Sunday, July 8, 2012

June 20-21, 2012, Ell Cove and Deep Bay, Baranoff Island: Final Solitude before the City

Ell Cove

At 7 AM the big fishing boat tied behind us in Warm Springs loudly leaves and another commercial fishing boat, that can’t possibly fit into that same spot, nevertheless circles the harbor, eyeing it with intentions of squeezing in somehow and jamming us in in the process.  We start our engine and rush out like thieves fleeing the scene of a crime.  Safari is on our heels having also been bumped out by a fishing boat they had been rafted to.  We both cruise on up the coast for 8 nautical miles and duck into tiny Ell Cove.  By 9:30 AM we drop anchor and by 10:30 AM the sun is out, kayaks are in the water and we’re off to explore. 
Actual Sand

We paddle around the corner to a neighboring cove and as we turn the bend, instead of the typical rocky beach we spy a white sandy beach!!  And the water is turquoise!!!  I feel like we are in a “Lost” episode where we hurl through a space warp and end up in the Caribbean.  We drag our kayaks onto the shore and embark on a hike of the mountain behind us for  spectacular views of Chatam Strait.

                                                                         
Chatam Strait from Mountain We Scaled, (Huff, Huff)
Tree Roots We Conquered in Climb
                                                                         

Back in the harbor, we notice millions of tiny just-hatched jellyfish floating in the water and later that night, when our generator suddenly overheats and stops, we find millions of tiny jellyfish that have been sucked into our raw water strainer.  And what better time to clean said strainer than after a wonderful dinner and relaxing glass of wine.  But hey, on the plus side, it may be 11 PM but it’s still daylight out.
Millions of Jellyfish - Yuk


The next day we anchor fifty-one nautical miles north in Deep Bay – our last anchorage before Sitka.  Dodging the crab pots filling the bay we find a spot for the evening.  A low-grade feeling of melancholy hoovers over us because we are now in love with the anchoring way of life.  Marina sluts no more – we have morphed into anchor addicts.   I had no idea I could live off the grid this well – of course, it’s much easier to live off the grid when you have a generator, bread maker and hair dryer on board - but still….
If Only I Could Get This Thing Started




No comments:

Post a Comment