Gold Dredgers and “Go West of East”

We arrived in Nome on the evening of Sep 9 and I am writing these lines a few hours after I left Nome in the evening of Sep 12. The town, again, is so far off the norm that it is easier to list the things that are normal than the things that aren't. Washington DC is far away, not everything that is decided there is sensible up here. The Alaskan system is pragmatic, including the authorities. Compared to Florida, where I usually checked in with the boat, immigration was by far the most pleasant experience I have ever had in the USA.

The town is cherished by its inhabitants and more than one passer-by got stuck here. Stay away from the drunk gold diggers at night and you will have the best time. It is easy to imagine that the gold dredgers are a particular kind. We share the harbor with these outcasts that take the dredges to sea and by hand suck in the gravel and sand from underneath the rocks to sieve for gold. 15 meters below water, connected to a hookah and hot water for heating, they stay down there for 5 hours. I was surprised to hear that they use nitrox for safety and comfort.

The variety of dredging methods on display is staggering: the only thing they have in common is limitless creativity, nurtured by the firm conviction of knowing how to do it right. The small dredges send divers down with a suction pipe. The bigger ones run remote-controlled crawlers on tracks on the seabed, or they have articulated steel trunks reminiscent of concrete pumps, or even whole submersible vessels riding on a pair of tracks when submerged or floating on tanks like a surfaced submarine.

The low that pins us to the harbor brought them all into the harbor. The place is now overcrowded and boats are packed at least 2 wide, sometimes 3. I am happy to have Vanuily alongside and not a rusty dredge with steel poking out in all directions.

With every day we wait for weather, I get a bit more nervous: the autumn is coming arriving with great speed. I’ve got to get south of the Aleutians rather sooner than later. The Bering Sea and the Norton Sound are a lot like the North Sea: shallow, mostly 20 meters only. But unlike the North Sea one low pressure system is whirling in after the other. The shallow water makes for very ugly seas, Richard adequately coined them square waves. Uncomfortable to a degree that they are dangerous for a vessel like Hafiz, they might capsize a vessel like ours.

Aegir invited the community to an open boat evening where we discussed the options. Me being a single-hander, I favored the coastal route with Hooper Bay as an intermediate hideaway. Talking to Jeri Bakker, who now has completed his fourth NWP, I learned that the safe motto here is "go west of east". Go behind the lows, ride them out on their back along the "all saints" route: Saint Lawrence, Saint Matthew, Saint Paul and Saint George are all islands that offer shelter if need be and are nicely lined up behind the expected trajectory of the lows. I changed my mind and also opted for "go west of east".

I leave the harbor, knowing that it will become a passage of 4 or 5 days that isn’t for enjoyment only. First night rough, then one day of motoring, then 2-3 days of sailing with increasing wind from behind - nice. I start at 64.5°N and intend to go non-stop south of the 55th parallel. It’s going to be a better place for me at this time of the year.Read more