We've left Kamchatka behind us and we're now in Chukotka, the district of northeastern Russia that's closest to the US mainland, or at least Alaska! The bad news is that we've also left what passed for good weather behind.

Our first stop was scheduled to be at the small Chukchi community of Meynypilgyno. Although now mostly a collection of pre-fab buildings, the community which sees no more than two ships a year was seemingly excited to welcome us. They had prepared a meal of local delicacies including traditional fish soup, raw salmon and salmon "caviar" as well as putting together a small show for our delight. So they and we were very disappointed that the rain, wind and most critically 3 meter swells crashing on to the beach prevented us from going ashore in the zodiacs. Our expedition leaders returned to the ship from their scouting and formality clearance visit absolutely drenched and declared that the conditions were much too dangerous for a landing. The locals did present them though with a "doggy bag" of the goodies they'd prepared for us (minus the soup) which the ship's hotel staff duly dished out - and very delicious it was!

As compensation for not being able to go ashore, the expedition staff treated us to a showing of the 1925 classic Russian movie "Battleship Potemkin".....

What followed was one of the stormiest nights we've experienced on any expedition cruise rivaling a crossing of the Drake Passage. We are able to go ashore the next morning in a somewhat sheltered bay. In the bay, the sea is a bit calmer, but we are greeted by incessant rain, intermittent hail and 25 knot winds. Just the hardiest of us venture ashore. Several are put off when one of the first to attempt to disembark from the zodiac to the shore stumbled and ended up in the sea and was returned to the ship completely drenched. What we discover on shore are massive piles of whale and walrus bones....and three dogs. There a few metal dinghies and some odd looking dwellings. Our guides tell us that this is a camp for subsistence whalers. Aside from the bones, we do actually spot a couple of grey whales in the cove but no humans. Whether they'd gone into the local town (around 20 miles away down a very muddy track) or were hiding at the strange sight that we must have presented never became clear!

The weather and seas continue to deteriorate and the remainder of the day's off-ship activities are abandoned. Such is expedition cruising in sub-Arctic waters!!

The next morning and the weather's even worse. But we do manage to anchor in a sheltered bay and have the opportunity to go ashore. With heavy winds, a serious swell and torrential rain, the expedition team are only expecting the most serious birders to leave the comfort and shelter of the ship. Wrong! Just about everyone heads ashore landing at what we're told is a subsistence whaling camp. There are piles of whale bones lying around and a fresh looking piece of walrus head, but other than three well-fed looking dogs, no signs of life. On closer inspection, this looked more like a commercial or at least non-subsistence enterprise. Perhaps the whalers were out whaling (unlikely given the weather) or more likely had headed into the nearest town some 20 miles away along a very muddy track

Later in the day after a few hours of stomach-churning seas, we also arrive at said town - Provideniya, our last stop in Russia. We're just here to complete the exit formalities from Russia and don't get the chance to disembark. Judging from what we can see at anchor in the bay, we haven't missed much.

We're now just little more than a stone's throw across the Bering Sea from the coast of Alaska. We still have to cross the International Date Line as a result of which we get to have July 7th twice - Provideniya is 20 hours ahead of Alaska.

Still can't quite see Sarah Palin though.....