The setup
In the summer of 2004, I was working in Alaska, for Cultural Resource Consultants out of Anchorage. Many of our projects involved travel. This particular project was in Berners Bay, working out of Juneau. On the day in question, the crew of four included the boss Mike, Yvonne, Catherine and me. We were looking for historic mining infrastructure in Berners Bay. https://alaska.guide/Bay/Berners-Bay
We flew by helicopter from Juneau each day to get to our project area. The helicopter company, Temsco, had several pilots on hand, two of which we worked with- John and Nurry.
Nurry was a younger guy, and a bit of a daredevil. He was the pilot on board on the afternoon in question. For a visual, Nurry looks a lot like Adam Sandler.
Catherine and I were paired up this day, and we were searching for rails used by carts used to move ore down to the shore for transport. We had noted rails near the shore and thought they were the same as the rails we sought deeper inland.
The decision
Because we were on a narrow spit of land, Catherine and I decided to proceed inland, and every hundred meters or so we’d turn right and head toward the ocean, feeling we’d cross the tracks at some point. The undergrowth on the peninsula was thick, and the going could be rough. We’d come to trees blocking the path, where it worked better to throw the backpack over the tree and crawl under it. We completed this trek to the ocean maybe four times, backtracking each time without finding those darn tracks.
As the day wore on, we began our fifth trip back towards the ocean, as we’d been doing all day. We hiked and hiked and hiked, not reaching the ocean as had on the previous trips. We kept hiking, watching our watches, with increased concern about where we were, and how far we were from the pickup location for the return flight to Juneau. We didn’t know whether we needed to turn around or carry on…..
Then we cleared a tree line, and there was the ocean. There was no beach, as there had been on previous trips. We spotted a narrow strip of gravel not far off. We had a radio and tried to reach both Mike and Nurry, to inform them of the problem and hoping with fingers tightly crossed they’d have good advice. But we couldn’t reach Mike. The answering voice was Nurry!
The rescue
We explained where we were, what landmarks we could see, in the hopes Nurry would find a way to retrieve us. Eventually Nurry spotted us and approached, telling us to retrieve our gear and get out of the way. So we grabbed our packs, radio, bear spray and retreated back into the woods. As we watched, Nurry set one “toe” of the helicopter down, while keeping the bird afloat.
We low-walked to the chopper, blades whirling overhead, threw our packs in and climbed in. Nurry lifted off. As we traveled to pick up the others, Nurry told us John would not have completed that maneuver. I asked Nurry if he goes sky diving, and he said “yes”, in that “Duh, doesn’t everyone” tone. Again, visualize Adam Sandler.
Alls well that ends well
Although we weren’t able talk to Mike, he’d heard the entire conversation and knew what was going on with his two hapless archaeologists. The next day Mike took Catherine back to where we had surveyed, and I went with Yvonne back to where she and Mike had had been working. Mike and Catherine found the rails running across a creek; the same creek Catherine and I had crossed the day before. It turned out Catherine and I had the wrong idea of what the rails looked like. Mike’s guesstimation was we probably went right past the rails trying to get to the shore for pick up.
Ok, “helicopter rescue” is a bit dramatic, as we’d been “commuting” in and out of the project area via helicopter from the beginning. The “rescue” part is that we weren’t going to make it to the normal retrieval location and were out of options.
It took ingenuity and a bit of daring from an Alaskan bush pilot named Nurry to retrieve us from an unanticipated and hazardous location. Thank you Nurry!
