Pelican and the Gulf of Aaska

We left Hoonah on Friday, June 29th, headed for Elfin Cove, about 35 miles away.  Whales joined us before we went through North Inian Pass (we avoided South Inian with its currents of 6-8 knots) and were spit out into Cross Sound.  Cross Sound was cross and Greywolf got tossed about as we headed for Elfin Cove.  We’d been looking forward to visiting this tiny village, but found the transient moorage full and very little water (at low tide) in the confusing channel leading to the inner harbor. Greywolf tucked in her almost-five-foot keel and picked her way back out to open water. We headed for Pelican, our planned destination after Elfin Cove.  

The Official Word on How to Photograph Whales  

We have been told by our friend Bruce, who crewed on a charter sailboat, that you have to snap the picture of the whale 1.5 seconds before the whale breaks the surface.  Now we know.

  Pelican’s very nice transient moorage.  No, it is not snowing.

Our cruising guides (you are probably rolling your eyes now, as I have complained previously about these publications) assured us that Pelican, the supply center for Cross Sound fishermen, had a bar and grill, restaurant, marine supply store, gift shop, public library with internet, public telephones (that translates to no cell reception) friendly people, good moorage, limited repairs, fuel, a post office, etc.  Pictures showed substantial buildings and a boardwalk, all on pilings.  After we tied up at and started our explore  along “Salmon Way”, it became clear that the amenities described in our 2011 guide were mostly defunct.  Pelican has one large charter fishing resort and a few small ones.

At one end of the boardwalk was the former fish processing facility and the closed grocery store. Pelican residents put in their two-week grocery orders with a store in Juneau, and Alaska Ferries deliver.  No spur of the moment trips to the 7-11 for chips.

At the other end of the boardwalk we found the school built on stilts on a delta; the four separate edifices were all newer than any of the buildings we had passed.  As we wandered around taking pictures, an aging once-red pick-up with a barrel of diesel in the bed and more rust than paint, drove slowly by.  The driver rolled down his window and Doug explained that the retired teacher with him just had to take pictures.  

High school building

The driver brightened.  I’m president of the school board. We have a teacher for this year, but keep us in mind!   We’re always looking.  Humm....  Doug had seen a flyer requesting lodging for the next year’s teacher.  

We asked about the school. The buildings were for elementary/Head Start, middle, high school and the music program.  Now only the Head Start and high school buildings were being used.  Eleven students are enrolled for this fall. 

Pelican Seafoods flourished for decades, but time and fish move on.  We had read before we left BI, that the town of Pelican had recently purchased the closed facility from a Native corporation, but did not know the details. 

And the seafood plant?  It was sold to “The Japanese” some years ago.  They sold it to a Native cooperation from Kake which had converted another fish processing facility into a high-end fishing resort.  They planned to do the same with Pelican.  Our Pelican-booster was pleased that the residents had somehow defeated the plan and had purchased the plant.  The town now hopes to start a fish hatchery and eventually have a profitable fish run and attract a buyer for the now-empty facility.    

Salmon Way

School Board President’s headed....not far.

For an outsider, it doesn’t look like there is enough money in all of Southeast make Pelican viable. But an outsider is called that for a reason.  The passion and commitment of the forty or so full-time residents, combined with a good plan and good luck, just might be what it takes to make it work.  In The Lisianski Gazette, the one graduating high school senior was quoted as saying that Pelican would always be his home town, even if it were a ghost town.  

We ignored our resolve to frequent local establishments and didn’t go to Rosie’s Bar on Friday night.  Our school board chairman said that if you go to Rosie’s, the locals will encourage you to stand on the bar to tack a dollar bill to the ceiling.  Don’t do it: they will “pants” you. Now, I know you’re chuckling at the mental imagine of Doug or I standing on the bar, but as a former middle school teacher, it sounded too much like teaching seventh grade, and I’m on vacation.

Someone needs to be marketing this sign......

How could you not like this town????

It only LOOKS cold!  
No, this is not Find Waldo.  Greywolf is not in the picture.

Library with good internet connection.  Staffed by volunteers and open two hours a day.
Thank you!

Very nice moorage.  The Port of Pelican charged almost as much
for electrical power as they did to moor our 40-foot boat.
Can you find her gray hull in the gray water/land/sky?

We had tentatively planned to stay in Pelican for the Fourth of July, but since we had by-passed Tenakee Spring, that would have meant six days in Pelican.  Above our limit.

Saturday morning, we  headed for Lisianski Strait and the Gulf of Alaska: destination  Sitka, two days away.  Navigation in this area is recommended only in fair weather with good visibility.  A forecast of 10 knots of NW winds qualified as fair weather.  And when the clouds lifted off the water here and there, the visibility was adequate. 

We had our poles out, ready to launch the paravane fish, but we wouldn’t do it until we were clear of the myriad number of rocks and islets at the mouth of Lisianski Strait and were out in THE GULF OF ALASKA.  

The seas in the Gulf were “confused”. This is a clear description of water when it is a mess. We had a two-to-four foot swell, but we also had chop and lumps and bumps (nautical terms, all). 

“That’s why you have an insurance company.  And a cremation plan.”  This was Doug’s  comment as we slowed down, set the auto pilot and put on life jackets with safety harnesses to launch the paravane fish.  Greywolf  settled her substantial stern into the sloppy seas and the dog threw up.  

Two hours later, we entered a series of island that would afford us shelter and a navigation challenge.  The water flattened out and we retrieved our fish.  As we snaked our way through the islands, I asked Doug if we should pull in our poles; some of the passages were narrow and intricate.  Doug did not roll his eyes, but did assure me that Greywolf would fit.

View from our anchorage in Double Cove.  
Going through the narrow entrance on Friday afternoon, the chart plotter showed the little orange triangle that represents Greywolf up on the shore.  Not terribly helpful.  I was on the foredeck, looking for sea monsters.  

Handsome mini-cruise ship in Neva Strait north of Sitka

High speed Alaskan Ferry Fairweather headed for Juneau.
We turned in to her substantial wake and imagined the conversations among
the kayakers near the shore.

Sitka!