Petersburg to Juneau

6/24/11

Read Island Cove

It’s funny how being old and reliant on drugs affects plans that you try and do, even short-term.  I was going to pick up some drugs at the Petersburg pharmacy, but they informed me that they didn’t have the one critical drug that I needed to keep my old ticker beating normally (I have arrhythmia), since nobody has the same problem I have in this little town.  Because of that, I now have to curtail what was going to be a lengthy trip to a much shorter one so that I can get the drug that I need at Juneau. 

My first iceberg!

Which means I will do anther trip to visit those places that I was interested in.  Which means that I will have to back-track some of the routes that I’m going on. Which, if anyone knows me, always irks me when I have to repeat a route.  But, hey, I should be used to it, having commuted from Santa Cruz to Watsonville for 20 years.  Talk about repeating the same trip again and again and again…

My first up-close look, close to Tracy Arm

This was probably OK because the weather report for the whole week said rain, although that can change at anytime.  But, my plan was to go up Tracy Arm (where there are big glaciers), so it just wouldn’t be a grinding trip.

Taku Cove

Taku Cove Chart

We left at 8am from Petersburg after going to the coffee shop for e-mail and breakfast.  The ebb was at an all time high, with a 5 knot current.  I jetted out of the Wrangell Narrows at light-speed and headed across Frederick Sound, to witness my first iceberg.  It was really white, with a slight bit of green to it.  Knowing that I was just looking “at the tip of the iceberg”, I knew that there was quite a lot of it unseen.  You gotta figure that it’s necessary to treat these like deadheads.  Even a small chunk can ruin your day.  I was reminded all of the times my son Alex would admonish me for chewing on ice when I had a drink: “Dad, you can’t imagine how hard ice is and what it does to your teeth!” 

That’s true; and my, what it can do to fiberglass when it is strong enough!

I saw a lot more small icebergs on my way to Read Island Cove, about 20 miles from Petersburg, which is really a series of small indents behind a small island, about a half mile from the mainland, where you could anchor if it was shallow enough (but not so shallow that you would be high-and-dry during low tide, which now was the difference of 25 feet.

Chart of Juneau

There were lots of flies here, and, despite the overcast, was warm, so up goes the screens in the sliding doors (keeping the doors closed), open up all of the hatches that have screens on it, so I get lots of airflow, and now no flies inside.  I did buy a couple of flyswatters recently, so now I’m equipped for big-game hunting.  It started to rain, so I lowered the upper hatches and read and went to bed.

Juneau and Auke Bay together - airport is near Auke Bay

The next day, I got up early and headed out.  I was aiming to go up Tracy Arm, about 60 miles to the north.  There was no wind or waves, like being in Baja again, but with lots of clouds (and, of course, cooler), but still super clear.  When I was getting close to it, I saw a bunch of icebergs floating on the bar that crosses Holkham Bay, which is the start of Tracy Arm.  Between that and hearing some chat over the radio of boats having to turn back because there was too much floating bergs around, made me decide to keep going to Taku Cove.  I went around Round Islet to check out both entrances and headed back out again, taking pics of some awesome shapes in ‘bergs. Keep in mind that it’s hard to venture in iceberg-infested areas without a watch forward.  Even when I’m in the pilothouse, it’s hard to see some of those, and I’d hate to have something happen to my Max prop, which is definitely more complex than a normal prop, as it feathers when I sail, creating much less drag than normal props.

Looking up Gastenau Channel to Juneau

My plan now is to do a round-Admiralty-Island trip before Rick and Chris get here the first of August plus a quick visit to Sitka. I will be passing Tracy Arm again and maybe I’ll drop by.

Coming in at almost 7pm, I found Taku Cove to be a very pleasant surprise.  There’s a fairly large dock on the south side of the cove, where some yachts are tied up.  I chose to anchor towards the southwest side, as it’s quieter, has a nice river flowing into it and the bottom seemed to be ok.  Plus I’m going to be tied to a slip for a whole week in Juneau. I’ll be coming back to this place when I go back south to go around Admiralty Island, so I’ll be sure to use the dock the next time.

Looking north at Juneau and Auke Bay

Looking down on Douglas Marina - my boat in the middle

Next morning, I left early and traveled with 3 other sailboats to Juneau.  Going up the long fiord (Gastineau Channel) to Juneau was spectacular, and not as trafficky as I thought it would be.  Because my mast is 52’ above the waterline and the bridge that spans across the fiord is 50’, I decided to not attempt to go under the bridge, but stay at Douglas Marina, on the west side of the fiord, on the opposite side of Juneau (see the map).  It’s also MUCH quieter, but has zero facilities, like everything else in Juneau.  The Juneau harbor master controls 4 marinas: 2 in Juneau, past the bridge, Douglas Marina, which is the opposite side, before you pass the bridge, and then Auke Bay Marina, which is north of Juneau, near the airport.  I found out that a boat couldn’t get there from the fiord, even during high tide, as it turns into a very shallow path; instead, you have to go around Douglas Island, which is about 30 miles.  If you stay in the Juneau area, the best thing you can do is to stay at Auke Bay to pick people up at the airport easily, and be much more accessible to Glacier Bay and Sitka. This is what I will do when I pick up my brother and his wife and then travel to Glacier Bay.

Smokey looking for good stuff to eat

Smokey finding it - 30' off the ground! A little climber!

From Douglas Marina, the only way to get around without a car is by bus – Juneau seems to have a good system. So I walked up the street and figured out where the bus stop was and got on it, going across the bridge, until it reached downtown.  From there, I walked to the harbormaster’s office, got registered, then walked back downtown and got on the “express” bus to the airport, from where I picked up a rental car and descended into being a tourist for a few days – I do like my freedom.

Like every other big port in SE Alaska, Juneau is set up for cruise ships.  The cruise ship lands, tourists pour out and then go on various tour buses and boats to do various activities or go shopping.  Like Ketchikan, Juneau is chocked full of nicky-nak stores and TONS of jewelry (lots of diamonds) and fur shops (I’m sure my past wives and girlfriends can attest to the fact that I hate jewelry, so I find it totally mysterious why the jewelry stores would be full of customers). 

Mendenhall Falls - notice the size of the people in front

Since it is the height of season, wherever I went that was a tourist draw was crowded.  So I limited myself to just a couple of touristy type of activities: I went on the tram that goes to the top of Mount Roberts overlooking Juneau, and I drove to the Mendenhall Glacier that overlooks Juneau airport, in both cases going for a long hike.  I was very fortunate that both days were sunny and clear.  Good timing!  The hike at the Mendenhall National Park was especially exciting as I walked to the big waterfall, which was dumping untold gallons of water from the glacier melt. But the tram was pretty exciting too, as it was REALLY a steep incline, and if you’re a little nervous about heights, which I am, it was a nervous experience, especially when the tram was jammed with tourists – standing room only.

The falls up close and personal

While walking on one of the many trails in Mendenhall Glacier park, I finally saw a young black bear looking for leaves, and, then finding a tree with lots of succulent leaves. The bear started climbing, and climbing, and climbing…he/she was at least 30 feet above ground.  I had no idea that black bears are such agile climbers - probably only when they are young.  The bear sight wasn’t as thrilling as it would have been if I was alone – there was about a million tourists all crowding around, whispering excitedly to each other, all taking pictures.  I felt like I was at the zoo.  Only difference is that the bear at least had freedom of sorts.

Mendenhall Glacier

There is not a whole lot to offer in Juneau. The only WiFi place is this little café which has a really slow service. I may have to add pictures to this blog later. Juneau will not be the place that I store my boat.  I will shortly visit Sitka and check that place out.  One thing it already has going for it is a West Marine store. I also need to haul the boat out soon, so hopefully Sitka will be the place.

I’m taking off tomorrow back to Taku Cove, then another try at Tracy Arm, then across to Admiralty Island to visit some new places, including Sitka.  Stay tuned.

Wrangell to Petersburg

Looking up Frederick Sound - all shallow water from the river!

6/18/11

This is a short one because I only stopped in one spot before I got here. 

I’m now at Petersburg, which is a nice little fishing town.  I like it better than Wrangell, although Wrangell probably has more convenient stuff.  At least here, the harbor masters office is open 24/7, where the Wrangell’s office was open…sometimes.  But at least Wrangell had better showers…ha ha…the funniest and dumb things make a place better or worse…go figure.

Clear weather - fine sunsets! St. John Harbo

At least Petersburg has a nice coffee shop where I can send e-mails and write this blog.

Hey!  Butt out! This is MY place!

We left Wrangell – only 2 days ago, going directly west on Stekine Strait, where the great Stikine River dumps a load of soil from Canada creating a very silty and shallow area north of Wrangel, creating what is called the Dry Strait – only a few boats "in-the-know" can get through there and only at high tide.  I chose to ignore that and go west, but I had to do some careful navigation through very silty and green water with a ton of logs, trees, deadheads and other debris.  We stopped at St. John Harbor, on Zarembo Island and anchored close to the shore.

St. John Harbor is really a carving in the island surrounded by small islands.  It happened to be one of the few warm and sunny days that I’ve seen in Alaska so far, and I took advantage by taking the kayak for a spin and circumnavigating the area, seeing various seals, eagles, and, of course, lots of crows.  Not a breath of wind was there the whole time.  There was only one other yacht there.  It was very peaceful and quiet, except for the occasional noise of boats passing by.

Looking out St John to the entrance of Wrangell Narrows

Petersburg

My next stop was Petersburg, but to get there, I had to worm my way up through Wrangell Narrows, a thin channel that is notoriously crowded and can create some vicious currents going against you if you don’t time it right.  I left at a little earlier than scheduled, 10am, from St. John Harbor only going about 5 knots across the Stikine Strait to Wrangell Narrows.  Once I was there, I slowed the boat down even more, even though my ground speed was going at 7, later 8, and then later 9 knots.  Wow!  There is some point where the flood reaches a half-way point in the narrows, and then the current will go against you.  I came close to the half-way point, then dropped anchor at a cut-away called Half Moon Cove, and lazed away about 3 hours, watching the traffic go buy.  Very interesting.  When it was high tide, and the current was going to ebb, I upped anchor and proceeded on.  In that way, I saved a lot of fuel.

OK, Bill (Mr. Answer Man...), what are those things? 

Petersburg had a friendly, folksy harbormaster instructing me where to dock.  The town is funky, but it’s not touristy, being very oriented to fishing boats, of which there is a lot. The boats range from big offshore beauties to scroungy, never-used tiny boats.  One boat has fungus growing so much, that there is actually soil on it and it's growing weeds and grass. It would be possible to plant a seed there and grow a tree, if the roots could somehow dig into the fiberglass.  The bottom of the boat has yards of growth on the bottom. Despite the general funky-ness, Petersburg is still pretty, with big mountains surrounding it from afar.

First time I've seen a green garden ON a fiberglass boat! You should see the bottom!

Anyway, I will leave tomorrow and head north again, stopping at a few spots until I get to Juneau.  I'll be stopping on the way at Tracy Arm, where I'll get my first glimpse of berg'r bits.

Route from Wrangell to Petersburg

From Ketchikan to Wrangell

Route around Revillagegido

6/15/11

Wow! Time is marching right along - it's already the middle of June!  Climate-wise, it's definitely summertime, even when it's raining. I'm writing this at the only place in Wrangell that has internet, which is the public library.  It's nice, but small and the internet is free.

Traffic on Clarence Sound

So we left Ketchikan on 6/11 at about 11am and worked our way out of the Tongass passage into Clarence Strait, taking a left instead of a right, this time, with a bit of a southerly wind. There was a lot of commercial traffic, barges being towed with lots of containers. I had the big jib up to help alleviate gas mileage until we hit Kasaan Bay, where the wind shut off.

Kasaan Bay - Kina Cove is on the south side

Kina Cove - check out clear-cut

Kasaan Bay was pretty enough, but there had been a lot of clear-cutting there and it didn’t look so pretty anymore.  By now it was raining and windy. Instead of stopping at the settlement of Kasaan, where supposedly there is some Indian ruins, I kept going to Kina Cove, where we stopped.  Again, it was a nice, protected cove, but it didn’t do a lot for me.  We left the next day out of Kasaan Bay to start heading north on Clarence Sound.  I wasn’t sure where I wanted to stop but eventually decided to a nice place called Meyers Chuck.

Meyers Chuck Public Docks

The house with the dock is going for $230K

Neighborhood spider web

Meyers Chuck is a little settlement of about maybe 50 houses all nestled in different spots around the area.  Some of them were built on big stilts and, on low tide, was perched pretty high.  I came on a low tide and as soon as I tied up on a public dock, I went up the steep ramp to walk around.  All of the houses are tied together with little, well-maintained paths covered in chipped bark to keep mud from building.  The biggest house which was probably over 2000 sq ft had a woman working on some sort of project.  She welcomed me and said to feel free walking on any path in the area.  She and her husband divide their time between Mill Valley and this place (Mill Valley during the winter, of course), and they have plenty to do in this place.  I suspect that she’s one of the people who make crafts for their “gallery” that I saw later.  The whole place reminded me of Yelapa, on the south side of Banderas Bay in Mexico, where all of the huts are connected by different paths and you had to walk around groups of chickens or pigs to get from one place to another and that there's absolutely no cars.

Low tide at the beach

I walked over a small ridge until I arrived at a “beach”, covered in rocks, clams, mussels, and lots of broken black slate.  The path that I walked on was very thick in rain forest, with a unique playground with a crude see-saw, swing, and rope set-up.  Since it was low tide, I walked among the rocks looking at tide pools (not near as dramatic as what I’m used to in Santa Cruz) and scenery.  Since it was low tide, I was able to make a loop back to the center of the community.  There were no stores, only a “post office”, and a telephone at the head of the pier.  I met a couple who were also on a walk that was cruising in their “pocket cruiser”, a little 25’ trawler-type boat that they can tow when in civilization.  It was registered in Colorado.

Vixen Harbor

After a very relaxed night tied up, I decided to head to Vixen Harbor, only a few miles away, up Ernest Sound.  The problem with this place is that it’s difficult to get into, as it is very shoal.  With the last contact with a rock in Shoalwater Passage, I decided to time it to arrive on high tide.  So when we got there, even at high tide, it was 22 feet, so you gotta know that low tide would be high and dry.  Nonetheless, I got thru with no problem and anchored in a nice corner of the cove.  In looking at the guide for places facing the open ocean with a lot of tricky entrances with swells, I decided I better practice in more quiet spots.  Maybe when I haul the boat out I should install one of those forward sensing sonars, to see any rocks ahead. Hmm.

Totem w/head of Vixen

One rock too many...

Well, I'll be - the wetsuit fits!

The rain eventually eased off a bit, and, just out of curiosity, I checked the temperature of the water – 63 degrees!  Well, I thought to myself, this is a good time to check out my cold weather wetsuit and 12v hookah, as well as check out any damages to the hull from striking rocks.  The wetsuit was fine, but the hookah was difficult to breathe.  I’ll have to call up the manufacturer later to see why.  I also noticed that my weight belt wasn’t heavy enough for my 6/8 wetsuit.  It was hard for me to get negative buoyancy.  Nonetheless, I was able to get to the bottom of my keel.  All I can say is that it’s lucky I have a lead-attached keel rather than a fiberglass keel with lead in it…I could see the silvery dents where it took a hit – but all it would need is to file it back into shape, and cover it in heavy-duty “splash-zone” epoxy.  While I still had lots of energy, I took a mild scrubbing pad and cleaned off the filthy waterline, a lot easier to do than from a dinghy.

Vixen Harbor

And after that, since I was the only boat and nobody near, I took my wetsuit off and took an outside shower (cold, fresh water).  Man, it felt good.  After all of that and all of the gear freshwater-rinsed and hanging, the rain came back again.

The next morning, with a light rain, I launched the kayak and paddled around, noting the depths and how far into the cove I could have gone.  Not a lot of wildlife, except seeing what looked like a squirrel swimming across the cove, and a lone seal checking me out.  At about noon (at high tide) I left for Wrangell.

Zimovia Strait

It was an interesting trip, first continuing up Ernest Sound and finally taking a left on Zimovia Strait, which had some interesting winding around buoys and reefs to work through.  I even had to wait until a small tug towing a garbage barge with tons of recycled metal worked its way around the twisting route.

Wrangell

I’m here at Wrangell and so far I’m not impressed.   It’s sort of run down, the only internet is at the library which opens from 10-12, 1-5.  I’ve read that Wrangell is a “diamond in the rough”, but all I can say it’s a “rough diamond”.  But, I’ve still some exploration to do, and maybe I’ll see something redeeming.

Dry ramp at Wrangell

Because of the difficulty of anchoring at the Amon Bear and Wildlife Observatory, which is south of Wrangell a good deal, I was actually going to play Joe Tourist and go on one of the boats that take tourists down there.  However, I found out that bears are really not active until July, and therefore the tours down there don’t start until then.  Oh well.

My plan is to fuel up here and start heading out tomorrow.  Stay tuned until next I report.

Totem museum next to the harbor

Route to Wrangell

Around Revillagigedo Island (continued)

Where there are brown bears-NOT

Rudyerd Bay is another long inlet, but while it notches its way to the east, there is a cove that connects it called Punchbowl Cove.  That’s where I decided to anchor.  It would allow me to take the dinghy and visit the other parts of Rudyerd at a much faster pace than BB.

Island Packet motorsailor

Which is what I did…after anchoring in somewhat deep water near a boat that was tied up to a government buoy (which is much more civilized).  This boat was a Island Packet Cruiser, a motorsailor much like mine, but much newer.  He had the biggest solar panel configuration I've seen on a boat, putting out something like 450 watts – mine just puts out 160 watts.  But it took up a big part of his roof top.  The Island Packet was one of the boats that I was considering purchasing, but I ended up liking the style of the NE400 better.  The IP is the same length and same horsepower, but narrower, probably getting better fuel mileage.

Happy driver

Rudyerd Cove was so big, that driving through it in my little 10’ dinghy, moving along at 15 knots or better, surrounded by towering, waterfall-lined cliffs going up thousands of feet, was intimidating, as well as awe-inspiring and humbling. The whole place made Yosemite feel like another day in an average national park.  Around every corner that I would turn, there would be another fantastic display of fiord-land. I took a lot of pics, but, again, they don’t do justice in how small I felt compared to these huge and dramatic glacier-made works of nature.

In turning towards the very end arm, I saw from very far away what looked like a couple of small boats.  As I got nearer, I found out that they were large boats – cruising trawlers tied up together under one anchor line.  Since there was virtually no wind, that wasn’t a problem.  I met the two captains cruising around in their inflatable and we stopped and chatted. They mentioned that there was a brown bear in the valley, but he/she just left: "you really missed it."  Damn!  I was too late – and here I had my telephoto lens and everything.  Well, as they say, doing nature photography is 80% patience, and 20% skill…sadly, both of which I am lacking.

There was a large contingent of ocean kayak paddlers, roaming Rudyerd, obviously in good shape because the bay was a good 8 miles deep – and they all were camping out in Punch Bowl.  They had a lean-to, and all of their kayaks were beached.  It looked like they were well organized and had a nice camp.

The next day (June 8^th) was cloudy and bleak, compared to the beautiful day before, with a goodly south wind.  BB went out to the middle of Behm Canal to look at one of the famous landmarks called Eddie Stone Rock, reminding me of the song my Dad used to sing to us when we were kids (and I think my brother Bill used to sing to his kids as well) called the "Eddie Stone Light".  In fact, Vancouver named it after that lighthouse in England, built in 1698, the first light house to be built on an exposed rock barely above sea level.  In certain angles, the rock does look like a lighthouse.  I thought I'd share the song with you (helping make room for all of the pics that I'm attaching).

Looks like a lighthouse from here

Oh, me father was the keeper of the Eddie Stone Light

And he slept with a mermaid one fine night.

And from this union there came three:

A porpoise and a porgy and the other was me.

Chorus:

And a yo-ho-ho...the wind blows free

Such is the life on the rolling sea.

One day as I was a-trimmin the glim*

Humming a tune from the evening hymn

Hmm, from here it looks like a big....

A voice from the starboard shouted "a-hoy!"

And there was my mother a-sitting on a buoy.

Chorus

"Well what has become of my children three?"

My mother then she asked of me.

One was exhibited as a talking fish

The other was served in a chafing dish.

Chorus

The phospherous flashed in her seaweed hair
I looked again and me mother wasn't there.
But her voice came echoing out of the night
"To hell with the keeper of the Eddie Stone Light!"

Chorus

Our last anchorage on my round-Revillagigedo-tour was Shoalwater Passage; an appropriately named place, especially when passing slowly over one of the shoals, I hit a rock.  Not hard, but enough to jar the boat.  No leaks, but I think on the next sunny day, I will need to don my wetsuit and take a good look below the keel to see how bad the dents are that I'm collecting on the keel.  The anchorage in Shoalwater is around a small island in the passage where there is a little wood cabin on shore.  Since the wind was blowing hard out of the south, I decided to chill out and read.  Another 3 boats had the same thoughts and joined me in the cove.

Rudyerd Bay - bad shot

The next day, at about 5:30am (at absolutely high tide), we left and headed out in a grey, overcast day heading against a slight SE wind.  I left the Misty Fiords in a lot of mist, but thankful that the most scenic of the area was spent in beautiful sunshine.

40 miles later, I’m back here in Ketchikan to pick up another set of kayak racks that I had ordered, to change the oil, to get a bit more groceries, and to send this blog.  I’m docked next to a bunch of commercial fishing boats, all of them getting ready for the start of commercial king salmon fishing out in Sitka which starts in July.  Lots of activity! 

When I climb up the steep ramp (low tide), I chat with the nice harbormaster guys there and describe the beautiful weather that I had at Misty Fiords.  One of the guys looks at me and says: “Did you have a lot of bugs with all of that sunshine and warmth?”  I say no, and then he smiles and says: “then you really had a good day!”

My next port-o-call will be Wrangell.  I’m sure to have lots of places to see in between.

* Old English word meaning a source of light such as a candle or oil lamp.  Wicks of whale oil lamps were frequently trimmed to ensure the light shone steadily without flare-ups which could be misinterpreted as a flash and to reduce the carbon deposits on the interior of the lamp’s lens.  The fresnel lense would magnify and brighten the light enough to be seen from 24 miles away.