Sunday, 29 May 2016, morning

It’s 6:45 in the morning, and the sky is only a shade above inky dark as I gaze out the galley window of the R/V Tiglax. Surely we can’t be in Alaska, Land of the Midnight Sun. That’s where – in my typical Alaska – the sun starts rising by 3:30, providing full daylight well before this time. Where are we?

52º 19′ 750” N 176º 36′ 830” E

That’s right. We’ve sailed off the northwestern edge of the world into the twilight zone. Some may call this the eastern hemisphere, but I’m not convinced this place is on the map. Since 3:30 Saturday morning we’ve continued our journey into the west, going so far that west became east. Adak, the last real area of civilization, is about 30 hours east of us.

The world is one of slate blue-gray water and foggy gray skies. By roughly 10:30 we’re supposed to arrive at this mythical speck called Buldir, the most isolated island in the Aleutians and home to millions of seabirds. As of now, I’m not sure any of us actually exist; life’s surreal.