Appleton Cove, July 2-3, 2015

Appleton Cove

 

We leave Sitka for our voyage to Juneau to fetch our younger daughter and her family.  Our anchorage on the way last night was Appleton Cove.  Kind of charming when a mama brown bear and her black baby cub poke their heads out of the woods for a brief appearance.  That was followed by another grizzly with her two nearly adult cubs. Otherwise, it is rainy and we are spoiled now by weeks of sun.  Plus, the wind picked up and our boat is swinging wildly, the shore flashing by like a movie on fast forward, and we feel ourselves drifting. 

Even with an anchor watch alarm it turns out to be an all-nighter for Jim who gets up hourly for anchor watch – I do my part and sleep through it all – hey, someone has to be alert tomorrow to operate the boat.  And now, this morning, we hoist the anchor in wind that is blowing steadily.  I am happy to leave.

 As soon as we exit the cove,  radio reception kicks in and we hear that Chatham Strait has a small craft advisory – winds of 30 mph (a gale is considered 35 mph) and 6 feet seas.  Oh, I don’t like this at all and suggest turning right back around.  But since we are already under way, Jim counters – we should continue our trek east through Peril Strait (that’s right Peril) and then check out Chatham Strait when we get there – he calls it “sticking our nose out.”  Already, we are experiencing rain, fog, white caps, the unexplained presence of some sun, and a heck of a ride.

The waves collide with our boat, drenching the pilot house - it is like being doused by a fire hose.  Two hours later, and a little woozy, before we even get to the lighthouse marking the entrance to Chatham Strait, I can see the 6 feet waves building in the distance – it looks like a two story wall of water aiming right for us.  We swerve the boat 180 degrees and hightail it out of there.

Jim searches the chart for a place to lay low until this blows over and we head for Hanus Bay, its name alone a warning.  We drop the anchor, wait for it to bite, but it just clatters across the rocks.  Maybe if we go a little closer to shore we’ll find some mud to catch the anchor.  Anchor up, anchor down – no go.

Well, there is another bay an hour farther west, Saook, so off we go, in the rain and 25 mph winds – and a rainbow.  Yes, this place looks perfect – the bay is deep so we are fairly well protected from the worst of the fetch building now in Peril Strait.  Jim braves the rain yet again to drop anchor.   Twenty minutes later, the anchor is clanging like its being dragged across a concrete parking lot.  We try another spot and repeat - anchor up, anchor down -nope. 

Rainbow in the middle of the storm

I fantasize about a sturdy dock and stable internet, maybe a little tapas and a stiff drink or two… Sitka.  But I snap out my reverie as we need to relocate.  Well, Appleton Cove is just another 3 nautical miles, and I remember it very fondly now – I loved it there!   When we get to the mouth of Appleton, it is clear and somewhat sunny, while all around us it is still windy, foggy and rainy.  We drop the anchor and it holds tight.  Ten hours after we left, we are right back where we started our day…, now, about that stiff drink.

A Calm sky outside Appleton Cove

 

Sitka, June 26 - July 1, 2015

On the way to Sitka

 

Civilization!  Lipstick!  Restaurants!  We are in a real city of 9,000 on Baranoff Island and they don’t roll up their streets at 8 PM.  On the contrary, this is quite the cosmopolitan place.  Originally settled by the Tlingit Tribe, it was stormed by the Russians in the late 1700’s, (they optimistically named it the capital of “Russia America”) and then purchased by the U.S. in 1867.  But the Russian culture remains strong here - this must be where Sarah Palin got her knowledge of Russia, reading Sitka street signs.

Whale!  Well, Whale Breathing

Whale!



Two Whales Swimming Together

Sitka, has natural beauty to spare – surrounded by craggy, pointy mountain peaks to the north, south and east and the Pacific Ocean to the west.  Its weather leaves a little something to be desired though – highs in the summer average 60.  From what we experienced, it is sunny every day and rainy every day.

Juvenile Eagle

Since Sitka is known for its fishing, Jim embarked on his own version of the Deadliest Catch -  a half day fishing trip – we will now call him “the provider” as he hauled home 4 large salmon including the very rare white king salmon.  Then I brought out my favorite kitchen tool – the  vacuum sealer - for an afternoon of sucking air out of plastic bags.  Dinners on board just improved.

Sitka Waterways from Mt. Harbor

We rented a car for a scenic drive up the twisty, narrow, gravel road to the top of Mt. Harbor, an elevation of approximately 2500 feet.  This might not have been too bad except that other people had the same idea and the road is wide enough for exactly one small car.  Each time a vehicle came the other way – usually a monster truck - we’d swerve into one of the numerous turnouts.  Unfortunately, the turnouts themselves are skinny with a sheer drop off and nothing but loose gravel between you and the bottom of the mountain.  Despite my constant screaming “we’re going to die” we made it all the way to the top where I finally pulled my nails out of Jim’s arm.  There, a parking lot and foot path leads to the summit and a breathtaking 360 degree view.   

The summit has picnic tables and grills.  We chuckled about how hard it would be to organize a picnic all the way up here and then, sure enough, we encountered a family with their dog in the parking lot unloading their picnic supplies:  charcoal, burgers, buns, and of course, a handgun -  just in case a grizzly  tries to wrestle you for the burgers.

Sitka can only be reached by boat or plane and we drove our rental car reaching the “Road Ends” signs at both the north and south side of town.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sitka Harbor at Sunset

We ate out every night and had wonderful meals, tapas style, white king salmon, and rockfish – Petersburg, can you hear me – civilization, restaurants!!

Leaving Sitka

 

Red Bluff June 23 - 25, 2015

 

Uh Oh

 
Still basking in our Zen experience from yesterday, we shove off bright and early for Red Bluff, our favorite anchorage from 2012.  Jim loved it so much he said that God must have tucked heaven right into Red Bluff Bay.  This year it may be slipping dangerously close to third place.  We will need to re-evaluate. 

Frederick Sound is again sunny and calm so we have a smooth and uneventful ride for the first two hours.  But, looming before us in Chatham Strait, is a fog bank –surely it will burn off before we get there.  Meanwhile, Jim is working down in the bilge trying to fix our waste pump – the less said about that, the better. 

Suddenly, that fog bank is on top of us, around us, and everywhere you look.  South Chatham Strait has disappeared.  No worries, our trusty radar is on the job.  Having been in these conditions many times, I feel comfortable operating the boat using only instruments.

Several miles go by when suddenly, I can’t keep our boat on course and we are doing crazy eights.  I spend a fair amount of time trying to right the situation to no avail. Now I know what they mean about pilots becoming disoriented in the fog - I could be upside down for all I know.  I do the only sensible thing - I panic and yell for backup.  Jim takes command of the navigation and proceeds to swerve all over too.  The chart states that there is a magnetic disturbance in this area …there’s a disturbance all right, but it isn’t just of the magnetic variety. 

We finally get ourselves somewhat back on course and according to the chart - there is the bay entrance, right in front of us, but we don't actually see it.  We make an executive decision to stop the boat and wait until the fog clears to enter.  A small cruise ship that has been traveling with us decides to do the same and they take this opportunity to fish.  We take the opportunity to fix the pump.

Entrance to Red Bluff

Hours go by – three hours to be exact – three hours of bobbing and fixing.  All around us the fog lifts - except at the entrance to Red Bluff.  Radio reports from inside the bay claim that it is sunny and beautiful there - boats coming out are stunned to see, well...nothing.

Finally,  the curtain rises and we proceed into Red Bluff – it is as majestic as we recalled.  Steep pine covered mountains, waterfalls cascading to the water’s edge and a brown bear grazing at the shore.  Perfect, except for the ten boats all clustered in the same place, at the head of the bay where we will now wedge ourselves too.

 

By the time we are anchored, the bear has lumbered off and the wind is howling at 25 mph.  Too windy to launch either the kayaks or the dingy.  A cruise ship and two mega yachts come in and anchor near us.  It’s like being at a boat show, still very beautiful… but not heaven.