First let me clarify something. I was surprised by the many messages I received that suggested we were having terrible weather. The weather has been great – one of the best in years according to the residents. I thought maybe my writing was biased towards bad weather, so I made a quick weather related word count of my last e-mail, and here are the results: Sun = 13, Fog = 6, Cloudy = 6, (Nice, Beautiful, Gorgeous, Wonderful) = 4, Cold =4, Rain = 3, Warm = 2, Mist =2, Wet, Blue and Gray all = 1. So it’s clear that we’re not in Southern California, but for a rain forest it’s been pretty darn nice, and compared to the heat and humidity of the east coast, or the 100 degree temperatures of the Rogue Valley it’s a pretty attractive picture.
Of course the weather comes up a lot in my writing since we are outside pretty much all day, and sailing is a very weather dependent activity. Try spending every day riding around continuously in a convertible with the top down (and no windshield), and see how sensitive you become to a bit of light rain or fog.
 |
| Juneau-Douglas Bridge, AK |
So, back to events. We are still in Juneau.
Wednesday July 24 weather was a repeat of the last few days. It began cloudy and wet, and finished sunny and warm. The morning was spent on boat tasks. We drained the coolant from the engine, and tried a different thread sealant for the leaking joint. It’s really annoying that we have to do this. Taking off to Alaska with a new engine has taken us away from our warranty support. It’s not a serious problem, but it is a nuisance.
 |
| Gajaa Hit Bldg, Juneau, AK |
We then walked downtown for lunch. We went to a seafood restaurant that turned out to be smack in the middle of the cruise ship docks. What a mess that was. There were five ships in port, each of which disgorged thousands of people onto the crowded streets. There was a continual stream of tour buses making their way through the pedestrians. These people must be getting an odd idea of Alaska.
We were in Juneau in 2002, and are surprised to see that since then they have constructed several additional blocks of shops extending from the actual downtown out past the ships. These are all filled with curio shops, tee shirt shops and jewelry stores – especially jewelry stores. There are at least 25 jewelry stores in just a few blocks. Why would you travel to Alaska to buy jewelry? These shops were all packed with tourists. As we walked farther north into the real town (which is also full of tourist shops), the number of people declined significantly, and by the time we made it up the first hill to the real part of Juneau, tourists had almost disappeared. So the average tourist’s experience of Juneau is a few blocks of ten-year old curio shops. Very odd. We had to wait for a table, but in the end our lunch was very good. This restaurant closes at the end of September, along with all of the other businesses in this part of town.
 |
| Front St, Juneau, AK |
Returning to the boat (via the grocery store, as usual), we changed the oil in the engine, and then walked a few blocks to dump it into an appropriate receptacle. Due to the lack of trails, the vegetation and the topography we don’t do much walking while we are sailing. On the other hand, when we get into port, we are walking all the time. On balance it is probably less exercise than we get in our normal lives, but we do lose weight. That is probably because we don’t do as much snacking on the boat. I suspect that just being on a moving boat also uses energy, as your body is continuously making small balance adjustments. The other major event of the day was that Schooner got his first bath in 2 ½ months, and we all appreciate that.
 |
| St Nicholas Orthodox Church, Juneau, AK |
Thursday morning we attacked the clean Schooner with the hair clippers, and he now looks a bit more presentable. He had become quite the shaggy dog. We did it on the dock, so the hair would blow off into the water rather than fill up our boat. However, a lot of debris has floated into our slip, and the water is covered with a solid coating of seaweed, bits of wood, beer cans, and who knows what. I don’t know why it all ended up in our slip, but it is quite a collection. So, Schooner’s hair just added to this layer, and after it soaked up some water it now looks like we have a dead sea otter floating in our slip. Not very appealing.
The boat basin is filled with salmon. These are big fish, probably 10 or 15 pounds, and it is all rather sad. They should be making their way up a stream to spawn, but they somehow messed up, and are milling about here, wondering where to go now. There is quite a collection of them at the nearby creek, but they are having trouble as well. The creek has been paved with concrete as it goes through town, and it has been too dry lately to provide enough water. The fish leap up onto the beginning of the concrete and swim like crazy, but they run aground and get washed back down. Salmon don’t have an easy life.
 |
| Hill Above Juneau, AK |
Speaking of not having an easy life, the boat basin also just filled up with gillnet fishing boats. The fishery opening just closed, so they are all in unloading fish, repairing nets, and getting ready for the next opening. There seem to be a lot of family operations, with fathers & sons, mothers & daughters, and entire families of parents and kids.
The other exciting nontourist activity of the day was cleaning the bilge. This takes longer than you might think, and is about as much fun as you might think as well.
We did get away from the boat to do a little bit of tourism, and visited the Alaska State Museum. It is really well done, and well worth the time. One floor was artifacts of the native cultures: the southeast coastal tribes (Tlingit and Haida), the interior Athabascans, the Eskimo and the Aleut. They had wonderful things that were well displayed and described. For example, imagine sewing a waterproof parka from seal gut without making any stitches that go completely through to the other side. The second floor was about the European history, and the displays about the Russians were especially well done. We learned about the details of painting icons, and about how to use a samovar. Maybe not too useful for us, but interesting nonetheless.
 |
| Raven, Juneau, AK |
We decided to splurge and went out to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant downtown. They had a nicely done mural over the bar that was a composite of various Botticelli paintings, all in a spruce-hemlock forest. Of course we ended up having an Italian take on salmon and halibut, and it was wonderful. We also had a bottle of a very nice Argentinian malbec, had dessert, and waddled back to the boat. Downtown Juneau is very quiet in the evening; all of the cruise ship passengers are back on board. There is still a surprising amount of traffic, however.
Friday we finally left Juneau; sort of. We went to Auke Bay, which is just a different part of Juneau. Auke Bay is just 12 miles or so from downtown, but you can’t get there from here. There is water all the way, but it is the very shallow delta of the river flowing out of the Mendenhall Glacier. You have to go back out Gastineau Channel, and all the way around Douglas Island to get there. So that’s what we did. It was a cloudy day, with the mountains invisible, there was no wind, there was little traffic headed our way, and it was pretty uneventful, though not entirely boring.
 |
| Auke Bay, AK |
Coming into Auke Bay was a bit tense, as there are no slips, and no assigned berths. You just cruise around looking for an empty spot into which you can parallel park. If you think parallel parking is hard in a car, you should try it in a boat. Especially a boat like ours which does not back up in any predictable direction. Well, everything was packed, and we were getting concerned when we saw a boat leaving that was just about our size. We jumped in and grabbed the empty spot. Well, grab is perhaps a bit too strong. It was really an impossible spot. It was at the bottom of a “U” and the other boat at the bottom was a 47 foot catamaran that seemed to be about 47 feet wide. This made it very difficult to approach the empty spot, and to add to the problems, the wind was blowing us off the dock. We plunged right in, and made a bit of a mess of it, but the folks from the giant catamaran grabbed our lines, pulled, gave useful advice, and got us secured. They turned out to be Dutch, and were in their ninth year of sailing from Holland. We chatted with them for some time, learning about their voyage.
Walking up the dock to register with the harbormaster, we discovered that in the last year they have installed two more docks that have easy-to-enter slips. There were lots of empty slips. We should have explored around a bit before leaping into our impossible spot. The cruising guides, of course, don’t mention these brand new docks. The other problem with our impossible spot, is that it will be equally impossible to get out of in the morning. We can’t go forward without hitting the fishing boat in the vertical part of the “U” and we can’t go backward without hitting the catamaran. The catamaran is so wide that we are stuck in a box. With any luck the wind will still be blowing us off the dock, and we can just untie and drift away. Fat chance.
The morning dawned without a breath of wind, but then the fishermen arrived and took off in the boat that was on our bow. This gave us enough room to maneuver the boat out of our hole, and we left without a problem. We were not the only people leaving. Auke Bay is the largest marina in Juneau, the largest city in Southeast, and this was a beautiful Saturday morning. Last night the docks had been buzzing with people loading up their boats with supplies. There were also a lot of seiners in port waiting for a fishery opening this morning. So this morning everybody was headed out onto the water. There were also large numbers of tour boats taking tourists out to see whales and bears.
This all created a somewhat unreal situation for us, as we haven’t seen this many boats since we left in May. They were all going faster than us, passing us and creating large wakes that rocked us about. We got a bit of wind and sailed for a while, being passed by the sailboats motoring past as well. We sail our boat quite a bit, and it has been a rare occurrence to see another boat sailing. Sailboats up here are derisively known as “stick boats,” since they are just powerboats with unused masts. It is true that the summer winds here are fickle and unpredictable, and often likely to be blowing on your nose, but there is a fair amount of wind. You just have to work at it. Most sailboats seem to just give up and motor everyplace. So, even when there is a great wind going in our direction, we will often be passed by a sailboat motoring along with its sails furled. The same thing is common down south in the San Juan and Gulf Islands as well, though not as extreme as up here.
 |
| Saginaw Channel, Eagle Glacier, AK |
In Saginaw Channel there was one humpback whale that was receiving intense scrutiny from the whale watching boats. He wasn’t doing anything especially interesting, but he was the only show in town that morning.
 |
| Point Retreat Lighthouse, Admiralty Is, AK |
We rounded Point Retreat at the north end of Admiralty Island, and turned south. This makes 58 degrees 25 minutes our new record for farthest north sailed. Everything north of here will have to wait until next year. Lynn Canal was packed with sport fishermen from Juneau. There must have been fifty boats out there.
After a bit the wind came up from the south, and we spent an hour or two beating upwind in the warm sunshine to Funter Bay on the west coast of Admiralty Island. Just as we neared the bay a whale breached, and then did it again and again. Each time he came almost entirely out of the water, and returned with a huge splash. He then followed us into the bay.
 |
| Funter Bay, AK |
We moored next to a powerboat on a public dock in the bay. The owners, who were from Phoenix, were very friendly and helpful. Among other things, they gave us some of the halibut that she had caught yesterday. Shortly another powerboat arrived to fill up the dock, and then two Albertans arrived in their dinghy. They were tied up to a dock on the other side of the bay. They are only the third or fourth Canadian boat we have seen since we arrived in Alaska. That has been a real surprise for us, and is hard to explain. About this time the Alacrity with our friends from Wyoming arrived, much to our surprise, and we had them raft to our boat. As a thank you they gave us half of the salmon that he had caught that afternoon.
 |
| Wallpaper in Cabin, Funter Bay, AK |
Jean stayed on the dock to talk with the crowd while I took Schooner ashore. The dock is built at the site of an old cannery, but in contrast to Taku Harbor, it is not at all obvious. There are half a dozen vacation homes on the shore, and at first we weren’t sure that the dock was in fact for public use. Walking around in the second growth forest, evidence of the old cannery appeared in the form of collapsed buildings and mysterious bits of rusty metal. We did find one somewhat intact cabin. The walls and ceiling inside were papered with pages from old magazines dated 1919. Schooner gets very impatient with finds such as this, as he is not much of a history buff.
Upon our return to the dock Schooner and I discovered that we had missed the exciting event of the day. It seems that this whale that followed us into the bay was curious about us, and suddenly surfaced ten feet away from our boat tied to the dock. Apparently this caused quite a sensation for those who were sitting there chatting. I guess if people can go peer at whales it’s OK for whales to come peer at people. Of course I had the camera with me, so Jean didn’t get to record this event.
 |
| Aleut Cemetery, Funter Bay, AK |
Sunday, July 28 was another beautiful sunny day. I took Schooner and Dodger, the springer spaniel from Alacrity ashore, and we went on a successful search of the forest for a cemetery. After the Japanese invaded the Aleutian Islands in World War II, the US government evacuated all of the native Aleuts. This was apparently done without any advance notice, and the people had to leave with not much more than the clothes on their backs. They were taken to intern camps created from things like old abandoned canneries, and there was a camp at Funter Bay.
 |
| Cannery Ruins, Funter Bay, AK |
Living far from home in rather primitive conditions, there was a high death rate among them. In Funter Bay, 32 died in the two years they were there. The people in this camp were from the Pribilof Islands, and the graves had Russian surnames, and were marked with Russian Orthodox crosses with pictures of icons attached to them. When the survivors were allowed to return to their homes, they discovered that their belongings had been stolen and their homes vandalized by the US troops stationed there. A pretty sad chapter in our history.
 |
| Purse Seiners, Lynn Canal, AK |
For lack of wind, we motored across the east end of Icy Strait. There were a lot of seiners out working, but not much in the way of pleasure boats. There was a lumpy swell coming in off of Icy Strait. It was a beautiful clear day, and we could see Mt Fairweather over by the ocean. This is an ice-covered mountain whose 15,300 foot summit is thirteen miles from the beach. This is our fifth trip to Alaska in one form or another, and it has long been clear that, when it comes to scenery, it is in a class of its own. You could almost stop every half hour, take a photograph of whatever happened to be there, and end up with a great collection of photos. For example, you western sailors may be familiar with the view of Desolation Sound from Sarah Point. It is one of the spectacular sights of southern British Columbia. Well, we have views like that almost all the time, and we never really photograph them unless the light is especially nice. John Muir, founder of the Sierra Club, advised young people to not visit Alaska. If they did, he said they would be faced with two choices. They would either have to move there, or else face the fact that everything they saw thereafter would be a disappointment.
 |
| Chatham Strait, AK |
One whale passed us going north, and then the wind came up from the north. This allowed us to sail down Chatham Strait on a broad reach. The wind continued to increase, and we had to reef both the mainsail and the jib. We sailed a few miles up Freshwater Bay on Chichagof Island, and anchored with one other boat in Pavlof Harbor. It proved to be a popular spot, and by the evening there were six of us there, including one huge yacht from Florida.
 |
| Bald Eagle, Pavlof Harbor, AK |
I took Schooner ashore to the beach; and this was pretty close to being a real beach. It was composed of some sand and some small rocks – maybe ¼ inch in size – that produced a close approximation to a beach. You could make footprints, and you could dig a hole in it. The usual “beach” up here has been made of medium to large glacial rocks, that are going to twist your ankle before they think about moving anywhere. Poking around in the forest we found a beaver pond.
 |
| Brown Bear, Pavlof Harbor, AK |
On the way back to the boat, we rowed around a point to the main stream that entered the harbor. It was high tide, so we could row all the way up to a large waterfall that fell into the sea. The salmon were running, and leaping out of the water to climb the fall, and also just to leap. It’s not clear why salmon leap out of the water, but we see it all the time here. It does not seem to always be associated with predators. Speaking of predators, there were three brown bears at the fall, dining on salmon. Needless to say, we left them alone, and rowed back to the boat, where Jean had been laboring in the hot sun applying a coat of sealer to the exterior teak. She got more points, but I had more fun.
 |
| Waterfall, Pavlof Harbor, AK |
 |
| Brown Bear, Pavlof Harbor, AK |
We had a relatively short day, going only 15 miles to the village of Tenakee Springs. The wind was variable in direction and strength, but we managed to get a fair amount of sailing in. Again it was a cloudless blue sky, with temperature in the low 70’s. This seems really hot to us now. There were a few local sport fishermen and a few seiners out. The arrival at Tenakee Springs was made somewhat difficult by the very small scale chart of the area, which left a lot of details to our imaginations. It was clear that there were dangerous rocks around, but it wasn’t very clear where exactly they were. This was complicated by the fact that we had our strongest winds of the day at that point. We got it all sorted out, and safely moored at the dock in the harbor.
 |
| Tenakee Springs, AK |
A local couple came up to us and wanted to know what those white things were on our mast, as they hadn’t seen a stick boat use them before. They were a pleasant couple who have lived here a long time. He is the retired postmaster, and a few years ago bought a fishing boat to supplement his retirement income. It isn’t clear that this was a really good idea, and they have experienced too many adventures thus far.
 |
| Tenakee Springs, AK |
Another local, coming in from sailing his very unusual homemade boat, told us that there are about 40 people here in the winter, 75 or so on a typical summer day, and 150 on the fourth of July. The Alaska ferry comes here once a week or so (no cars though), and there is a floatplane service, so many people from Juneau and Seattle have summer homes here. There is one single-lane dirt street that runs parallel to the water for about a mile, with closely spaced small homes at both sides. The ones on the water side are built on pilings. Sort of like a low rent Malibu. There are no cars; lots of bikes, carts and some 4-wheel ATV’s.
 |
| General Store, Tenakee Springs, AK |
We went into the general store, which is pretty much unchanged since the 1920’s, with goods stacked on high shelves along the walls behind a counter, a large old fashioned cash register, and varnished glass display cases. We bought some ice cream and ate it the sunshine sitting on the benches in front of the store. The other businesses in town are a bakery, the seaplane office and the post office. Across the street there is a building filled with free items to be recycled.
The reason for this town’s existence is a small building in the center that contains a hot spring. It is well maintained by the residents, and is free. Bathing is strictly nude, and the daily schedule is divided up by gender. You have to wash before entering the pool, so it makes a great bath facility for the residents and visitors. It has a slight sulfurous odor, but not bad. The temperature is 108 degrees Fahrenheit, which is a bit warm for my taste, but not impossible. We both ended the day clean and warm.
Returning to the boat in the evening we found that a wind had picked up from a new direction, and was creating a bit of swell in the marina. So we were rocked to sleep, which isn’t always the recipe for a good night’s rest.
 |
| Party Time Bakery, Tenakee Springs, AK |
The chef wanted to know where we were from, and all about our boat. Later he came out to tell us the native story of the guillemot legend that was pictured on a print on the wall. We left with a good feeling about Tenakee Springs. In some respects it reminds us of Protection Island, where we live in British Columbia. It is a small, somewhat isolated place, with a strong sense of community.
 |
| Rover & Purse Seiners, Tenakee Springs, AK |
Returning to the boat we found that a couple of giant purse seiners had tied up next to us, and had the dock covered with nets they were mending. We spent some time talking with them, and filled in a few missing details of exactly how they operate. In addition to the fishing boats, we have seen quite a few tenders. These are relatively large boats that buy fish directly from the fishermen, and then deliver them to a processing plant. This allows the fishermen to spend more time fishing, rather than traveling back and forth to deliver their catch. We finally got off to a late start, which was too bad, as we had a long day ahead of us. We were headed to an anchorage 35 miles away, and the tide would be against us almost the entire day.
 |
| Purse Seiner, Tenakee Inlet, AK |
We saw a few whales during the day, but they really picked up as we entered Peril Strait, the waterway that separates Chichagof Island from Baranof Island. A couple of them surfaced fairly close to us, including one right in front of us. When he suddenly appeared, we were on autopilot, with nobody at the helm. We were quite startled, and quickly jumped for the helm so we wouldn’t run into him, but then he tossed his flukes in the air and sounded. When they do that, you know they are diving deep, and won’t be up for a while.
 |
| Rover, Pt Moses Cove, Hanus Bay, AK |
Our relaxing day came to an abrupt end as we entered Peril Strait. There was a very strong wind blowing out of it, and a very strong tidal current flowing into it. This is a bad combination that produces closely spaced, steep, high waves. It is very uncomfortable bashing into these, and they really slow you down, and get you wet. After a short while we realized that it would take hours to reach our destination, so we headed over to the north shore where we could tuck in behind some small points to get some protection. After only two hours of this we managed to get into the cove behind Moses Point on the west side of Hanus Bay on Baranof Island.
 |
| Pt Moses Cove, Hanus Bay, AK |
This got us completely out of the waves and the wind coming down Peril Strait. However, there was another wind coming down the valley from Lake Eva, and it was producing impressive gusts that really didn’t allow us to relax much. The winds eventually died down after we went to bed, so we got a reasonable night’s rest, which was badly needed.
When we awoke, after sleeping late, on Wednesday, we discovered that the west wind had already resumed, and whitecaps were visible out in Peril Strait. Our original plan had been to hike a trail through old growth forest up to Lake Eva, but the idea of another night at this anchorage was not very appealing. Therefore, we changed our plan, and cancelled the hike. Before leaving we were visited by a very large Stellar sea lion, who was hunting breakfast in the cove.
We raised the sail with a reef in it to start, and headed out to do battle once again with Peril Strait. This time the wind and waves were behind us, and the tidal current was going the same direction, so it wasn’t nearly as trying as yesterday. Nevertheless it did take a lot of energy and effort to control the boat and end up in the right place. We had one flail when we lost the end of the main sheet after a jibe. In an unseamanlike manner we had failed to tie a stopper knot in the end of the line, and it just ran out through the block. We got it back with some difficulty and excitement. There were a few whales about, but we didn’t have time to watch them.
Conditions were much improved as we sailed south down Chatham Strait, until suddenly the wind just stopped. We were sailing along at 6 knots one moment, and becalmed the next – very odd. So the rest of the day was spent motoring. One advantage of that was that we could furl the jib and pull in the main so that we had lots of sunshine. The sails had us in the shade for a while and it was a bit cool. Please note that it was a sunny, cloudless day once again.
As we neared our destination, Ell Cove on the east coast of Baranof Island, a couple more whales appeared. Then as we were headed into the narrow entrance, perhaps 50 yards wide, a spout erupted from the middle of the entrance. A whale was just lying there. We slowed down and continued on in, figuring that he would probably give us some space. He did submerge and let us proceed.
 |
| Glacier Carved Granite, Ell Cove, AK |
Ell Cove is a tiny, completely protected spot. It was a welcome change from our last windy anchorage, and we had it all to ourselves. Much to my surprise it turns out to be made of granite, and has the feeling of being anchored in a small mountain lake. We have been in metamorphic rock for a long time, and I wasn’t expecting that. Glacier carved granite produces excellent scenery, but is a bit lacking in the nice beach department. So we rowed out and around the point to a nice spot we had noticed on the way in. It was a white sand beach with a large stream running past it, coming from a tall waterfall back in the forest. It looked like a great place to explore for the rest of the afternoon.
 |
| Beach, Ell Cove, AK |
The beach was outstanding. It actually was made of pure white sand. That means that it takes a beating in winter storms, but today it was very approachable. As we neared the beach, there were many salmon at the mouth of the stream leaping out of the water. After we got ashore, Schooner was ecstatic – he simply loves sand beaches. We, on the other hand, started talking about whether or not it was a great idea to walk up through the tall beach grass along the creek into the forest. It looked like good bear country to us. Our concern was heightened when we discovered these massive bear tracks in the sand. We made a lot of noise and went a tiny way up the creek when who should come strolling out of the woods toward us but a huge brown bear. Actually all of the bears in this area are browns (aka grizzlies). The black bears can’t compete with them.
 |
| Bear Tracks, Beach, Ell Cove, AK |
Well, we beat a slow retreat around the corner and back onto the beach, out of the bear’s sight. We then figured that the bear was interested in fishing, not beach walking, so we walked down to the other end of the beach to explore. We found the most wonderful little pocket beach of white sand nestled among smooth granite. We also found what we first thought was a kayak camp, but turned out to be a bear den. At this point we thought that it would be a good idea to leave. This decision was reinforced when we saw that a bear had crossed the creek over to the beach side.
Leaving was not so easy, as the waves had kicked up a bit, and we had to get off the beach in our dinghy against one-foot waves. This is an essential skill for people who cruise in the tropics, of course, but we haven’t had much practice at it, and it is a lot harder than you might suppose. We did manage to all get aboard, headed out, and were about 10 feet from shore in one foot of water when who should come running down the beach towards us but a bear cub, followed by its mother. Oh my goodness, but that was close! I put renewed energy into my rowing, and was relieved to find that the bears did not find us of interest.
The cub wanted to play in the sand with its mother, but the mother wasn’t as playful as the cub would have liked. Eventually she found a dead salmon, and the two of them shared a beach snack. It was neat to watch, but the experience was rather sobering. The first rule of bears is never get between a mother and her cub. We were less than a minute from finding ourselves in that situation, not because of anything we did, but simply because the cub was feeling playful. The next rule for bears, is don’t go poking around streams full of salmon, and we’ll remember that one well.
 |
| Warm Springs Bay, Baranof Island, AK |
Thursday morning I took Schooner ashore far from the sandy beach. In fact it was a “beach” made of basketball-sized granite boulders covered with barnacles; less than ideal, but no bears. We left the cove to find a good wind blowing north down Chatham Strait, so we raised the sails and had a broad reach all the way to Warm Springs Bay. It was another beautiful, warm sunny day, and sailing in a perfect wind in the sparkling sunshine past snow covered mountains was pretty nice.
 |
| Warm Springs Bay, Baranof Island, AK |
The wind became a bit strong as we entered the bay, but we knew it wouldn’t last. Sure enough things calmed down and we dropped the sails in a gorgeous harbor. It is surrounded by steep granite mountains with snow fields on their tops. The stream running into the end comes in over a very large, noisy waterfall. At the base of the waterfall is the small community of Baranof Warm Springs, with a free public dock.
This was a very short day of only 11 miles, so even with a late start, we arrived around noon. We were surprised to find the dock almost completely full of boats. It turns out that it was a group of eight boats from Anacortes, Washington. There is a boat broker there who offers to lead a trip to Alaska for all the people who buy boats from him. The boats are all huge, and they were here for their third day. That seemed pretty rude to us; occupying almost the entire dock at such a popular spot for such a long time. There was just enough room for us, and the big boat owners were very helpful and friendly getting us tied up in the strong current from the waterfall.
 |
| Baranof Lake, AK |
After lunch we walked up a boardwalk trail to Baranof Lake, from which the waterfall originates. It is a beautiful subalpine lake with a sand beach, snowy mountains and blue water. Much of the spectacular scenery of Alaska results from its low tree line. You have the impression that you are much higher in the mountains than you really are. The trail to the lake was well traveled, but it then got a bit vague. We continued on, up a cliff to the top of a knob with a wonderful view of the lake, the stream and the harbor. We tried a different route down, and got a bit lost in a muskeg, but eventually found our way back to the lake. We found a very pretty new flower in the muskeg called a swamp gentian. It didn’t look anything like good bear country, so we were pretty relaxed.
 |
| Pond Lilies Near Baranof Lake, AK |
We got pretty warmed up by all this climbing around, so went for a swim in the lake. We have a lot of experience swimming in subalpine lakes, and know that there is generally a reasonably warm layer a foot or two deep on the surface. Below that it is pretty cold. Confidently launching into this lake, I discovered that the warm layer is perhaps 4 inches deep. It was refreshing, but I didn’t stay long. Jean lost her nerve watching my response, and decided to sit in the 4 inch warm layer near the shore.
We walked back toward the boat, and stopped off at the hot springs. They tumble down through a series of pools into the top of the waterfall. The waterfall is huge and frightening, and sitting in a hot spring right next to all of this water rushing over the falls was a bit disconcerting. The coolest pool was a one-person hole right next to the water, and neither of us had the courage to climb down the slippery rocks to try it. We settled for the next one up, which was really hot. Once you got in, it was eventually OK, but I wouldn’t say it ever became comfortable. I felt that I was being parboiled for dinner, and it certainly aided my recovery from the cold lake. There was only one other person there. He gave us a different perspective on schedules. He needs to be back in Vancouver the same day we need to be in Wrangell.
 |
| Bath House, Baranof Warm Springs, AK |
After returning to the boat we took a proper bath. This was quite the day for aquatic events. The water from the hot springs is piped down to the village, where they have built a bathhouse. It has three rooms, each with a 7x3x3 foot tub. There is a continuous flow of warm water into the tub, and it overflows down a pipe stuck in the drain. The water has cooled during its trip down the mountain, and is perfect bath temperature. You go in, have a great bath, and when you’re done, pull the pipe out of the drain, so it all drains out. You scrub the tub out with the brush provided, stick the pipe back in the drain and let it fill for the next person. Each room is three sided, with the open side facing out over the water, the forest and the snow speckled mountains. It is really quite wonderful.
 |
| Baranof Island, Chatham Strait, AK |
Friday was another in our series of cloudless blue skies and warm temperatures. After breakfast and a walk, we left for points south. Once again we were in a small fjord indenting the east side of Baranof Island, and there is no radio reception in there. So, you have no idea what the weather will be until you pop out into Chatham Strait. Well, the weather was just like yesterday, which wasn’t much of a surprise. We raised the sails, reefed them, and tore off south on a beautiful reach just like yesterday. Schooner was very relaxed and doing well, despite all of the boat motion, but lost his courage when he got splashed. What a wimp.
We arrived at the entrance to Red Bluff Bay, farther south on Baranof Island, simultaneously with two other sailboats. One had left shortly after us from Warm Springs Bay, and the other had exited Red Bluff Bay and turned back when they saw what the weather was. They were headed north. The red bluff is a chunk of peridotite, and it is a striking contrast to the heavily forested slopes all around. Peridotite is a chunk of the earth’s mantle, pushed up by tectonic forces, and the chemistry is not conducive to plant growth, so it was covered in sparse shrubs. We have a lot of this in Southern Oregon, so it felt like home for a short while.
 |
| Approaching Red Bluff Bay, Baranof Island, Chatham Strait, AK |
After blasting through the wind funnel at the entrance, we entered a calm sheltered small fjord. The most popular cruising guide to Alaska (actually, just about the only guide), says “Red Bluff Bay is perhaps the most spectacular combination of mountains, waterfalls and icefields in Southeast Alaska.” Well, we expected to find a crowd. At the end of the day there were only six boats anchored there, so it wasn’t so bad. It is a very nice spot, but that praise is a bit overstated.
 |
| Red Bluff Bay, AK |
On the way into the cove I was up on the bow, looking out for rocks. I shouted at Jean to quickly turn away from a large rock in front of us, but as we got closer it turned out to be a herring ball – thousands of small fish all swimming in a sphere. The cove was also packed with salmon, and the entire time we were there we listened to a continual slapping sound of salmon leaping out of the water. They must be practicing for swimming up the creeks.
 |
| Red Bluff Bay, AK |
 |
| Waterfall, Red Bluff Bay, AK |
Jean took Schooner ashore, while I watched for bears. The shore was a maze of bear trails, but no bears appeared. Nevertheless it was hardly a relaxing trip. We really are spooked from our experience the other day.
Friday was notable in that the weather changed. We awoke to a low cloud cover, hiding all of the mountains. We also awoke to find only two boats still there. All the others had left very early, presumably to try and beat the wind. I took Schooner ashore on a small peninsula that looked a little less bear friendly. Shortly after going ashore, the couple on the power boat, who were looking through their binoculars, started waving at us and pointing toward the end of the peninsula, about 100 feet from me. Well, it was pretty clear they were watching a bear, so Schooner’s morning exercise was abruptly terminated.
Rowing back to the boat it became clear that the bear was not on the peninsula, but beyond it on the shore near our boat, and our hasty retreat was unnecessary. By the time we were ready to leave, the bear had worked his way to the spot where our stern tie line went around the tree. This was only 75 feet from our boat. The idea of the stern line is to untie one end, and pull the line back to the boat around the tree, so you don’t have to go ashore again. However, we have saved a few dollars by buying small lengths of cheap line and tying them together, and sometimes the knot hangs up, forcing you to go ashore. Much to our relief our cheap line ran smoothly back to the boat, and we left the bear to his berry picking.
When we poked our nose out into the strait we discovered a strong wind again, but from the south! This was perfect as we were headed northeast, and had a reach again. Once out there, we listened to the weather forecast, and it was predicting northwest winds – and here were we going hull speed under reefed sails in the opposite direction. I’m sure it must be very difficult to predict the weather in such a complex region, but it is surprising how often they are completely wrong. You just need to take the weather you get, and act accordingly.
Although the sail was exciting, the scenery was a zero, as the clouds were only one or two hundred feet above the water. As we neared the other side of Chatham Strait, and started up Frederick Sound, the wind died down to the point that we started the engine. This was a mixed blessing. Sailing is more fun, less noise, and doesn’t use any fuel. On the other hand, it doesn’t produce any electricity, or secondarily any cooling of our food. The ice in our cooler will only last five or six days, and we don’t often encounter icebergs. Then the contents and the meltwater slowly warm up, and it becomes a race against time to eat our perishable food before it perishes.
This might be a good time to talk about utilities. Like any house we have to be concerned with electricity, water, cooking and heating fuel, garbage and sewage. The difference is that there is no public utility to provide any of this.
We have two sources of electricity – the alternator on our diesel engine, and a plug on the dock at a marina. Both of these charge 12 volt batteries, and we run everything on the boat on these. We have minimal electrical needs and a pretty big battery, so it is fairly easy to keep our batteries well charged. Our motto on electrical devices is “As the complexity of a system approaches infinity, the time between breakdowns approaches zero.” Our major electrical use is lighting. The Peltier cooler would use a huge amount of electricity if we ran it all the time, so we only run it when motoring or when plugged in.
Most of the cruisers we’ve met up here have freezers on their boats. These people also have diesel generators that they run when they are anchored – a major annoyance to others in the anchorage. We are generally the smallest boat around. Most of the visiting boats up here are large and expensive yachts. When we first started cruising in British Columbia, we noted that the farther north we went the larger the boats became, and the older the people. Now we just notice how large the boats are. The people don’t seem all that old!
As for water, we obtain that from either a marina or a fuel dock. We have three tanks on board that hold a total of about 60 gallons of fresh water. We are very conservative in our water use, and that should last us for 12 days or so. If we need more, some places such as Tenakee Springs offer untreated water (with no guarantees). We can also collect water from streams, but that is a lot of work to carry it back to the boat in small quantities and pour it into our tanks. On occasion we will fill our sun shower in a creek and let it warm in the sun for a shower. Our 60 gallons will disappear quickly if we use it for showers. That is the reason that taking showers in town always gets mentioned – it is a big occasion. In theory we could collect rain water, but we have never tried that. Generally we do OK with our 60 gallons and sponge baths.
Our fuel tank holds 20 gallons of diesel fuel, and we now carry two 5-gallon jerry cans as well. We burn about 0.4 gallon per hour traveling at about 5 knots, so that gives us a range of 375 nautical miles, though I would be very nervous actually trying to do that.
Our cooking stove burns denatured ethyl alcohol. Most older boats like ours were fitted with pressurized alcohol stoves as a safety feature, as alcohol fires can be extinguished by water. In reality, alcohol stoves caused a lot of fires because people didn’t understand how to use them properly. Most boats now have propane stoves, though propane is heavier than air and settles in the bilge. Every now and then there is a news event of someone on a boat blowing themselves to smithereens from their propane stove. Denatured alcohol is readily available at hardware stores in the US, but not in Canada. This is awkward, as we have to import alcohol into Canada, and carry enough to make it through our trip. Of course this is not a problem here in Alaska.
We can heat the boat in a number of ways. When the engine is running, we can use the heat from the cooling system. We do that quite often. Tied to a marina and plugged in, we can turn on a small electric heater. Sitting at anchor we have three options. We have a wood burning stove that heats the boat up nicely. We have a large pile of firewood that is often in our way, but we appreciate it. If it’s only a bit chilly, we light our hanging oil lamp that provides both light and heat. Sometimes we get up in the morning and want to quickly take the chill off for half an hour while we get dressed. We have a small propane heater that accomplishes that nicely. And of course, there is always the possibility of lighting the oven and baking some muffins. This may seem like a lot of heaters, but we were really worried about being cold and wet in Alaska. It’s worked out very well, and we’ve been warm, dry and comfortable.
We separate our garbage into compostable stuff, heavy stuff and dry stuff. The dry stuff, which is mostly paper and plastic, we carry with us, stashed in cockpit lockers until we arrive at a place that accepts garbage. This generally means a city. Most small villages won’t take your garbage – they have enough problems dealing with their own garbage. We could burn the paper on shore below the high tide line, but that is generally too much of a hassle. The compostable stuff gets chopped into small bits, and tossed over the side when we are far off shore. The hope is that most of it will be eaten by sea creatures or otherwise decompose. Any that washes ashore will very likely be in a place where there are no people, and if anyone is there, the small piece won’t be noticeable. If you’ve never been in this part of the world, you will probably have a hard time imagining how much completely uninhabited land there is here. The heavy stuff is cans and bottles. These are filled with water and sunk in areas with more than 500 feet of water. Up here, that is almost anywhere. The cans will rust away, the bottles will provide homes for bottom critters, and neither will ever make it ashore under any conceivable circumstances. We’re not completely comfortable with these practices, but it is a level of guilt we can live with.
As for sewage, we have a marine toilet, called a head, that terrifies visitors. It has an intimidating collection of valves, hoses and pumps, and we have a complex set of printed instructions to guide them through the process. The basic problem is that the toilet is below the waterline, so you can’t just let it flow out – it flows in. Out in the middle of nowhere (which is mostly where we find ourselves), we pump it overboard. In a confined spot like an anchorage or a harbor, we pump it into a holding tank, and then pump the tank out when we are far from shore. In theory you should pump the tank out at a marina facility designed for that purpose, that pumps it into the city’s sewage system. We have seen two of these setups since we’ve been here, so that’s not really an option.
 |
| Chapin Bay, Admiralty Is, AK |
So where was I? Sorry for the boring digression. Yes, motoring up Frederick Sound. The clouds gradually lifted, and it became a bright day. We saw one whale breach off in the distance, and one surface and then dive smack dab in front of us. We went into Chapin Bay on the south side of Admiralty Island. This place is a bit obscure, and I anticipated having it to ourselves. We were then surprised to find three boats there. We motored around for half an hour to select the best remaining spot. This was especially difficult since all of the spots were essentially identical. The bay is huge, so four boats is not a crowd. We are out of the granite, having not only crossed Chatham Strait, but also the Chatham Strait Fault, which completely changes the geology. This is all Tertiary volcanics, and Schooner and I had a long pleasant walk on a beach of pebbles and smallish rocks. Even better, we saw no sign of bears.
Saturday the changing weather continued, and we awoke to rain. This was the first rain we have had in ten days, and it caught us unprepared. We went to bed last night with the companionway hatch and several portlights open. So we awoke to a lot of wet stuff in the boat, and drying things out turned out to be a major aspect of the day. We decided to stay in Chapin Bay for the day, rather than go sailing in the steady rain. We built a fire, and kept it going most of the day, not because it was so cold, but we needed the heat to dry things.
We did a lot of reading, played some cribbage, cooked, and generally took it easy. If you’re not familiar with sailboats like ours, it helps to envision our day at home in the rain, drying clothes, if you understand that our living area, including the galley is about 8 feet wide and 10 feet long. We can escape from each other by either going to the bathroom, or going to bed. Of course I did have to walk the dog in the rain, and that gave us more stuff to hang up and dry out. A pretty relaxing day.
Sunday was cloudy but dry. The low clouds obscured the mountains, and there was no wind. Motoring was a good thing, since it produced a lot of heat to finish the drying operation, and it let us run the cooler to keep our milk alive.
We continued up the coast of Admiralty Island to Pybus Bay. The entry to the bay was complex, with enough unmarked rocks, that it gave us a lot of work figuring out how to stay away from them. We were headed for Cannery Cove, which had been recommended by cruisers we had met. It was purported to be very scenic, with great bear viewing. We were surprised to discover a large fishing lodge there, the mountains were hidden in clouds, and we’ve seen enough bears for a while, so we continued on up the bay to Sheldon Cove in Donkey Bay.
 |
| Rover, Sheldon Cove, Pybus Bay, Admiralty Is, AK |
Sheldon Cove is a small niche with a lot of pretty islets around. There were no other boats, and we settled in. The day became bright, and a few bits of blue sky showed up. I knew that it wasn’t going to clear up from my grandfather’s wisdom. He taught me that the sky would not clear unless the amount of blue sky was enough to form a pair of Dutchman’s britches. No way you could make those britches out of this bit of blue sky. This was more in the realm of what my brother Bill calls a “sucker hole.” It gives you hope, but it’s not going to happen.
We’re still in the volcanic rocks, and there was a reasonable rocky beach for dog walking. Despite the continual jumping of salmon, there was no bear sign. The main creek was around the point, and I expect that was full of bears. I also brought a saw ashore to replace the firewood we burned yesterday.
 |
| Sheldon Cove, Pybus Bay, Admiralty Is, AK |
Monday morning was a very low tide, and the results were somewhat sobering. Rocks! We have a 1:40,000 chart for this area, which is pretty good, but the small niche we entered doesn’t have a lot of detail. We made a conservative approach, giving the rocks and reefs more room than seemed necessary, and we made it in safely. What is obvious this morning is that without our conservative approach we would have been in trouble. There are a lot more rocks than the chart would suggest, and our approach was less than optimal. In addition there is an uncharted rock only 30 or 40 feet from our boat, that has about 2 feet of water over it at the moment. A wind shift could easily have set us onto it. If we’re going to poke into such tight spots, we need to be more careful. This nearby rock is covered with white sea anemones, and is quite attractive.
 |
| False Lily of the Valley, Sheldon Cove, Pybus Bay, Admiralty Is, AK |
The winds for the day were light and variable, so it was a day of motoring. Most of the day was cloudy, though it cleared up at the end. We travelled south across Frederick Sound, and the major entertainment was the whales. We saw a dozen or so, ranging from far away to pretty close, and doing a variety of whale behaviors that I don’t understand. This is a major cruise ship route, and two passed by; each slowing down so the passengers could watch the whales.
We entered Keku Strait, and went to the native town of Kake. We tied up at the fuel dock to get fuel and water. We also took advantage of a weak cell phone signal to try and get the City of Wrangell to turn on the electricity at our stall, so it will be operating when we arrive. Between the weak signal, and problems with the fax machine at the fuel dock, we probably did not succeed, but it’s hard to tell. Maybe we’ll have electricity, but probably not. Communications is not a strong part of the Alaskan infrastructure.
The natives of Kake are getting a good deal on diesel fuel, as the meter on the pump is off by 25%. This saved us a lot of money, but also created a bit of a mess when the tank overflowed. While Jean wrestled the phone and fax, Schooner and I walked to the grocery/hardware store to buy some ice, milk, butter, bread and salad fixings. The road was hilly and curvy with no shoulders and a fair amount of traffic – not a fun walk.
 |
| Rover, Kake, AK |
We then moved a couple of miles down to the town boat harbor, which is out in the middle of nowhere. We tied up next to a purse seiner from the Aleutian Islands, and talked at some length with one of the crew members. He is about our age, and has been doing this most summers for 40 years. The rest of the year he deals poker in a casino in Washington. The captain and the rest of the crew had walked up the road to a bridge that crosses a creek full of bears catching salmon. They had a short day, as the canneries are overwhelmed with fish, and they wouldn’t take more than 30,000 pounds from any one boat today. That is a lot of fish! On a normal day they would catch 70,000 pounds.
Another seiner came in, and one of the young crew members dived off the boat, and swam to the dock so he could hand the mooring lines to the crew on board. Considering the temperature of the water, that showed remarkable initiative.
Tuesday morning was warm, sunny, and windless. We first returned to the fuel dock to see if any faxes had arrived from Wrangell. They hadn’t. We then picked our way through a field of rocks to take the shortcut out of the harbor. That was only possible because the tide was very low, and we could see all of the unmarked reefs. We headed south down Keku Strait toward Rocky Pass.
Keku Strait separates Kuperanof and Kuiu Islands, and the center portion is called Rocky Pass. It gets very little traffic, because it is very narrow, very complex, very shallow, full of kelp, and has strong currents. At one point the Coast Guard removed all of the navigation aids to try and discourage boaters from using it. That is an interesting approach to helping people. They eventually put them all back, and added some more, so it is doable, though not easy.
 |
| Anchorage South of High Is, Keku Strait, AK |
We left too early and went too fast, so that we arrived at the critical spot too soon. It was not yet high tide, and the tidal current was running way too fast for a safe transit. We pulled off to a side bay and anchored to await better conditions. It was sunny and hot. We put up our sunshade, and ate a leisurely lunch. As we were leaving Kake, we had been passed by a powerboat headed the same way. When the pass began to narrow, we encountered him driving around in circles wondering what to do. He then decided to follow us, and I think was a bit surprised when we anchored. He was one of only three other boats that made the trip through today.
At the appropriate time we went on through. It was reasonably straightforward, but it required several hours of intense concentration, checking the chart, looking through binoculars, correcting for sideways drift, and generally trying not to hit anything. The wind came up in the afternoon which made it more difficult. We were tired.
 |
| Rover, Anchorage S of #8, Keku Strait, AK |
If we completely left the narrow pass, we would be out in Sumner Strait, and facing another 15 or 20 miles to reach a spot to spend the night. It was kind of late to do that, so we went in search of an anchorage. After squeezing through some tight spots, we ended up anchored in 21 feet of water in a narrow dead end slough that is very well protected. After careful calculations, we concluded that we will not be aground at low tide. That is, as long as the wind continues to blow out of the south. If it blows east or west we’ll be in the mud, but that is very unlikely given the current weather pattern.
For dinner we turned to cans and jars. We have way too much emergency food on board. We need to have food available in case we spend too many days away from stores, but we don’t need this much. Also, most of it was put on the boat in 2012 before our aborted trip to Alaska, and it’s not getting any younger. So no more gourmet meals – we’re now on survival rations. I did buy the salad fixings in Kake to soften the blow.
 |
| Morning Low Tide, Anchorage S of #8, Keku Strait, AK |
It rained during the night, but was just cloudy and misty on Thursday. The great surprise of the morning was the location of the boat with respect to the land. The wind had died overnight, and the boat had turned sideways in our very narrow anchorage. The morning low tide was minus 1.2 feet, and that left the boat still afloat, but with the rudder stuck in the mud. It wasn’t really any problem, but keeping your boat away from shore is a cardinal principle of safe boating, and it was rather disconcerting to wake up and look out the portlights to see mud rather than water.
We should have set a second anchor off our stern to keep the boat properly aligned. We discussed that, but didn’t follow through, mostly because we were tired, and it would have been a lot of work. In this case we escaped any harm, but good seamanship often requires a bit more work.
So we spent the morning waiting for more water. We baked some scones, and took Schooner on a walk on one of the nearby islands – well, twice a day they are islands, but not this morning. There was mud to deal with, of course, but it was normal mud, not that terrible glacial flour mud.
 |
| Anchorage S of #8, Keku Strait, AK |
Heading into Sumner Strait we passed Conclusion Island. This was named by Vancouver in 1793 to mark the end of his exploration for that season. It was some task to come up with names for all of the waterways and islands they explored. The names are heavily biased toward naval officers and English royalty and politicians. Conclusion Island is near Point Barrie, named after one of his petty officers, and across from Point Baker, named after one of his officers. It is very close to No Name Bay, where they apparently reached the end of their creativity, being no doubt anxious to head to Hawaii for the winter.
 |
| Post Office, Point Baker, AK |
Point Baker is a very small seasonal fishing community in a narrow inlet. We moored to the public dock, after getting a loud shout from locals to watch out for a submerged rock in front of us. This is an interesting and rather odd place. There are a number of floating buildings tied to the inside of the dock. This includes a café (unfortunately closed this season), a small store (open two hours a day four days a week), a laundry/shower, a post office, a community hall with a book and movie exchange, and a firehouse. The latter contains a small aluminum skiff with a large pump and nozzle in the center. All of the homes here are accessed from their docks. The ramp from the public dock ends at someone’s yard, with a gate and a “no trespassing” sign. So you can’t go ashore here, which is of some concern if you are a dog. There is also a fishing lodge across the inlet that seems quite busy.
 |
| Rover, Point Baker, AK |
We spent some time chatting with a fisherman from Wrangell with a wooden boat built in 1928. Schooner peed on the dock, and we called it a day.
 |
| Shelf Fungus, Point Baker, AK |
Friday was a very low tide, and we got to see the rock we had been warned about. It was pretty impressive. I took Schooner ashore past the forbidden gate so we could get into the woods and walk around a bit. It was early in the morning, and we didn’t encounter anyone to question us. There really wasn’t much of a place to walk. Up the hill behind the house were the fuel tanks for the dock, and a little bit past those was a microwave relay tower. That was about it. Clearly this is a place oriented toward water not toward land.
As we left, we encountered a whale hanging out at the entrance to the harbor. There was thick fog coming in off the ocean, but it all drifted over to the north side of Sumner Strait, and we were sailing along the south side. It was a cloudy day that gradually cleared up and became sunny and nice. We saw a few more whales, but it was otherwise a pretty uneventful passage. We turned on the radar so we could tell where we were on a rather featureless coast. If we turned on the GPS and the navigation program, we would easily know exactly where we were, but that is no fun. Trying to interpret the radar returns with the shape of the land on the chart provides considerably more entertainment (if you’re easily amused).
 |
| Exchange Cove, Prince of Wales Is, AK |
We went south down Clarence Strait, and anchored in Exchange Cove on Prince of Wales Island. It provided good protection from weather, but is rather featureless itself. It is very large, with no intimate nooks in which to anchor. So we anchored at a random spot in a reasonable depth, but it was a bit disappointing. The warm sunshine was nice, so we sat in the cockpit and relaxed, eventually rowing Schooner to shore. The approach to shore was very gradual, and that makes it difficult to land a dinghy, as you run aground when you are a long way from dry land.
We played some cribbage and some Scrabble. The latter was notable, in that I almost won. I never beat Jean at Scrabble, so this was a small triumph for me.
Saturday, August 10 was our last sailing day of this year’s journey. It was a beautiful warm sunny day that started with a lot of wind, but eventually became calm. We worked our way across Clarence Strait through a maze of small islands and unmarked rocks. It was very attractive, and looked like a nice place to spend some time and explore. Heading up Stikine Strait we passed a tug and barge headed south. From the smell, it was probably a barge full of garbage headed to Washington. There were a few sport fishermen out enjoying the warm weather.
 |
| Wrangell, AK |
Entering Zimovia Strait, we had a distant view of Wrangell, with glacier covered mountains in the background. It was very scenic, and nice to return to our new “home” on such a nice day. We found our stall in the marina, and tied up Rover for the last time this year. A friendly, talkative man who lives on his boat on our dock, came by to say hello and find out who we were. It was pretty clear that the electricity had not been turned on. In fact, there wasn’t even a meter at our stall, just an empty hole where you would expect a meter to be.
We took advantage of the warm, dry day to take our sails off, and put them inside. We removed them for the winter both to cut down on wind resistance during storms, and to reduce the wear and tear on them. It is a big task, and they are heavy and awkward to handle, but we managed to get them tucked into our quarterberth. This is a part of the boat that acts sort of like our garage, so it had to be emptied first. Moving around inside the boat is a bit more challenging with all this extra stuff, but it’s only for a few days.
We now have a long list of things to do on the boat before leaving it. We leave on the ferry on Thursday, so we have four days, which should be adequate to both get the work done, and do some exploring of the area. We are almost 5 miles from town, so we plan to rent a car to make our lives a bit easier. Hopefully we’ll remember how to drive a car.
So, now it’s Sunday, and getting the car turned out to be a bit of an adventure. We had to get to the airport to pick up the car, and we had to be there in a narrow time window. There are only two flights a day in Wrangell, one north and one south. The car rental business is only open when the planes arrive. So, at the appropriate time I called the only taxi in town, and he wouldn’t come get me. They are repaving the road, and he was afraid he would have to wait too long at the construction site, and thus lose other customers. That was pretty annoying. So I hitchhiked to the airport. I had to walk about a mile of the five mile trip, and got two rides. The first guy had to move his rifle off the seat for me, which gave me pause. But, it turned out he took tourists on his boat to the Anan Creek Bear Observatory, and the rifle was part of his job.
On the way back into town from the airport I picked up a couple walking. They didn’t look like they were walking for the fun of it, and I was empathetic. It turns out they were returning to their boat, having flown to Orcas Island in the San Juan Islands of Washington for a visit home, and were now ready to resume their cruise. It is amazing how quickly you can get somewhere in a car. I think we take cars too much for granted, but when you live without one for several months, you gain a new appreciation for the technology.
The man who is going to watch our boat over the winter came by after church, and we spent a pleasant half hour with him, reviewing the details of leaving the boat. He was pretty tired, as he had a poor night’s sleep. He has a cabin up the Stikine River, and yesterday afternoon, on his way home, he ran aground on a falling tide. He had to spend the entire night on a small, open boat, without much in the way of warm clothing. He said that the one positive aspect was that he saw a lot of shooting stars.
It was a warm, sunny day, and we spent the afternoon doing boat chores. We put chafe protection on the dock lines, we washed the salt off of the anchor chain, so it won’t rust, we put a coat of teak sealer on half the exterior teak, we put lemon oil on about one-third of the interior teak, we put silicone grease on the portlight gaskets, we removed the spinnaker halyards, we filled the fuel tank, we installed cleats on the dock to hold fenders, and so forth.
By the end of the day, we were beat. We took advantage of our new mobility, and drove downtown for dinner. Wrangell has a population of 2,000, and not much of a tourist industry, so its restaurant selection is decidedly limited. We chose the pizza place that is part of the Marine Bar. Much to our surprise, the pizza was wonderful. We also enjoyed watching the middle school kids of the owner taking orders over the phone, and generally helping out with the business.
Monday morning we were once again cruising into town in our car, and went for breakfast at the Diamond C Café. This gave us an opportunity to check e-mail, but more importantly, put us within walking distance of City Hall. We were therefore at the door when they opened, and immediately filled out the forms we needed to get electricity set up at our boat. These are the forms that the fax system in Kake was unable to handle. The lady there had all our stuff ready to go, and was very helpful. She said she would send someone out to install an electric meter as soon as possible.
 |
| View from Mt Dewey, Wrangell, AK |
With our electricity on the way, we were ready for a break, so we decided to hike up Mt Dewey. This is less impressive than it sounds, as Mt Dewey is the hill behind town. It is maybe 500 feet high, and the trailhead is on a city street halfway up. Its claim to fame is that John Muir once climbed it. On the summit he got caught in a rainstorm, and built a huge fire to keep warm. Down in town people were alarmed at the strange light reflecting off the clouds. Today the only sign at the summit says “No Fires.”
There is a nice view of the town and Zimovia Strait from the top, but the hike turned out to be mostly a social event. We chatted with a local woman, hiking with a Great Dane, a Labradoodle and a 7-month old baby. We spent a long time talking with four Australians who had come in on the ferry as part of a long trip around British Columbia and Alaska.
We then returned to work. Jean took pretty much all of our clothes and bedding off to the Laundromat, while I returned to the boat to finish sealing the exterior teak, work on repairing the deck damage that occurred with the Freya towing episode, connect the boat to the electric panel (which was already installed), apply some more lemon oil, and set up the dehumidifier so that the water will drain into the galley sink and thence overboard.
I also put all of the cushions outside to bake in the warm sunshine. It is remarkable how much moisture collects in a boat. Even in good weather, with the boat well ventilated, things get wet. The major problem is that people and dogs exhale a lot of water vapor, and it is also produced by cooking. The boat is sitting in cold water (about 55 degrees F), so this water vapor condenses on the inside of the hull that is below the waterline. About half of our living space is below water, so this condensed water can create a lot of mischief. Most of it ends up in the bilge, and is pumped overboard, but enough of it ends up in places that you would wish dry to cause a continual problem.
Tuesday was cloudy, and a bit less productive, as a fisherman boat neighbor came by to say hello. He turned out to be a remarkable talker, and this social event ate up much of the morning. We try to spend time with as many of the nearby boat owners that we can. Having a personal contact with people who walk by our boat frequently is a very good practice. They are much more likely to take an interest in the boat, and look out for any problems.
We drove downtown, and spent time in the two hardware stores looking for the few things we need to buy before leaving. For example we needed a small fan to circulate the air inside the boat to reduce the chance of mold growth. We also stopped by the small shop selling organic produce. We thought we might get some local things, but it was all imported from the lower 48. The lady in charge wrote up receipts using carbon paper, and figured the bills with a small calculator. We were buying one bunch of kale, but had to wait while the lady ahead of us laboriously bought $75 dollars of stuff.
Wednesday was warm and sunny, and we celebrated by changing the engine oil, the transmission fluid, and the fuel filter. The transmission is especially challenging, as you have to stand on your head and do it all by feel. A double-jointed midget could make a good living working on sailboats.
We made a discouraging discovery. The shelf that supports our muffler has come loose. We installed it last summer when we replaced the engine, and obviously didn’t do a very good job. Repairing it will take some thought and a lot of work in an impossibly tight spot. I’m afraid that will be our first chore after returning here next Spring.
 |
| Rainbow Falls Trail, Wrangell, AK |
One nice aspect of this marina is that directly across the street is a trail, built by the CCC, that goes into the forest along a creek, up to a waterfall, and eventually up and over the mountain. This provides a pleasant and convenient place to exercise Schooner. The only disadvantage is that after a quarter mile it turns into an Alaskan boardwalk trail going up the mountain, which is basically an endless set of stairs.
 |
| Rainbow Falls, Wrangell, AK |
Thursday, August 15 is our last day on the boat. We took it out into deep water to pump and rinse out the holding tank. Of course it then started to sprinkle, and we had a mad dash getting everything below before it got wet. This includes the dinghy oars, the dinghy mast and boom, the bamboo poles for the sunshade, the whisker pole, and the man-overboard float. The plan was to put all of these things below just before we left, as they occupy a lot of the remaining space. Well, we got it all in, and are now squeezed below listening to the rain beat on the deck. Alaska wasn’t about to let us have an easy departure, thinking it was all warm sunshine.
We need to get the car back to the airport when the plane arrives around 4:00, and then will have a leisurely dinner downtown before walking over to the ferry dock. The ferry leaves at 9:30, and that will be the end of this portion of the journey. I hope to find an internet connection to send this off before we leave.
It has been a remarkable and enjoyable voyage, and we are both looking forward to continuing it next year. Our only concern is the high probability that the weather will not be a repeat of this year’s exceptionally warm and dry season.
We’ll be driving home from Haines in our VW van. The route and schedule is a bit vague at this point, but I’ll try to post a follow up somewhere along the way
No comments:
Post a Comment