The view from our Bomb Shelter.
Some of the loveliest creeks in Alaska. None packraftable nor likely to kill you.
Lapland longspurs have a song that cheers the foggiest day.
There was at least one white bear on the island.
Monte, a fun guy, also scored this glass float, while searching for . . .
an iris, first seen by Dave.
Monte, taking a break from collecting 200 species, in the food tent.
St. Matthew is one of the incredible bird islands of Alaska. And the world.
Lots of awesome places for birds to nest where foxes can't go.
A ship that wrecked off Glory of Russia Cape in 1989 and now rusts there.
Grad student and insect person Casey Bickford had the beachcombing score of a lifetime. Tiglax crew = jealous.
Also standing to pose, the island's singing vole, found only on St. Matthew.
My buddy Rich, island veteran and most likely to survive a winter on St. Matthew, on one of our awesome hikes.
Rich, smiling again, after getting soaked helping to launch the skiff.
Rich hiking a knee-buckling load that included a car jack back to camp.
After a week, we pass Cape Upright for the last time on the way back to St. Paul.
For the sixth time, Dave says goodbye to St. Matthew.