Monday, August 20, 2012

Hightailing It (ha!) to Juneau and on to Hoonah



We woke up to rain the day after our magical bear/whale encounter with the knowledge that we needed to get Mr. Honda to a clinic.   We were scheduled to meet Jolie and Bob, a friend from New Hampshire, at Glacier Bay National Park the following Sunday.  We considered the option of not getting Mr. Honda fixed.  Jolie and Bob are both firefighters; they could row Pup for us.... We got out the planning chart.

 There are not many outboard motor repair shops in Chatham Strait. There are not many outboard motor repair shops in all of Southeast.  Angoon, population 450, is the closest village.  Northwest Boat Travel told us that part of Angoon’s history includes the 1862 Angoon Bombardment when the USS Corwin destroyed the village.  This attack resulted when a Tlingit shaman was accidentally killed by a whaling vessel’s misfire.  As was customary, the Village demanded 200 blankets as payment for the dead man’s family.  Taken as a threat, the bombardment was the response.  In 1973, the Federal Government agreed to an out-of-court settlement for the bombardment.

The only cruising boat couple we talked to who had been to Angoon stayed at a fishing lodge.  We would not be going to Angoon.  We would be going to Juneau.

To get to Juneau, we had to go around Admiralty Island, one of the ABC islands:  Admiralty, Baranof, and Chichagof.  Going up the west side was shorter, but the possible anchorages were in the wrong place, making it a three-day trip.  We opted for the slightly longer east side and two days.  That would put us in Auke Bay Monday evening.

Reluctantly leaving Red Bluff Bay, we entered an unexplained area of cell reception and called Julie on BI for HELP!  She searched the internet and gave us names and numbers of possible repair facilities in Juneau



Monday found us searching for cell service and Honda rep.  We found both (One number turned out to be a Volvo mechanic; the internet sometimes picks up on obscure search words.)  and secured a promise of a Tuesday appointment as well as the only Honda impeller in Juneau.  The impeller had been ordered for an other customer, but he was willing to wait.  Thank you, unknown Honda owner!

Tuesday, found us calling You Name It Delivery Service from Auke Bay, north of Juneau. 

Do you do medical transport? 

We needed two strong men and a truck to transport Mr. Honda.  We got one strong man and one strong Crazy Cowboy who had just moved to Juneau from Arizona and appeared to be high on something not legal, even in Alaska.   Akita, the polite young man who advertised You Name It must have been desperate to find a helper.  We trussed Mr. Honda up in his traveling harness and lowed him over the side into the waiting cart.  It sounds easy, but Mr. Honda becomes woozy anytime his feet are above his head.  We weren’t sure if Akita could keep the Crazy Cowboy (who wanted to HELP) in line, but the move went well.  
Akita is the man with the dark hat, trying to keep  Crazy Cowboy's
hands off the dock cart.



We paid Akita half of the agreed-upon price, (the remainder to be paid when Mr. Honda reappeared) and our outboard left the parking lot, locked in the trunk of Akita’s car, like a kidnap victim.  Doug was not at all sure we would ever see it again.

What to do while we waited?  Go shopping!  We rented a car for the afternoon.  The car rental agency used to be called Rent-a-Dent, but is now Juneau Car Rental. Too bad.  We have explored Juneau before, but missed seeing The Alaska Brewing Company, which we were told is “right next to Costco”.  Everything that is not along Gastineau Channel where, the cruise ships tie up, is “right next to Costco” including Southeast Power Sports (the repair sho), which is directly across the street from the Great Alaskan Brewery Company.  We visited both.

Mr. Honda was already on a stand, waiting to go home, when we went into the shop.  He did not have a burned-up impeller.  His pee tube was clogged.  Ouch. We paid his bill and told him Akita would be back to get time in the morning. As we left, he was happily swapping stories with the other Hondas.

Our visit to the Alaskan Brewing Company was much less expensive.  We loved their story.  A husband and wife started the company in the late ’80’s right after the only brewery in all of Alaska went broke.  Investors were hard to come by, but they found 86 individuals willing to give them various amounts of money.  During the first year, they couldn’t afford to pay people to pack the cartons for shipping, and advertised for volunteers. With free beer as a “thank you gift”, (a large percentage of the bottles were filled to the incorrect level with their old Coca-Cola bottling machine) they were never short of free labor.  Unfortunately, one of the volunteers liked money more than beer and started selling his thank you gifts.  Workers were hired.

They had planned to start a small brewery, sell it after a few years, and do something else.  Alaska Brewery is now the second largest exporter in Alaska, after oil. (I don’t know where fish figure in here.)  The company is both innovative and true to its roots.






When we tied up at Auke Bay on Tuesday, two women from Bremerton saw the Bainbridge Island WA home port on our stern and stopped to chat.  One of them was 84 and told us her friend was “younger”.  Along with two other women of “similar age”, they had brought a 37 foot Nordic Tug up the Inside Passage.  Yahoo!  They were getting underway when we returned from our car trip (‘went to Costco since we were “right next door”) and I didn’t get a chance to talk with them.  The Bremerton Sun did  a feature story on them.  I’ll be looking for that!




Akita and a very different, very skookum, helper returned Thursday morning with Mr. Honda, and our outboard happily settled himself onto Pup’s stern.  Greywolf left for Hoonah, for her second of three visits this summer.  Hoonah was a half day’s travel from Glacier Bay where we would meet Jolie and Bob on Sunday evening.



Watching Mr. Honda being hoisted up to the boat deck.



We’ve lived in Washington a long time.  Does anyone know where Eltopia is?

In Hoonah, we visited a carving shed where an exhibit to be erected in Glacier Bay in 2015, is being created;  the Hoonah Indian Association and National Park Service are working together to construct a replica Tlingit clan house.  In 1996, a plan began to provide the Huna Tlingit with the first permanent clan house in their homeland since their villages were destroyed by an advancing glacier over 250 years ago. I have heard rumblings that the idea was at first resisted (g’ment agencies don’t like ideas that are not their own), but now the clan house is underway.

Master carver Gordon Greenwald used a geographic motif in the 16x32 foot design. With crests and iconic symbols in relative geographic positions, the screen depicts the stories of the four Glacier Bay clans and their deep connection to their Glacier Bay homeland. Once completed, the structure will serve as an interpretive center where visitors can learn about Tlingit culture and a place where Tlingit communities and organizations can provide cultural workshops on topics such as Native art, woodworking, weaving, song and dance, healthy living, and more.
                                                 ..... from The Fairweather, Glacier Bay’s newsletter




My camera did not like the lighting in the carving shed; everything turned out a shade of green not found in nature.  I’m sure there is a way to adjust the camera to deal with this. I’m sure I do not know what it is.  




We met Gordon, a retired shop and art teacher from Hoonah , and his assistant, at the carving shed.  The “shed” is the former auto shop for the school; it was closed a number of years ago for lack of funding so the building was available for this project.  The  completed interior house screen was on display and two of the five poles (one for each clan, and a fifth to show present-day unity) were being carved. 


Gordon explained the significance of the different animals and images and mentioned the spirit of the glaciers. He said the stories of the four clans took days to tell and he had to choose what to incorporate in the poles.  On the house screen, there is one line that goes the entire width of the thirty-two foot panel, signifying the interconnectedness of all things.









Doug and I are familiar with many on the North Cost and Alaskan animal spirits, but had not been aware that the glaciers also have a spirit.  I mentioned this later to a Park Naturalist when we were talking about the carvings.  He said that he understood that not only do the glaciers have a spirit, but that spirit no more important than the spirit in the grains of sand on the beach.  We’re learning.








*****************
Cindy, a friend on BI, had told us that her brother is a fisherman in SE. Jeff is fishing out of Hoonah this summer and we got together with him on Saturday.  Having fished Southeast for years, he knows the history of the towns and we enjoyed his stories, insight, and perspective.  



Jeff and Doug discussing the paravanes.


Jeff told us about an “end time” community that had settled at Game Creek, south of Hoonah  in the 1970’s.  The organization, that had communities in other parts of the country, believed that the end of the world must be near (although they did not know the exact year) and they needed to be separate from the ills of society when that happened.  They kept to themselves, not even talking to the people in town when they came in for supplies.  Over the years, they became more assimilated and a family from the farm now owns a very well-stocked fishing equipment store in Hoonah.  I don’t know how many people still live on the farm.

When Doug and I went to the grocery store that afternoon, he showed me a book, Wilderness Blues, with stories about people living in the area (one of my “must-read” types of books).  We bought it and discovered it covered the early history of the Game Farm written by a man who came to the Farm shortly after it was established.  Tom Bott stayed on the Farm for ten years, before moving to Hoonah with his family and fishing for a living.


Jeff’s boat
Lures on Bifrost.  They looked like they wanted their 
picture taken.
Down the dock from Bifrost, a boat owner had found another reason to eat oatmeal.

Jolie hoped to go fishing while she was in Alaska, so Doug and I bought a fishing license and some extra halibut jigs (for the ones we were sure to lose...).  Jeff loaned us a pole and marked halibut holes on our charts. He must have loaned us his Good Luck Pole.  It caught a halibut in Glacier Bay!


These girls are from Switzerland.  Their dad is Canadian, mom Swiss.  They live there in the winter and in Canada in the summer.  



Halibut abound in Port Alexander.  On Saturday night, there were seventeen boats tied to the transient moorage dock, most of them 17-28 foot go-fast boats and most of them with halibut.  The majority of the people were from Whitehorse, British Columbia.  They trailer their boats to Skagway and zip down the forty-mile long Lynn Canal to Southeast’s great halibut fishing grounds.  The fish-cleaning station on the dock had people queued up, waiting their turn to stock their coolers.  A fisherman gave Doug a ziplock bag with several pounds.




The kids were excited to be catching herring for bait for the next day.






I later talked to a local who was incensed about flagrant over-fishing by the Canadians; he said skippers routinely came in with four times their limit.  When I mentioned this later to Greywolf’s crew, we agreed that it would only take one or two boats being impounded before the Canadians would start paying attention to the rules and regs.  But this is Alaska, so the chances of that happening are slim.



One of the dogs on the dock wanted to roll in the fish.  He had to get back on his boat...



We don’t see many tidal grids on Washington any more.  I think all of the harbors in 
Southeast have at least one.


Allie was pooped after playing with kids and dogs on the dock.




Doesn’t he look like a person to you??? 
 (This was carved by Mother Nature.) Then I looked in his mouth......


Greywolf got underway on Sunday, headed for Bartlett Cove in Glacier Bay and her first-ever opportunity to be a hostess to Guests At Sea.  Forty feet was about to become even smaller.




Saturday, August 18, 2012

Red Rock and an Alaska Experience






We had just hauled Allie out of the water and into our dinghy when we head a whoosh.  Turning, we saw a hole in the water and a plume of whale exhalation.

WHALE.  I’m not sure which one of us quietly named the animal we could not see. 
Two hours earlier, Greywolf had found (with zero help from either of her depth sounders) a shallow eight-fathom spot to anchor at the head of Red Bluff Bay.  

Distinctive red rock on one side of the mouth of the bay.  Very un-Alaaskan.

A shore boat, from a handsome pocket cruise ship anchored in the bay, stopped in front of the wide delta known as Bear Meadow, while the guests viewed a brown bear grazing in the tall grass.  





Allie watching the bear on shore and the people watching the bear on shore.





                View from the bow.   Bear Meadow is to the right.  In another week, the salmon would
                           be coming into the stream and the bear would have given up eating grass.



By the time we launched Pup, our inflatable, the cruise ship was getting underway.  We donned life jackets and set out on An Explore.  Of course, we headed for Bear Meadow, but Bear had ambled away.  As we motored down the bay to get “stunning shots” of Greywolf with a waterfall behind her, I spotted Bear, or maybe an entirely Different Bear,  tucked away in the tall grass, selecting tasty morsels.  Most of my attempts at photos resulted in bear ass shots, (I know...) but I got a few photos of ears and a nose.  Eventually, Bear left and so did we.






While we were watching Bear, Allie was watching this mom and her babes.

I took one or two pictures of Greywolf with the waterfall behind her, but the “stunning” quality was missing.  The bright ball of fire in the sky sending sparkles all over the surface of the water was much appreciated, but didn’t make for great photography.  We planned to try again in the early evening light.  We didn’t know we’d be focused on other things when we returned. 





We continued toward the mouth of the bay, four miles away, in search of a bear-free island where Allie could poop and play.

Pup has a 9.9 electric-start Honda that came with Greywolf.  He always starts on the first push of the button. So simple, even I can do it. He started as always, but no cooling water appeared.   Doug tipped him up and checked his water intake screens, then took off the cowling to see if there were parts lying all over the top of the engine. Mr. Honda looked fine.  Mr. Honda ran fine.  But Mr. Honda did not pee. Mr. Honda is supposed to pee.



We motored to the mouth of the bay and Doug shut down the now rather warm outboard to row through the rocks and seaweed surrounding the islands where Red Bluff Bay meets Chatham Strait, looking for the best piece of real estate. 

Our choice was was barely more than a rock, but boat-bound dogs are not picky.  Allie bounded out of Pup without noticing that neither of her people scampered over the treacherous seaweed to explore with her.   However, when she reappeared over the crest of the rock and saw her boat and her people apparently abandoning her, (Doug was rowing around the rock to look for a landing spot) she plunged into the water.  Doug rowed toward her, and I was hauling Allie into Pup when we heard the whale.


           See those little dots to the left of the middle island?  One of those is Allie’s rock.


                                                               Allie prior to being abandoned.



At this point, we were not sure Mr. Honda would start or would keep running if he did start. Things get fairly uncomfortable when you can’t pee; he might not be able to concentrate.  Our collapsable oars were finding new ways to collapse.  Pup slued  around the rocks and seaweed.  Greywolf was four miles away.

At least the tide is incoming for another hour, I offered as we contemplated the possibility that we might have to row back to the boat. Then I looked at the long feathery arms of seaweed. Oh. They were flowing out to sea, as were we.  The river and creek at the head of the bay, as well as the many waterfalls we had admired on our Explore, were putting more water into the bay than Chatham Strait’s incoming tide could push in.  The tide was indeed incoming, but the current was outgoing.  We didn’t try to figure out how that worked.


Whhosh.  A second plume of whale exhale appeared at the edge of one of the islands.



He’s going inside the islands.  One of us stated the obvious: Whale was not planning to circle the islands and head back into Chatham Strait.  Dinner was being served at The Red Bluff Bay Cafe that evening and Whale was enjoying the only things on the menu: krill.  

We love watching whales and have not seen many this summer. We love watching  multi-ton whales from our multi-ton boat.  Pup is ten feet long. Tonnage not so much. The whale longer.  Heavier.  Would he know we were there if we did not have a motor?  

With Mr. Honda at low throttle, we followed Whale in the evening sunshine.  Our whale’s plumes told us when to move to the opposite shore. We rarely saw more than a small part of his ample back and the plumes of exhalation. Our whale swam leisurely from one side to the other, eating his way up this steep-sided bay.




Allie was so excited to be in the dinghy spotting rocks, seaweed, leaves, birds, and whales, that I had tied the dinghy painter to her lifejacket.  The painter made it easier to hang onto her and if she launched herself overboard in pursuit of a leaf, I could easily haul her aboard. 

Before it became apparent that Mr. Honda was able to keep running, my mind was taken over by Aliens.  Quick little flashes of impossible WHAT IF scenarios careened by with no spaces between them, unencumbered by the thought process.
  
WHAT IF Whale did notknowewerethereandWhalecameupunderourdinghyandweallfellinthe waterandAlliewastiedyothedinghyandcouldn’tswimtoshore
andAlliedrowned? (The Aliens took no notice of the fact that whales do not behave like this or that we would be in water with Allie if something happened to Pup.  Aliens do not deal with facts.)


WHAT IF Whale did notknowwewerethereandWhalecameupunderourdinghyandweallfellinthewaterandAlliewastiedtotheboatandWhalechompedthroughthe

dinghypainterandatethedog?



WHAT IF I
haduntiedthedinghypainterandWhaledidnotknowwe werethereandWhalecamupunderourboatandweallfellinthewaterand Allieswamtoshoreandhadnowheretogointhetreesandbrushand...

(I did not share these scenarios with Doug, although maybe I should have.  The reminder that he was living with an irrational woman would have taken his mind off Mr. Honda's ills.)



At this point, the Aliens were exhausted from laughing, and retreated, returning me to the beautiful evening and beautiful experience.




Our four-mile trip was like floating out of time.  The mountains, trees, sun, water, and whale absorbed us.










When we got to the head of the bay, our whale swam around Greywolf, then headed for the far side.  As we tied up Pup, Whale came closer, gave us a goodbye flip of his tail and swam away.





We had heard on our previous two trips to Southeast that Red Bluff Bay was a wonderful place, not to be missed.  We now add our endorsement and our gratitude for this day.


Friday, August 17, 2012

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