First Landing
By Liz Hattemer We circled Hull Island looking for a spot to land. A serious quiet came over all of us when we first glimpsed the edges of this remote island. The logging boat slowed, and the daunting image of what was to come, hit us all. The perimeter of this island looked impenetrable. There was nothing less than 45 degrees of barnacled rocks outlined with seriously strong cedars barring our way. How to get all our gear (more than 3000 lbs) off the boat and onto the shore? And then, how to actually get into the island? How to carry our gear through that thick wall of cedars? Will we even be able to pitch a tent? We had seen bears on our way, turning over small boulders looking for crabs. Boulders just a little bit smaller than the size of our coolers full of one week's worth of food for eight...we had such a romantic idea, such a vision of what an island was all about. We'd pitch our tents, build a campfire, play the guitar, singing our joy at being out in the wildernes