also found that we were a little disappointed because Siberia didn't look like we had imagined it would. Actually, it was very similar in appearance to Alaska: impressive mountains, wet and dry tundra, similar animals, birds and plants, Arctic light pattern, permafrost, even similar native cultures.
The "Eskimo" peoples on each side of the Bering Strait share genetic, social, ethnographic, political, and spiritual inheritance and traditions. Certainly, the peoples call themselves by different names and see themselves as separate tribes or clans; but the similarities are too strong to be ignored. Despite the fact that our expectations were proved totally inaccurate, we did enjoy the trip mightily and felt privileged to have visited this isolated part of the globe. And while we understood a teenager's boredom, we did not agree with her description of Far East Russia as a "nothing world". Rather we found it full of beauty, interest, and education.
The birds and the animals were a delight and the human contacts meaningful and even profound. We had been told at our final Recap and Briefing that we had traveled 2600 statute miles (2381 nautical ones), seen 137 bird species including 37 seabird types, 25 waterfowl, 4 raptors, 19 shorebirds, and 52 passerine species. Only 18 mammal species had passed before our eyes but such wonderful ones they were! Most important, this is a real world where people struggle to survive in the severest kind of environment. Siberia is not a Disney World it is deadly serious.
Alaska
DENALI NATIONAL PARK
Kay and I did not end our trip with that flight to Anchorage from Nome. Instead, we started another adventure in Alaska. We spent the night of the 2nd July in a really third-rate motel near the airport and then got ourselves to the Egan Center in the middle of town to catch our van to Denali National Park at 7 AM. The van driver was a laid back fellow indeed and though he drove very fast, we were still on that shock-less vehicle for about 7 hours. The trip was complicated by the fact that one of our fellow van riders had cystitis and needed to stop every half-hour or so. We felt very sorry for her and Kay finally prevailed on her to take some Urasep. That drug really changed the rest of the trip for her and for us.
When we got to the McKinley Chalets, we discovered that there was "no room at the inn'' even though we had had our reservations for more than 6 months. A train derailment the day before had stranded people at the Chalets longer than they were
booked. But all was made right by moving us to Denali Bluffs Hotel down the main drag a bit. It was smaller and cheaper but perfectly acceptable.
On July 10, we took the park bus into Denali out to the Toklot River at a cost of about $26.00 each, but it was worth every penny since we saw all the animals we would have hoped to see grizzlies, caribou, moose, Dall Sheep, and ground squirrels.
The weather was fine but Denali himself did not show his face to us. We were surprised to see that the Eielson Center is now closed for repairs and renovations or replacement. But nothing has been started yet.
CAMP DENALI
On the 11th we were picked up at the Train Depot by the Camp Denali bus along with the folks going to North Face Lodge on their bus. These vehicles are modern Blue Birds rather than the old Mercedes bus we rode on our 1st and 2nd visits. Much more
comfortable since they are bigger. However, they are not as maneuverable according to Simon, the son-in-law of the owners, driver on our bus, and heir to the property.
Our ride out was fabulous! To the list of things we had seen yesterday, we added a wolf, foxes, gyrfalcon and chicks, golden eagle feeding her chicks, beaver, and pika, snowshoe hares which we had never seen before, plus many more of the others we had seen before.
Camp Denali looks the same except that a couple of new cabins have been added, including the one we were assigned: Discovery.
More comfortable than old Paystreak where we had been before because it had running water and a lavatory. However, we paid for that convenience with a trade-off on outhouse placement. Rather than a simple short stroll to the "potty" at Discovery we practically had to belay down a very steep hill to reach "paydirt". Thank goodness, it never was really dark or that trip down would have been really treacherous. It was steep and slippery anyway.
The activity center was the same as was the dining room. The shower rooms had been modernized and actually provided hot water - a major improvement. The routine was the same as well: breakfast and supper together with seating that changed at each meal. Lunch items appeared about 20 minutes after breakfast and everyone chose what he wanted for that meal: there were sandwich fixings, lettuce and tomato, fruit and cookies.
As usual, the meals were quite good and we enjoyed them all, despite some carping by some of our fellow campers. Every day a choice of three types of outdoor activities with guides was offered: 1) a naturalist foray which was the easiest of the walks, usually in a van with a minimum of walking about 2) medium walk: the best of the lot for us since it allowed some good leg stretching with time to see and learn and take pictures in the areas we explored, and 3) the long walk which was the most strenuous and tended to be on the fly'' so that there was little time for anything other than moving out fast. In addition, individual activities were available as well: canoeing, biking, hiking.
During our various hikes at Camp Denali, we saw more grizzly bears than ever before-at least 30, many of them sows with cubs. One of our biggest delights was seeing a mother with two current year cubs on a low ridge very near the Eielson Center where we stood for a long time just observing them interact.
The best part of all was when the sow rolled over on her side and nursed the cubs. That was really special. All the bears in this area were very blonde, many shades lighter than the Russian Brown Bears. We also were lucky enough to see other different family groupings: caribou, Dall sheep, and red foxes.
Best of all, on our last two days, Denali woke up, shrugged off his cloudy bedclothes, and greeted the sun in all his glory! Everyone was just ecstatic and the cameras were smoking! We did not see alpenglow as intensely as we had on our earlier trip, but the whole experience is still just marvelous.
Another miraculous happening occurred on our last full day. We were enjoying our cabin porch in the afternoon when suddenly a "least weasel'' appeared on the path right at our feet. In his little mouth he had a red-backed vole for his supper. What a cute and speedy creature he is! He was as startled to see us on the porch as we were to see him so close. There was almost no time to register his appearance before he was skittering away down the path to disappear into the blueberry bushes! What a treat!
After taking the terrible van back to Anchorage (sans the cystitis lady), we decided to rent a car to explore some other areas around Anchorage we had not seen. However two things must be noted about the van ride: 1) the smoke from the forest fire on the Kenai Peninsula was terribly thick the closer we got to Anchorage and gradually cleared as we arrived. However, earlier in the day while we were traveling, the city had been really engulfed in the smoke and people were told to take health precautions by staying indoors and 2) we discovered that our overtly Type B van driver was a very interesting fellow indeed. Like so many other Alaskans we have met previously, he is a big reader and he reads so widely; i.e. at present he was reading the autobiography of the Nobelist who is under house arrest in Myanmar. He spends 4-6 months in Southeast Asia after working 7 days a week during the 18 weeks of summer in Alaska.
VISIT TO WHITTIER, SEWARD & HOME
We picked up the car early in the morning on the 16th and drove to Whittier entering through the train tunnel that has been adapted for use by autos and trains. What a strange little city that one is! Built by the US Government in World War II it has a couple of large buildings and the other currently in use by all the people who reside in Whittier. A school is connected by tunnel to this apartment building and there are a few free-standing businesses such as the Anchor Inn and the grocery store as well as the marina office, kiosks for Prince William Sound tours and the like. When we left Whittier, we tried to see as much of the Anchorage's Chugach State Park as we could. We hiked several short trails and were pleased to see two female moose grazing below us as we looked down-so close to town. A pair of red foxes played in a denning hole. Later as we were driving along, we saw a mother moose and her calves. Hard to believe that this state park is in Anchorage's city limits!
The next day, we drove down the Kenai Peninsula as far as Seward and enjoyed seeing this lovely area full of mountains, meadows and very little smoke (we were grateful).
There were lots of little towns on the way to Seward which sits at the southeast end of the Peninsula. The bay was beautiful and blue with lots of sailboats and their crews enjoying the lovely day and mild weather. We enjoyed our own exploring very much and were glad to be on our own.
And then it was over,
We had 7 hours to spend in the DFW airport and then flew home to Jacksonville at around 4:30 PM. We had escaped from Siberia and home from Alaska!
