January 12, 2020

Homer, Alaska

January is coming to a close and we are feeling the depths of winter. We have had weeks of serious cold, several blizzards, iced roads and the harbor has frozen. Tumbleweed has been surrounded by ice into place for the past several weeks, with a small gap at water line, enough to rock gently in the breeze or tap against when the winds pick up. Our daily routine revolves around keeping Tumbleweed warm and dry. It is a bit of a hodge-podge set of tasks living in this environment but we are sorting out an approach and enjoying the challenges of spending the winter this far north.

Homer has been a good place for us to spend the winter and we have few regrets in choosing to stay here, we’ve made good friends and enjoy this community. The kindness and generosity we experienced as we made our way east from Dutch Harbor has continued. It is also a beautiful place with the mountains across Kachemak bay providing a varied daily show of stunning landscape and clouds. Though we are somewhat isolated out here in the harbor, it is 3 miles from the harbor to the shore and another 3 to the grocery store, we love that we can walk on the beach. Sea otters swim and play in the harbor around the boat, even with the ice they lounge at the surface, cracking shells on their stomachs, splashing and diving in complete disregard of the elements. Several times we’ve heard bubbles against the hull that we think are from a seal, there are several that live in the harbor and pop their heads up to stare at us with their eerie, vacant eyes.

Few fishermen still head out into the bay at this time of year. Bundled up against the cold head they out to sea even when it’s snowing and when they have to work their boats against the ice, bashing out a path from their slip to the main channel. Mostly the small boats have given in to the elements, when the ice was less thick a small boat near us would sit with the engine in reverse for 30 minutes or so, sending a flow of water astern to break up the ice and then clear a path out, banging into the ice and making a channel. The skipper did that for a week then hauled his boat out. Larger boats still make their way to sea but the sinking of the Scandies Rose on New Year’s Eve in nearby Shelikof Strait was sobering news. The 130 foot fishing boat sank after icing up. To think that people are working at sea, in these conditions is humbling.

I expected to be isolated out in the harbor and that we would need to deal with snow and ice. I confess I was lulled into a fantasy that winter this year would be warmer, that because this past summer was so warm and that the past few winters have been warm, that we would deal mostly with rain and lack of sunshine. But this winter has proved to be one of the coldest in recent memory, according to locals. It was a sudden, rude snap, from days in the mid-40s to dropping overnight to 8 degrees. Going outside can be painful, our walks down the spit or along the beach temporarily abandoned.

Tumbleweed to the left, the harbor iced up an hour before another snowstorm hit.

Winters living aboard in Port Townsend taught us that humidity on board in winter can be a battle. We bought a dehumidifier shortly after we arrived and run it almost constantly, pulling over a gallon of water out of the air each day. Two small space heaters, one fore, under the salon table, the other aft, in the head directed into the engine compartment, keep the chill off. Our Webasto forced air diesel heater keeps the temperatures in the high 60’s. We were in the habit of sleeping with only the small space heaters on at night and for a few mornings woke to a toasty vee berth but a cold cabin, usually around 48 degrees first thing in the morning. We added two more low watt space heaters to the mix, more to keep the engine and genset compartments above freezing, they are like beige spaceships and keep areas from freezing but not really warm the boat. If we leave for a few hours we keep only the space heaters running and return to find the boat has dropped to the low 50’s and it will take many hours to get warmed back up. Our neighbors further out on the dock heat their boat with a wood stove so I feel like a wimp to complain about keeping the boat warm.

The short days of winter have been something to adjust to, we are far north of Seattle here at 59 degrees. At this time of year the sun hides behind the Kenai mountains to the south until after 10, then slowly begins to set a glow across the sky before it lifts nominally above the range and begins its westward crawl toward sunset, where sometime not too long after 4 in the afternoon it dips down to the sea and extinguishes itself with a lengthy expiration. When we experience a full moon the path it takes is strikingly different, rising up near the head of the bay and crossing far north of the sun’s path. I would like to be here for summer when the sun is up nearly all day and it arcs a path north and is rumored to hide for only a couple of hours in the earliest hours of the morning.

The beach along the spit at the end of January.

Winter weather held off until late December, we had mild temperatures and a couple of light frosts until then. Locals told us that previous winters had been mild, we made a half hearted effort to add warm clothes to our south pacific wardrobe, but didn’t really prepare for the cold. As the temperature dropped we left the hatches uncovered on the inside so that condensation began to build up layers of ice until the cabin would warm and then the ice would transform into drips that seemed to hunt for our exposed necks or electronics. We finally have sealed all our hatches from the inside with clear plastic and had a warm day where everything warmed up outside to the point where we could thoroughly defrost the hatches and reseal everything nice and dry. It makes a big difference and we should have listened to friends and sealed the hatches earlier.

The entrance to the harbor can be choked with ice depending on the wind direction.

Once the temperatures dipped we also lost the use of our water maker. It had been limping along the past couple of months, leaking water under pressure, but it continued to work until the harbor began to freeze and the intake hose choked with ice. We closed the through hull, drained the line and have reverted to bringing water from shore down the ramp to fill our tanks. It does force us to conserve water and gives us a daily mini work out but I don’t see many other upsides. The water maker needs an overhaul. We have the replacement parts but have been hesitant to dive into pulling it apart because it has at least been working, although we need to clean up a bit of water after each session. It might be best to ship it off for repairs now so that we can use it as we head south in the spring.

Ice helps to reduce barnacles on the waterline.

These are really just minor grumblings and complaints. We are grateful to be in such a beautiful spot and to have the time to enjoy being this close to nature. The wind howling through the rigging and pace of village life, our time walking the beaches and watching the wildlife around us. Spring is approaching and soon enough we will be working our way south, for the time being we are enjoying this chapter of our adventure. Each day we get 4 minutes more sunshine and we are noticing the longer days.

Enjoying a mid winter beach stroll with Douglas.

As I was finishing this journal entry I learned that my Uncle Mike had passed away. He had been a big fan of our adventure and we kept up a correspondence during the trip. He was one of the most intelligent, interesting, kind people I’ve known. He was a writer and had a profound creative influence on my life. I am saddened that he has passed on, I will miss our letters back and forth, his book recommendations and creative insights. He was also the last of the Henrys from my father’s era and with him goes a whole library of information and history on part of my family.