Baranof Hot Springs

Greywolf departed Sitka early in the morning on July 23, headed for Sturgis Narrows and Peril Strait.

Neva Strait, headed for Peril Strait

Neva Strait.  We couldn’t red the name or dates.

We’ve got to be in the roughest place in Southeast.  

Doug and I were listening to the weather forecast as we came out of Peril Strait into Chatham  Strait a day after leaving Sitka.  All stations were reporting calm seas and winds below 10 knots. Our forecast of 10 knots was exceeded by the 15-20 readout from our anemometer.  The accompanying 2-4 foot swells with “whitehorses” (one of our cruising guides gave me a new word for “whitecaps”) were not frightening but they were uncomfortable.  

The seas went from uncomfortable to disgusting.  I called down to Doug in the galley to hand me some paper towels.

What spilled?

The dog.

Our canine-indictor-of-sea-state had thrown up.

Allie has now thrown up four times on the trip.  Allie doesn’t throw up in the classic rup, rup, rup, splat that I am used to in a dog.  She leans over and spills.  Very quiet. And since she doesn’t usually eat in the morning, it is not a horrible clean up job.

Our other indicator of a disgusting sea-state is the brass bell outside the pilot house door.  It was only ringing occasionally as we experienced the delight of “wind against tide” in this long strait that empties into the Gulf of Alaska.  The water was hurrying south to the Gulf and the wind wanted to get north.  When the tide turned an hour later, the wind and water were both headed north; the seas flattened out and our two sea-state indicators went off-duty.

At Warm Springs Bay on the opposite side ofBaranof Island from Sitka, we found the small dock full, with four seine boats rafted out.  One boat on the end had no one rafted to him, and although he didn’t have fenders out (an invitation to tie up), Doug hailed them and asked permission to tie up.  Certainly.  In fact, they were hoping to leave within the hour and then we could be on the dock.

Allie inspecting our host on the dock, a boat out of Seattle.

The fishing boats were waiting for the announcement of the next opening.  Only one of the boats had a cell phone that had reception in the bay, so all the skippers were on that boat waiting for the announcement.  What did they do before cell phones? The skipper of the boat we were tied to said they were fishing for pink salmon, but had been catching mostly chum.  That must make it hard to pay the bills.

Baranof Warm Springs has a handful of well-maintained cabins and houses as well as a public bath house: a building containing three little rooms with fiberglass tubs and views of the falls. The fishermen love it!  

The last time we were here, there was a line of fishermen

waiting to use the tubs.

A walk up the massive boardwalk takes you to a trail leading down to a pool next to the falls where you can enjoy the warm water is a more natural setting.  The trail was muddy, our dog is white, and Doug is scheduled for knee surgery in October.  We followed the boardwalk to the lake.

The ducks (those little dots) are safe from the Poodle Huntress

The fastest way to get here...

Hope for the future or looking for the greater fool?  
See property below.

The cabins looked more precarious in person...

Only $139,000.  No plumbing.  Or electricity. Or garage.

Plenty of water available.

Dogzz don’t need no boardwalk.

Add caption

One resident said that all the dogs learn to walk on the wood rails
as much as possible.  Allie got pretty good at it.

Southeast Alaska evening

As Allie and I started her morning walk the next day, I made an encouraging comment to an older-than-me couple doing a boat repair. He was hanging out over the back of their 26 foot cruiser, in the  water up to his elbow with a tool in his hand.  They had bent the prop on the outdrive and been towed into Warm Springs.  He was trying to get the zinc off the prop to put the new prop on; being a prudent mariner he had put Lock Tite on the zinc so it wouldn’t spin off.  Good stuff, that Lock Tite.  (You may wonder what an encouraging comment in this situation sounds like...)

I asked where they had put the boat in the water.  Prince Rupert.  Prince Rupert is hundreds of miles to the south. Where were they from?  Michigan.  Oh.  

Before I could ask if they were crazy, the skipper told me they had lived in Alaska for 26 years, spending each summer cruising.  For the last few years, they have trailered the boat from their home in Michigan to Prince Rupert to revisit their old Southeast haunts.  The wife said this trip was their “last hurrah”...at least the last one she was making.  

When we came back from the walk, the skipper had the new prop on and they were getting underway for Sitka.  Alaska Spirit aging well!

We got underway soon after for a short trip down Chatham Strait to Red Bluff Bay.

Map from Sitka to Warm Springs Bay and Red Bluff Bay