Heading South, Chasing Summer: Aug 2 – Aug 10, 2012



Verney Falls, Lowe Inlet

A 6 AM Ketchikan departure - in the rain, 54 degrees, our standard operating  weather  (SOW) while we have been in Alaska – and ten hours later we cross the border, face down customs and arrive  back in Prince Rupert, BC.  Rainy and 58 degrees – oh, it is getting warmer.  But I am undeterred – this is August after all, so out come the summer clothes which were stored under the carpet, beneath the floorboards deep in the bilge.  Now, however, they are ready to deploy at a moment’s notice – like our fire extinguishers or flares, ready, but never really necessary.

We are eager to explore some anchorages we missed on the way up the coast and our first stop is Lowe Inlet, reputed to have a beautiful waterfall.  As we head south traveling through Grenville Channel, the rain gives way, the clouds part and we have sun.  Our spirits are buoyed as we turn off into the inlet and drop anchor right in front of Verney Falls.  There is no time to ooh and aah over the waterfall yet as we have been invaded by flesh eating flies that look like bees and are as large birds.  They are swarming the boat but we have screens to install and our handy electronic zapper which keeps us busy for some time.

When the threat is  finally reduced, we hop into the dinghy to get a look at the waterfall up close but we can hardly get close as the salmon for clogging the way.  Hundreds of them are encircling us -   launching themselves out of the water, splashing and creating great havoc.  As a Native American told us in Alaska, they are jumping because they are happy.  We’d we pretty happy too if one jumped right into the boat – instant sushi – and me without my wasabi paste.

We finally look up at the falls, and there, sitting on a rock overlooking the cascading water with fish trying to jump the rapids, is a black bear.  He is dining on said sushi. We spend a long time peering as he lumbers  to the waterfall edge, grabs a jumping salmon, carries it to his rock and starts munching – without even any soy sauce or ginger.  He repeats this exercise over and over – a fellow sushi lover – and a greedy one.

The next day, with sun blazing, we head to Khutze Inlet, a five hour ride through winding channels lined with evergreens. Just off Princess Royal Channel, we turn into Khutze and meander another five miles to the head of the inlet where we anchor in front of an 85 foot cascading waterfall.  Perfection – except we can’t sit in the sun to enjoy the spray misting our faces because the flesh eating flies have followed us.  But by dusk they disappear  and we watch about  20 eagles perched on the drying mud flats.

Khutze Inlet

Our next stop is Shearwater, a First Nations settlement.  We stopped there on our way north, it is a perfect place to provision– and I use that word loosely here as the freight boat comes only on Mondays and then it doesn’t bring a lot.  But, it is Monday  so we are in luck and get ready for our next big crossing of Queen Charlotte Sound.  This is also where we celebrate my 60^th birthday – the bar in Shearwater where I treat myself to a Greek salad and poutine - a perfect low key way to commemorate the day.

A Farewell to Alaska July 28 – Aug 1, 2012

Who Said Gray is Not a Color?

It’s time to move on and out - the kids are gone, rain has rushed in with a fury and our 20 hours of daylight is over.  We were told that come October, sunrise is 10 AM and sunset at 2 PM – and judging by how fast it gets dark now, I believe it. 

Those Darn Amazing Whales

We spend our last few days in Ketchikan getting ready for the ocean crossing – cleaning, fixing and provisioning.  Provisioning consists of tossing out moldy cheese, shriveled veggies and unidentifiable fruits and replacing them with new stuff to be ditched at the next stop.   This is all accomplished in the worst punishing  rain we have seen since we’ve been here- even the locals are complaining.  I was feeling melancholy about leaving just a few days ago but now that I have water dripping off my nose - even while I am inside - this is just the push we need to flush us out of here.

And the Glaciers!

Alaska has been an amazing adventure in some of the most remote parts this country has to offer.  There is a daily wildlife show and nature extravaganza that will blow you away.  It’s hard to sum up the majesty and enormity of the beauty.  Every way you whip your head is another eyeful of gorgeous landscapes that are indescribable and never ending.  You simply have to see it to believe it.

And More Whales

The people have been reliably quirky and lived up to every notion of Alaskans you might have – they are unique, they know it and embrace it - also part of the charm.  They lead a different life than those of us in the “lower 48,” it is one without many of the amenities we take for granted – and I think they like it that way.  As one native islander summed up – “If we don’t have it, you don’t need it!”  I actually saw the explanation mark as he said it.  It’s a simpler way of thinking about life and one this gal doesn’t want to think about.  I am happy to get back on the grid.

Add Grizzlies!

Sunset

We spend our last night almost the same way we began our first night here,  having dinner with Gay and Wyman,  who have contributed mightily to our enjoyment of SE Alaska.  Even though we have not been with them throughout our journey, it’s hard to imagine our trip without their helpful tips and grand enthusiasm. 

Moon Rise

But this is not good-bye to Alaska it’s -  see you again in a couple of years.

Juneau to Ketchikan, July 23- July 28: The Express Route

Just Before Entering Petersburg

It took us 56 days to travel from Ketchikan to Juneau and now we are racing back to Ketchikan in six days along now familiar routes.  This time, the weather is beautiful and sunny – of course I warned Chris of the cold, rainy weather and made them all buy rain gear and boots – none of which they have yet worn.  The girls are in the capris I told them not to pack.

The adventures just keep piling up.  In Petersburg we took a halibut fishing charter with Captain Danny in Frederick Sound.  Captain Danny knows the fishing business and no sooner had we anchored than Matthew caught a 20 pound halibut.  And then another halibut, and then a third halibut.  I caught the second fish of the day and, ok, the largest – a fifty pounder - and Brian caught a 40 pounder.  Emily, no slouch herself, brought in a big codfish that she reeled in by herself, in fact all of us reeled in our own  fish -  from over 300 feet of water.  Yeah!

This would have made for a perfect day without the added bonus of whale sightings.  We stopped right next to a mama humpback whale teaching her baby the intricacies of breaching.  First, leap all the way up and out of the water, pirouette, and then aim straight down with your tail doing a beautiful wave before diving completely under.  Now you try it.  And the baby did, first breaching a little but after repeated examples from mama, oh, say about 20 breaching demonstrations right in front of us, baby got the hang of it.  We stayed about 45 minutes watching this unbelievable, moving wildlife show.  All of us were in complete awe.  Right at the end, mama surfaced just behind our cockpit where we were standing, scaring all of us.  And for the end of the day, we saw the fin of a shark swim by – right after I told the kids there are no sharks in Alaska.  Danny said a sighting like this is highly unusual.    I should say.

In Wrangell, the kids got picked up on a fast boat by Mark who took them to Anan Bear Preserve, the must do activity in SE Alaska.  It is on state land, an island, and you are led by armed guides to a viewing spot where the bears amble all around you.  There is a stream and in July the salmon run and the bears congregate there to catch and eat the fish.  Grizzlies are mainly interested in the brains and row, black bears like to dine on the entire fish.  Eagles like the leftovers.  Jim and I could not get passes but were happy the kids got to witness another part of Alaska’s great nature. They reported that the  bears are smelly.

In Meyers Chuck – population 20, we finally met up with the fabled post mistress of cinnamon bun fame – call her and she makes them fresh.  We ordered our six buns and she delivered the next morning at 7 AM, warm and aromatic.  What service.  If all postal employees delivered fresh cinnamon rolls to their customers, I think we could bring an end to their cash bleed and it would surely enhance customer appreciation.  Since Jim told her about my quest for the perfect cinnamon roll, she decided to put in a secret ingredient that she only disclosed to Jim and Matthew  to see if we could guess it.  She uses this ingredient when she wants to ramp up the experience.  Her secret is safe with me, Brian and I both guessed it and loved it.  Perfect rolls, with or without that extra zip.

In Ketchikan, the rain caught up with us and everyone got to wear their rain gear – I was secretly gratified by this turn.  Chris told me she thought a few of our days had been gloomy yet I believed them to be sunny.  As the week wore on, we had one day that was cloudy, kind of, but I considered it sunny because it wasn’t low clouds, dark and rainy.  Chris said that by the end of the week she got that.  And I got the words of wisdom given to us at the start of our trip – “a sunny day is a light drizzle.”  Yes, yes it is.  But when we put the kids back on the plane it wasn’t a sunny day – just another rainy Ketchikan day.  Perfect to go with our sad mood at seeing the kids leave.

Summer in Juneau, July 13- July 22, 2012

This is our favorite Alaskan city – an assessment partly attributed to our longest period of non-stop warm and sunny weather we have thus far enjoyed and  only slightly influenced by the presence of a Starbucks and Costco.  Juneau is the third largest city in Alaska and the state capitol.  It also has the worst internet service we have experienced (hence no blogging), as well as a north south road that leads to nowhere – it simply stops on both ends.   You can’t go east - there are only mountains - you can go west but only by boat.  This explains the Palin fiasco and evokes a bit of sympathy from me - how can you know anything about the world's geopolitical scene when your own town is a dead end?  Nevertheless, the road that does exist takes you to some of the most scenic vistas, beautiful glaciers, and spectacular mountains we have encountered. 

Salmon Going in for Smoking

Our boat is moored in the heart of downtown,  at the foot of Mt Roberts, and sandwiched between the cruise ships - as many as 6 a day - and there is always one right in front of our boat -  which is now starting to feel  like a bathtub toy.   There is also a fish processing facility at the top of the ramp from the dock and every day thousands of salmon are unloaded from the fishing boats and thrown into a conveyer belt that feeds them into the processing plant and then out the door as smoked salmon.  And the smoked salmon?   Let me just say that I will be shipping all my future smoked  salmon needs from Juneau.

Mendenhall Glacier

Our first stop is the Mendenhall Glacier, an inland glacier that has an enormous waterfall and great hiking.  In fact, we did a fair amount of hiking during our entire stay, including a 2,200 foot hike up Mt Roberts on some rough terrain with muddy washouts on parts of the trail causing us to scramble up and over tree roots.  Luckily we had our trusty dog, Zippy, to lead the way, he is clearly part mountain goat.  We decided against the hike back down and opted for the luxury of the tram – a decision Zippy clearly endorsed.

View From Mt. Roberts
(We Hiked All the Way)

Water Falls at Mendenhall Glacier

Of course the highlight of our stay was the arrival of the Moores clan, sans Peter, with the addition of a Dickie – Brian.  They were there with us for two whirlwind days of activities before we set sail south back toward Ketchikan.  We made the most of our time including a helicopter ride to Hebert Glacier for dogsledding.  Now I have always had a certain antipathy for helicopters -  a single blade that takes you straight up in the air seems to defy gravity more directly than the gradual ascent of an airplane.  But I was comforted on the drive to the airport when our van driver assured us of the capable and highly experienced pilots we would have – retired air force pilots and commercial airline pilots.  Ah yes, the crusty, crew-cut  ex-air force lieutenant, maybe even a general, with a twinkle in his eyes as he expertly, for the millionth time, takes control of the cockpit and safely deposits us on the face of a glacier.  Unfortunately, that was not our pilot.  When we boarded,  we found a 12 year-old girl with a pony tail at the controls. I quizzed her on her air force training, none, but she seemed capable, mainly because I lived to write this.



Looking as Skeptical as I Feel

The dog camp, in a bowl of the glacier, at 2,000 feet , was sunny and pristine.  The dogs were harnessed and eager, based on the barking jumping up and down, to get going.  It was an hour ride with many stops for the dogs who were getting hot from the sun.  Most interesting, the Iditarod dogs are trained to poop as they run…, hmmm, if only Zippy could be so trained.

Hebert Glacier

And the Winner Is....




We milked Juneau for all it had, superb fish, good tourist shopping and even a great haircut/color job by, none other than,  Sarah's stylist - and you have to admitt, she does have great hair.  But,  it's time to take the Moores' clan to the rawer parts of Alaska and have some adventures of the wild life kind.

Skagway, July 7 – 10, 2012: Authentic Alaska or Disney?

This is What I Call a Gray Day
Passage to Skagway

We have finally reached the northern end of the inside passage – Skagway.  Some boaters have advised us to skip this last 100 mile leg from Icy Straits up the Lynn Canal and instead take a fast boat from Juneau to spend an afternoon here.  Others have said by-pass the whole place as it’s just one big Disneyland.  Well, if landscaped sidewalks, flowerboxes, boardwalks and an absence of muddy streets defines Disney, I’m all for it.  

 We are in love with this picturesque town nestled in the Skagway River Valley, surrounded by soaring mountains.  In the late 1890s, this was the gateway for the Klondike Gold Rush.  Then the town had over 80 saloons and a population of 20,000.  Now, there are about 800 people with a summer population twice that amount.  The claim to fame here is the history of the gold rush and they do mine it for all its tourist potential. 

Train Going Through the Mountains

It is a tidy and compact town - which appeals to my Germanic nature - although, according to a guide book, it is 453 square miles, Alaska’s largest town by land mass.   And for drop dead beauty, this is the place, even the 2-4 cruise ships arriving daily have their charm.  They disgorge thousands of passengers every day yet the streets are not cluttered with tourists and the restaurants are just pleasantly full – where the heck do all the people go?

 Well, one place is the railroad station to take the scenic White Pass Yukon Train.   This is a train ride of a lifetime – a 2,865 foot climb over rivers, through tunnels and up, up, up to White Summit Pass in Canada.  It follows the route that the gold miners forged by foot before the railroad was built.  It is not a trip for those with a fear of heights, an aversion to having the ground drop away right next to you, or general concern over the safety of winding your way through narrow passes and tunnels burrowed into rocky mountain sides.   The rail track bed is no more than 5-10 feet from a cliff on either side with a shear drop off to, well, the bottom.  I clammed my eyes shut more than a few times.

2,800 Feet High

We spotted a black bear or two, mountain goats – although I don’t count it as a real sighting since they were asleep and far up in the mountains.  We saw more breath taking scenery than is even imaginable – have I mentioned before how incredibly beautiful Alaska is?  It just keeps getting more and more spectacular.  This ride alone was worth the 200 mile round trip boat ride to Skagway.

So Cuddlly Looking

The Yukon



In the 60th Parallel

Of course another reason people are reluctant to take their boat up the Lynn Canal is that it is known for its storms – gale force winds are common and because the Canal is narrow with steep rocky shores, seas can build dramatically.  And the very next day, weather started rolling in – gale force wind warnings.  Did we make haste and leave like sensible prudent boaters - like the boat in front of us which left Monday morning at 5 AM?  No, we stayed and rented a car so we could drive to the Yukon.  We passed through mountain plains resembling the barren Afghanistan Mountains, rugged, rocky ground that looked like bombs exploded causing the ruble.  Further on a gray, sci-fi moon scape unfolded to lakes nestled in the valleys of the mountains - mountains as red as the Sonora Desert in Arizona.  And then back to snow covered mountain peaks.  

We make it all the way to the 60th Parallel in the Canadian Yukon and find not much there - except beauty.  Whitehorse, the biggest town, has a population of approximatly 27,000 and, we were told, it also has 90% of the population of that region.  I know we didn't see many people and we were happy to leave the desolation behind for  lively Skagway - suddenly 800 people looked like a booming metropolis.
Yup, bring on Disney any time.

Sunset in Disney

Glacier Bay, July 2-4, 2012: Dodging Whales and Skirting Glacier Chunks

Purse Seiners Competing for Fish in Icy Straits
T

As soon as we leave Icy Straits and turn the corner at Point Gustavus, we enter Glacier Bay and for the first 30 miles or so, are traveling in whale protected waters.  No speeding (13 Kts or less), remain one mile off shore and if you don’t, the Glacier National Park Rangers will hail you on Channel 16, call out your vessel by name and let you and the listening audience know that you have violated the whale rules.  Not that I was called or anything…and really, I meant to stay 1 mile away.



Entering Glacier Bay

Glacier National Park is 3.3 million acres of mountains, glaciers, waterways and forests – it is only accessible by boat or float plane. 250 years ago, this entire 60 mile long bay was itself a glacier, pushing out the native Tlingits and forcing them to relocate across Icy Strait to the city of Hoonah.  One native we spoke to lamented the fact that they were pushed out by nature and now the glaciers have retreated. 

360 Degrees of This Beauty

We were lucky enough to snag a permit to enter the park – just 25 boats are allowed in at a time.  Vessels entering must first report to the ranger station at Bartlett Cove, where their operators are required to attend a 45 minute orientation. A video gives us the history of the park, reiterates the rules (no dogs on shore), and tells us where mountain goats have been sighted, the puffins' favorite hangout and the fact that the bears are particularly aggressive this year.  Great.

Are You Looking at Me?

 Our trip north to the first anchorage is filled with nature sightings, grizzlies are roaming the shore, sea otters frolicking in the water and in the distance, with my binoculars, I see several whales.  Excitedly, I turn to tell Jim and as I look to my left, a whale surfaces right next to our boat.  All this time spent glued to my binocs and I almost fail to see what is right in front of me.

We spend the first night safely tucked into Shag Cove and the next morning, while we are having our coffee, we spot a black wolf meandering along the shore line.  As we proceed north in search of the glaciers, we get a radio call from Mellow Moments, our cruising friends from BC to Ketchikan.  25 boats in the park - what are the chances we would both be here at the same time?  Excitedly we exchange wild life sighting stories, as thrilled as kids at Disneyland.



Glacier Chunks Floating

 The mountains in Glacier Bay Park are simply unbelievable, unbelievable – they go on for miles and miles, actually, 60 miles from the entrance to the northern most head of the bay.  The vastness and majesty is humbling. 3,000 – 4,000 foot snow covered jagged peaks in every direction you peer, all of it drenched in sunlight with the turquoise milky waters glistening as far as your eyes will take you. 

Glacier Chunks in Turquoise Waters

Just when we think we can’t possibly stand this much beauty any more we are jolted out of our reverie by the hundreds of ice chunks floating all around us as we near Margerie Glacier.  We slow to a putter and hear the deafening clickity-clack of the ice careening off the boat and then, as the chunks get bigger, kerthunk, crash, grind.  This is not for the faint of heart and having heard stories about boaters props chewed up by the ice, my knees turn noddle-ly and we veer 180 degrees out of the ice-choked inlet and back into safer waters.  We spend the day ogling 3 different tide water glaciers, each one in an ice- strewn inlet – so we view from a distance. When we later admit our cowardice to Gay and Wyman, they say everyone feels that way the first time but you get used to it.



Glacier in Foreground

The next day is a wild-life bonanza at S. Marble Island - hundreds of sea lions draping themselves on top of each other and over the small rocky island – raucously barking and groaning like boisterous old drunks.  We circle the small island and see seagulls perched by the hundreds and eagles roosting as well. When we are just a little past the island, we spot the puffins lounging in the water, all white and yellow faces and orange beaks.  My life is complete now.

Our last night in Glacier Park we anchor in Bartlett Cove, the ranger station, and take a one-mile hike in the woods.  After all the snow and icy glaciers, it’s soothing to be surrounded by a forest of deep greens.  A ranger on the path tells us he just spotted a moose. The wild-life authorities tagged it with an orange collar to aid the study of their habitat.  We search high and low, tip-toeing and whispering – but no moose.

Awwww.....

After dinner at the lodge, located near the rangers station, we decide to take a stroll along the shore. Just as we are at the crest of a hill about to start the trail, I spot a moose in the distance grazing at the waters edge.  Armed with a camera and an appalling lack of ability to see anything that is directly in front of me, I race off ahead of Jim to snap some photos but now I can’t find the darn moose.  Jim, who is behind me, whistles me back, as I have stormed right past said moose, who is a mere 3 yards to my right.   She is not camera shy and while she ruthlessly rips at the tree height foliage, we get some good shots of a mug only a mother could love.  A perfect day.

Sunset in Barlett Cove