June 2-3 2016   Volcanoes, katabatic winds and big seas  

The base of Taketomi with the small climbing party

I'm sure the last two mornings were dress rehearsals for this morning which saw us in the 'briefing' room at 6am for a 6.30am zodiac boarding. Overnight we had reached the most northern of the Kuril Islands - Atlasova, which boasts the highest volcano in the Kuril Archipelago, Alaid at 2340m, as well as one of the youngest. Taketomi which came into being I think in 1932 is a mammoth consolidated pile of the rocks and ash spewed out in that mighty eruption. We were to visit quite a number of the spectacular Kuril islands over the following 6 days, but this morning was special - Lindsay climbed Taketomi! Led by Leonid, our resident vulcanologist, and accompanied by 'Team Russia', as our 4 Muscovite fellow passengers had been tagged. He climbed right to the top which was no mean feat given he had to clamber over rocks and plough upward through compacted albeit somewhat unstable ash to about the height of a 30 story building or more. He came back down hours later beaming, albeit exhausted.

The remnants of the the fish processing plant and associated structures

Nervous of tackling the rocks as well as the steep climb, and reassured that there were few bears on the island, I set off alone for a little beach-combing under the watchful eye of a Largh seal and discovered lots of treasures and curiosities - shells, plants and rocks. I then headed away from the beach to tramp through the grass, scrub and sand dunes on the fringes of the island. I wandered around the remains of an abandoned fish processing plant which had been operated mainly by women who were shipped in specifically for the job; contrary to some beliefs, was not a gulag.  I fought my way through tangled mats of long grass in my oversized gumboots, skirted round dense thickets of dwarf alder trees just starting to pop out their fragrant catkins and in many places under the stunted trees I found carpets of a herbs whose foliage looked and smelled like the fronds of carrots. That and stinging nettles, which I carefully stepped around, were once used by the Ainu (aboriginals of the Kuril islands) to 'preserve' their meats. The herbs were placed in alternating layers with meat (seal, sea cow, otter, fish etc), seaweed and other herbs with insect repelling properties and hot rocks in a deep pit and then covered with earth.  Sound familiar?! Well in fact the belief is that these people were related to Polynesians. 

All the while I was tramping, I kept an eye on Alaid volcano and saw it slowly emerge from the fog which had completely blanketed the island when we landed. And finally voila there is was ..... quietly belching out plumes of smoke and ash - looking exactly like what is was. Quite awesome!

Mt Alaid (2340 m), the highest volcano in the Kuril Archipelago

Then it was back to the ship for a very late brekkie. Now that's the way to start a day!

We weighed anchor after brekkie to head south to Onekotan sailing on the western side of the archipelago in the Sea of Okhotsk in an attempt to avoid the heavy seas produced by a cyclonic, or anticyclonic, weather pattern (not sure which). Even so the sea got bigger and bigger as the day wore on which was quite thrilling - watched from the warmth and safety of the bridge! Birds were tossed about in the winds that reached 80-90 knots by the end of the day. The swells were growing in size and were made more ominous looking as the wind scooped up and flung huge walls of spray into the air and way up onto the monkey deck and across the windows of the bridge (I am sure there's a more nautical name of those).  The winds were intensified as they swept down the sides of the volcanoes and hills - I believe that is called the Katabatic effect. One was tempted to have a quiet little worry about our little ship's ability to stay upright in swells which had us clinging tight to what ever hand holds we could find. But we were, well I was at least, reassured that all was fine that the Professor Khromov could handle 50 foot seas without a problem - it was built as a metrological and hydrological research ship and designed to survive huge seas and ice. Even so we spent the night sailing up and down in the lee of Onekotan, along with another ship, for safety. Meal time and sleep were interesting experiences!

The captain left the safety of Onekotan around 4am and headed further south, but that morning the sea was still too big to launch the zodiacs so we spent a day at sea entertained brilliantly with a series of lectures - the habitat and behaviour of orcas/'killer whales', a potted history of Russian and Japanese occupation of the Kuril Islands in the first half of 20 century, and bird migration.  They were all quite fascinating but we were all anxious to get back into those zodiacs and explore - the next day hopefully. I have discovered that I love being in small boats surrounded by the heaving sea - it is like being in the embrace of a huge moving and mostly unpredictable beast, so much raw power is impossible to comprehend. But there have been magical times too when the surface is like satin and all you can hear is gentle lapping, slurping sounds in the silence with land a long way off.

Life on board an expedition ship is a far cry from your usual cruise ship - which is perfect for us.  There are no lifts, stairs are narrow and steep and space is tight especially when 40 odd people are running up and down between decks, the bridge etc when calls go out that a whale has been spotted at 11 o'clock off the bow or Dall's dolphins are riding the bow wave or the rarely-sighted short tail Albatros is circling the ship. Even the commonest of sightings bring people up on deck, binoculars and cameras at the ready. There is a constant buzz aboard ship. The quietest spot is usually the library/bar where people go to read, sort and upload photos, doze over a cuppa - except during happy hour that is!