Bering Strait - Part 2

Monday 4 August 09:00

12 - Mac rebuilding the rudder

We met Dan Evans, MD of Protection and Performance and his younger brother, Adam at Manchester airport. Both had been involved in the design, development and testing of the amphibious Land Rover and Dan had made the crossing with Steve of the first half of the Bering Strait. As Dan kissed his pregnant wife good bye and hugged his young daughter, we knew that we had better come back successful. If not, we were all going to get it in the ear for a very long time!

The flight to Alaska was as long as I remembered from my trip nine years previously. Although it was August, I had packed for the worst. Down jacket, gloves and Arctic socks bulged from my kit bag as I unloaded it from the conveyor belt at Nome city airport twelve hours later. Perched on the edge of the Seward Peninsula, 1,000 miles from the main road network, Nome is an old gold mining town and the finishing point for the famous Iditarod sled race.

Tuesday 5 August 09:00

13 - Adam guiding the 110 down to the slipway

As we stepped outside into the clear Alaskan air, I was expecting to be hit be a fierce rush of Arctic wind, numbing me to my very core, but instead was met with warmth on my face. The seas were flat calm, not a ripple on the water, as home-made gold-dredging barges gently paddled their way up and down the rugged shoreline. It was the perfect day to cross the Bering Strait, but first we had to get to Little Diomede.

We checked with Bering Air about our next flight by single-engined plane to the tiny Inuit village of Wales. Perched on the most western edge of Alaska we would then have to take a small fishing boat across the hostile waters of the Bering Strait, a distance of 25 miles, which is the same as crossing from Dover to Calais.

As we wandered around the tiny town, buying souvenirs for our loved ones back home, we gazed out to sea and couldn’t believe how calm it was. Steve and Dan had been battling frightening seas to reach Little Diomede only two weeks before and my only memory of this part of the world was -20°C, icebergs attacking the coastline and blowing a gale most of the time.

Wednesday 6 August

We woke the next morning and things couldn’t have been more different. Low clouds hung over the land, fog masked any views and rain battered the windows. It didn’t look like any aircraft would fly that day. Things didn’t look good and there was a feeling of nervousness and frustration amongst the team. Steve and Dan had experienced what the unpredictable weather could do in this region after being stuck on the Russian coastline for two weeks and then again on Little Diomede for a further ten days. August was the last chance to cross the Strait that year. If they didn’t make it, they would be up against the might of the Jeep sponsored German expedition and all Steve’s hard work and money would be for nothing.

16 - The 110 inching its way down the slipway

Although the airline receptionist was very understanding of our urgent requests to reach Wales, there was absolutely nothing she could do. The village of just 153 inhabitants was 200 miles away and with no roads leading there, flying was the only way to go.

We sat in the nearby cafe and ate ice-cream, whiling away the hours as the clock hand slowly ticked around on its never ending journey. The clouds were in no rush to leave and aircraft sat idle on the edge of the runway, the fog clinging to the ground, determined not to be shaken.

After an hour or two, we decided to take a wander back into town and get some fresh air. There are only so many souvenir shops you can visit in one day and we were getting twitchy, always looking at the clouds above to see if there was any improvement. Even if things did brighten up above Nome, there was no guarantee that Wales would be the same. Perched so far out to sea, it has its own little micro-climate, with the winds being funnelled between the two vast continents of Asia and America on their way north to the Arctic Ocean.

Steve received a call on his mobile. It was Bering Air, the flight was on.

We raced back to the airstrip, this was it. Clambering aboard the tiny Cessna Caravan, we strapped ourselves into the flimsy seats and peered out of the misty windows. The pilot applied full throttle and we were airborne, bumping through the clouds and climbing to 8,000 feet.

The flight was just short of an hour and as we strained to see the ground below through the thick patches of cloud, I suddenly caught a glimpse of the Diomede islands and the Russian mainland beyond. We started our decent, the engines were cut back, flaps applied as we banked hard over to make our final approach.

19 - Making good speed in the shelter of Little Diomede

There below, at the end of the gravel runway, was Wales, my home for ten weeks over eleven years before. I was itching to meet old friends and see if anything had changed. We landed with a bump and as we climbed out of the aircraft, locals hoarded around the aircraft unloading the baggage hold and stacking the items onto quad bikes with trailers. We jumped on board and were taken over to the home of Dan and Ellen Richard.

It was just how I remembered it. The adjoining garage where we slept with the moose carcass dripping blood onto the plastic sheet below, the thick doors to provide maximum insulation and the smell of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven, Ellen’s speciality.

I greeted Dan and Ellen with a huge hug, it was great to see them again. Before we knew it, Dan was on the phone getting all the family members to come around and say hello. Ellen’s brothers, ‘Old Man’ and Sunni and their son Sherman, who was now a father himself, not the 13 year old kid I remembered.

“What are your plans Steve?’ asked ‘Sunni’.

“Simple, get to Little Diomede as soon as possible. Do you fancy taking us out there?”

27 - The majestic Cape Mountain in full view

Sunni checked the weather forecast for the following day. The weather was lifting and the seas were calm, it was good. We would leave the next morning.

We sat and chatted until the small hours. Dan gave me a guided tour of his house, proudly showing me the new bits of extension he had built. There, in the corridor, pride of place, was the Land Rover Global Expedition plaque that we had made Dan for his birthday. It was so lovely to see everyone again.

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Future expeditions

Past expeditions