379.....This is the long version of the Yukon trip. It was originally a letter to my family. I am going to leave it in that form as it will give you and others a taste of what it is like up here outside of Los Anchorage.
August 7, 2000
Wow, what a summer. Most of you I have not been in contact with since I left Shaktoolik. It has been interesting on my part to say the least. My move to _______ went smoothly enough, at least the stop in Anchorage was.
As we arrived in ________ I knew right off that the label "good village" had been highly exaggerated. The first hint was f--k scribbled on a building wall; something I had never seen in any village before. In two weeks, my mail was stolen, I was called all kinds of profanities, had fish heads rubbed in Loomis's face, dirty fish hands wiped on me, could not leave my place because the kids were waiting to break in, watched kids sniff fumes, and a whole lot more. By the time I started having chest pains from the stress I said goodbye, packed my stuff and left.
I arrived in Anchorage broke and had to wait two weeks for all of my belongings to follow me and catch up. Loomis my dog and I lived in the truck, as it was tourist season and no one takes dogs and I could not afford tourist prices. We had camping gear, $300 worth of food and a dry roof over our head. In about two weeks all of my stuff showed up and at least we could move around. I stored most of my belongings in my new boat under a trap and the remainder in the truck. Still broke, I had a two-week wait until my paycheck from the last school district would hit the direct deposit. The credit card had money on it for gas so Loomis and I headed down to the Kenai Peninsula and camped at all of the free places that we could find for about a week. We did well and managed to fish, pan for gold (found some) and explored the whole peninsula. My other problem was to find another job. With no phone, limited e-mail and no address this was going to be a problem. While in the Kenai I did find one position open but it was only part time in a little coastal community. On July the 22nd I was almost shot in a cop/bank get-away chase as the robbers sped four feet away from me and tried to shoot the policemen in chase with me in between. I left New York for this!
It was time to make a move, either back to New York for the winter or north to Fairbanks to the Alaska Teacher Placement Center. Since I had not seen Denali from the ground I opted for north instead of east. The placement center had little to offer since it was the end of the hiring season. They tried to get me into one village but the school had just finished interviewing a young couple and hired them. No jobs left! Or, at least none that I would consider! A friend found me in Fairbanks and offered me his cabin down near Delta Junction if I needed it. Alaska is such a small place! With only one possibility left, I stopped over at the Yukon Koyuk School District since their headquarters were located right in Fairbanks. I walked in - no shower in 3 days, tennis shoes, jeans and a T-shirt. They said that I was exactly what they were looking for! They offered me a hotel, couldn't do that with Loomis though. So I slept in their parking lot for a week preparing for my trip to Nulato, my new village.
Our Trip-
Since I had purchased a boat and motor for Akiak, I really wanted to have the boat in the new village. I had been trailering this 17-foot Lowe Roughneck boat and 30 h.p. Honda motor for several hundred miles without ever putting it in the water. So I spent the week buying maps, inquiring into the trip and preparing the boat. On July the 17th at 11:00 a.m. Loomis and I left Fairbanks via the Chena River and headed to Nulato. I figured that it would take us about seven days at least to get there. It was only about 350 miles by the river system! The Chena River was a smooth trip, a quiet gentle flowing river with a mild temperament. I reached the Tanana River quicker than I thought and was surprised at what I saw. The river was flooded, the riverbanks difficult to distinguish and debris in the water. We pulled out gently once and headed back to the Chena. I circled once more, pondering what to do. I don't know why, but I pulled the boat back into the Tanana and headed down river. I used only enough power to move the boat around and let the river do the forward motion. This was not going to be fun. I placed the motor in the shallow run position to give us more draft. A good decision when you don't really need full power and have no idea how deep the water was. I found out latter on when I wanted to switch riverbanks that even with full power I could not go back up stream. I was committed to one direction, down stream.
The Tanana changes its course every year and it was difficult to tell where to go. As soon as I picked out what I thought was the main channel the river would switch. Toss in some floating trees and limbs and you have the makings of a great time. I cut a push pole to help get us off of the sandbars the first day as well as a "sounding stick" to help me determine the water depth when working my way across river. These aids as well as my binoculars proved to be worth their weight in gold. With the binoculars I could look ahead and tell far enough in advance when the river was going to switch banks on me again. The first day I messed up once, planting us firmly on a sandbar as it started to rain. Loomis doesn't think that I should get out of the boat without him, but at times I had to push. We managed to make it all the way to the village of Nenana the first day, which I thought was an excellent, day’s run.
We slept on the riverbank amongst the moose tracks and the mosquitoes. It was a quiet and peaceful night. We had only seen one other person on the river that day would see one person tomorrow and no one for the next two days.
Day two proved to be as interesting as day one if not more difficult reading the river. The Tanana is a wide river, one half to three-quarters of a mile wide at times. This section was as flooded as the first and we were going to have another fun day of running the river. After a while we figured out that if I stayed to the taller riverbanks and swifter currents I could do all right. But, you could not be too close to shore because of the fallen tress in the river caused by the flooding conditions. Then, about the time you have it figured out the river changes. On day two I got suckered into the wrong side and before I knew it was surrounded by trees in the water and sandbars all around. Going back up river was a difficult option. Even so I had not noticed a place where I could switch riverbanks without traversing through a group of downed trees. Stuck! Now I had too little water to make any forward motion and could not go back. There was enough water volume that I figured that there must be a way through. I poled the boat, pushed and pulled until I found a narrow channel deep enough for the boat to float without me in it. As in the Amazon Queen I pulled the boat along for about 100 yards until Loomis, stupidly fell in over his head, which meant that I had enough water. I floated with the motor up for another half mile or so before we could use the motor again.
At another point as I was going along I suddenly noticed that the river was flowing in the wrong direction? Which meant that I either missed the junction with the Yukon or the laws of physics had changed. Now I was confused! After a minute I realized that I had come upon a huge eddy and in fact the river was going in the wrong direction along the shore. I headed back in my original direction and found out the reason for the confusion. Another sandbar planted firmly under the boat!
The water was boiling all around me most of the time so trying to see anything such as the sandbars and underwater trees was out of the question. Besides the water was as thick as a thin chocolate milk shake and nothing could be seen through the water. At times underwater springs added to the confusion, making you think that something was causing an underwater disturbance. Watching the waters surface it would all of a sudden just boil up. No rhyme or reasons just boil. After a bit this fascinated me and I could only surmise that these were under water springs, building up pressure and suddenly spurting their load to the surface. Usually a rock, tree or sandbar would give itself away with ripples on the surface. But the boiling water gave away few secrets.
Another night spent on the riverbank. Loomis soon learned that the tent was a safe haven away from the mosquitoes. He was quite patient about waiting for me to erect the tent every night and even patient enough to wait inside for me to do the nightly chores. Each evening I topped of the gas tank (we carried 28 gallons of gas) and checked the motor. Then it was time to double check the two ropes that I tied the boat to shore with, make sure I had toilet paper and my .44 magnum pistol in the tent with us. We did not see any bears and only one wolf but there were sure enough tracks around. If we stopped somewhere and I didn't like the bear sign we would move on. The .44 magnum pistol and my life vest were my constant companions as was Loomis.
I am going to buy a GPS one of the days. Traveling by BSP (By the Seat of your Pants) is not that good of a way to do things. On day two I thought that we had made it almost to the Yukon River. The mountains looked right on the map, the islands matched up and the landmarks looked right. Nope! It would take us another whole day to reach the Yukon River. I had typographical maps but the terrain looked so much alike it was difficult to tell where you were. Also, the VHF radio that I took along to communicate with if I needed too? No one uses them here; I had no contact on any of the five days from the radio. I could not even contact one aircraft of which I had been able to do so in the other villages if need be. We were quite alone and there was no one here to help if we needed it.
Day three was much like day two. We did our best to negotiate the river, getting fooled once in a while but made no major errors. I had thought that today we would reach the Yukon but had gravely misread the map. Even so the river was beautiful and the terrain was stunning. I felt better about the trip but will admit that at times even to this point I was a bit scared and had thought that I had taken on too much of an adventure. We trudged along concentrating on the river; errors could happen in seconds and would be costly.
About the time that I thought I had missed the village of Tanana and the Yukon I ran came upon two boats heading up river. I flagged them down and they were quite willing to assist me with directions. I was actually only twenty minutes from Tanana and the Yukon River. With that in mind and information that the gas pump was already closed, I found a place to camp for the night. Heaven it wasn't! I have never seen so many mosquitoes in my life, unreal! Even Loomis, unusually not tormented was easily upset. By this time in the trip he had also learned that he could poke his head in between the sleeping bag and cover his face for the night. He is pretty smart cookie even opting to ride on the bow of the boat to avoid the bugs in the wind created by the boats speed.
The mighty Yukon looked placid compared to the Tanana. I wish that I could have floated it a bit but had another destination in mind. I think back to the gold miners that traveled these same rivers in hand-made boats. It must have taken tremendous courage or a great desire for gold.
In Tanana I took on 16 gallons of fuel, some snacks and a bit of river knowledge. I wish I had taken on more river knowledge because now with the rivers combining the marriage of the two created a river now over a mile wide at times. Sandbars now turned into gravel bars. Just ask my propeller, or the parts of it I left on the Yukon. My fault, it was windy with a chop on the surface and I just did not see it. We pulled into shore to make the prop change and to take a break. Just about the time I was done with the repairs Loomis alerted me to something in the bushes. When his hair stands up and he starts to growl I listen. I unsnapped the .44 and got ready for the unexpected. Since I was done with the repairs I gathered him up, untied the boat and left as abruptly possible. Nothing ever appeared, but I love Loomis and he, I. I am sure that he would defend me if need be, I just don't want to loose him for something that I could avoid. Another gravel bar was soon ahead but I had a few seconds notice and we floated over it with the motor pulled up checking our depth as we went until deeper water could be reached. We found an island, one of my favorite places to camp, and pulled in for the night. It rained all night so we slept until almost noon waiting for better weather.
Today we would make Ruby for sure. We purchased our last ten gallons of gas there not knowing how much we would need or where we might be stopping next.
No store here and nowhere to purchase propellers so we moved on without taking in any sights (As if there were any!). Galena was our next town and here we stopped to take on doughnuts, candy bars and some lunchmeat. I was informed that Nalato was not too far away and so we headed out. The Yukon was still a wide running river but lost was the ferocity of the Tanana and most of the silt in the water. We ran faster here, watching other boats as the river traffic picked up and I could follow in their wakes down the river. The Yukon has some tricks of its' own but we were able to avoid any more gravel bars. At one time we were a bit confused as the tree line all around the river looked the same and I could not tell where we were. Waiting for a minute I noticed some debris in the water and followed it down river. We pulled into Nulato by 3:30 p.m. on Saturday the trip taking five days.
Sincerely, Dave and Loomis
