We made it! From a crazy idea to a fully executed mission, we have sailed 3658 miles across the Pacific to one of the most remote places in the world. As we arrived, the most remote place in the world was very, very foggy and rainy. We pulled into the bay, set anchor (after three unsuccessful tries in a questionable bottom) and had officially arrived in Massacre Bay. At first I thought the name was due to the WW II battle that happened here. Ironically it actually predates WW II, from when Russian trappers massacred 15 of the natives. However, in WW II, Attu was the site of one of the bloodiest battles in all of the war. Signs on the beach warn of unexploded ordinance, and they aren’t kidding. Foxholes, anti aircraft guns, failing piers all show the history of this place. We land on shore and begin our exploration. Much of the newer structure came later, as there was an outpost on Attu through 2010. Since then the island has remained unpopulated.
We set out to explore from the dinghy. An old, dilapidated Quonset hut sits near the beach, one of the last of many standing from 80 years before. Bizarrely, a fire hydrant sticks up out of the wildflowers. The tundra has mostly taken over, but signs of the military still show. We are walking towards the airport – which has seen two incarnations, first WWII, and later supporting a radar and loran outpost. The airport was finally abandoned in 2010, and the island became unpopulated again. On the way we come across a large barn. Looking inside we see, among other things, an old basketball court, spare piping and cable, a kiddie pool and climbing wall and a giant hawser (rope) on a pallet.
We continue on to the airport, feeling a bit like we are in a Steven King novel – Talisman probably. The airport is both the old runway as well as a full multistory apartment building/garage/control tower/. The building is also starting to collapse. Looking into the gasrage we see a Boston Whaler (small motorboat) as well as a side by side UTV. There’s a “Dart Champ” trophy on one of the walls and a whiteboard with writing still on it. All waiting for the tundra and the weather to eventually win. Outside I climb up on top of the diesel tank farm (also empty and starting to rust) to get a view back at the boat, now almost 2 miles away. The view is breathtaking, but standing there is uncomfortable as I have the land sways after a month at sea and the instability is a bit scary on the walkway above the tanks.
Descending from the tanks I see Kevin exploring the building and Brian setting up his drone. I walk over towards the airport, stopping to pay respects at the WW II Monument. This was an incredibly bloody battle and many lost their lives. And yet it is a part of the war almost no one is familiar with. The fact that we lost this island and Kiska to the Japanese was new to me and the rest of the team. Next to the memorial is a rusting anti-aircraft gun with a plaque as well. Somber place on a gray day in the Near Islands – ironically named given they are near to nothing.
We head back to the boat, a welcome destination given the entire trip was in my foul weather gear (both bibs and jacket as well as boots). On the way back I pick up my 4 lb harness that I wore for the first ½ mile before realizing I was carrying a heavy lifejacket on a land journey…
Back at the boat we fished hard and checked crab pots but found little success. Kind of expected fish to jump into the boat up here, but I think we aren’t in a good fishing spot. Either that or we aren’t great at fishing. Or both…
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