Chapin Bay, June 23-25, 2015

Fredrick Sound

Chapin Bay is a cove we know nothing about except that it provides good protection from the seas and wind of Frederick Sound and it is on our way to one of our favorite spots, Red Bluff.

Entering Chapin Bay



Eagle Confab

Again, because Alaska is having a heat wave – which is now making the national news – I feel compelled to say it a sunny and balmy 69 degrees.  Maybe nothing to write home about in the lower 48, but here – it’s the talk of the state.   We enter the inner harbor of Chapin Bay and are confronted with a bowl of evergreen mountains – every imaginable shade of green -  this is unexpected beauty.  Our kayaks are launched for the grand tour of the harbor.  Eagles swoop by, deer on shore grazing - perfect.  

Frederick Sound

The next morning an executive decision is made to stay another day.  We also decide to kayak the outer harbor.  Celestine is the only boat in the bay and when we glimpse Frederick Sound in the distance, we realize that we are the only boat anywhere - for miles and miles all we see are the majestic mountains and a blue sky that melts into the glassy calm water – this never happens in Frederick Sound.   There are no signs of any other human life, not even any float planes.   This is so enticing that we kayak right out into Frederick Sound. 

Just me

 

The only sounds audible around us are nature’s.  Eagles, of course, are chirping, a few ravens are arguing.  Loons are singing and fishing near us.  Whales are breathing in the distance and occasionally we see their spouts - a gigantic plume of air rising like misty fog - and watch them pop up out of the water.  Sea lions are also grumbling and groaning on a nearby reef.  Suddenly, we hear the unmistakable sound of gun shots and the water  around us is splashing … and there is a seal slapping his tail on the water, creating a popping sound.  Hmmmm.

We just sit in our kayaks taking in this banquet of beauty when I hear more splashing directly behind my kayak – that seal is coming right for me.  Avenging his honor, no doubt, after our skeptical response to his ability to make gunshot sounds.  I quickly paddle away but the rest of the afternoon, I can sense him stalking me and occasionally he shoots his head up near me,  just to let me know he’s watching.

Celestine in the distance

We both feel that we’ve witnessed something profound today - our insignificance in the grand scheme of life, the power of nature’s melodic symphony and mother earth displaying her finest treasures.

 

Windfall Harbor, June 19-21, 2015

 

Windfall Harbor

After a brief stop in Petersburg for cell and internet connections, we are going to Windfall Harbor located at the end of Seymour Canal because:  1) it is beautiful and last time we only saw it in the rain and fog;  and 2) Pack Creek Bear Observatory is here and in 2012 we watched a mother grizzly teach her two young cubs to dig for clams on shore just yards from our boat. 

Today, the sun is shining and we are surrounded by snowcapped mountains that we didn’t see last time as they were enshrouded in a torrent of rain.  After anchoring we arranged by radio (no cell phone coverage here) with the Tongass National Forest Ranger to go on shore tomorrow morning at 9 AM. Then it was time to launch our dinghy and putter the periphery of the tree lined bowl in search of wildlife.  Eagles are everywhere, perched in the trees, their white heads bobbing like golf balls driven into the forest.  On shore, we immediately spot a grizzly but I don't have my camera.  No matter, this is a good omen and we'll see plenty of bears tomorrow.

We are the sole boat here and the only other people are the three rangers who live in tents on the small island adjacent to us – 10 days on, 4 days off back in Juneau - and we revel in the silence when suddenly gun shots ring out.  We see splashing in the water and conclude the rangers – who surely are bored with no cell phone or internet, are shooting their rifles into the water for entertainment.  We hail them on the radio and a ranger answers but we lose the connection.  The shooting stops after one more round.  So much for solitude in the middle of nowhere.

The next day we motor to shore and tie the dinghy to a pulley system.  Once we are out of the boat  the line is let out to keep the dinghy away from shore and the bears.  No food is allowed onto shore either – this is a hardship for me.   The rangers, two gals in their 20’s with said rifles, lead us to a large grassy viewing area from which to watch the bears.  We ask them about the shooting last night and they deny any shooting ever occurred  (good, admit nothing) stating that the splashing was seals in the bay and the pops were the seals’ tails hitting the water.  Yeah right, and when we hear gun shots in Detroit or Seattle, that’s just me cracking my gum. 

We sit and watch for bears in the grassy knoll for 2 hours – no bears.  We do see two Sitka deer.  We hike up the mountain through a lush rain forest, dry now due to the drought, with beautiful thick undergrowth.  We see evidence of bears, lots of scat, and climb the stairs to an elevated bear watch.  No bears - but it was a great 3 mile workout.

Evening in Windfall Harbor

We spend another night anchored here just to enjoy the scenic beauty– but, no bears… and no seals slapping their tails in the water.

El Capitan Passage to Labouchere Bay June 14, 2015

 

 

 

The last several miles of our exit from El Capitan Passage is a narrow, twisty channel, bordered by rocky shoals on both sides and wide enough for exactly one boat.  We radio our Securite warning that we are sailing through and hope no one is coming the other way.  The trip requires a slow speed, maximum concentration and many sharp turns; we can barely manage this because we are oohing and aahing over the granite walls and tree covered mountains all around us.  This is by far my favorite place in Alaska.

We head for our anchorage for the night, LaBouchere Bay, itself a landmine of hidden rocks and shoals but we safely anchor.  Tonight our dinner show is courtesy of Disney – otters frolicking in the water, summersaulting, cleaning their crab supper on their stomachs and just generally being adorable. 

 

 

Labouchere Bay

 

 Mt. Calder looms over us, a 3,307 foot peak that I have fallen in love with.  Between the otters and this mountain, I have snapped approximately a thousand pictures from every conceivable angle.  If Jim hears me yell “look at this” one more time, I think he’s going to throw me overboard.  But hey, look at this…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evening in Labouchere Bay

Mt. Calder

 

 

 

El Capitan Passage and Cave, June 13, 2015

El Capitan Passage

 

Awww

El Capitan Passage is the northwest end of Prince of Wales – clearly the best is last.  The 25 mile channel, north of the aptly named Sea Otter Sound, is in fact, littered with otters.  Traversing this passage is like playing whack-a-mole, no matter which way we turn the boat to avoid them, they pop up in front of us.  When we’re not dodging them, we take in the breathtaking beauty of this cliff and forest lined passage. 

 

Our first anchorage is in a beautiful bay just northwest of the El Capitan Cave.  We are here to take a guided tour of the underground cave that was discovered in the mid-1990s.  Over 2 miles of it have been mapped by archeologists and paleontologists.  Our guides are two interns for the National Forest Service, both studying to be geologists.   Ana and Matt are very knowledgeable and since we are the only two people on the tour, we get to plumb the depths of this knowledge.

View of our boat from top of the stairs

 

 

We meet at the bottom of the 370 steps for the steep ascent through the forest to the cave.  We don hard hats with lamps and rain gear since this limestone cave weeps water.  It is a 70 degree day and when we get to the entrance of the cave, you can feel cool air pouring out.  Ana said you seldom get to feel the cave “breathing” because it is usually too cool outside to notice this temperate difference.

 

 

 

 

 

Ready to enter the cave

Upon entering, we encounter a locked gate to prevent intruders from trespassing.  Matt opens it and after we go through he pad locks it behind us for reasons unclear to me.   Matt assures us he has bolt cutters should we need them.  Suddenly, I wish we had asked to see their IDs, anyone can put on a green shirt and claim they’re a ranger.  Come to think of it, neither of them is wearing a ranger uniform or insignia.  Well, too late now – we’re locked in.

 

 

The floor inside the cave is uneven and rocky and the only light inside this tunnel is cast from our lamps and flashlights.  There are crawl spaces everywhere leading to other levels of the cave, some fan up, others down.  Our guides have spelunked some of them. 

Yikes



Our guides look so harmless now that they have unlocked the cave gate

The limestone walls are covered with mineral deposits that look like frosting.  Parts of the ceiling have hundreds of water droplets that glisten like diamonds.  These are filled with minerals that will eventually harden to become part of the stone surface.   At the head of the cave we turn off all our lights and “listen” to the cave “talk.”   I don’t hear it say a thing but I do hear some dripping water and feel a splat of it on my face.  Even though I am slightly claustrophobic, we have loved the tour and are sad when it’s  over -  but greatly relieved when the locked gate is opened.

West Coast Prince of Wales Island, June 9 -12, 2015

Stormy, fogy, yuk

 

Traversing the southern tip of Prince of Wales,  we enter the stormy waters of the Gulf of Alaska.   Being a fair weather boater, I am not a fan of these open waters but luckily, we don’t get thrown around and are soon in the protected passage of Cordova Bay.  The west side of Prince of Wales is comprised of beautiful, remote anchorages and some quirky towns.  We sample it all – stopping one night in Kassa Inlet where we forage for our dinner and catch 24 wonderful prawns. Shrimp Scampi for dinner.



A Hydaburg House



An afternoon stop in Hydaburg is on the agenda.  This is a native Haida village (population approximately 370) known for their extensive totem park.  We meet Hagu, a native elder, who gives us a tour of their carving shed and regales us with the “story” of his people and the suffering they endured at the hands of “the white man.”   He clearly relishes his unending presentation and when we tell him we have to skedaddle, he thrusts a tomahawk into Jim’s hands and has him beat the Indian drum as accompaniment to a native song he sings for us.  I think we’d still be there if Jim had been able to carry the beat.

 

View from above Hydaburg house

 

 

 

 

 

Craig is the largest town on Prince of Wales (population approximately 1,200) and is the service center for the island.  There is a bank, fully stocked grocery store that serves the entire island, and more B&Bs and hotels than you’d see in a quaint New England town.  Sport fishing is the draw here. 

 

Craig Hotels

 

My question:  where does everyone eat? There is a cafe and one restaurant/bar in town - Ruth Ann’s– open Monday through Friday.  The bartender, a beautiful, buxom blond, explains that this is a real problem as there is nowhere to go on date night – Saturday & Sunday nights.  I see the dilemma but am much more interested in the fact that this woman has her makeup so expertly applied it’s almost as if she has a team of New York stylists stashed behind the Jamieson whiskey.    And where did she get the makeup?  There is no place on Prince of Wales Island that sells it, save for what she can scrounge up at the local pharmacy.  In fact, there are no department stores, Targets, or even a Walgreen in all of SE Alaska – well, there is a Fred Meyers in Juneau but that is a boat or float plane away. And the pharmacies’ makeup isles are usually a shelf or two of random products.  At any rate – she looks great and I can see why she worries about where to go on date night.

But there’s always the hardware store, and oh what a store! There, Jim gets an espresso mocha - it's a full service hardware store.  Now there’s an idea for a date night.

On the way to Craig

Thorne Bay, June 1, 2015

Thorne Bay

 

Living off the grid

Prince of Wales Island, west of Ketchikan, is reputedly the third largest island in the U.S., much of its land is in the Tongass National Forest. We decide to circumnavigate the island and our first stop is Thorne Bay.  The charts and guide books are a little sketchy on where exactly the harbor is once you enter the bay and since there is a fork in the waterway with two large arms going in opposite directions,   I call the harbor number listed and ask whether they are in the NW arm or the SE arm.  A city employee who answers does not know.  Huh. 

We follow our instincts, head up the NW arm and finally, around a bend, we see the small harbor.  I radio the harbor master and he’s waiting for us at the dock.  He could be Matthew McConaughey's better looking younger brother.  We have been in many harbors, big and small, and he is the most professional harbor master we have encountered.  He gives us precise docking information (“you are 10 feet from the dock” versus the usual “ok, a little more this way” – what way????) and expertly handles the lines.  As I jump off the boat to tie the stern line, my headset transmitter falls into the drink.  Matthew – also known as Shane – drops to the dock like a Hollywood stunt man, dives his hand into the water and scoops up the radio before it even has time to think about sinking.  He leaps up and presents it to me, his baby blue eyes twinkling.  I love Thorne Bay.

A sight seeing excursion is called for so we stroll the town (approximately 400 residents) which a local tells us will take all of ten minutes.  It takes fifteen.  The town is stepped on a hill and we walk up and down, back and forth.  Unlike Ketchikan or Juneau, where the road ends when you reach the edge of town, this road actually continues, crisscrossing the island to other towns and destinations.  This is so exciting.

There is a lookout at the top of “Heart Attack Hill” – so dubbed by the locals - and we take this as a challenge.  Expecting a goat path, with rugged rock outcroppings to clamor over, we instead find  a maintained footpath with occasional stairs.  But the view from the roughly 300 foot elevation is so spectacular that this is what they must have meant by “heart attack.”

 

 

 

Our evening ends with dinner on the fly bridge and a Nat Geo show  – our own live presentation.  Approximately fifteen eagles are at shore scrounging the tidal flats for fish and clams, strutting, chirping, arguing, and generally entertaining us for over an hour.  One eagle flies over to glare at us, perching on a piling smack next to the boat.  We are a little unnerved by his unflinching eagle-eyed stare and frantically hustle the cats indoors.  He is watching his own Nat Geo show.

 

 

Moonrise in Thorne Bay

 

 

Petersburg, May 29-30, 2015

Approaching Petersburg

“Little Norway,” or Petersburg, as it is officially known,  is located on Mitkof Island and  was founded by Norwegian fisherman.  And they take their heritage and fishing seriously.  The harbor is filled with large fishing boats and many of the town’s buildings have the traditional "rosemaul" Scandinavian designs painted on them. 

Housing for summer fishing fleet employees

  But for a town of approximately 3,000, they have no evening restaurants to speak of.    

There is the pizza place, it closes at 8PM – no alcohol served;  the taqueria stand with only outdoor picnic tables for seating - they close at 7 PM;  and finally, the fish taco shack, with only outdoor picnic tables, and they close at 8 PM.  

Taqueria

Bingo on Friday Nights! After Hamburgers

 

 

 

This is a big topic of conversation among the boaters who visit.  When I asked the harbormaster why there are no restaurants she explained it this way:  “Everyone believes that their mother makes the best fish cakes, so I don’t want to eat your fish cakes.”   I actually don’t want to eat anyone’s fish cakes but still,  what happens when you get sick and tired of always having to make the fish cakes?  “We go to the Elks Club on Fridays for hamburgers.”

 

Slacker Seals

But fine dining is not what brings us here, nor the sporadic cell phone coverage or the intermittent internet, no, it is fishing, natural beauty and nearby LeConte Glacier.  

LeConte Glacier

Bergie with Seals

 This glacier is 21 miles of the bluest ice you can imagine.  The bay leading to the glacier is strewn with bergie bits (chunks of ice,) some as large as a Volkswagen, that “calve” off the bottom of the glacier and then pop up in the bay, glittering like diamonds.  Seals birth on the cold ice bergs and eagles come to feast on the afterbirth - at least someone is getting fine dining.