The clement winters make the plan
feasible, and it ought not to be an expensive experiment.
[Illustration: A KADIAK EAGLE.]
We had a very bad time of it on the night of April 30, which showed me
what I had long felt, that the dangers of Kadiak were not centered in
the bear, but in the tremendous wind blows and tide rips in its
fjords. A strong wind came on from the east, and fairly howled through
the ravine opposite our anchorage, catching our little sloop with full
force. We could not change our position, as we occupied the only
anchorage. Vacille, who had turned in, felt the anchor dragging, and we
found ourselves being blown out into the large bay, where we could not
have lived for any time in the big seas, and, should we continue to
drag, our only chance was to try to beach her on a sand shore some half
mile away.
When the boat was not dragging she was wallowing in cross seas, and
being hammered by the otter boat, which was difficult to manage. The
anchors held firmly, much to our relief, and after a disagreeable night
of watching we beat back to our mooring at the head of the little
cove.
Pages:
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279