Hachman C.D. 1965 Journal 36 February 7 McKean Island evening that Ralph and Max packed up their cots and went down to the high water line on the beach— both stating they that they didn't give a damn if waves washed over them all night long just as long as there weren't any ticks. Since I had to write up all of the binding records I decided to stay in the tent after making a few preparations. First I carefully brushed the floor & walls of the tent, then my cot was gone over thoroughly. With a can of insecticide I sprayed all around the cot and then, for good measure, sprayed the legs of the cot extra well. Clowns are it will all wear off around 5 a.m. and I'll be extra alive. Just months of the many wonders and joys of ATF life—couldn't live without them. Finally packed out at 3 a.m. February 8 McKean Island It will be a relief to get off of this island for a change. The ticks have just about driven us all crazy. We're all sporting numerous tick bites on arms, legs, narhs, necks + all othr points (both significant + otherwise). The surf is picking up a little this morning but nothing serious because there is a long calm periodically. (We got creamed on the way out!) Ralph fell out of the raft and I had to hang on to him and finally managed to swim him in after much struggling. We got smeared by six large waves before getting out into open water. Departed at 0856.