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




 

Misty Fjords May 24 - 28th: Magical

Misty Fiords National Monument
Behm Canal

The name  alone, "Misty Fjords,"  just makes you want to visit this 2.3 million acre National Forest, much of it designated as a wilderness area.  With the regions 254+ days of rain a year, it conjures up a moody and brooding Alaska, full of misty rain and wispy fog.  So imagine our  surprise when we arrived to blue skies and bright sunlight.  We later spoke to people who have visited up to 5 times over the past 10 years and they have never seen the Fjords in anything but rain.  They never got a chance to see the tops of the 4,000 - 5,000 foot surrounding mountains.  But fear not, even though we entered in the sunlight, days later we exited in mist.

Punchbowl Cove

The steep mountains and deep inlets of the Fjords were carved by glaciers thousands of years ago and some of the granite cliffs look like they were clawed by a giant bear with deep groves and waterfalls pouring down their sides.  There are charming coves with adorable names branching off the Behm Canal, the main canal running through the wilderness area, each more jaw droppingly beautiful than the last.

We spent our first night in Shoalwater Pass, anchored, with just two other boats.  Jim immediately set out his crab pot and within two hours came back with dinner - two large male crabs.  We are truely living off the grid now,  no electricity, foraging for food, eating crab by tearing off the claws with our bare hands.  Ah, life in remote Alaska.

Looking Unhappy
with the Knowledge
Of What He Must Do Next

Sunning
While My Man Slays Dinner

On day two we cruised for hours through the Fjords marveling at the sights and the stillness - there are no roads, no power lines, no way to reach the area except by boat or float plane.  And while we saw just one other boat, we did see float planes, diving down to the shoreline for a quick stop for tourist photo ops and then buzzing off again like WWII fighter planes. 

We anchored for the night in Walkers Cove, a place so remote and magical that we stayed for two nights.  There were no other boats in the cove except for a tourist boat that disgorged 25 kayakers for the day and then left promptly at 5 PM.  It was just us and two grizzlies for the next two nights.

Anchored in Walkers Cove

Yikes!

While thrilling to see the bears, they presented a challenge for us as they controlled the shore.  Every morning and evening, for hours at a time, they combed the beach hunting for food.  They just came out of hibernation and were hungry and insatiable.   We  dinghy-ed  Zippy to shore under close watch -  Jim would man the dinghy, ready for a quick get away, while I guarded  Zippy on shore.  Do you see anything wrong with this scenario?  But I'm sure Jim would've waited for us....

                                                                                    Sunset in the Misty Fjords 

Ketchikan, May 19 – 24, 2012: Catching our Breath

What to say about Ketchikan?  Well, first I’d like to say: noisy.  But it’s not just that, no, it’s so much more - loud, raucous, nerve shattering sound all day.  There is one main north-south road and no major east-west arterials  as Ketchikan  is enclosed by mountains on the east and the Tongass Narrows waterway  on the west.  So the truck and bus noise is amplified as it bounces off the rock cliffs.  And the sea planes  are constantly landing and taking off - a cacophony of engines. 

Cruise Ship Leaving Ketchikan

The cruise ships are  relatively quiet, even though they are about two blocks long and 10 stories high.  Downtown Ketchikan, a cute waterfront – they sell really good popcorn -  is ruled by the passengers.  Businesses open at the arrival of the first ship and close when the 
last one of the day departs.  And that time changes daily.  If you ask merchants their hours, they’ll tell you they are open when the ships are in.  Period. 

Dinner Outing - Yes, Very Cold

Having made such a push to get here, we  are happy to stay put for a few days and take  care of business, boat maintenance, catch up on e-mail and re-provision.  Plus, there is a Starbucks near our marina so daily caffeine junkets are on the schedule. We meet up with our boat buddies and cocktail companions who arrived a day after we did, and exchange cruising strategies and destinations. 

I'm Looking at You!

Creek Filled with Salmon?

Ward Lake

We feel a little sluggish after being on the boat so long and decide a walk is in order. We  hop a bus with Zippy (stuffed in a duffel bag as we have no carrier)  to a trail north of town leading around picturesque Ward Lake.  It’s a bracing hike in the pouring rain – Jim insisted it was a drizzle, but  conceded it was heavy – yes, it was heavy enough to  drench us, and happened upon an eagle perched over a rushing waterfall, waiting for the first salmon in the spring migration.  Our moment of zen in the city.

Zippy Travels Ward Lake in Style

Totem Pole Pake

A few good dinners and a little sightseeing later and we are ready to leave and see the real Alaska.

Prince Rupert to Ketchikan, May 17 – May 19; Back in the USA



Hauling his Blue Truck

Prince Rupert

The cruise from Baker Inlet to Prince Rupert is reminiscent of the Queen Charlotte Sound crossing; worse conditions but shorter duration.  Stormy winds kick up ferocious waves that toss our boat around like a bathtub toy.  Nevertheless, no one gets ill and we arrive unscathed in Prince Rupert  four hours later. 

This is the last stop and town in BC before entering American waters.  Like so much of British Columbia that we have visited,  it once  had a thriving economy based on the lumber industry but the pulp mill closed and its biggest source of revenue is now the large fishing fleet and some tourism,  although locals say the cruise ships have  stopped coming.   It has a  population of approximately 12,000 and from what we’ve witnessed, the eagle population is even greater.  They’re like crows continually swooping above us. 

Our Last Evening in BC

Our new boating buddies and cocktail companions, Terry and Hans & Gay and Wyman are also here in “Rainy Rupert” and so we have…cocktails, and prepare for our voyage to Chatham Sound and across Dixon Entrance, the last of the Pacific Ocean waters we must traverse to reach Ketchikan.  A weather front with high winds is moving in and we have to skedaddle on Saturday May 19^th or we will once again be weather prisoners.

We awake to sunshine (although a local says that sunshine is a light drizzle so I'm not sure what they call  this ) and pull out of the moorage slip at 6:05 AM, full daylight in these northern latitudes.   It is  glassy calm trip across Dixon Entrance - Gay later said that we would never see Dixon Entrance that calm again – oh no, we have to go back home that way.  We're elated when we cross the "border" and  re-enter American waters, reclaiming our Bill of Rights.

Right side - BC; Left side, US

Ten hours after our departure, we reach Ketchikan, home of the cruise ships.  The waterfront is littered with 3 -5 ships every day -  7 days a week.  The local paper posts a daily schedule of the names of the ships, arrival and departure times, and number of passengers,  anywhere  from  8,600 people to a mere 2,000 per day.

Jim & His First Mate Monitoring Re-entry

The First of the Cruise Ships

The sun is shining when we arrive, an equally unusual occurrence in this rain forest  that sees approximately 160 days of rain a year.  It could be pouring hail-balls and we wouldn’t care, we are so astonished that we’ve actually made it all the way here.  And so quickly it  now seems.  We aren’t  in the San Juan Islands anymore, we've crossed great oceans.!  We're water warriors.. 

Ketchikan

We mark our arrival with a great dinner at the foot of the harbor and celebrate with a bottle of Champagne.  Alaska at last.

Ketchikan Waterfront

Baker Inlet, May 16: An Anchorage in Heaven

Amazing

Crab Pots Heading North

                                                                                             

















Today is our first Orca sighting, three of them, right next to our boat.  Their perfect synchronized swimming would earn them at "10" at the Summer Olympics.  We decide then and there to buy a new camera with a telephoto lens. 



The Captain and his First Mate Manning the Couch

After 8 plus hours on the water we duck into Baker Inlet for the night.  During the day, we’ve talked to Hans and Terry on the radio, one of the couples we met while  weather hostages in Port McNeil.  They're  also heading to Ketchikan and are just a few miles behind us so they decide to join us at this anchorage. 

Trip to Baker Inlet

The Baker Inlet entrance takes us through a narrow, rock lined, “S” shaped passage wide enough for exactly one boat.  Fog has started to settle and this remote  anchorage, accessible only by boat, is drenched in a beautiful steel blue hue.  Four miles later, at the head of the inlet , we're greeted by a black bear  prowling the water's edge.  Two other boats are already anchored here, one of them, Safari, is owned by  the smart couple who crossed  Queen Charlotte Sound a day after we did,  avoiding the rip-roaring ride we had.  Before we've even dropped anchor, Gay hails us on the radio to announce cocktails in 30 minutes. 

The Entry

Terry and Hans have now also arrived and everyone launches their dinghy and makes a bee line for the party boat.  It turns out that Terry and Hans are friends with Gay and Wyman (they are all Californians) and are actually traveling to Ketchikan together.   We gain some great local knowledge from Gay and Wyman as they have cruised Alaska several times.  And here, in the middle of nowhere, we have drinks and appetizers worthy of a first class restaurant while the rain falls and the bear grazes on shore.  

Our Home for the Night

Finlayson Channel, Tolmie Channel, and Graham Reach, May 15: Waterfall Alley to The Ruins



Morning Sun

From Shearwater it’s a nine hour run – or shall we say putter, at 8.5 knots - up the coast through miles of a beautiful mountain lined waterway - a blue ribbon through  narrow passages of green walls of wilderness sprinkled with waterfalls.  There are so many we actually stop yelling “look, look!”  It’s the happy version of shock and awe.



Our First Waterfall

And Another One



Last One - Promise

After 9 hours we're tired, it’s getting late and anchoring possibilities are limited in this remote area so we stop for the night in an old abandoned fishing and lumbering community on Princess Royal Island.  The guidebook warns that it’s in disrepair but doesn't prepare us for the extent of the decay.  After a sunny day of eye-popping beauty, we turn the corner, enter the bay and are met with a scene worthy of a slasher movie.  Ramshackle buildings toppling down the hillside, overgrown vegetation and lumber debris strewn everywhere.  This is equally eye-popping,  in a different kind of way – nature is aggressively reclaiming the landscape.

Yikes!

We are momentarily stunned but as promised by the guidebook, there is a “dock” – wobbly and  lopsided, just  skimming the water.  The dock is anchored to land by some logs in the water that are tied with some frayed rope to something on shore, rocks maybe -  we’re really not sure.  There is a small power boat tied to it and since it’s too late to go anywhere else,  we also tie up and hope for the best.  An abandoned power boat and small rowboat are  perched on the rocks about 10 feet above us, looking  like they will catapult straight down onto us.  


Our Dock

Picturesque Butedale

There is a rumored “caretaker” and one of the buildings looks occupied -  smoke is coming out of a chimney and underwear and socks are hanging on a clothes line to dry - but the only signs of life we see are a black bear combing the shore.  On the plus side, it’s real quiet  and there’s  no moorage fee. We later learned from some other boaters that the caretaker charges boaters 75 cents a foot for the hospitality of  a Butedale moorage.