The entrance into the anchorage looked exceptionally sketchy, with no soundings and a few sizable rocks, but we had little choice and we plowed ahead with Jess on the bow scanning for rocks in the gather darkness and me watching the depth sounder from the helm. We made it through a little pass just as the wind began to die off and finally got the hook down about an hour after sunset. It was a stressful evening, but luckily the Rascal pulled through nicely and we made a big mussel dinner (garlic butter wine sauce? Why not?) to recharge our batteries before bed.
The next day had more south winds predicted, so we decided to take advantage of the sunshine to dry out the boat and do some exploring. A beautiful sunrise greeted us in stark contrast to the previous night's foul weather.
The day wore on, and a little while before sunset, we saw them returning in the other direction. In good spirits, and with a few glasses of wine in us, we decided mooning them would be a pretty damn good idea. They were several hundred yards away, but someone must’ve had their binoculars out as they were passing because we could just make out the sound of a wolf whistle above the drone of their engines. We waved in reply and we each continued on our way.
We couldn’t transit the passes until about mid day according to our tide tables, so we had a fairly leisurely morning and eventually hauled up the crab trap to see what had happened by in the night. It had twisted itself around the anchor chain, so it took a while, but when I finally got it up on deck, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was, by far, the biggest jaiba I’d ever seen and its claws were big enough to dismember me if I wasn’t careful! We decided to name him Goliath.
The following day, the weather was really horrendous and there was no way we were going anywhere. We both caught up on our journals, played a lot of cribbage, and did some reading.
When the clouds finally lifted the following day, we could see that the storm had created lots of snow in the high country.
I made a quick, shotty paper jig and taped up an old, worn drill bit to avoid drilling too deep. Against all odds, everything came together pretty well and by 9AM, I had a pair of early 90’s Salomon X-Mountains all mounted up and ready to shred. We got on the radio with Karma and started planning our next moves. The south wind we’d had during the night had started pushing a lot of the pack ice up towards our anchorage. That said, all of the bigger bergs had run aground short of the shallow zone we were anchored in and the wind seemed to be dying off a bit. We decided to make a run towards the glacier in the dinghies, but retreat if the wind kicked up or the weather turned threatening.
We mixed up a couple of pisco lemonades and began our retreat back to the anchorage. The pack was slowly closing up around us, so it was a good call and we found the sailboats unmolested when we got back.