Warm Springs Bay, Baranoff Island, June 19: Hot Springs in Cold Weather

The hot springs in Warm Springs are the "go to - must see" spot in SE Alaska. So we went, us, Gay and Wyman and about 18 other boats, all at one dock, crammed in, rafted off and generally up close and personal. The mix is pleasure boaters and commercial fishing boats – this being a Wednesday and salmon fishing is permitted on only Thursday and Sunday – a perfect way to spend a day off – soaking in the hot springs.  

Warm Springs



Lake Baranoff

Of course there is a roaring waterfall – about 500 yards from our boat - and the spray is so mighty it  soaks our bow.  The dock is connected to a ramp that meets a boardwalk that fronts the “town” - a series of several shacks - one housing a masseuse, but no other commercial enterprise.  And the boardwalk leads everywhere - there are no paths in the woods, just miles of boardwalk across swamps and rugged terrain, leading to Lake Baranoff and the hot springs.

The Sophisticated Boardwalk

Our Friends Enjoying a Soak
with
The Falls Right Behind Them

The Falls in the Evening

We hike to the lake and then to the springs – a feat not for the faint of heart.  We  scale  tree roots, scramble over rocks up a hill and slide through the mud.  You have to work for your moment of Zen.  But so worth it.  The hot springs are like sitting in a really hot bath tub on the edge of Niagara Falls – and really loud.  We meet some guys from a fishing boat and they have lots and lots of beers.  We stay in the natural springs until we turn prunish, hot but all the while being doused by the cold falls. Then it’s out into the chilly evening air,  flushed and  wrinkled, and back to the boat.


We have dinner on board with Gay and Wyman – his shrimp catch from Red Bluff Bay, and then everyone congregates on the docks to socialize.  So different from our days of isolation and solitude when we were anchored.  A nice change.  

Red Bluff Bay, Baranoff Island, June 17-18, 2012: Bears and More Bears

It’s called Red Bluff for a reason – red granite walls line the bay entrance and then give way to dark green evergreens covering the mountains with a necklace of lime green deciduous foliage at the water’s edge.  And waterfalls - waterfalls everywhere.  You can hear their roar and feel their spray as we cruise through the bay to the head where we are surrounded by snow marbled mountains, a rocky beach with, of course, bears.  Jim concludes that God must have tucked heaven into SE Alaska.

One of Many

We anchor here with five other boats –  it feels as crowded as Miami after being the only two boats anchored for the last five nights.  There are even other dogs here competing for Zippys business grounds. 

Jim Going for the Falls

Swimming in Front of the Bears

By the time we drop our hook, the sun comes out – not the Alaska “A sunny day is a light drizzle” kind of sun but the real lower 48 states kind.  It stays with us for the next two days and we take full advantage – we dinghy up the river, kayak to the biggest waterfall in the bay where Jim paddles straight up the falls and rides out the current and wind like a surfer dude – well… a 64 year-old grandpa surfer dude.

At low tide we kayak to the beach where the bears frolic and we get within 150 yards of them – of course, I stay behind Gay, Wyman and Jim just in case…we have seen them swimming and they are fast.  Zippy is captivated by the grizzlies, as are we.   One of the bears takes it’s paw and splashes another one with water in an attempt to get some fun action and they play like this for hours.

And I Have Hundreds
of  These Bear Butt Shots

Jim and Wyman  set out their crab and shrimp pots – Wyman caught 88 shrimp the first night.  Jim caught two very large sun stars that did not want to leave the crab pots.  I guess instead of Red Bluff Bay Shrimp, we’ll be eating Costco Cove Chicken.

Not Dinner

Cannery Cove, Pybus Bay, Admiralty Island, June 15-16, 2012: Grizzlies and Dolphins and Orcas, Oh My!

Whale! Whale!

Our trip from the bear preserve south to Cannery Cove was filled with wild life sightings – a mother and baby orca swimming next to us, a breaching whale and dolphins – lots and lots of playful dolphins who like to ride the waves of the boat and crisscross in front of the bow.  We took a ton of pictures but they are too fast for me to capture on film.

We were in constant radio contact with Gay and Wyman who were cruising about a mile ahead of us and pointing out all the wild life activities – sometimes these sightings take on the competitive flavor of an Olympic Sport. 



Cannery Cove



      
Cannery Cove is also part of the Admiralty National Monument so we were treated to more bears combing the beach.  One night, taking Zippy to shore, we approached our stop and Jim said “Is that rock moving?”  No, it’s just a big ole grizzly hogging our landing spot.  We are getting so blasé we just shrugged and headed further down the shore to an adjacent island – well, only an island in high water – and as we got off a Sitka black tailed deer skedaddled from the shore and swam off with Zippy in hot pursuit.  Suddenly Zippy didn’t mind the 40 degree salt water but he did stop when the water reached his belly. The next morning when we again got to the island, the deer was followed by a wobbly fawn, smaller than Zippy.  Jim thinks it may have been born overnight.   The mother was not leaving this time so we peacefully shared the 1,000 foot spit of land.  I swear, you can’t go to the bathroom room around here without your camera.

Cannery Cove has a fishing lodge, Pybus Point Lodge, and they allow pleasure boaters to drop-in for  dinner with their guests, served family style around a big 25 person rectangular table.  It was fun to chat with fisherman from all over the country and partake of  bowls and bowls of fresh crab.  Outside the eagles swarmed the docks for the fish remnants from the fish gutting and cleaning of the fisherman’s catch – an amazing view during dinner – everyone feasting on the ocean’s bounty.

Pybus Lodge

Unfortunately, we were socked in with rain and…sleet – yes, icy pellets shot at us in the evening and pelleted us in the morning - so we hunkered down in the boat except for when we had to take Zippy for his three shore visits.  Then we suit up:  warm clothing, rain pants, rain hat, rain jacket, life jacket over rain jacket, knee high boots, towels to dry the dinghy, towels to dry Zippy, and then off to shore with the wind, rain and sleet pummeling us in the face.  Back to the boat to disrobe and hang everything in the engine room to dry for our next outing.  Who needs exercise with all this activity? Is this really June?

Admiralty Island National Monument, June 14, 2012: Keep Those Federal Tax Dollars Coming

Pack Creek

Celestine inched up to Pack Creek Bear Observatory, in Admiralty Island National Park ,  shrouded in fog and drenched in rain, searching for the 4 florescent orange buoys that mark the area, when a skiff surged over and Jane, of  Alaska Fish and Game, directed us on where to drop anchor and how to come ashore in our dinghy.  When the boat was secure we  suited up in full rain gear and headed to the beach where US Forest Ranger Ehren, from Oklahoma, met us. Once we disembarked, he tied up our dinghy to a continuous line with a pulley system and then towed it back out into the bay - away from the shore so bears do not get into them.  Hmm…

Ehrn Ready to Assist Us

This designated wilderness area on Admiralty Island, exceeds 1 million acres and is home to approximately 1,600 grizzly bears, one per square mile.  The Alaska Fish and Game Service has an employee as does the US Forestry Service – and they have rifles, but no shots have been fired in 56 years.  This is comforting on many levels. 

Ehren gave us a brief orientation on how to react if we are approached by the habituated bears – don’t run,  stand your ground until they retreat – uh huh, I won’t run, no, not me  – and then we were off,  the four of us (Wyman & Gay) clustered in a pack – safety in numbers -  to walk to the viewing area.   Jane and her rifle met us there: a large green rolling pasture with a burbling creek, surrounded by lush green mountains.  A high powered viewing scope gave us an up close and personal look at  a 26 year-old grizzly  pigging out on the sedge grasses, another grizzly lying on her back with paws in the air snoozing and two other bears frolicking.  Meanwhile, in a tree above us, 2 baby eaglets were being watched by mom and dad.  Really…, has Disney been here staging this?

Jane Guarding Us

Noshing

We were glued to this nature extravaganza for about an  hour and then embarked on an unguided 3 mile round-trip hike up into the forest to a wooden platform with a ladder – the only man-made structure in the wilderness preserve – overlooking the creek.  When the salmon run – which they weren’t yet – the bears congregate in the river to feed off the fish.  Even though we didn’t encounter any grizzlies on our hike, their presence was felt.   The path was strewn with large leafed Skunk plants carelessly yanked out by the bears for tuber and root munching pleasure and, predictably after such a feast,  their scat also littered the path.  Jane met us on our way back – she claimed she wanted a hike but I think she was checking on our well-being.  And really, should we be allowed to walk around like this, unsupervised, in the midst of these grizzlies?

Clamming with Mom

An Evening Outing

We spent the night anchored just yards from the beach where a mama bear  cruised  the shoreline teaching her two cubs to “clam,”   dig out the clam, use a paw to pop it open and then down the hatch.  Jim and I had to scan the shore for bears before taking Zippy for his business and again, Jim stayed with the boat while I took on the dangerous shore duty, singing and talking loudly to alert grizzlies of my presence so they would not be unexpectedly scared.  I was, on the other hand, expectedly scared.

Waiting for Zippy to Come Ashore

The dedication of these federal and state employees is remarkable.  They work ten days on, four off, living in primitive conditions: tents with no fresh water, no showers and minimal heat.  Thank you, US Forest Service and Alaska Wildlife, for making this amazing place possible.

Also waiting for Zippy

Le Conte Glacier, Frederick Sound, June 7, 2012: True Blue

Our First Glacier

We have never seen glaciers – and Alaska is all about the glaciers – and had no idea what to expect, but I can guarantee that nothing could have prepared us for the splendor and magnitude of our first encounter.  Le Conte Glacier is on the mainland, the southernmost active tidewater glacier in North America.  And it is blue, really, really blue - I have a new appreciation for  the term “ice blue.”

Color not Photo-Shopped

Seals Hanging Out

Scott,  a local guide, took us on this trip as Le Conte Bay is choked with icebergs which have “calved” off the glacier  and local knowledge is crucial to getting in and out.  He easily navigated his aluminum run-about through the bay, bouncing off the icebergs – some the size of a two story house - like bumper cars – only with the added thrill of crunching, grinding and scraping noises as we pushed and prodded our way through the bay to the glacier.  As an added nature bonus, seals and sea lions go into the bay to give birth so the iceberg “bits” were strewn with sea lions and their pups.  The eagles also make an appearance, hovering  over the area and  making off with the after-birth.

Ice Choked Bay with Glacier in Distance

There is fog, clouds, rain, drizzle, mist and showers for our afternoon viewing but Scott said the blue is sometimes most dramatic in those conditions as sunny skies can wash out the color.  I believe him – did we mention how blue it was?  Scott told us the color is from the ice being densely compacted and as the chunks fall off, oxidize and start to melt, they turn white going to clear. 

The glacier is many thousands of years old –according to guidebooks and legends - and so of course we did what all tourists visiting the glacier do, we plucked a glacier chunk from the bay and hauled it back to the boat to use in a glass of  20 year old scotch.  We were told it is valued for its slow melting rate.  Of course we don’t have 20-year old scotch on hand – we don’t have any scotch and further more, we don’t even drink scotch.  I guess I’ll  just use it in my two day old Pepsi.

Entering the Bay

Ice Blue

Petersburg, June 6 – 12: All Fishing All the Time

                                                                    Fishing Boats in Petersburg Harbor

This is the last port of call for our friends Barb and William, who are returning to Seattle, and their farewell weather is typical Petersburg, rain with skies clearing to light sprinkles, followed by drizzle and showers.  And you get to see a lot of this soggy mess as there is now almost 18 hours of daylight.  It doesn’t matter if we go to bed at 10 PM or midnight, the sky is about the same – not really dark and not really light – but who can tell with all the fog.   I woke up at 3 AM the other day and it was daylight out.  I’m not sure when they think they actually have “night” but we haven’t seen it.


Looking at Frederick Sound from Petersburg

Petersburg. a Norwegian fishing town on Mitkof Island,  is the complete opposite of Ketchikan – they don’t really care about the tourists and we like that about them.  It’s a working fishing community – according to the visitors guide, $36.3 million in seafood was caught and processed in 2010 – and the gigantic fishing vessels filling the harbor prove it – as big as the Deadliest Catch boats – and dwarfing the few pleasure boats moored there.  Petite cruise ships - 80 passengers or so - stop occasionally for a few hours.  Instead, the docks are hopping with fisherman readying their boats for the start of the commercial crab season.  The cacophony of every possible electric tool buzzing, whirring and banging let us know that these are serious fisherman on a mission.

Eagle Planning on Riding Fishing Boat Mast

It is beautiful here – and I don’t mean just the tall blond Viking-esque guys and gals walking around town in their knee high rain boots – known affectionately as “Alaska Slippers” – the scenery is out of a Norwegian fairy tale, very green, foggy and mossy.    We hike, eat crab – our boat neighbor, a resident, gave us 4 crabs – cooked and cleaned – as we watch nature unfold. 

We re-connect with our new cruising friends, Mellow Moments and Safari.  They are themselves parting company, Mellow Moments going to Juneau and Safari heading in the direction we are, so we decide to cruise together for a few weeks.  They go on ahead and we will join them in a few days as I must return to Seattle for two days to take care of “stuff” and lucky Jim gets to enjoy Petersburg for a couple more days.

Meyers Chuck & Wrangell, June 3-6: The Small Towns of SE Alaska

Voyage to Meyers Chuck

Our friends, Barb & William join us for a week, arriving in Ketchikan just as the storm left.  We leave  for Meyers Chuck, a "must see" town on the Cleveland Peninsula.  As in all things Alaska, we are using the word "town" loosely - this is a burg, a hamlet really, of 20 people and no amenities.  One seasonal couple that lives there takes their boat, the Provider, to Seattle for the winter and then in the spring, all of the 18 other residents fly to Seattle and  have a Costco buying spree. Then they sail Provider, filled with a years worth of the town's supplies, back to Meyers Chuck.

Picturesque Meyers Chuck

Once we are anchored, William and Jim set out
 to drop the pots for shrimp and crab, sadly, no hits and we must eat store bought food - like common land lubbers.  We make the most of it and stay up to see a beautiful full moon rise.

No Crab for You

Sunset in Meyers Chuck

Moon Rise

 Our next stop is Wrangell, on Wrangell Island, population  approximately 2,000.  It was originally built by the Russians, leased to the British and then sold to the US.  This town has a real marina full of fishing vessels and we tie up to a dock - a real city experience.



The Wrangell Harbor

A walk into town takes us past a flock of eagles swooping  to and fro.  They sing as we go by, a dainty trilling sound completely out of character with their ferocious demeanor and threatening beak.  The buildings in town look like an unadorned old western movie set, except, the main road is torn up, as are the sidewalks.  We did walk Petroglyph Beach where we were greeted by a Labrador Retriever who promptly brought us his log to throw in the water, which he did over and over for our entire beach visit. His owner makes good use of visitors.

 Petroglyph Beach

                                                                                                                          A Buoy Collection

An Eagle Guards the Harbor

Revillagigedo Island, May 28: Last Day in Paradise

Exiting the Fjords, and as a final farewell, a school of about 25 dolphins criss-crossed our boat when we left Walkers Cove and swam with us for about fifteen minutes. They dove and surfaced like lightning - so fast I couldn't even get a picture.

We made our way around the North tip of Revillagigedo Island via the Behm Canal, and spent what would be our  last night of anchorage in Yes Bay, home to a fishing resort that on Memorial Day, was remarkably, still closed for the season.  By then, rain and mist moved in and we experienced the last of the Fjords in all their gloomy blue-grays with dots of bright lime green moss sprinkling the shore. 

Exiting

Yes Bay

When we got to Yes Bay our two friends, Safari & Mellow Moments, were already  anchored there.  We had been in radio touch with them but had lost track of their whereabouts.  We were all headed to Naha Bay the next morning and decided we would anchor together in Naha and do some hiking to a nearby lagoon.

Naha Bay is a small cove with room for about three boats and three boats were already anchored there when we arrived.  Nevertheless, we gamely set our anchor but it dragged - so we moved our position and tried again.  By this time, the wind picked up and a river current was flowing right at us.  It was clear we would not be able to anchor there so decided to head out but our anchor was stuck.  With an audience of three other boats,  we fussed and maneuvered and backed up and put on a great show of getting out of there, which we finally did.

Knudson Cove was our fall back destination, a few hours south.   Ketchikan Harbor has a dock there with public moorage.  By then the sun reappeared and we had a happy few hours cruising.  Once we got there, the bay was dotted with fisherman - the Salmon Derby was on.  Nevertheless we found a great slip and tied right up.  Only problem, it was not the public dock but a private marina.  We identified the public docks, untied and moved over and retied.  Unfortunately, the dock was too short and I was unable to get off.  OK, no problem, Jim turned us around and we tied up - again.  Yea.  Zippy and I got off and went to shore to reconnoiter the area.  By the time we returned, Jim had the boat started again - turns out that even though the the U.S. Coastal Pilot stated that boats up to 65 feet could moor there, this was incorrect - only boats 35 feet were welcome. 

At this point, we decided to head back to Ketchikan, our ultimate destination as we have guests to pick up later in the week.  We made it and tied up just as the wind started howling, bringing a storm that would hammer us with high winds and non-stop rain for the next week.  Whew, the safety of a harbor when all hell breaks loose.

Calm Before the Storm

Ketchikan
Cruise Ship Alley