caribou
Member
The finish....
Well, now that Ive gotten some pix on the ol' photobucket, heres my few days ago adventure that was just another one of those trips....
The wife left me a couple weeks ago to my devices, as she needed to get the kids back in school and thats alota prep work after a short summer of camping about. The kids held their own, and gladly took to picking berrys, fishing and hunting in our absents, and our oldest son did well as Master and Commander, over 6 siblings as well as his family.(Thank God they grow up!)
Anyhoo, its been since July 10th that Ive be home proper and Ijust cant seem to get back, as more meats, skins, Ivory and such keep me here, My favorite Summer grounds along the Kotzebue sound. Summers over quick, and Fall hunting on Kobuk River has me inna hurry to preserve all I can and scoot soon.
I do, however, take time for fun, on occassion......Ok, even the misery, its ALL fun
Hunting history is a pastime, and Ive been on the trail of those who sought to meet sir John Franklin and his party that were to rondevou with Captain Beechy in the HMS Blossom at Chamisso Island , here in Kotzebue Sound, and be taken home from there, in 1826.
I left with a weather report stating that we were to have three days of relitive calm, and took food/water for 4.....but left my water.....STUPID.
Before arriving at Chammiso proper, I visited Puffin Island, where a message was painted AND inscribed with instructions and messages.
I found no message (It was painted on) "BUT" I did find the Brittish "Broadhead" Proof mark, neatly (Like a tombstone) inscribed on the NW facing cliffs.
Hard to see, and I shoulda took more pix, but its there.
After such a great find, the wind promtly rose to about 30 mph with 5 foot seas, compelling me to go to Chamisso proper , about two miles SE, and look about.
There I first found the hole, where they had buried a keg of flour and a tin box of trade beads for Frankiln, just as the map showed.
This was dug up in 1849 buy T.E.L. Moore, with the HMS Plover, who over winter'd in Kotzebue Sound awaiting Franklin on his third and tragic try for the "Northwest Passage" through the Arctic.He found the flour buried there "Fresh" and comsumed it, but left this hole in the ground.....
Then I found the grave of Sgt. Woolford, who died in 1826....
I didnt get a clear picture, but I wasnt gonna scrape the lichens off either. I made out enough of his name to know I was right.Its right in the middle of a thicket, but right where capt.Beechy's map show'd
Next I went atop of the Island, where the ship Logs were posted, from Franklin seekers , Von Kotzebue hisself, and various Russian survayers and had they been there (they were removed in 1909 by an Austrailian, and sold to a museum in Seattle)The thing agreed by Franklin and his "home partys" were to leave messages in bottles 10 Ft from the posts, due magnetic North, and dozens were left for him all along the arctic coast to the Mckenzie river.....no point in tearing up the ground, since I wasnt so sure exactly "Where" they were planted......though I did find woods with old inscriptions, like "D 02" and "Auche" and several unreadable inscriptions as well as a friend of mine, Jerry M''' from sept 1964~~LOL!!~~
Well, with big seas , a little boat, no water and on a deserted Island, I figured I wasnt too bad off as I luckily had 20lbs of oranges with me, and lots of berrys to pick, which I did....
Untill I awoke the next morning to snorting.....
I looked out the tent to see the BIGGEST Brown Bear in my life!!!
BIG and belly dragging, he was walking the perimeter of my "Piss fence" that I had dutifully made from habit and lots oranges, as well as some tea/coffeee I had before leaving shore, earlier in the day.
Screw the camera, and of all things I couldnt find my rifle!!! I wasnt about to take my eyes off that Brown for a second, either...It was actually right where I left it , next to my sleeping bag, but my tarp floor was over it as I had rolled over it in the night I guess, so inna split second of thinking "If I were a bear, I'd at least give it a go on eating whats in that tent" and I planned to run like hell for the water, and out swim his ass.....but he started running as soon as I formulated that, and not fast enough.
Thy Mosin Nagant and thy Piss fence, they comfort me....when it comes to keeping Bears away from my tent, I swear by Piss.
By then my heart had its daily allowance of work and I could hear it beating.
My solution was simple, The rifle blocked the door now, loaded, saftey off...
Well, now I had bigger problems as I could barly sleep, was thirsty and the winds were worse in a sea of white blowing from NE.....
By the third morning I was digging at the spring well with no results and my mouth was pasty and every 2 minutes I was looking for that Bear. I did find scat, blue from berrys, twigs, with feathers in it, and with his belly like it was, dragging and tiny ears, I figured he was OK on food, and I should relax that night....but it was not to be...
About 2 hours before sundown, the wind calmed. I gave it another hour and the waves calmed.....then I took off, knowing that within1/2 an hour I would see Deering Village lights, and all would be well....untill the wind came up again, this time from the NW....I rode the 4-6ft. swells tacking as best I could beating N and S, but as darkness came on, the wind switched West and the swells started to crest about 8 ft.........Sooooooooo to make a long , cold, miserable night survivable (about 5 hours now) I turned east and tacked SE, NE, thanking God for the Moon, and at sun up found myself in the Kiwalik, where we camp for salmon, in the South east corner of Kotzebue Sound.
I headed up the Kiwalik river, and drank three DELICIOUS cups of water, and thinking there might be folks around, headed up to Candle, where I found my old friend Jim Rood, former owner of Kotzebue's Northwest Aviation, a 35 year arctic bush pilot, and his girlfriend Leanne A, and another fella, Rich J. They are early risers, and I was just in time for breakfast, about 7am and yet it took three more cups of water and two of coffee before I felt like pissing~~LOL!!~~
Jim flew out that evening with a message to the wife that I was fine, and after a days work helping them build his green house, I was glad to strech, warm up and dry my clothes with work and wind.
I dryed my gear serviced my stuffs and set up my camp, slept like van Winkle, and waited for the wind to die.
I passed a couple more days mammoth hunting, with some small results and decided to catch a couple caribou on my way out as I had watched them for a couple days, but didnt want to have to dry them up only to put them in the boat, so its better that they were as fresh as possible.
The M-39 did its job, and I did mine, about 150 yards, so nothing special about the shots....
The first guy took it through the neck and out the shoulder as he faced me quarter'd;
He was a "Gusher" and stagger'd for about 15 seconds befor going down, as I was aiming for a follow up, so I adjusted to his buddy and made my second shot a behind the ear, out the eye ,"No brainer". This guy just fell over stiff legged, like a wall in the wind.They all die rather differently....funny as it is, it downpoured just after I shot them, while I gutted the first guy. Coulda used that a few days before...~~LOL!!~~
And a self portrait of this guy whos writeing....
So it all came out OK...
I do have a fix on the 100ft.+ 3'X3' OAK keel timber of the whaling sloop "Louisiana" that struck shoal off Chamisso Island, and was burned by its crew when the Confederate Raider "Shenandoah" chased her into Kotzebue Sound in 1865, while burning/destroying the Yankee Whaling fleet in the Bering sea/Chukchi sea.
I wonder how many gunstocks I'll get out of it?? Its buried in the muck and sand off shore, but our Fall time lowtide make it accessable, and Im gonna salvage it someday. Shes hard as rock and well preserved.
Thats next.~~LOL~~!!!
I did indeed screw up that pict, so here it is, next to my size 11...
And a few of many peices of wood that folks ,like me , left a name and date on. My wood was new, but "AUCHIE 77" is the oldest. I figure 1877 that is, as well a D 02 wasnt 7 years ago, either.Both are on curved Barrel staves.
Now its Fall time and the Caribou hunting is about to get "HOT!!""
I just gotta get some gas $$ up and go
Well, now that Ive gotten some pix on the ol' photobucket, heres my few days ago adventure that was just another one of those trips....
The wife left me a couple weeks ago to my devices, as she needed to get the kids back in school and thats alota prep work after a short summer of camping about. The kids held their own, and gladly took to picking berrys, fishing and hunting in our absents, and our oldest son did well as Master and Commander, over 6 siblings as well as his family.(Thank God they grow up!)
Anyhoo, its been since July 10th that Ive be home proper and Ijust cant seem to get back, as more meats, skins, Ivory and such keep me here, My favorite Summer grounds along the Kotzebue sound. Summers over quick, and Fall hunting on Kobuk River has me inna hurry to preserve all I can and scoot soon.
I do, however, take time for fun, on occassion......Ok, even the misery, its ALL fun
Hunting history is a pastime, and Ive been on the trail of those who sought to meet sir John Franklin and his party that were to rondevou with Captain Beechy in the HMS Blossom at Chamisso Island , here in Kotzebue Sound, and be taken home from there, in 1826.
I left with a weather report stating that we were to have three days of relitive calm, and took food/water for 4.....but left my water.....STUPID.
Before arriving at Chammiso proper, I visited Puffin Island, where a message was painted AND inscribed with instructions and messages.
I found no message (It was painted on) "BUT" I did find the Brittish "Broadhead" Proof mark, neatly (Like a tombstone) inscribed on the NW facing cliffs.
Hard to see, and I shoulda took more pix, but its there.
After such a great find, the wind promtly rose to about 30 mph with 5 foot seas, compelling me to go to Chamisso proper , about two miles SE, and look about.
There I first found the hole, where they had buried a keg of flour and a tin box of trade beads for Frankiln, just as the map showed.
This was dug up in 1849 buy T.E.L. Moore, with the HMS Plover, who over winter'd in Kotzebue Sound awaiting Franklin on his third and tragic try for the "Northwest Passage" through the Arctic.He found the flour buried there "Fresh" and comsumed it, but left this hole in the ground.....
Then I found the grave of Sgt. Woolford, who died in 1826....
I didnt get a clear picture, but I wasnt gonna scrape the lichens off either. I made out enough of his name to know I was right.Its right in the middle of a thicket, but right where capt.Beechy's map show'd
Next I went atop of the Island, where the ship Logs were posted, from Franklin seekers , Von Kotzebue hisself, and various Russian survayers and had they been there (they were removed in 1909 by an Austrailian, and sold to a museum in Seattle)The thing agreed by Franklin and his "home partys" were to leave messages in bottles 10 Ft from the posts, due magnetic North, and dozens were left for him all along the arctic coast to the Mckenzie river.....no point in tearing up the ground, since I wasnt so sure exactly "Where" they were planted......though I did find woods with old inscriptions, like "D 02" and "Auche" and several unreadable inscriptions as well as a friend of mine, Jerry M''' from sept 1964~~LOL!!~~
Well, with big seas , a little boat, no water and on a deserted Island, I figured I wasnt too bad off as I luckily had 20lbs of oranges with me, and lots of berrys to pick, which I did....
Untill I awoke the next morning to snorting.....
I looked out the tent to see the BIGGEST Brown Bear in my life!!!
BIG and belly dragging, he was walking the perimeter of my "Piss fence" that I had dutifully made from habit and lots oranges, as well as some tea/coffeee I had before leaving shore, earlier in the day.
Screw the camera, and of all things I couldnt find my rifle!!! I wasnt about to take my eyes off that Brown for a second, either...It was actually right where I left it , next to my sleeping bag, but my tarp floor was over it as I had rolled over it in the night I guess, so inna split second of thinking "If I were a bear, I'd at least give it a go on eating whats in that tent" and I planned to run like hell for the water, and out swim his ass.....but he started running as soon as I formulated that, and not fast enough.
Thy Mosin Nagant and thy Piss fence, they comfort me....when it comes to keeping Bears away from my tent, I swear by Piss.
By then my heart had its daily allowance of work and I could hear it beating.
My solution was simple, The rifle blocked the door now, loaded, saftey off...
Well, now I had bigger problems as I could barly sleep, was thirsty and the winds were worse in a sea of white blowing from NE.....
By the third morning I was digging at the spring well with no results and my mouth was pasty and every 2 minutes I was looking for that Bear. I did find scat, blue from berrys, twigs, with feathers in it, and with his belly like it was, dragging and tiny ears, I figured he was OK on food, and I should relax that night....but it was not to be...
About 2 hours before sundown, the wind calmed. I gave it another hour and the waves calmed.....then I took off, knowing that within1/2 an hour I would see Deering Village lights, and all would be well....untill the wind came up again, this time from the NW....I rode the 4-6ft. swells tacking as best I could beating N and S, but as darkness came on, the wind switched West and the swells started to crest about 8 ft.........Sooooooooo to make a long , cold, miserable night survivable (about 5 hours now) I turned east and tacked SE, NE, thanking God for the Moon, and at sun up found myself in the Kiwalik, where we camp for salmon, in the South east corner of Kotzebue Sound.
I headed up the Kiwalik river, and drank three DELICIOUS cups of water, and thinking there might be folks around, headed up to Candle, where I found my old friend Jim Rood, former owner of Kotzebue's Northwest Aviation, a 35 year arctic bush pilot, and his girlfriend Leanne A, and another fella, Rich J. They are early risers, and I was just in time for breakfast, about 7am and yet it took three more cups of water and two of coffee before I felt like pissing~~LOL!!~~
Jim flew out that evening with a message to the wife that I was fine, and after a days work helping them build his green house, I was glad to strech, warm up and dry my clothes with work and wind.
I dryed my gear serviced my stuffs and set up my camp, slept like van Winkle, and waited for the wind to die.
I passed a couple more days mammoth hunting, with some small results and decided to catch a couple caribou on my way out as I had watched them for a couple days, but didnt want to have to dry them up only to put them in the boat, so its better that they were as fresh as possible.
The M-39 did its job, and I did mine, about 150 yards, so nothing special about the shots....
The first guy took it through the neck and out the shoulder as he faced me quarter'd;
He was a "Gusher" and stagger'd for about 15 seconds befor going down, as I was aiming for a follow up, so I adjusted to his buddy and made my second shot a behind the ear, out the eye ,"No brainer". This guy just fell over stiff legged, like a wall in the wind.They all die rather differently....funny as it is, it downpoured just after I shot them, while I gutted the first guy. Coulda used that a few days before...~~LOL!!~~
And a self portrait of this guy whos writeing....
So it all came out OK...
I do have a fix on the 100ft.+ 3'X3' OAK keel timber of the whaling sloop "Louisiana" that struck shoal off Chamisso Island, and was burned by its crew when the Confederate Raider "Shenandoah" chased her into Kotzebue Sound in 1865, while burning/destroying the Yankee Whaling fleet in the Bering sea/Chukchi sea.
I wonder how many gunstocks I'll get out of it?? Its buried in the muck and sand off shore, but our Fall time lowtide make it accessable, and Im gonna salvage it someday. Shes hard as rock and well preserved.
Thats next.~~LOL~~!!!
I did indeed screw up that pict, so here it is, next to my size 11...
And a few of many peices of wood that folks ,like me , left a name and date on. My wood was new, but "AUCHIE 77" is the oldest. I figure 1877 that is, as well a D 02 wasnt 7 years ago, either.Both are on curved Barrel staves.
Now its Fall time and the Caribou hunting is about to get "HOT!!""
I just gotta get some gas $$ up and go
Last edited: