And So The Next And Final Stage

Leaving Seward tomorrow Friday 11 July. Where has all the time gone?

It's a wet and windy forecast for the next few days. I was joking the other day, just joking right, that the next 17 days until we board the ferry south in Whittier are pay back time for all the brilliant crystal sunny weather we've had much of the time since we left Ketchikan on May 28. It's going to rain constantly for all the rest of our time here. 

Just like it has for our couple of days in Seward. And just like we were expecting before we arrived in Alaska.

To be realistic it is quite possible for it to rain pretty much constantly for the rest of our paddling time. Bob in Juneau who took us to the Mendenhall Glacier was telling us of the record rainfall at Port Walter on Baranof Island. 200" in a month. No joke, no exaggeration that's 3" a day every day for a whole month. 

We treated our selves to a delicious full cooked breakfast this morning in a lovely cafe in downtown Seward and confirmed as we watched the world go by from our window outlook that you can tell the locals and tourists apart from hundreds of meters away. 

It's absolutely pissing with rain right, gutters and awnings are cascades of drips, the streets are running with rivulets of water. 

The tourists are hunched, scowling, flinching away from it, hoods up, waterproof trousers on, pack covers on, plastic capes flapping, umbrellas too, anything to keep the incessant droplets at bay. 

The locals? Well you might spot the odd one with a waterproof jacket but whether it's a t shirt and shorts worn by that shop owner across the road or the pretty young women just opening the health food store in trendy boots, jeans, nice knitted jumper and a scarf it might as well not be raining at all. It's just a normal day in Seward. They're just going about their lives as if there is nothing unusual about a bit of rain, as of course in this part of the world, there isn't. 

I've gone Alaskan, though only while here in Seward, Lynne is playing tourist wearing her plastic mac, hood up and all. Here in Seward you know you'll dry out once indoors as quickly as you just got wet. Out there when paddling I play the tourist, paranoid about keeping dry clothes dry with strict demarkation between wet and dry. Dry clothes are gold, dry clothes keep you warm, in the tent, under the tarp. On the wet side of the demarkation, damp thermals and drysuits keep you warm. One never ever crosses over into the others territory. 

Overall though, over an extended period the dampness will inevitably win, at least a few battles but hopefully not the war itself. Anything dry in this ever damp environment will naturally absorb some moisture even though it is not noticeable straight away. Our sleeping bags, which are well over in the dry side of that demarkation aren't as fluffy as they should be, the metal parts of the zips even show faint signs of salt water corrosion despite them either being in their waterproof bag or inside the tent. The damp and salty air though has inevitably worked its way in. 

Time indoors in our cosy hostel room is a respite from this for a couple of nights. 

Off this morning, Friday, with about 10 days food to get us to Cordova on the eastern side of Prince William Sound. There'll be a bit more of a food stock up there to get us back to Whittier and the ferry south.