Jill Fredston

This is my favorite kind of travel book, a first-person account of difficult travels in a wild and dangerous place. Jill Fredston writes wonderfully well of her adventures rowing around the Arctic with her husband, Doug Fesler. Avalanche experts in Alaska most of the year, they take off in a rowboat and kayak in the summer to row long distances in lonely waters. This is the story of what they learn, why they do it, and how it changes them in the process. A lovely book and one of a series show more that I steal from my wife when she is finished reading them for her book club. show less

I flew through this great travel memoir about rowing in various arctic waters. I didn't really know what to expect when I started this book. I thought it was going to primarily be about a woman facing the challenges of rowing by herself in the wilderness. Instead its really about a couple who rows together in the wilderness. At first I didn't like the author's tone. There was something a little haughty about Jill that I didn't like. Than I realized that she is an east coaster who moved to show more Alaska, and it all clicked. I'm used to talking to bitter transplant Alaskans. It's just why they are here in the first place. Anyway, after I got over that, I really enjoyed the commentary on all the places that Jill and Doug had gone. The Alaska portion was especially interesting and I appreciated that Jill didn't pull any punches on some of the not so pleasant things she saw on the remote west and North coasts. The Norway trip was also intriguing. I didn't realize that there was so little wildlife along that coast. Favorite quote: "We saw more wildlife in the first hour outside of Whittier's small boat harbor (Prince William Sound, Alaska) than we saw during five months in Norway."
One of my friends who also read this book noticed something that I hadn't. While reading about her journey's, its easy to forget that she is rowing the whole time. Its not like she isn't writing about the rowing, but I just kept having to remind myself, "oh yeah, she is still rowing this giant boat through arctic waters". Part of it, maybe, is that I found this book to be more about a relationship between Jill and Doug than rowing. Her writing about how they make decisions and support each other and fight with each other reminded me of going on long hikes with my wife. Many points in the book offered me opportunities for reflection.
I didn't care so much for some of the flowery metaphors that popped up here and there. They seemed a bit forced. On the plus side, there is a very good chapter near the end on her philosophy of risk management. It's very practical, succinct, and well worded. I found myself agreeing with most it. I have an adventurous friend or two who could really stand to read this chapter.
When I finished, I found myself wondering what other trips Jill and Doug have been up to. It's been nine years since she wrote this book. I will have to see if they are still in the Anchorage area and still writing.

Side note: tons of whales in this book, but alas no sperm whales, like the cover alludes to. show less

This is not a book I would have ever picked up on my own. Hallelujah that my book group picked it! I found the book riveting and have not looked at the moutnains outside my window in the same way since. At times its like driving past a horrible car wreck, you don't want to know, you don't want to look, but you just can't help yourself. My mind boggles at the power of snow.

I think Jill and I share a similar need, although hers seems to express itself in more extreme ways. Although I wouldn't choose to row around in the Arctic, I was still right there with her. And I'm glad it was she who could report back on her journeys in this book, and not some lesser messenger lacking in the appropriate levels of reverence for what little wildness remains in this world.