About Jack & Barbra Donachy

Writers, photographers, food lovers, anglers, travelers and students of poetry

Shades of Blue

Posted on October 31, 2010 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

In the summer of 2009, we drove over 3200 miles to arrive in Valdez. We were hoping to make it in time for a half-marathon in Cordova, Alaska. It took us six days to drive from Sacramento, through Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Yukon Territory and finally through Alaska to Valdez. We drove hundreds of miles per day fueled by eagerness and the energy we absorbed from the incredibly beautiful drive and the daylight that lasted till late at night. The last leg of our journey was the 90 boat trip from Valdez to Cordova.

That sounds pretty doable, right? Never mind that we had just towed our boat behind our truck for all these miles. Never mind that our boat had only about 10 hours on the engine. 10 hours? Yes, Jack and I had taken the boat out of Bodega Bay into the great Pacific a sum total of two times.

We spent the night in the long term boat and trailer parking lot in Valdez. We had prepared the boat, the Gillie, for her journey. We filled her tanks. We scrubbed her down. We loaded her with all that we thought we would need to camp on her for a few days in Cordova. We woke early. She was launched pretty smoothly about 7 a.m. The water was flat. The weather calm and overcast. The further we were from Valdez, the more relaxed we became.

Being very new to boating with the Gillie, we constantly checked guages and our electronics to ensure that all was running smoothly. The main outboard engine was monitored to ensure that it was staying cool.

Ten miles away from Valdez, Jack noticed that the cooling stream from the outboard motor was slowing. It was not “pissing” as it should. Uh oh. We knew we had to shut off the engine and let it cool. Fortunately, we still had cell phone reception. I called the harbor master in Valdez to find out who could work on an outboard motor. Hmmm… no one. Yikes! Now what?

We have an 8 horsepower kicker that runs separately from the main outboard. We started that motor and limped back to Valdez to regroup.

Jack thought to call the motor shop in Sacramento to see if they had any advice. The guy who answered the phone suggested running something long and skinny up the exhaust to see if we could clear it. We found a long zip tie that fit perfectly. After a few pokes and a hard blow on the other end, small stones and dead bugs that had collected on the road spilled out. And then came the clear, strong flow of the cooling water. Thank you to Buck’s Outboard!

It was about noon at this time. The water was no longer flat. The wind had increased a few knots. Should we stay and miss the deadline? Should we go for it?

We went for it.

After we passed the place where we had turned back the first time out, we came to a finger of Prince William Sound which ran up as far as the Columbia Glacier. Someday I hope to see this glacier up close. Floating down from this finger where these beautiful sculptures of ice. The blues in the icebergs were amazing. They calmly floated away from the glacier carrying gulls and kittiwakes. The icebergs have these organic shapes that are captivating. The safe arrival in Cordova that evening should have been reward enough. The icebergs were the real reward.

I do enjoy long walks on the beach.

Posted on October 23, 2010 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

An October snow blankets the beach on Sarichef Island. The sea is still open. For now.

I remember my family taking me to the beach when I was very young. I loved the feeling of the warm sand on my feet and the gentle, salt-scented breeze on my face. I especially loved the energy I felt from the crashing waves. Sometimes when we had to go home, when we had to leave the beach, I would cry. Now, my home is a two-minute walk from the beach. Even though we’re only 22 miles south of the Arctic Circle, in late summer the days were surprisingly warm. Temperature weren’t much different from those on beaches in Northern California or Oregon.

But that was two months ago. Soon, the sea will freeze. On our daily walks along the shore, we notice patches of ice on the sand, and the near-shore water where it is most shallow is slushy at times. Most of the shorebirds are gone now.

Shishmaref 2010

Posted on September 17, 2010 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

Golden tufts of grass offer a tell-tale that Shishmaref’s short summer has ended. In another two months, Main Street (shown here) will be covered in snow and snow mobiles, which are locally referred to as snow machines, will replace the few trucks as means of transportation. The ATV’s, known universally as Hondas in the Alaskan Bush, are pressed into service the year around.

We spent this last summer traveling and moving from California to Alaska. I had promised to start a blog when we finally settled in. With this promise in mind, I contemplated… “Where do I start?”

Where did the adventure of Alaska begin for me? There was the decision to apply for jobs in the bush. No, it was before that. The beginning started during our 42 day adventure to Alaska and back in the summer of 2009. Actually, that was not really the beginning. Before our trip, Jack and I planned and dreamed about spending a summer in Alaska for three years before our trip. We poured over maps. We read everything we could get a hold of about camping and fishing and roaming around Alaska. We subscribed to magazines. We checked anything and everything on the internet that seemed relevant. I would read a book and Jack would read a different one and then we would trade.We had no boundaries. It could be a boating trip. Maybe a car camping trip. Time limits would not hold us back. We could spend a summer. A whole year was not out of the question. The rule was no rules. We had a huge map of Alaska tacked up on foam board so we could pin ideas onto the map. It was exhilarating and revitalizing to research and plan this adventure.

When we finally had outlined our timeline and itinerary of our trip, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep. Was that the beginning?

I thought about my personality. An Alaskan adventure was a metaphor of something true to my core. I have always wanted to be on the road and have always wanted to be outside where most people haven’t been. So the beginning has always been there in seed form. It was just a matter of nurturing the seed and bringing it fully to life.

When we flew into Shishmaref this summer and I saw Shishmaref from the co-pilot’s window from where I was sitting…tears came to me eyes. I inhaled a deep breath and thought…this is the beginning.