Hecate Strait to Ketchikan

Entering Tongass Strait - Ketchikan

5/24/11

Ketchikan

55*20.5 N

131*38.7’ W

It’s funny when you travel from one country to another, even when the language is the same, how different the culture can be.  But then I have to remind myself that culture is even different when you travel from state to state in the US.  Despite the huge influence of global communications (TV, radio, etc) which you would think would merge such cultures as English accents, values, food choices, etc., cultures and values are different everywhere you go, even in small ways.

Four little duckies, all in a row

At least these have been my thoughts as I have spent the last 3 days in Ketchikan, Alaska.  Going from a benign, helpful culture with a unique accent in their speech in Canada, to the good-old-boys, we’re-frontier-folks, don’t-tread-on-me type of folks in Alaska.

Here’s an interesting example of culture difference: in Washington (Friday Harbor), there always two kinds of dump bins – one for trash, the other for recycle, which includes cardboard, cans, plastic containers, etc., all of which is separated by people in the recycle centers.  In Canada, there are usually 2-3 different recycle bins, one for cardboard, one for containers, etc., so you have to do your own separating.  Here in Alaska, “recycle” is not in their vocabulary.  When I asked the harbormaster if there was a recycle bin, she didn’t understand until I explained.  Nope, no recycle here.

Looking at Alaska from Canada

This town has a more rustic, rugged feel than any of the ports that I visited in Canada.  Here in the port there is an interesting mix of pleasure and commercial fishermen (not many yachts except transient). Here in the harbor, it’s all about catching fish – the 2^nd day I was here, a small 23’ powerboat with two guys offloaded 3 halibut, and 3 king salmon.  A nice catch…one of the kings measured out to 38 pounds!  A Fish & Game lady came down to measure and record (I haven’t seen one of those for awhile!), and, while she was measuring, and the guys were cleaning (which took about an hour), they attracted lots of different people to look, discuss, evaluate, and to reminisce.  Things seem unhurried around here, as people seem to have a lot of time to chat and gossip.

One of many waterfalls in the channels

My boat is moored right next to the main loading ramp, a main hub, if you will, where there is usually one or two groups at various times discussing things like their boats, boat maintenance, fishing, and, of course, politics.  In regards to politics, what surprises me is that there is not a lot of Fox Channel political diatribe being tossed about, as I would have thought coming from Sarah Palin country (although there is some).  There are a lot of blue-collar concerns about loss of jobs (the lumber milling industry is dead because the lumber companies are exporting raw logs direct to China and Japan, thus eliminating a ton of jobs. This fact has both the Alaska workers as well as the Canadians concerned; at least 3 or 4 people have told me this).  The fishing industry has suffered too.  The strong tourist industry doesn’t attract a lot of the regular people around here, and there are a lot of imports of people catering to the summer crowds of tourists.

Ketchikan (and what seems to be a large chunk of SE Alaska area) gets a huge influx of cruise ship tourists coming in.  When I bicycled over to the main part of town on Sunday, there were 5 giant cruise ships (one Disneyland one!) docked all in a very long line, tons of people milling around taking pictures and shopping. 

Nice scene...

But what's this?

Ah! Another Cruise ship

Shopping is a big part of this industry and the amount of nicky-nack stores in downtown is staggering – Indian rugs, quilts, wooden statues of bears, eagles, and other wildlife, candy of all sorts, and even jewelry stores, many specializing in diamonds.  Why would people off of a cruise ship buy diamonds in Alaska??  I don’t understand.  But I don’t understand nicky-nack purchases either.  Oh well, to each his/her own…

Ketchikan

Ketchikan is maybe 2-3 blocks thick and lies entirely along the Tongass Straits, a narrow channel with Ketchikan on one side and the airport on the other (you have to take a small ferry to get to the airport – no “bridge to nowhere”!).  Only one or two jets land there during a day.  It’s been nice for me because the road along Tongass is nice and level, so I’ve been using my handy foldable bike to get around, even though the harbor is a couple of miles to town.  I found a good freight place to receive shipments of stuff that I’ve ordered for the boat (solar panels and other things).  There’s a Safeway that’s pretty near, and a video rental place.  Hot dog!  All the comforts of home.

Still and yet, once I get to Juneau, I may decide to stay at a nice hotel for a couple of days to at least enjoy a nice bath, which I haven’t had since doing the hot tub in Friday Harbor, which was a nice luxury.  Blue Bossa has been a very comfortable boat for my modest needs, but it still doesn’t have a bath.  Not having a bathtub probably wouldn’t be missed if I was cruising in tropical places such as Mexico (my friend Gary thinks I’m crazy to be cruising where the water temperature never gets above 50 degrees – and if it wasn’t for the awesome scenery, I would agree with him), but up here, it is missed.

Oh yeah, there are a TON of eagles here – they’re as numerous as seagulls (well, maybe not, but there’s a lot, especially on the weekends when fishermen are coming back with their spoils).  A couple of days ago, I was sitting in my main cabin working on some e-mails, and a guy on the dock signaled me quietly that I should come out.  I did and he pointed to the top of my mast…sitting on somewhat fragile wind-vane on the tippy-top of my mast was the…biggest! damn! bird I have ever seen.  He dwarfed the mast practically.  He was completely brown (which means he was a young eagle – their heads turn white when they pass 4 years old), and looked very ruffled.  I kick myself now for not taking a picture, but I was too concerned that a) he would break my vane and b) that he would shit giant loads on my deck.  So I shook the backstay until he spread out his huge wings and flew away.  WOW!

Tell me this wasn't shaped by glaciers...

Ketchikan is suppose to get tons of rain…whereas Seattle gets an average 52 inches in a year, Ketchikan gets 160 inches.  But I haven’t seen any evidence of this so far, as it’s been pretty sunny for the last 4 days.  Really nice!  By now, summer is definitely becoming a much-welcomed reality.  I’m now outside with just a regular t-shirt and pants (yes and shoes, underwear, etc.) and it’s actually quite pleasant to go on walks and actually work a bit of sweat.  I’ll be wearing shorts soon.  More and more of my hatches are at least open enough that if it does rain, I won’t be leaking water in the boat.

Driad Pt Lighthouse, near Bella Bella

But with summer up here also comes REALLY long days.  First of all, Alaska is one hour ahead of California.  The sun is actually shining at 5am, and still up by 9pm.  That’s good in one sense in that Blue Bossa can cruise in late hours and still watch out for deadheads.

Bottleneck, looking out

My last blog, I was in Shearwater, a nice little resort that catered to transient yachts and adventurous sport fishermen and hunters.  Shearwater is inland from Hecate (pronounced “Heck-it”) Straits.

Bottleneck

I stayed there for 2 days, and while I was there, I met some Texans from a 55’ Selene trawler called Watermark.  The guy who owns this multi-million dollar boat is a retired Texan who owned a big printing company, hence the name Watermark.  They invited me on board for a drink and were very friendly; the owner and his friend and wife were on board, all from Texas.  The owner is planning on going as far north as Ketchikan, then head south again to Mexico, then to the canal, then to the east coast, and then maybe to Europe.  He has a full agenda ahead of him, hoping to see as much as he can for the time left him (he’s 75 years old).  Most of our conversation centered on boats and cruising – although his friend, who was an ex-military pilot, wanted to talk politics (belittling Obama), I steered them back to…boats and cruising.  Talk about culture difference - Texans are a country to themselves.

Blue Bossa left the next day (full tank of fuel), winding around some islands to merge into Seaforth Channel until it opened out to Milbanke Sound, which was an open-to-the-sea area, if only briefly.  Once there, I found Finlayson channel, which headed due north until I got to a beautiful long bay called Bottleneck Inlet.  I was the only boat there when I arrived, so I dug in as close as I could and still have plenty of water underneath me when it got low tide (tidal changes can be at least 25 feet now).  It wasn’t long before there were 5 other large trawler-type yachts that shared the area with me, including Watermark.  The owner was nice enough to invite me to watch a movie with them (after dinner), which I was happy to accept (it was The Count of Monte Cristo which I saw before but enjoyed it once again – what can I say, I’m easily entertained, especially with the large built in screen and surround-sound that this guy had).

From Fancy Cove to Bottleneck

The next morning, I awoke a bit late (all of the yachts had left early) and left about 0900.  Back on route Finlayson Channel, which merged on Graham Reach, passing Butedale on the left, which is a great example of a once beautiful place becoming totally run-down, then changing to Fraser Reach, dead ending and taking a left on McKay Reach, which finally dumped into Whale Channel…(whew!).  By then, it was about 1500 hours and I should have called it a day by staying at Coglan Anchorage, but I was in a rut and had to keep going.  So left on Wright Sound (har!) towards the open ocean, and out to Otter Channel, where I ran into a goodly SE wind, with lots of steep chop.  I was motor-sailing with the main reefed, and had to slow the engine down to lessen the pounding.  By now I was berating myself for going on, but the boat was handling the crummy conditions ok, so I kept going, smelling the barn.

Butedale, the proverbial ghost town

Finally, there was a short 7-mile jaunt north (now downwind) up Principe Channel to my destination, which was Monckton Inlet, after going over 80 miles in 12 hours.  A long bay, but it had a side cove to it that was totally awesome, winding around a bunch of rocks, and finally ending up in a totally enclosed and very quiet lagoon where I dropped anchor.  By then, it was 2100, and still light outside and raining.  I spent a very restful night there.

Leaving Montague

The next morning I left about noon and headed back along Principe Channel until I took a right about 18 miles north on Petrel Channel.  My destination was going to be Captain Cove, but there was a very strong 3 knot current going against me after I passed Newcomb Harbour, enough to convince me that I was spinning my wheels – so turned back and went into Newcomb, which proved to be a nice quiet anchorage.  This is a mile long inlet, where it gets shallow towards the end, almost marshy.  It had a nice low valley, and I was hoping I would get to see some bears, but no luck.

Prince Rupert Yacht Club

To time the current correctly, I didn’t leave until 0900 the next day, but even then, the current was pretty small going with me.  I winded through the Petrel Channel Narrows until I merged with Ogden Channel, still heading north, which merged into Arthur Passage which emptied into Catham Sound, which is the entryway to Prince Rupert Harbour.  I was debating with myself the whole time whether I wanted to skip the town or to keep going, and decided to go ahead and visit it.  I was glad I did.

One of many container ships

Prince Rupert is the last city on the NW Pacific coast until you get to Alaska.  There were one or two cruise ships, but mostly there was commercial freight traffic – as a lot of stuff from the far east is deposited here and shipped by rail freight to other parts of Canada and US.  Apparently Prince Rupert is the closest port from Japan and China…go figure…and transit time is reduced by like 2 days.  This influx of freight has been a boon to this town, which lost about a third of the population from a downward turn of it’s fisheries, forest industries, and the closure of it’s pulp mill (I got a lot of feedback about raw lumber going to Asia from here too).

Brand new container cranes

Somebody's fancy resort just floated away...

I stayed here for two days.  One of the more interesting “adventures” was going to the local pub and watching the San Jose Sharks get pummeled by the Vancouver Canuks (hockey).  It was interesting because the number one sport in Canada is ice hockey, and the pub was jammed with people guzzling beer and vigorously cheering each time the Canuks made a goal (while I groaned).  A couple of people knew that I was from the San Jose area and couldn’t help but shake their heads sadly at me.  As of today, I guess the series is still going on, with Canuks having won 3 games, and Sharks having won 1.  Game 5 is tonight and I won’t watch it because I think I’m jinxed (update: it didn’t matter, the Sharks lost anyway and are now out of the series…sigh!).

I went to the first movie theater in 3 months, watching “Thor”, which was actually pretty good (remember, I’m easily entertained) – directed by Kenneth Branagh, the Shakespearing actor/director.  It was almost like watching Hamlet, except you could actually understand what the actors were saying this time :>)

The convoluted way - long, but pretty

There are two ways to get into Prince Rupert.  The first one comes out of the south and bypasses a bunch of huge loading docks for freighters.  The other one winds around a bunch of islands in very shallow waters until it dumps you back out on Catham Sound north, which is the route that I took to leave Prince Rupert, on a beautiful sunny day.  I won’t even tell you about the convoluted windings that I did to get out, but it all was very scenic, and therefore, worth it.  Once out in Catham Sound, I headed towards Dundas Island which redirects you into Dixon Entrance, which is a notoriously windy spot. 

Brundige Inlet

Brundige Inlet

And just after I passed Dundas Island to head towards Foggy Bay (a stop off in Alaska before you get to Ketchikan), the westerly started kicking up.  I decided to take a quick left to Brundige Inlet on Dundas Island to anchor for the night and leave early the next day to avoid bucking against any heavy winds.  I’m glad I did.  Brundige is a very deep 2.5 mile long inlet that’s very scenic, with low rolling hills mostly covered with trees.  To the left of it is a neat little separate inlet that is tricky to get into, but once in, it’s a nice hiding spot.  That’s where I spent the night.

I got up early at 0600 and headed due north across Dixon Entrance, smelling the barn, which was Ketchikan.  There was virtually no wind, the seas glassy and occasionally, a big west roller would pass underneath.  There was a bit of traffic (a couple of tugs with barges and some commercial fishing boats), but nothing too serious. 

Last Canadian lighthouse!

Like everyplace else from Friday Harbor to here, I have to keep a sharp lookout for floating logs and deadheads, some places thicker than others.  Many times I would see them in a sort of line, like in a current change, where there would be debris - floating garbage, floating logs, seaweed - all in a curving line, sometimes going as long as a mile, signifying a current change or pattern.  Usually this line would also be populated with seagulls, which made it easier to see.  It’s harder to see if it’s windy, and my hand is always close to the autopilot buttons to change course quickly if needed.

So now I’m in Ketchikan and I have a couple of projects to do before I take off.  I find that my water heater is backordered from Seaward for 4 weeks, which means I’ll have to pick it up in Juneau (no hot water showers for me – time to get a solar shower).  But I am adding another 100’ of chain to my anchor line (deeper waters here in AK), and building a solar panel rack, so I think I’ll be here for another 3-4 days.  I’ve already done some important projects that I’ve been putting off – pulling the food out of my refrigerator and cleaning it – and, lifting the stove off of it’s gimbals so that I could get behind it to clean the GRUNDGE that was back there…yech!  Today I’ll clean the head – oh boy!

I think I’ll rent a car this Thursday and explore Revillagigedo Island (where Ketchikan is) and be a tourist (without buying any nicky-nacks, thank you very much).

QC Strait to QC Sound

5/14/11

Clam Cove

No bears yet.  I’m sitting in Shearwater Marina, about 3 miles from Bella Bella, and have seen no bears.  There’s even signs here in the marina saying “Be Aware of Bears”.  I’ve talked to a few people here and they say the trick is to go to the end of an inlet with a low valley, a river, and berries.  I should see them.  So my next endeavor is to do just that, without wasting too much time in getting up to Alaska.  Or I may do that in Alaska.

Bye Bye Vancouver Island!

Oh yeah, and I’ve seen no whales either.  Apparently they are a little harder to find, and entails actually going offshore a bit.  I’ve mapped it out on my planning chart and will try to get outside some of these islands to take a look, when I’m closer to Prince Rupert, and the weather cooperates.

Route to Fitz Hugh Sound

Blue Bossa has made quite a few miles going north, with some interesting stops. 

Another pic of BB in Fury Cove - looks tropical, doesn't it?

I left Port Hardy, after enjoying 2 days there.  A part of one day was spent with the crew and skipper of Sea Wolf, the people I described in my last blog. They, having more money than me, rented a car and we toured through the town, which is a goodly walk away, stopping to buy groceries, I went to the drugstore to get some vitamins (alas, I didn’t go to the bank to get cash, so now I’m down to $10 in Canadian currency.  There’s no bank here in Bella Bella/Shearwater, so I’ll have to rely on either my US currency, or credit cards.  Oh well!).

Going crazy w/pics at Fury Cove

Anyway, the main event was that we went to the local bowling alley to play a few games.  This is a really old fashion place that has smaller lanes, and there are only 5 pins, spread out in a perfect V.  The bowling balls are the size of bocci balls, like a heavy softball, no finger holes.  It was really hard to make strikes, but I managed to get about 2 or 3.  The lady that is also the owner was nice enough to score for us (no built-in computer scoresheet).  And, as they say in yacht club functions, a good time was had by all. Having some beer helped.

BB and the kayak in Fury

I had to do some planning to get to Queen Charlotte Sound; the stop-over before going offshore are a few places among the islands north of Point Hardy, or going directly across the Queen Charlotte Straits to some coves on the mainland.  I opted for a cute little hideaway on Negei Island called Clam Cove.  It faces north, but is very long and encloses quite nicely; it made it a very restful stop. 

Still dense in Fury Cove - no bears!

I left the next morning at 8 am to a light southeasterly, and, to put on extra horsepower, thereby decreasing the rpms of the engine and the gallons-per-hour, I rolled out the jib (and only the jib).  The southeasterly continued to build so by the time I passed Cape Caution, the wind was blowing 20-25 knots and, by then, I had the engine off, sailing by jib only.  Sailing very close downwind works great if the mainsail is not up blocking the wind.  It was a great sail, but it was also raining hard, so most of the time I was in the pilothouse, occasionally adjusting the course through the autopilot.

Kayak paradise - Fury Cove

Fury Cove

One of the things that I especially enjoyed on that trip was the moderate west swell that was coming through…it made it very interesting with the combination of the building south chop from the southeasterly, creating some nice holes to surf down on.  I hadn’t been out in a swell since I crossed the Juan De Fuca Straits.  I missed it and was glad it was back again.  That and now there was only land on the right-hand side, and no land on the left, whereas for the last 8 months, I’ve been continuously surrounded by land.  That was pretty cool too.

Looking at Fury Cove from outside

Finally, about 3pm, we arrived at Fury Cove, a very quiet spot protected by about 3 islands, the west swell crashing on the outside islands.  It is definitely one of my favorite stopovers.  Though there are no places to hike around, it’s a great spot to go kayaking, as there are a lot of places to explore.  That’s what I did the next morning, enjoying a spectacular clear and sunny day. Going outside by way of the many shallow kayak entrances, it was pleasant to watch the westerly swell crash on the rocks.

Geezer: "I think I could catch that wave..."

Watching the shape of the waves reminded me of surfing.  I do miss surfing, but if I was to try again, I’m sure I’d be floundering, and it wouldn’t be fun.

Going up Fitz Hugh Sound

I eventually migrated to what looked like a white sandy beach, almost tropical with the clear sky and sun shining down; the water was very clear and turquoise over the sand.  On closer inspection, it turned out to be a mixture of sand and crushed seashell.  I had a great time tromping around, looking into the (DENSE) forest (no bears), looking for whole seashells, which there were not, and taking lots of pictures.

Green Island Anchorage - super quiet

In the afternoon, we upped anchor and went up Fitz Hugh Sound to Green Island Anchorage, about 20 miles to the north, and anchored there.  It wasn’t as nice as Fury, but it was really quiet, protecting us from another southeasterly with lots of rain.  I shared the cove with a modified old wooden tugboat, and a fishing boat - a very quiet anchorage.

Green Island Anchorage

Next day, we continued up Fitz Hugh Sound, with a nice current and wind behind us, past Calvert Island, past Hecate Island, and past Hunter Island, where we took a left up Lama Passage and dived to a cute little place on the left called Fancy Cove.  It was a great stop over with a view out to Lama Passage of the commercial ships passing by, which there were quite a few, as we were now on the main inland passage way for smaller ships, barges, and yachts going north and south.  The cove was convoluted enough that I didn’t feel any rocking from the wakes created by those boats.

Fancy Cove looking at the Lama Passage

I got up at a decent hour and upped anchor and headed BB up Lama Passage to Bella Bella, a small fishing village on the left.  It looked a bit run down, and I read that Shearwater Marina, about 3 miles eastward was much nicer and had showers, which I’m always on the lookout for.

Fancy Cove looking inward

Shearwater is a very nice and scenic place, and like all other key waypoints in the NW, it’s going to get crowded with yachts and fishermen/adventurers in a couple of weeks.  It has a nice hotel where the hunters/fishermen/adventurers usually stay.  There have been already a bunch of boats that have stopped by, all big trawler-type powerboats, most going up north in a hurry, one actually going south.  I am staying here 2 nights (leave tomorrow morning). 

Fancy Cove

Today, I put another coat of varnish on my stern cap rail, and finally pulled my chain out and spray painted some zinc chromate on my chain to mark 50’, 100’ and 150’.  I’ve tried all kinds of ways to mark my chain to figure out how much of it I have down – I’ve used wire ties (they come off and are too hard to see), and I’ve tried these spongy marker things that I found on the boat (with the same results).  Now, the bright yellow paint should be easy to note while I’m letting my chain out.  We’ll see how long it lasts.

Tug and barge - didn't see it coming until this shot...yikes!

By now, the daylight hours are very long – it gets light by 5 am, and dark by at least 10 pm, and feels like twilight by 11pm.  It gets harder to go to bed at a good time, although it’s made easier by a slide shade that I installed underneath my forward hatch – making it much darker inside my forward cabin over my bunk (in proofing this blog at the outside of the pub, it's 8pm and feels like it's 5!).

Bella Bella - looks like a little Mexican town

The next couple of weeks will be aimed to getting to Ketchikan by June, where I’ll probably stay for at least a week in completing projects that I need to get done on the boat.  After doing some research, I have found a shipping place close to the marina in Ketchikan where I will get some stuff shipped to me.  I have to replace my broken water heater and pump-out pump for my holding tank.  As well, I’m going to install a couple of large solar panels on top of my davits to help supplement my electrical storage when I’m at a place longer than a day.  Add to that, I need to make some plumbing adjustments to the hydraulic lines of my pilot house steerage, which I’ll need a professional to do that.  Other than that, everything seems to be working great, especially my engine (KNOCK ON WOOD).

Shearwater Marina

So this is my last blog until I get to Ketchikan.  So far the weather here in Queen Charlotte Sound has been controllable.  Crossing my fingers.  Stay tuned!

 

Johnstone Strait / Queen Charlotte Strait

Another day in the big Northwest!

5/6/11  - 

I talked about big tidal currents in my last blog.  Here’s a great quote about narrow passages and tidal currents from Jonathan Raban who wrote the “Passage to Juneau”, a mostly philosophical book about taking his boat up from Seattle to Juneau by himself:

“With far too much sea trying to escape through far too small an aperture, liquid panic broke out in the pass. The obstructed tide welled up vertically in mushroom-topped boils a dozen yards across or span impotently around in great saucer-shaped eddies.  The surface of the water was pitted with small, traveling whirlpools.  Everything was on the move on its own eccentric curvilinear track.  Keeping even a small patch of water in focus for more than a few seconds was like trying to hold in the mind’s eye the sum of movements made by couples doing the quickstep in a crowded, old fashion ballroom, as they dodged, twisted, swerved, twirled, and went spinning off at tangents to each other.”

That nicely written description only proves what you all probably know: that he is a well-known author, and I’m not! :>)

I ended up staying 2 nights in Blind Channel Resort.  Most of it was closed down, but they did have showers, which was really nice.  Part of my time was to write my last blog, the other was to do a little hiking – there were suppose to be trails.  Maybe so, but they were totally hidden from me.  Everything was overgrown and I ended up clambering clumsily through old piles of metal and cut-up vegetation, trying to weave myself in between branches and fallen logs, trying to find the trail before I gave up and walked back.  I laughed to myself thinking that long-gone were the days when I could do this kind of fearless exploration through thick and gloomy forests (and probably end up getting lost).  Not that when I was growing up there were any of those things around.  Even the thickest “rainforest” in Santa Cruz seem mild compared to here (of course the most dangerous aspect of Santa Cruz vegetation is poison oak).

On my way back to the dock, I stopped and talked with two young men working on clearing a 10 foot diameter rotten stump in front of one of the resort buildings. I mentioned the fact that the trails, from what I could find, were totally overgrown and that it must be a struggle to keep the forest from closing in and keeping the paths open.  The guys looked at each other and laughed and the son of the resort owner said, “Yeah, man, this is a rainforest.  If we were to all leave now and not come back for five years, this whole place would be covered, with trees starting to grow.  After a few more years, the structures would start collapsing because of the growth, as well as rot.  It takes us full time to maintain this place.”

We left about 12 noon to a 20K SE and took a left to negotiate Greene Pt Rapids, which was at slack tide (theoretically), worked against a 3 knot current till I got next to the mainland, and I was going to go left to continue the curve of Greene Rapids and join up Chancellor Channel, but the current was too fast and we were not making progress…so I elected to anchor in a no-name cove and wait until the current turned, which was in a couple of hours.  It was a nice, scenic little cove protected against SE to NE winds.  I don’t know why no one has named it.

Forward Cove

In two hours, I upped-anchor and we headed out to Chancellor Channel looking for a right hand turn to Wellbore Channel (yeah, it’s easy to get there, just take a right on Pine Street, go two blocks, and take a left on 1^ST Ave….ya can’t miss it!).   There the terrifying Whirlpool Rapids were waiting for me.  But by now, I had no fear…main reason was because the tides were changing very little, so the most current would be 3 or 4 knots…and that’s how it turned out…instead of going 7 knots, we were now going 10…wheee! Some mild boils, but nothing that I couldn’t handle.  Once we passed that, we were right next to Forward Cove and stopped there for the night.

Looking back on Johnstone Strait

Forward Cove was a typical Desolation/Broughton cove: narrow entryway, and long cove afterward – and very deep.  I opted to hang out on the NW side of the bay.  The SE was blowing from the head, so I was a little concerned about being up against the leeward side of the bay, but there were no problems – I had 200’ of chain out, which gave me lots of scope.  Another large US yacht (most have been about 80’) anchored nearby.  They were making it up to Alaska in a hurry.

Pushing/pulling a lot of logs!

The next day, we left about 8 am to catch most of the ebb and headed NW for a couple of miles on the Wellbore Channel, took a left and headed SW on Sunderland Channel, going around Hardwick Island, then finally taking a right and heading NW on the famous Johnstone Strait, a veritable highway of the inland passage for commercial boats.  Just in the short time that I was on Johnstone, I must have seen at least two small barges with tugs, a couple of large commercial fishing boats, and I also saw what looked like a football field length and width of giant logs tied together (booms) being pushed by one 40’ tug, and being towed by another.  The two tugs and the football field of logs were probably only doing 3 knots through the water and going against the current – in other words, they were not going anywhere.  They were staying in close to the north side of the strait in hopes to find counter currents, until the tide would turn.  Good luck to them, I thought!

Meltipi Beach

Burial Cove

We went about 13 miles, then took a right up Havannah Channel, pealed left to go up to Port Harvey Resort on East Cracroft Island.  This is a long cove (yes, with another narrow entrance) where at the end was a barge with the marina office build on it, along with a couple of fingers of docks.  George and Gail, the owners, were still in the midst of building this resort - the land and barge they acquired a couple of years ago.  The docks were in great shape, and the marina house was being remodeled.  There were no WiFi on the docks, but I could go up to their house on land and check out my e-mails from there.  They even had a little store with last years “groceries” with no fresh stuff.  By now, I was totally running out of food, so I purchased a frozen chicken breast for my dinner that they’ve been storing from last year.  There were other barges in the same bay, but they were in poor shape, and there seemed to be a lot of garbage along the shore next to the barges.  Not the most scenic of places.  George said that the garbage was going to be cleaned out before the season actually gets started, so it sounds like he’s got some political push.

Burial Cove and Meltipi

After a few days of rainy, SE days, the following day (4/29), the westerly broke in with a bang and, with sunny skies, we motored out of Port Harvey, took a very sharp left to go up Havannah Channel and, after 4 miles, ended up in a place called Burial Cove on West Cracroft, which had protection against the hard westerly.  Right across the channel looking east about a mile and a half was an abandoned Indian village called Matilpi on one of the many convoluted peninsulas of the mainland, where I took the dinghy to check it out.  It was very quiet, had a very small island in front of it to protect against a west wind if you were willing to stern tie, and it had at first what I thought was a white sand beach but it turned out to be strewn with white broken-up clam shells.  Apart from the shells collected by the Indian village, there was nothing else that I could see, as the village was abandoned in the last century when its residents joined another tribe – at least that’s what I read.  I landed the dinghy and walked around, actually trying to get inland a bit to see if I could see some ruins.  All I saw was undergrowth and lots of trees.  After doing a bit more exploring, I motored back to BB in Burial Cove.

A sense of humor at Lagoon Cove

The next day (4/30) we zipped around the corner to a very narrow and tricky passage called Chatham Channel.  You had to line yourself up with range markers to make sure you weren’t deviating from your course and run into trouble.  Going slow and running it as close to slack tide made it easy.  Once past that, we then took a left between Minstrel Island and East Cracroft Island on a narrow and short passage called “The Blow Hole”, where we were squirted out to land in Lagoon Cove Marina. 

Lagoon Cove

The people at Lagoon Cove Marina were really friendly.  There were also two boats, both couples helping out the owners of the resort to get ready for the season, clearing out trees, branches and vegetation along some of the paths (looked like they needed to do a lot). For the last few years, they’ve been helping them at the beginning and end of a number of seasons while cruising up to Alaska and back.  Summertime is big business for the folks at Lagoon Cove Marina (Bill and Jean), as tons of yachts stop by and tie up (sometimes rafting up as much as 3 boats), enjoying prawn and crab cook-offs, Happy Hour or Potluck dinners, etc.  As their brochure says: “On fine evenings, we gather around the bonfire pit in the backyard, behind the house, to roast marshmallows, sing and/or tell stories: if you play an instrument and have it with you, bring it along”.  They obviously worked long and hard on their property because it was very nice, if a bit rustic.  They even had a “totem pole” and “exercise stations”.

A real totem pole!  Not!

I didn’t realize it at the time, but one of the names of the Broughton Island is “Village of Islands”, where there are a number of marina/resorts spotted all around.  It was a bit like RV parks, where yachts can come up, tie up to a dock, get electricity, WiFi, showers, sometimes entertainment and socializing and a good view for various ranges of money (high during the summer).  I have already visited Blind Channel Resort and Port Harvey Marine.  There is also Minstrel Island Resort, Kwatsi Bay, Pierre’s at Echo Bay, and a bunch others.  Personally, I prefer quiet anchorages, but it’s nice to get a break for showers and check e-mails.

Haul out in Lagoon Marina

Comment:  Internet - just reading e-mails has changed cruising like nothing ever has done before.  I remember the unbelievable hassles we had back in the early 70’s cruising Europe, Caribbean, Central America and Mexico, writing letters instructing on where to send mail – usually in care of some Port Captain.  One never knew what, if anything, was going to be waiting on arrival.  Now, you get to a port or resort and either the place has some WiFi system or you can just walk over to a café and plug in to get all of your correspondences, even sharing photos – even pay bills!  It leaves me with a sweet/sour feeling – kind of like cell phones…how can we live without internet?

Lagoon Marina

I really wanted to do some walking, so I put on my hiking boots, and went along a somewhat well marked trail to see where it would lead.  Most of the trails were clear, but some were not.  Nonetheless, the hike made me sore the next day.  I’m definitely not getting enough exercise.

BB in Pott's Lagoon

Tied up next to me was a nice 65’ old wood underwater minesweeper that was converted to a forestry boat taking forest surveyors out to various parts of the BC coast to survey trees for the lumber industry.  These guys on both the islands and mainland would have to hoof up some of the unbelievably steep terrain in the impenetrable (dense!) forests with their handheld GPS marking out with ribbon the territories that were open for clear cutting.  Needless to say, they were all in really good shape.  The skipper of the boat was a crusty guy in his 50’s who has worked as a lumberman, commercial fisherman, yes, he even played hockey in school…all stuff that is listed in the most dangerous jobs category.  He was big, barrel-chested guy with short hair and short thick beard and when he smiled, he had a tooth missing. He smoked like a chimney.  There was also a middle-aged Indian lady who was the cook – she admitted to me that she was used to large kitchens, not the small (large to me) galley that she worked with, fixing these giant feasts (I’m sure the surveyors had healthy appetites).  Both she and the skipper were avid hockey fans, and, as it happened, they had a satellite antennae for TV, so we watched the Vancouver Canuks get beaten by the Nashville Predators on their 2^nd finals game at the end of the second overtime period…a very long game.  When the forestry guys came back from a quick fishing trip in their skiff (2 lingcod and 3 snappers), they immediately watched the game and commenting with lots of hockey insights.  It seems all Canadians are into hockey.  It must be the national sport.

Tight community in Pott's Lagoon

With a southeasterly and rain, BB left the marina the next day and headed the 7 miles west to Potts Lagoon.  I read about this place in Jonathan Rabin’s book – a narrow entry cove, with a lagoon at the head of it where, at high tide, you could take your dinghy in to check out, which I did, in between downpours. On the west side of the cove were five different colored houses on floats with their own docks and boat… people who wanted to get away from it all and live in their, I’m sure, tight-knit community.

Pott's Lagoon

That night, I ate my last fresh vegetable (an onion) on board with a tuna-fish casserole and decided that the next day would be spent going the 22 miles to Port McNeill to stock up on groceries, get some fuel and change the oil.  I had another fuel tank that was filled, but I couldn’t handle eating the canned food that I had on board.  I already had a can stew for yesterday’s dinner, and, for some reason, it didn’t taste as good as I remembered when I was in my 20’s.

No, it's a bald eagle on the mast!

Is that a plastic owl on the mast?

Port McNeill turned out to be a disappointment, but I did take advantage of 1) grocery store which was nearby, 2) shower (which didn’t work), and 3) laundry.  As well, I fueled up and changed the oil, which only took me 2 hours this time (I’m hoping I can get it done less than an hour).  While I was there, I was starting to meet a lot more people making their way up to Alaska.

Alert Bay

The next day I went to Alert Bay, staying at a somewhat rundown, very small marina that was more oriented towards fishing boats, wedging myself in between two large boats.  This island has a large Indian population and has a center/museum; the theme is reaffirming their tribal identity.  It’s all about the Potlatch, which is a party celebrating their heritage, their religion, if you will, with a lot of Indian dancing, people wearing bizarre looking masks – very pagan and not very Christian. It was illegal to have these   during the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, to the point that the Indians were losing their identity.  In the 60’s, there was a giant resurgence against that push, with the elder Indians being taped and recorded using their language, dances, and ceremonies, eventually developing a definite written dictionary of their language so that it would remain viable in future generations.  That’s why the center was built (erected in the 70’s). 

Evidence of evil doing

Anyway, I walked the mile to get to it, paid my $8, and walked the museum, but first watching a fairly lengthy video of what the center was about.  That’s why I completely missed the signs saying no photos…ha ha!  I saw a nice display of masks, reminding me of Debra Bird’s masks that she used to make for theater props in LA, which, with the help of the actors’ movements, did such a fantastic job of completely defining the character that it was suppose to reflect.  These masks looked like they would do the same thing, so I took a flash photo of it.  Luckily there wasn’t anyone around to witness my dirty deed and I didn’t take any more photos, especially when I finally did see signs saying no photos.  Ooops!

North Vancouver Isl - less mountains

I was getting tired of messing with the currents and was getting antsy to go north; so I decided it was time for me to catch one of those southeasterlies while they’re still around and venture out to the open ocean and head north to Alaska.  So we left early the next day from Alert Bay and caught a nice 2-3 knot current to take us to Port Hardy.  It is here that I was expecting about 3 packages, and so far I got one, waiting for the other two…hopefully they’ll be here tomorrow and I can take off.

Tourists welcomed at Port Hardy

I just met a nice Australian, his wife and dog on a 45+ foot cutter, who purchased a nice sailboat in Cabo just last year, and has sailed it up the coast on the way to Alaska.  Once they are there and have looked around, it sounded like they were going to head back south “‘cause it’s too cold here, mate!” Sounded like my friend Gary.  Australia is their final destination.  There is a surfboard attached to their stanchions.

Port Hardy

I also just met the guys on a really nice 65’ wooden motorboat heading up to Alaska.  They are leaving probably Monday for what sounded like a non-stop to Ketchikan.  What made meeting with them interesting is that they’re all old LAYC members…Tom Trujillo (sp?) has been commodore and knew the parents and Bill.  I came on board and had a drink and we reviewed our routes, and told where we were planning on doing.  Chris keeps his boat in Seattle (he also belongs to the Seattle YC), and this is his second trip to Alaska.

So now we’re in Queen Charlotte Strait, where the wind can really start to whip up.  It’s only going to get worse when we turn the corner and dive into Queen Charlotte Sound.  When I hear the weather reports with southeasterlies involved, I hear - no wind warnings in lower Georgia Straits, wind warnings in upper Georgia Straits, strong wind warning for Johnston Straits, gale warnings for Queen Charlotte Straits, and storm warnings for Queen Charlotte Sound. 

I’ve got a nice list of cozy coves dotted up the coast where somewhere I’ll be waiting for an appropriate weather window to head out.  Stay tuned.