I then began my trip to meet up with the crew, first flying to Honolulu, then to Anchorage, then to a little town called Homer. I arrived at Homer airport at 7:30 am on a twin prop plane from Air Alaska with about ten other people. From there I boarded a tiny four seater “float plane” at a nearby lake run by Stella Air. They normally operate only three to four months per year, during summer fishing and bear watching tourist season. The rest of the year, like many Alaskan businesses, they shut down for winter. We took off from the glassy lake at sunrise and began our thirty minute flight East over the mountains in Search of the Milo.
We knew roughly where the ship was, but in the vast wilderness I couldn’t help but think of all of the stories of small planes going down never to be heard of again. We finally spotted the Milo, anchored deep in a fjord near the base of a huge glacier that met the sea. Slowly we descended down to a perfectly smooth water landing. After tying up to the ship I unloaded my gear: an inflatable 12’6” One, a couple new wetsuits and the bare necessities beyond that. The plane took back off and left us literally in the middle of nowhere. The stillness and quiet was hard to describe.
