So far, our trip has been remarkable. The weather has been splendid, with blue skys, mild winds, and favorable currents. Our only stretch of bad weather so far began just North of Campbell River, while in Seamore Narrows. Our timing into the rapids was a little premature, and we ended up fighting a 4 to 6 knot current. At one point, we were motoring as hard as we could, and going backwards. Never the less, we broke free, but once we reached the Northern end of the rapids, it began snowing. Within minutes it became a full-blown blizzard, with visibility down to about 75 feet, the wipers unable to keep the windshield clear, and snow building on the boat quickly. The radar was useless due to the scatter from the snow, but we continued on having no choice. About fifteen minutes into the storm, I saw a bright light appear directly in front of. As I mentioned this to Janet, I saw that the light was coming from a float plane! He was flying about three feet off the water, with steep mountains on both sides. Hopefully, he knew where he was, as directly in front of him were a set of power lines that crossed from shore to shore about 100 feet in the air, and after that, the water way makes a sharp left turn with houses lining the shore line cliffs. He passed us at eye level, and was gone as quickly as he appeared. Janet remarked that if he had any passengers, it would probably be the last time they ever flew in a small plane. I imagine the pilot needed a fresh set of underwear by days end too.
About an hour later it was time to quit for the day, and we pulled into a lovely anchorage named Granite Bay. As we approached the bay, this strange contraption buzzed us.
Granite Bay is well protected from winds in every direction with a shallow muddy bottom, it was a great place to stop for the night. The shore line is populated with summer cabins and year round residences. Several run down, half sunken float houses gave it the look of a nautical trailer park though. About one in the morning I was awakened by a grinding noise coming from the hull. In my sleep induced stupor I thought we might be on the rocks, but a quick look at the depth sounder revealed a good 15 feet of water under the keel. Turning on the spot light showed the noise to be from ice grinding on the hull as the boat swung on the anchor. Temps were in the low 30s, and ice had formed on the fresh water floating on the surface. A noisy night didn't allow much sleep, and in the morning we played icebreaker on the way out.
Last night we anchored in Codville Lagoon across from Seaforth Channel . The lagoon is a Provincial park and well protected from any winds. The entrance is narrow and rocky but passable. It was at this point that the plotter decided to lock up leaving us to navigate with the depth sounder only, but forward looking sonar makes this pretty easy. As I always emphasize, you can't rely on any one single source of information, and paper charts should be close at hand. Electronic stuff always seems to choke at the worst possible time.
As we passed the narrowest part of the entrance, Janet spotted a Wolf on the shore. He was quite cooperative as he stood perfectly still as while passed just feet away. A couple of quick photos confirmed that he wasn't a lost dog.
April 5th
Today finds us passing Shearwater and headed into a big storm. Winds are predicted to rise from Gale force (34 to 47 knots) to Storm Force (48 to 63 knots) in the next 24 hours so we are making our way North as far as possible and once the winds kick in we may be stuck for a day or two. Time will tell.
Friday, April 06, 2007
As it turned out, the big storm wasn't that big, winds peaked at about 50 knots. We decided to quit early and ducked into a small cove named Rescue bay. We got the anchor d
own in 35 feet of water, and put out all 300 feet of chain incase the blow increased, but the bay was fairly protected and we spent a pretty quiet night.The next morning we headed out through an extremely narrow and shallow passage aptly named Jackson Narrows.
Winding our way through the rocks using the forward looking sonar was only nerve wracking for a short time, then the passage opened up to a wide, deep channel between steep, towering snow covered peaks. Nestled in a couple small coves were two fish farms. The farmers were tending the fish from boats piled high with bags of genetically engineered, and red died fish food. The Salmon recognize the sound of the outboard motor, and get really excited knowing that food won't be far behind. Despite all the jumping fish and splashing about, it was a very tranquil setting. A couple Sea Lions patrolled nearby hoping to grab a quick snack, but the pens are usually quite secure from those types of attacks.
Our next stop is always at the abandoned cannery of Butedale. Our friend Lou is the caretaker there, and lives alone with only Bert the dog, and three cats to keep him company. The entire place gets its electricity from a Pelton wheel turned by water from the lake above.
In years past, the wheel turned a huge generator and made enough electricty to power all the machinery for the cannery, but now there are so many holes in the penstock that only enough water flows to turn a small 12 volt alternator. The alternator is connected to an inverter that feeds a single overhead wire to Lou's home. Prior to Lou's arrival, there was no one taking care of the place, and the big generator kept the lights on for seven years, twenty four hours a day. Truly a case of the "lights were on, but no one was home".Anyway, it was a long winter with few visitors, so Lou was up for spending some time with human companions for a change. He had just finished fixing the roof to his wood shed since it blew off in a big storm. Since he is alone, he had to take it apart, and rebuild it one piece at a time, otherwise with a couple of people to help he could have replaced it in one piece. When Lou comes to visit, all the animals come too. His cat jumped aboard and seemed to love the boat. When it was time to leave, she hid behind the recliner. I had to move it to get her out. That night she stayed near the boat and begged to come back aboard. In the morning, I opened the door, and she promptly came in and made her self at home in my lap, in front of the heater. I think she wanted to run away with us. Anyway, it's always fun to compare photos from years past and see how much further the buildings have fallen down.
Easter Sunday.
Were now comfortably tied t
o the dock in Prince Rupert waiting for a series of storms to blow through, so we can cross Dixon Entrance. The current conditions in Dixon are winds to 35knots, and seas are running between 12 to 14 feet. Not what I would consider a nice crossing. Since we don't pick up our first group of trainees until the 16th, I prefer to wait out the storm here.Monday, April 09, 2007
What a difference a day makes. While the winds were howling, and the seas were thrashing the shore, we lay tied to the dock warm and comfortable. This morning we woke to a good forecast, and headed out for Dixon Entrance and Alaska. By the time we got to open water the seas were down to a ripple with a slight Westerly swell. Our new friend Tom was right behind us, so we used the opportunity to photograph each other's vessels in front of the Green Island Lighthouse at the Northern end of Dundas Island.
After a flat calm crossing, Tom decided to call it quits at Foggy Bay while we continued on to a snug little anchorage at the Northern tip of Ham Island, about 15 miles South of Ketchikan. Were in no hurry to get to town and prefer to spend a quiet night at anchor, rather than taking part in the sensory overload of the big city. Soon enough we will be in town rushing to get ready for the first charter of the season. Meanwhile, a Steller Sea Lion lazily swims past the boat hoping for a last meal before dark. Again, were surrounded by snow-capped mountains. It's really great to be back in Alaska.
We arrived in Ketchikan ahead of schedule, so we were able to take our time provisioning the boat, and got to relax a bit. Our passengers arrived on time, and we were off again on the 16th of April. The day prior to departure saw winds to 40 knots, and seas outside the harbor about two feet. I'm sure our passenger's Brian, Toby, and Bill wondered what they had gotten themselves into, but the next day dawned calm and sunny. Short days with lots of sight seeing was to be the plan for the week. We spent time doing training each day, and Brian got in plenty of hands on helm time. Meanwhile, Janet created some real feasts in the galley, and no one went hungry for even a second. Early evenings usually found the Arctic Traveller anchored in a small cove with plenty of time to explore. Bill seemed to enjoy the kayak more than the dingy, and patrolled the shoreline in the evenings. (As far as we know, he only fell in twice)
Brian found the dingy most useful for putting out the crab pot, and running back and forth from the kayak to the boat to get Bill a couple more beers. One night was spent in Petersburg so folks could explore the town, and the next day we departed for the Laconte Glacier.
It wasn't long though before we spotted our first Humpback whale. We spent time watching and photographing them and at one point had one swim directly under the boat and surface just feet away.All too soon we had to depart for the glacier, but we were rewarded by the sight of Mountain Goats on the way in, and hundreds of Harbor Seals once we arrived at the glacier. Surrounded by towering snow-capped peaks, we quietly floated with the engine off among the seals while soaking in the incredible beauty all around us.
While heading for our next anchorage, we came across a Steller Sea Lion haul-out. I first noticed them by the sound of hundreds of grunting and groaning animals as they struggled to gain a grip on the slippery rocks. The smell down wind was hard to describe, but let me just say that upwind was the place to be.
Many hours and several whales later we anchored in Thomas Bay for the night. The following morning we were greeted by dense fog, so it was a perfect chance to demonstrate tactics for use in restricted visibility. Soon enough though, the sun came out and it was another amazing day of warm breezes and spectacular Alaskan scenery. The following nights, we anchored early, explored by dingy and kayak, and ate like kings and queens. All too soon, it was our last night before getting to Juneau, but it was a fun one. We tied to the dock in Taku Harbor, along with about a dozen other boats that were ready to party. After all, it was the first sunny weekend in months, and Juneau had just suffered through record snow fall. The party went on long into the night, with a big bonfire on the beach and lots of laughing and general carrying on.
One last day of sunny weather was all we needed to end a terrific week, and we got it. Our new friends have now departed the boat, and we are eagerly looking forward to our next adventure
