Ketchikan Alaska, May 19 - 24, 2015

Leaving Venn Passage - So Bleak

 

Dixon Entrance - calm, but still bleak

It’s 5 AM and no fog!  This is the first morning of the past three without fog and I, in particular, am very happy we do not have to navigate Venn Passage, a narrow, twisty, very shallow and sharp turns kind of passage – like so many of them are – in the fog.  Now we can actually see our scary passage and be appropriately frightened.  But it goes well.



We're Not Alone

Next we face our last large crossing of turbulent waters – Dixon Entrance.  It is glassy calm...  and that goes well. 



Eight hours later, as we approach Ketchikan, the sun bursts out, a choir of angels sings and the celestial heavens chime in….  well, at least that’s what it feels like now that we have safely and successfully made it here.  The first things we notice are the snowcapped mountains, which we never saw in 2012 due to all the rain and fog.  But here they are, beautiful. 



Approaching Ketchikan

We've been here for 5 days, all of them warm and sunny.  Unfortunately, I didn’t plan on sunscreen.  Plus, all my short sleeved tees and sandals are buried in the bilge, waiting for August in the Gulf Islands and the Sunshine Coast.  Where is the atmospheric rain for which I have boots?  The cold for my cute fleece-lined leggings.   It’s so warm and sunny I feel like I’m in southern Florida. 
 

Ketchikan

One night we actually have rain and a thunderstorm. With lightning! “Unheard of.”  The lightning sparks a forest fire in the rain forest. “That never happens,” says the National Forest Ranger we meet – and he should know, as his department oversees over 17 million acres – yes, million, in SE Alaska.  They can’t even send in some hunky Smoke Jumpers to get the fire under control because it is so remote and inaccessible.  They are monitoring it.



Cruise Ships Galore

The main thing about Ketchikan is the cruise ships.  This town, of approximately 13,000, created an entire economy based on them. The downtown is completely and exclusively geared to the tourists.  The local newspapers print the daily schedules of the ships, including the passenger count of each one.  If the 3 - 5 daily ships are in, stores are open. When all the ships leave for the  day – anywhere between 2 PM –  5PM -  the streets roll up and the lights go off.  You’d think you were in a ghost town. 

 

 And how do the locals feel about this intrusion?  This bumper sticker sums it up.  Clearly, like a lone deer in the middle of the field on the first day of hunting season, we must camouflage ourselves.  No camera draped around our necks, no waving around a street map, no asking where anything is.

I must be successful at this because within 24 hours of realizing that my life depends on not being identified as a tourist, a local I am casually chatting with tells me she can’t wait till August when the tourists leave.  Or maybe she knew full well I am one of those people.  But for the most part, the residents seem very friendly.  One local man even offered to let us use his truck to pick up our guests from the airport.  I don't think he has any bumper stickers.



Tide In

Some readers have asked if we have heard anything from the couple whose ship was sinking. We are happy to report that they are fine.  The Canadian Coast Guard towed them (for 8 + hours) to safety.  Parts were ordered, parts were delayed, but ultimately the ship was fixed and they arrived in Ketchikan yesterday.  We had a lovely dinner on their boat last night - margaritas and shrimp enchiladas  -  celebrating their arrival in Alaska.


Tide Out

Sunset in the Ketchikan Harbor

Prince Rupert, May 17 - 19, 2015

Prince Rupert just before the sun breaks out

 

“Rainy Rupert,” is the last city in BC before reaching Alaska.  The population here is approximately 13,000, and their claim to fame is rain: 240 days a year.  But we arrive to sunny skies.  In fact, all three days that we're here are sunny and warm.  We are even able to eat dinner on the deck of the Cow Bay Café.  I would make this whole trip just to eat at the Cow Bay Café,  the food is that good.

Prince Rupert  is one of my favorite stops on the BC coast.  The town is very colorful –  all the primary colors are represented on the buildings and even on the local fishing vessels - a fact  I attribute to an overreaction to the gray skies. 

The city was decimated by the loss of the logging and commercial fishing industries, but has remade itself into charming tourist town with some very good restaurants.  Additionally, its deep water seaport and  commercial harbor is closer to Asia than any other North American west coast port, making shipping an  important industry. 

Our stay here is restful , plus they have the best internet connection on the coast.  The only thing marring this scenic paradise is the troubling early morning fog that has been rolling in…every morning.  We must traverse Chatham Sound and cross Dixon Entrance early tomorrow, both notorious for rough sea conditions, and I am nervous we will be doing it by radar.  I'm hoping for the weather gods to intervene.

 

 

 

 

 

Sunset Prince Rupert

 

 

 

 

 

Baker Inlet May 14-16, 2015

On the way to Baker Inlet

 

Entrance to Baker Inlet

Magical!  That is all I’m going to say about Baker Inlet, one of our favorite anchorages in BC.  Well…, okay…, maybe I’ll say harrowing too.  Not the inlet, but the entrance.  First, you announce a Securite῀ warning on the radio - alerting anyone coming the other way - since it is a blind entrance.  

 

 

 

 

Hairpin Turns

 

 

Once you turn the corner, you are facing several sharp hairpin turns, skinnier than a New York runway model.  Our boat barely holds a course with swirling eddies pushing us around like a plastic bathtub toy.  And did I mention the rock ledges on either side? 

 

 We traversed through here in 2012 but the passage was drenched in fog and I guess we didn’t actually see the dangers looming – or maybe we went through during slack tide –as recommended – but not this time.   For all the rapids we worried about on this trip that turned out to be flacid water, this was not one of those crossings.  It was a nail biter requiring four eyes focused on the passage.  But it is so beautiful, I take my two eyes and head to the bow to photograph the natural beauty, leaving Jim to his own navigation skills.

 

Several miles back into the inlet it ends in a cove

The Cove

surrounded by tree covered mountains and snowcapped mountains in the distance.  It is rumored that bear, wolves and deer can be seen roaming the shore.  But all we saw were hungry seagulls.

 

 

                                                                                                                                                      

The next morning we awake to fog and it is even more beautiful.  I think the sun is too loud and showy for this place.

 

We finally spot a bear and we jump into the dinghy and head over to watch him forage grasses.  

                                                                                             He is none too happy to see us but he seems amenable to a quiet stand-off.  Later, we hear loons calling as they swim by and a bald headed harbor seal pops his head up to check out our presence.

 

 

 

 

Hitch Hiker

 

 

 

Remote, peaceful, filled with nature – magical.

 

 

 

Sunset Baker Inlet

Finlayson Channel to Bottleneck Inlet, May 12-13 , 2015

Seaforth Channel to Finlayson

Emails are unread, bills not paid but we need to push on, leaving  Shearwater at 7:45 AM. Our destination in Finlayson Channel is Bottleneck Inlet and the waterway leading there is a hazard.  Where in the past, the water has been littered with logs 30 - 50 feet long that we have had to swerve around, this time we are dodging a few Orcas and  actual trees, stumps and all.  Many, many trees.  For many, many hours.   We were told to expect this as the area experienced hurricane winds two weeks earlier but we didn't think it would be like playing Demolition Derby.

One of Many

 

 Bottleneck Inlet, as the name implies, is a narrow entrance, only about 200 feet wide at one point, with a rock shelf extending into the passage-way from the south shore.  At zero tide it is only one fathom deep but we make it through and are rewarded with a scenic cove.  There are already two other boats in the bay and Sea Bird hails us on the radio, inviting us and Fire Fly over for cocktails.  Yes!   I am so ready for these cocktail gatherings.  Rainforest crackers with goat cheese and fig raisin chutney.  I even have cute serving dishes.  Unfortunately, we can’t go because I have a case of food poisoning that has me down for the count.

Orca

We spend a quiet evening and just as we are about to go to bed, we spot a sailboat coming through the narrow entrance.  He is hugging the south shore, exactly where the rock ledge is, but he has a man perched mid-way up the mast as look out.  Apparently his theory is to stay close to shore so he can spot the rock outcropping as he hits it, although this strategy is flawed as it is dark out.  But the sailing Gods are with them and they make it safely in.

Finlayson Channel

The next morning we are the second boat to depart at 6:45 AM, leaving behind Sea Bird.  We make it about 10 nautical miles north when we get a radio call from Sea Bird telling us they have a leaking shaft seal and are rapidly taking on water.  We immediately turn around and hightail it back.  This is every boater’s nightmare, magnified by being in a remote area with no one nearby to help.  The Canadian Coast Guard monitors radio calls (no NSA here) and intercepts to find out the extent of the emergency.  They continually keep check on Sea Bird and us as we rush to help.  Forty-five minutes later, while Sea Bird’s First Mate Linda has been continuously hand pumping water overboard, Captain John stopped the leak. We raft off their boat, which is anchored in Bottleneck, and Jim clambers on board to assist.

Buddy Boating in Finlayson Channel

It is decided that we will buddy boat with them until we are all sure everything is operational.  We make a head start while they raise anchor and within 15 minutes they call – they are again taking on water and this time they are out in Finlayson Channel.  We turn around rush back, if you can call 8 knots rushing, it feels more like a lazy putter.

 Once back, we have to position our boat precisely next to a moving/drifting boat, being carried by the winds and currents, and raft off.  Jim leaves this dangerous and delicate maneuver to me. All food poisoning discomfort has been replaced with adrenalin injected terror.  I manage to gently sidle up next to their boat with no deaths or dings.  Jim heaves over with tools and repair materials while Linda and I make sure our boats drift along in sync.



It has been determined by the experts, a CPA and a physicist, that having finally stopped the leak, the fix will not hold if they run their engine. Adrift in Finlayson Channel, the Coast Guard dispatches a rescue vessel.  They will be towed back to Shearwater.  This is not our first experience with the Canadian Coast Guard whom we have found to be highly helpful and reliable.



Waterfall in Finlayson Channel

After wishing John and Linda an expedient repair so we can meet up in Alaska ,  we resume our journey, three hours later and now with the current and tides against us.  I wish the Canadian Coast Guard could do something about that.

And yes, not a single picture of Bottleneck Inlet as I was too ill to hoist the camera.

Shearwater, May 10 -12, 2015

Lighthouse near Bella Bella

Shearwater, on Denny Island, is a major stopping point for boats heading north.  There is a marina, general store and resort, plus they have cell phone coverage and internet! And of course, what resort would be complete without a café with espressos, lattes, and chai?  Starbucks it’s not.

Sunset at Shearwater

We decide to stay an extra day so we can provision the boat and get caught up on email and bill paying.  Unfortunately, the general store is closed until 4 PM today, a Monday, for stocking as they received their bi-monthly grocery delivery.  We hop the water taxi across the bay to Bella Bella, a Heiltsuk Native settlement that is a complete village with a hospital, grocery store and liquor agency.  The grocery store has an amazingly full array of staples, fruits and vegetables but curiously, no snack foods save a couple of bags of potato chips.  We will be better people for it. 

The liquor agency is closed for a funeral and sure enough, as we are at the docks waiting for the hourly water taxi, we watch a First Nations’ funeral procession through the main road and down to the harbor where waiting boats take the family and ashes to a burial plot on a neighboring island. 

First Nations Home

Back at our boat, I am ready to launch into email but alas, no internet as there has been an electrical outage which will last until precisely 4 PM.  Once the power comes back on, much later than predicted, the internet coverage is so poor I can’t get anything done.  But on the plus side, the grocery store opens and they have junk food!  We pay cash for our stash, $9.47 but interestingly, Canada has eliminated the penny, but has not adjusted pricing.  So $9.50 in their favor.   And I assume it is always in their favor.

 

Feyut, Bear Cub Rescuer

We take a walk and meet Feyut, a beautiful dog - but this is not just another pretty face - she is a trained working dog who rescues bear cubs.  Her owner, Kief Archer, rehabilitates the rescued bear cubs and wolves that have been abandoned due to poachers killing the mothers.  He in turn hunts down the  poachers.  We didn't ask what happens to them when they get caught.  I think Feyut and Kiefer should get  their own reality show.

The evening entertainment is the resident eagle who guards the harbor from a tree at the head of the ramp to the docks.  The only patch of grass in the area is under his tree… hmmm, waiting for Fido to do his evening business?   We've heard stories about what eagles are capable of snatching but this one seems well behaved.  He is in fact joined by a friend later in the evening and they are both well mannered.

I'm thinking Salmon tonight - you?

Crossing Queen Charlotte Sound to Pruth, May 8 -10, 2015



Captain Wiley & First Mate

We must cross Queen Charlotte Sound, the second of three potentially dangerous crossings.  The Otter Bay Sea Buoy marine report calls for seas at 1 meter or less; it is safe and we make a 6:10 AM exit.  Again, it is a beautiful, sunny day but I have been lured into a false sense of complacency before so I am ready - everything has been secured.  Towels are wrapped around the spice bottles, eggs are protected and all falling, swinging or shooting items are battened down.  Of course, now that we’re prepared, the crossing turns out to be lumpy but not rough.

Pruth Harbor is off Fitzhugh Sound, west into a 5 nautical mile channel that dead ends into a charming cove on Calvert Island.  The area is a provincial park marked by the Hakai Beach Institute, a private rustic (think yurts) research center that can only be accessed by boat or float plane. 

We are one of only four boats anchored for the night and by the next morning, and for the rest of our stay, the only boat in this vast wilderness.  

Far away from any civilization, there is no din of airports, highways or even towns.  Just islands and stillness all around us. 

 

Tracks!!

Raw & Untouched

Our kayaks are launched and we paddle to the dock of the institute where there are a few research people and hike a half-mile to the beach on the other side of the island.   Crashing ocean waves wash over the golden sand.   It is said that wolves and bears frequent the beach, which is u-shaped and surrounded by hills and forest.  We were here in 2012 and never saw any wild life but this time we find fresh animal tracks leading to the water and analyze them like paleontologists pouring over a rare set of bones – and reach a conclusion: yup, they are tracks and yes, it’s an animal.  It could be a raccoon track for all we know.  The only wildlife we do see are hundreds of mussels, starfish and anemones.  But we are satisfied.

 

Our ride back to the boat is interrupted by the only noise we hear on our two day stay, a float plane claiming the right of way as he taxies on the water in front of our kayaks. 

Hogging the runway

Nanimo to Blind Channel, May 2 -6, 2015

Sunrise Roche Harbor

It is a beautiful sunny morning. We are heading to Nanaimo, 46 nautical miles.  Departure is at 6:10 as we have to cross the dreaded Dodd Narrows, a short and skinny dogleg, at exactly slack tide – 9:59 AM.  The current in the narrows run at 9 knots and the cruising books devote several paragraphs to the dos and don’ts of crossing.  This is not our first time through but we respect the wisdom of experienced sailors.

House on a Cliff

Entering Dodds Narrows

We leave the calm of our harbor, and as soon as we poke our bow out into Haro Straits, we are faced with a wall of white caps.  Immediately we are bucking and Wiley is hurling.  Clearly, the sun is not the friend I thought it would be.  We are in a full moon phase and it amplifies the tides and boosts the currents.  By the time we get to Dodds Narrow, we are one hour and 31 minutes late. 

There is much debate about an alternative course of action but we, along with four other boats, line up and one by one forge through.  It is calmer than our entire trip has been.

We dock in Nanaimo, an old coal mining town recreated as a technology, manufacturing and tourism destination.  The wind is howling, making docking, and our entire stay, uncomfortable.  We remember a great sushi restaurant from 3 years earlier and spend hours walking the town searching for it only to find it has also recreated itself -  into general Canadian fare.  Jim spies poutine featured on a sidewalk restaurant sign – Pirates Chips – and that is where we have dinner.  Their claim to fame is 8 deep fried “signature” desserts – everything from deep fried ice cream to deep fried cheesecake.  The poutine was good.

Dodging logs

 

The next day we head for Pender Harbor, across the Straits of Georgia.  Those darned straits.  The wind report is for 15 – 20 knots and yes, it is sunny, with white caps and walls of waves greeting us. The currents are strong on our stern and we ride the crest of the surfing waves at 12 knots, drop, roll, wallow in 8 knots and repeat.  I feel like a Blue Angel pilot spiraling into a nose dive.  Our belongings are flying, my computer sails by, the camera crashes down, it is so bad Jim dons our Scooter helmet to stay safe.   

Sunrise Pender Harbor

 

From Pender Harbor we head to Blind Channel requiring one more difficult passage through
"the rapids,"  a series of 3, Yuculta, Gillard and  "The Devil's Hole," Dent Rapids.  They are each approximately 2 nautical miles apart and timing is the key. 

There are complicated tables and diagrams,  math calculations - about speed, distance, full moon, slack turning to ebb versus ebb turning to slack - all detailed with precision in the Tides and Currents Book.  Every publication on board devotes paragraphs, if not entire pages,  to these rapids. By the time we finish reading the cautions, study the pictures and digest the horror stories of someone who knew someone who didn't follow the directions, we conclude only a fool would try this -  so right up our alley. 



What Rapids?

Of course hundreds of people cross these rapids every year without dying and so do we.  This time we are not late and we have a perfectly calm crossing. Although my stomach hasn't been the same since.