From the frenetic activity of fishing boats along the Japanese coast, the passage along the Russian owned Kuril Islands feels rather like venturing into the empty quarter of the Sahara Desert. We've seen absolutely nothing in the way of shipping or small boats.
During the night, we've crossed through the line of the Kuril Islands to follow their western flank in the Sea of Okhotsk. The hope here is for a little shelter from any wind coming from the north-east, and it knocks a few miles off the overall passage to Petropavlovsk-Kamchatskiy.
Although the wind has picked up a little, we're still making around 15 knots. With around 500 miles to go to P-K, we could arrive there by late Saturday night provided the wind gets no stronger.
As the sun rises at just after four on Friday morning, the sight which greets my eyes looks more akin to South Georgia. We're just a couple of miles offshore from the island chain - rugged mountains wreathed in mist rising straight out of the sea, their dark silhouettes given shape and texture by the lines of snow which fill their numerous gullies.
Here and there the mountainsides descend to shallow saddles which sweep down to isolated beaches. The sort of place a shipwrecked mariner might head for, but not very welcoming or hospitable even so.
It's not freezing, but the temperature can't be much above. Not so much Sea of Okhotsk as Okchillysk. It feels colder because of the damp. There is a heater in the boat's cabin, but at these temperatures, it's pretty ineffective, and an icy draught comes through the gaps around the door at the back - we have to keep it ajar to stop the windows misting up.
Yesterday evening, we all made a sharp transition from kitting out for warmer climes to winter conditions. Now we're wearing thermal underwear, fleece jackets and warm hats, and we've swapped our lightweight sleeping bags for the heavyweight ones more suited to these conditions.
Alan and Steve are asleep now, and by the time they're awake, we've driven into a large bank of fog. The Kuril Islands are indeed a sight of wild and rare beauty, and one which I guess very few have the privilege of witnessing.
Clive Tully
Copyright Clive Tully ©2002
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