The wind howled all night, the waves splashed, the boat rocked, the rain pattered, but our anchors held. We were in the same place this morning that we were in last night.
Heard on the radio that winds are gusting to 55 at Egg Island. That's on the other side of Queen Charlotte Sound.
The storm raged here all morning but suddenly quit at noon, so we took off. Totally calm by evening when we reached Butedale.
Not as many boats here this time, but there are five in addition to ours. A guy on another boat gave Roy a fresh salmon, so now we have fish for supper.
The generator quit yesterday, so Roy had to work on it to get it going again.
The fishing boat where the guy gave Roy the fish is disabled and waiting for a tow to Port Hardy. We heard on the VHF that another fishing boat is disabled off Griffin Point, about eight miles from here. About nine o'clock tonight, a small cruise ship with a zillion lights came into the bay, towing the second disabled boat. We also saw a tugboat towing something, but it took off. All kinds of excitement tonight, but it's too dark to see much of what's going on.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, September 6, 1992 - Promise Island, BC
Amazing how quickly the weather changes. Yesterday evening was calm as could be, but last night the wind started howling. We're very, very lucky we crossed Dixon Entrance when we did; the wind is now blowing 20 to 30 knots there with predicted storm winds of 50 knots and 15-foot seas! There are similar conditions at Queen Charlotte Sound, so we're also lucky we're not there. In fact, we couldn't have picked a better place to be in a storm. Yet even here in our sheltered cove, we dragged several hundred feet with 90 feet of chain! We were eating breakfast when we realized we were in only 11 feet of water! And it was high tide! So we interrupted breakfast and got out of there in a hurry.
As usual, the crab trap contained only a starfish.
Grenville Channel was full of whitecaps when we poked our nose out there, but we were able to make 4 knots, and later in the day, the wind calmed down quite a bit.
We're in a race now with time and weather, trying to get back to the relative safety of San Francisco Bay while we still can. We should reach Victoria around the middle of September. Then we'll bop across to Port Angeles and be back in the U.S. The hard part of the trip will come when we round the cape and head back down the coast.
Spent the day motoring down the Grenville Channel. Wouldn't you know -- when I was at the helm, we practically had a traffic jam. A big tugboat pulling a big barge was coming up in back of us, while a huge cruise ship and another big ship were approaching us. And the channel was only 3/4 of a mile wide! Fortunately, everyone got by ok.
The weather was wet and cold all day. I was wearing five and sometimes six layers of clothing. Thank goodness we have the snug, dry doghouse! And windshield wipers. It rained all day and will probably rain all night.
Reached the end of Grenville Channel in time to anchor behind Promise Island just before dark. We anchored on a broad shelf in 42 feet of water. This time, we put out two anchors and 150 feet of chain.
As usual, the crab trap contained only a starfish.
Grenville Channel was full of whitecaps when we poked our nose out there, but we were able to make 4 knots, and later in the day, the wind calmed down quite a bit.
We're in a race now with time and weather, trying to get back to the relative safety of San Francisco Bay while we still can. We should reach Victoria around the middle of September. Then we'll bop across to Port Angeles and be back in the U.S. The hard part of the trip will come when we round the cape and head back down the coast.
Spent the day motoring down the Grenville Channel. Wouldn't you know -- when I was at the helm, we practically had a traffic jam. A big tugboat pulling a big barge was coming up in back of us, while a huge cruise ship and another big ship were approaching us. And the channel was only 3/4 of a mile wide! Fortunately, everyone got by ok.
The weather was wet and cold all day. I was wearing five and sometimes six layers of clothing. Thank goodness we have the snug, dry doghouse! And windshield wipers. It rained all day and will probably rain all night.
Reached the end of Grenville Channel in time to anchor behind Promise Island just before dark. We anchored on a broad shelf in 42 feet of water. This time, we put out two anchors and 150 feet of chain.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Saturday, September 5, 1992 - Kumealon Inlet, BC
Roy got a Canadian fishing license this morning. Also some lures and stuff.
He let me take the boat away from the dock for the first time. There was no wind and we had plenty of room, so it was easy.
We went to the Esso dock for diesel, but we were a couple of miles down the channel before we remembered we needed gas for the generator, so we had to double back. We tried to go to the Shell dock, which was nearby, but it was closed, so we went to the Chevron dock, which was almost as far back as the Esso dock. All this cost us a couple of hours, so it was noon by the time we got away from Prince Rupert. We had hoped to spend the night at Lowe Inlet, but we didn't have time to get there, so we anchored in the same quiet, secluded cove by Kumealon Inlet that we'd anchored in on the way north. This time we didn't have it all to ourselves, however; two other boats arrived shortly after we did. There was plenty of room for all of us.
Roy put out the crab trap and also tried to fish. Hope he has better luck with the crabs than he did with the fish.
He let me take the boat away from the dock for the first time. There was no wind and we had plenty of room, so it was easy.
We went to the Esso dock for diesel, but we were a couple of miles down the channel before we remembered we needed gas for the generator, so we had to double back. We tried to go to the Shell dock, which was nearby, but it was closed, so we went to the Chevron dock, which was almost as far back as the Esso dock. All this cost us a couple of hours, so it was noon by the time we got away from Prince Rupert. We had hoped to spend the night at Lowe Inlet, but we didn't have time to get there, so we anchored in the same quiet, secluded cove by Kumealon Inlet that we'd anchored in on the way north. This time we didn't have it all to ourselves, however; two other boats arrived shortly after we did. There was plenty of room for all of us.
Roy put out the crab trap and also tried to fish. Hope he has better luck with the crabs than he did with the fish.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Friday, September 4, 1992 - Prince Rupert, BC
Another calm, sunny day. Left Dundas Island before dawn and arrived in Prince Rupert around two. This time, the guy from Customs came out and inspected the boat. Most thorough inspection we've ever had. We passed okay.
Walked over to Safeway with our blue wagon and replenished our food supply. Prices here are ridiculously high. We bought $50 worth of groceries for $80. It's a good thing we don't smoke -- cigarettes are $5.37 a pack!
Walked over to Safeway with our blue wagon and replenished our food supply. Prices here are ridiculously high. We bought $50 worth of groceries for $80. It's a good thing we don't smoke -- cigarettes are $5.37 a pack!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Thursday, September 3, 1992 - Dundas Island, BC
We're really headed home now. Zoomed down the coast to Dixon Entrance and across to Dundas Island in Canada. Very calm day. Even had some sunshine. We've certainly been lucky with the weather. Dixon Entrance can be wild and stormy, but it was calm for us, both going and coming. Even had a nice little southwest breeze, so we were able to sail on a beam reach.
Yesterday, we heard the Coast Guard on VHF radio trying to contact a fishing boat, Sharon A., that had gone aground at Black Rock. This morning, they announce that the boat had sunk. A few hours later, we went within a hundred yards of it. It was eerie, seeing the tops of the spars sticking out of the water at a crazy angle. Presumably, all hands were rescued; the Coast Guard wasn't far away.
Yesterday, we heard the Coast Guard on VHF radio trying to contact a fishing boat, Sharon A., that had gone aground at Black Rock. This morning, they announce that the boat had sunk. A few hours later, we went within a hundred yards of it. It was eerie, seeing the tops of the spars sticking out of the water at a crazy angle. Presumably, all hands were rescued; the Coast Guard wasn't far away.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday, September 2, 1992 - Smeaton Bay, AK
Nothing but a starfish, a conch, and the putrid fish in the crab trap. Roy had fun getting the dead fish out of the trap without touching it.
We paddled ashore and hiked up a terrific trail through dense rain forest to Punchbowl Lake. We were amazed to find a great many wooden walkways and steps. The Forest Service has certainly expended a great deal of effort constructing and maintaining this trail.
Went by a magnificent waterfall. Saw lots of towering rock cliffs. The lake was lovely. We were astonished to find a sturdily built shelter at the end of the trail! If we'd had more time, we could have brought up our sleeping bags and spent a couple of nights there. There was also an outhouse and even a rowboat! Comments in the guest book indicated a lot of people had rowed around the lake. Some had even gone swimming! The place had been quite popular in June, July, and August, but no one else was there now.
Returned to the boat, ate lunch, and left for Smeaton Bay. Just as we were entering the cove where we were planning on spending the night, we saw a black bear walking along the shore. As soon as he saw us, he trotted into the woods.
We paddled ashore and hiked up a terrific trail through dense rain forest to Punchbowl Lake. We were amazed to find a great many wooden walkways and steps. The Forest Service has certainly expended a great deal of effort constructing and maintaining this trail.
Went by a magnificent waterfall. Saw lots of towering rock cliffs. The lake was lovely. We were astonished to find a sturdily built shelter at the end of the trail! If we'd had more time, we could have brought up our sleeping bags and spent a couple of nights there. There was also an outhouse and even a rowboat! Comments in the guest book indicated a lot of people had rowed around the lake. Some had even gone swimming! The place had been quite popular in June, July, and August, but no one else was there now.
Returned to the boat, ate lunch, and left for Smeaton Bay. Just as we were entering the cove where we were planning on spending the night, we saw a black bear walking along the shore. As soon as he saw us, he trotted into the woods.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tuesday, September 1, 1992 - Punchbowl Cove, AK
Motored down the eastern portion of the Behm Canal, enjoying the lovely scenery. Mountains on both sides, some of them snow-capped. Turned into Rudyerd Bay, the misty fjord. Before us loomed a vertical rock wall, 3150 feet high! Awesome!
There are several arms in Rudyerd Bay, and we explored all but one of them. Magnificent scenery everywhere we looked! Towering mountains, plunging waterfalls. And all unspoiled -- no roads, no buildings, no litter. We saw one boat and a seaplane; otherwise, we had the entire place to ourselves.
A lot of dead salmon were floating in the water. Roy had me (ugh!) scoop one up in the fish net. He used it to (ugh!) bait the crab trap. It will be interesting to see what it catches.
Used the "Happy Hooker" Al Snider gave us to attach a line to the mooring buoy in Punchbowl Cove. It worked flawlessly on the first try.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Monday, August 31, 1992 - Fitzgibbon Cove, AK
Got a really good night's sleep. Woke up to a gentle rain. It's so quiet and peaceful here. Except for the lodge, it's total wilderness, just as it was centuries ago. More than ever, we feel as though we're on a lovely lake, high in the mountains. All around us are dense woods and mountain tops lost in clouds. The water is totally calm except for tiny ripples from the raindrops and the splash of leaping fish. No waves, no wind, no surf -- how can this be the ocean?
Had a great time paddling in the rain. The chart showed a tramway going to Lake MacDonald, but all I found were some wooden posts, so old that plants were growing out of them, and a broken, twisted piece of unrecognizable metal.
Saw an incredible number of bald eagles. Most flew away when I approached, but some sat right where they were and looked at me. They were probably guarding their nests.
A big school of fish swam by me so close I probably could have caught one if I'd had a net.
We left Yes Bay around two and went over to the Bell Island Hot Spring Resort. We were thinking of spending the night there and soaking in the hot spring, but when we talked to them on the VHF, they said we couldn't stay overnight, and the pool that's fed by the hot spring is closed, so we kept going through the Behm Narrows. Some porpoises played around the bow, reminding us that yes, we really are on the ocean. Then we rounded Point Whaley and knew we were on the ocean! The wind was suddenly blowing 20 knots and there were whitecaps all over. Fortunately, we were only a couple of miles from Fitzgibbon Cove, so we scooted over there and dropped anchor (two anchors) in relative calm.
Had a great time paddling in the rain. The chart showed a tramway going to Lake MacDonald, but all I found were some wooden posts, so old that plants were growing out of them, and a broken, twisted piece of unrecognizable metal.
Saw an incredible number of bald eagles. Most flew away when I approached, but some sat right where they were and looked at me. They were probably guarding their nests.
A big school of fish swam by me so close I probably could have caught one if I'd had a net.
We left Yes Bay around two and went over to the Bell Island Hot Spring Resort. We were thinking of spending the night there and soaking in the hot spring, but when we talked to them on the VHF, they said we couldn't stay overnight, and the pool that's fed by the hot spring is closed, so we kept going through the Behm Narrows. Some porpoises played around the bow, reminding us that yes, we really are on the ocean. Then we rounded Point Whaley and knew we were on the ocean! The wind was suddenly blowing 20 knots and there were whitecaps all over. Fortunately, we were only a couple of miles from Fitzgibbon Cove, so we scooted over there and dropped anchor (two anchors) in relative calm.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, August 30, 1992 - Yes Bay, AK
Mailed a bunch of postcards and got ready to leave. There were two big fat fishing boats in back of us and another on the other side of the fairway, so there was no way to get out. Fortunately, two guys from the Harbor Master's office came by and moved one of the fishing boats. We swung the Jofian around with lines and departed.
Beautiful clear, sunny day! Stopped at a nice new fuel dock. Filled the tank and all the jerry cans. Also got two gallons of oil.
Headed up the Behm Canal towards Misty Fjords National Monument. Don't be fooled by the word "canal"; this is a completely natural waterway.
We turned into Yes Bay, which is really more of an inlet than a bay. There's a big fishing lodge here, with its own docks and boats. This must be a fisherman's paradise; everywhere we looked, fish were leaping out of the water. I guess they're salmon. They're obviously some kind of salt-water fish.
We went past the lodge and dropped anchor in a secluded area. Put out two anchors and 140 feet of chain. The tidal range here is about twenty feet.
After supper, we started to go paddling, but it was getting dark, so we decided to return to the boat and paddle in the morning.
Beautiful clear, sunny day! Stopped at a nice new fuel dock. Filled the tank and all the jerry cans. Also got two gallons of oil.
Headed up the Behm Canal towards Misty Fjords National Monument. Don't be fooled by the word "canal"; this is a completely natural waterway.
We turned into Yes Bay, which is really more of an inlet than a bay. There's a big fishing lodge here, with its own docks and boats. This must be a fisherman's paradise; everywhere we looked, fish were leaping out of the water. I guess they're salmon. They're obviously some kind of salt-water fish.
We went past the lodge and dropped anchor in a secluded area. Put out two anchors and 140 feet of chain. The tidal range here is about twenty feet.
After supper, we started to go paddling, but it was getting dark, so we decided to return to the boat and paddle in the morning.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Saturday, August 29, 1992 - Ketchikan, AK
Slept late and ate a big breakfast. Sure good to be back on the Jofian.
It rained all day. We put on our rain gear, got out the wagon and a piece of canvas, and pulled the laundry to the laundromat and back. Then we pulled the wagon to the grocery store and back. So now we have clean clothes and plenty of food.
It rained all day. We put on our rain gear, got out the wagon and a piece of canvas, and pulled the laundry to the laundromat and back. Then we pulled the wagon to the grocery store and back. So now we have clean clothes and plenty of food.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Friday, August 28, 1992 - Juneau, AK
Miserable night! We hung around the hostel living room until one a.m. Then we gathered up our gear and walked a block to where the bus would pick us up. The bus arrived on schedule and got us to the ferry terminal at two, but when we bought our tickets, we found out the ferry was 2 1/2 hours late! Expected in at 5! We could have gone to bed at 8 last night and slept until 4 this morning. Of course, Roy can sleep on a clothesline, so he stretched out on the waiting room floor and promptly fell asleep. I slept on a chair for an hour but woke up with a crick in my neck, so I stretched out on three or four chairs, but loud male voices kept talking, bright lights kept shining in my face, doors kept opening and slamming, and the chairs were hard as rocks. I didn't sleep much.
A fishing boat had gone aground in the narrows, and the ferry couldn't get by until the boat was out of the way.
The ferry arrived at five but spent more than half an hour unloading, so it was nearly six by the time we reached the solarium and got into our sleeping bags. Slept most of the day. Got up to eat, take long, hot showers, listen to the ranger presentations, and look at Petersburg and Wrangell from the boat. The ferry was trying to make up time, so it just stopped long enough to unload and load; through passengers weren't allowed ashore. But it was still two hours late when it reached Ketchikan and expected to be an hour late at Prince Rupert.
Arrived in Ketchikan around midnight, hopped in a cab, and headed for the City Docks. Jofian was just as we left her. What a beautiful sight!
A fishing boat had gone aground in the narrows, and the ferry couldn't get by until the boat was out of the way.
The ferry arrived at five but spent more than half an hour unloading, so it was nearly six by the time we reached the solarium and got into our sleeping bags. Slept most of the day. Got up to eat, take long, hot showers, listen to the ranger presentations, and look at Petersburg and Wrangell from the boat. The ferry was trying to make up time, so it just stopped long enough to unload and load; through passengers weren't allowed ashore. But it was still two hours late when it reached Ketchikan and expected to be an hour late at Prince Rupert.
Arrived in Ketchikan around midnight, hopped in a cab, and headed for the City Docks. Jofian was just as we left her. What a beautiful sight!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Thursday, August 27, 1992 - Juneau, AK
Went to the Juneau Museum and got the brochure we should have had two days ago. It explains all the junk we saw at the old Treadwell Mine.
Rode the bus out to the trail on the west side of Mendenhall Glacier. Walked to the end of the trail. Had a fabulous view of the glacier. We thought we'd be able to walk on the glacier itself, but we were way above it.
Returned to Juneau and ate a delicious salmon dinner at the Fiddlehead.
The ferries run at all sorts of weird times. Our ferry back to Ketchikan leaves at -- ugh -- 3:45 a.m. The shuttle bus will pick us up at 1:30, so we're going to sit in the hostel living room until then. As soon as we get on the ferry, we'll stretch out our sleeping bags and sleep.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Wednesday, August 26, 1992 - Juneau, AK
Unfortunately, after Tracy Arm, Glacier Bay was a big letdown. The glaciers have been receding for 200 years and are now more than forty miles from the entrance, so we spent most of our time just getting there and back.
Got up at four a.m. and walked down to the Baranof Hotel, where a bus picked us up at 4:45 and took us to the airport. The plane was supposed to leave at 5:30 but didn't leave until nearly six. The plane was a nine-passenger Piper Chieftain, with an excellent pilot, who set her down so gently we scarcely knew we'd landed.
The flight took about twenty minutes. Then a bus took us over a flat dirt road to the lodge, where we boarded the boat. They have fantastic tides here, sometimes as much as 32 feet, so they have to have very long gangplanks. It was low tide this morning, so the gangplank was at a 30-degree angle. It was also wet and slippery. I did a little dipsy-doodle at the beginning, but no harm done.
The boat had a 400-passenger capacity -- a far cry from the luxury yacht we were on Monday. More importantly, we lacked the sense of intimacy with the glacier that we'd had on the smaller boat.
We went up the Tarr Inlet to the Queen of the Pacific and Margerie glaciers. The Queen was ugly black with dirt, but the Margerie was bluish and had lots of jagged peaks. A few little chunks fell off while we watched. There were some small pieces of ice floating around, but nowhere near as many as at Tracy Arm, and there weren't any seals on them.
A multi-million-dollar U.S. yacht was anchored near Margerie Glacier. Its tender was taking a bunch of people around to look at the glacier close up.
Lunch was crummy. They had about 100 sandwiches left over, which they handed out to anyone who wanted them, so we took some for supper tonight and lunch tomorrow.
The boat stopped a couple of times to let backpackers off at remote areas. The boat went right up to the beach and lowered a ladder.
We saw eagles, whales, sea lions, a couple of bears, and a mountain goat.
Flew back on an Alaska Airlines jet. It went up, and then it came down. We were in Juneau before we had time to think about it.
Had no problem getting beds at the hostel again, even though our three-night limit was up two days ago.
Got up at four a.m. and walked down to the Baranof Hotel, where a bus picked us up at 4:45 and took us to the airport. The plane was supposed to leave at 5:30 but didn't leave until nearly six. The plane was a nine-passenger Piper Chieftain, with an excellent pilot, who set her down so gently we scarcely knew we'd landed.
The flight took about twenty minutes. Then a bus took us over a flat dirt road to the lodge, where we boarded the boat. They have fantastic tides here, sometimes as much as 32 feet, so they have to have very long gangplanks. It was low tide this morning, so the gangplank was at a 30-degree angle. It was also wet and slippery. I did a little dipsy-doodle at the beginning, but no harm done.
The boat had a 400-passenger capacity -- a far cry from the luxury yacht we were on Monday. More importantly, we lacked the sense of intimacy with the glacier that we'd had on the smaller boat.
We went up the Tarr Inlet to the Queen of the Pacific and Margerie glaciers. The Queen was ugly black with dirt, but the Margerie was bluish and had lots of jagged peaks. A few little chunks fell off while we watched. There were some small pieces of ice floating around, but nowhere near as many as at Tracy Arm, and there weren't any seals on them.
A multi-million-dollar U.S. yacht was anchored near Margerie Glacier. Its tender was taking a bunch of people around to look at the glacier close up.
Lunch was crummy. They had about 100 sandwiches left over, which they handed out to anyone who wanted them, so we took some for supper tonight and lunch tomorrow.
The boat stopped a couple of times to let backpackers off at remote areas. The boat went right up to the beach and lowered a ladder.
We saw eagles, whales, sea lions, a couple of bears, and a mountain goat.
Flew back on an Alaska Airlines jet. It went up, and then it came down. We were in Juneau before we had time to think about it.
Had no problem getting beds at the hostel again, even though our three-night limit was up two days ago.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 25, 1992 - Juneau, AK
Went to the State's Office of Vital Statistics. Just getting there was an experience. Went up to the eighth floor of the beautiful new State Office Building. It has a terrific view. Also has an ATM, so I tried my Versatel card again. Again it was rejected, so I phoned Bank of America Customer Service in San Francisco. As I suspected, a block had been put on the card, probably from all my unsuccessful attempts to use it the other night. The clerk released the block. After that, everything worked fine.
When we got to Vital Statistics in the Old State Office Building across the walkway, we found out Thais died June 17, 1987, so we went to the State Library in the new building and looked at the microfiched local paper for that date. They have a neat machine that not only displays and magnifies the microfiche but also prints a copy of whatever page you want. We found the article about Thais on June 18th, but it turned out her tragic accident didn't occur at Mendenhall Glacier; it was at Kenai Glacier, south of Anchorage. We printed the article to take with us.
Ate lunch at McDonald's and then took the bus across the bridge to Douglas Island. Passed a house that had a pet pig on its front lawn. Got off at the end of the line and walked the trails where the old Treadwell goldmine had been from 1880 until it flooded in 1917. (A Canadian company is now trying to buy it and reopen it.) We saw a lot of tumble-down buildings, rusty machinery, and old tracks, but we didn't find a shaft even though we walked all the way up the hill to the end of the trail. On a seldom-accessed trail, we found a tent, sleeping bag, and clothing that appeared to have been there a few weeks or months at the most. It looked as if someone had spent the night there and then gone hiking, fully intending to return but hadn't. Perhaps he'd fallen off a cliff or something. When we got back to Juneau, we phoned the police.
Tomorrow, Glacier Bay!
When we got to Vital Statistics in the Old State Office Building across the walkway, we found out Thais died June 17, 1987, so we went to the State Library in the new building and looked at the microfiched local paper for that date. They have a neat machine that not only displays and magnifies the microfiche but also prints a copy of whatever page you want. We found the article about Thais on June 18th, but it turned out her tragic accident didn't occur at Mendenhall Glacier; it was at Kenai Glacier, south of Anchorage. We printed the article to take with us.
Ate lunch at McDonald's and then took the bus across the bridge to Douglas Island. Passed a house that had a pet pig on its front lawn. Got off at the end of the line and walked the trails where the old Treadwell goldmine had been from 1880 until it flooded in 1917. (A Canadian company is now trying to buy it and reopen it.) We saw a lot of tumble-down buildings, rusty machinery, and old tracks, but we didn't find a shaft even though we walked all the way up the hill to the end of the trail. On a seldom-accessed trail, we found a tent, sleeping bag, and clothing that appeared to have been there a few weeks or months at the most. It looked as if someone had spent the night there and then gone hiking, fully intending to return but hadn't. Perhaps he'd fallen off a cliff or something. When we got back to Juneau, we phoned the police.
Tomorrow, Glacier Bay!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Monday, August 24, 1992 - Juneau, AK
What a great trip to Tracy Arm! There are two boats that go there. One costs $99, and the other $110. We took the latter, and it was well worth the extra $11. We were on a comfortable, fast yacht with a pleasant captain, who let us hang around the bridge. Lunch was included, which it wasn't on the other tour. Best of all, we went right up within 1/8 mile of the glacier! To get there, the boat had to plow through a bunch of floating chunks of ice (small blue icebergs that had fallen off the blue glacier). The water temperature was 32.5 degrees Fahrenheit! Hundreds of little seals were loafing on the ice or swimming in the water. The view was overwhelming! It was the greatest experience yet!
The captain knew all about Swanson Bay. He said they had made brick there. That's the last thing we would have guessed. So our curiosity was finally satisfied.
He also remembered a woman being crushed to death by a falling chunk of glacier four or five years ago at Mendenhall, so when we got back to Juneau, we went to the beautiful new public library and looked at the microfiched local newspaper for the summers of 1987 and 1988 (July through September), but we couldn't find anything about Roy's sister-in-law, Thais, who was crushed by a glacier four or five years ago. We didn't know the exact date.
The captain knew all about Swanson Bay. He said they had made brick there. That's the last thing we would have guessed. So our curiosity was finally satisfied.
He also remembered a woman being crushed to death by a falling chunk of glacier four or five years ago at Mendenhall, so when we got back to Juneau, we went to the beautiful new public library and looked at the microfiched local newspaper for the summers of 1987 and 1988 (July through September), but we couldn't find anything about Roy's sister-in-law, Thais, who was crushed by a glacier four or five years ago. We didn't know the exact date.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Sunday, August 23, 1992 - Juneau, AK
Took the city bus ($1) as close to the Mendenhall Glacier as it goes. Walked the other mile and a half.
The glacier has been receding 30 feet a year, so it's much farther away than it was the last time I was here. They've removed the walkways that used to go out over the glacier; the glacier's no longer there. We hiked up the East Glacier Loop Trail. When we were up about 500 feet, we could look right down on the waterfall and the glacier. Spectacular!
Walked through some beautiful green woods. Moisture seemed to hang in the air. We would have liked to walk farther, but the last bus runs at 5:30 on Sunday, so we had to return. Took a different trail than the one we'd come up. Passed a lot of old tracks, timbers, etc. When we got down to the Visitor Center, we asked a ranger about it. He said that back in the gold-mining days (1880-1944), the mining company had a huge generator up there. The tracks had been used to haul the generator and other machinery up the hill. The waterfall powered the generator, and the electricity went across the Gastineau Channel to the Treadwell Mine on Douglas Island.
We passed a lot of streams full of salmon struggling to reach their spawning grounds, plus the putrid, disintegrating corpses of salmon that had either made it or had died along the way.
When we got back to Juneau, we ate a delicious supper at the Fiddlehead.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Saturday, August 22, 1992 - Juneau, AK
Left Skagway on the 8:45 ferry. Had an hour-and-a-half layover in Haines, so we walked around a little, but didn't see much of anything except abandoned houses and a closed-down army base.
Arrived in Juneau around four. That is, we arrived at the Juneau ferry terminal, which is 13 miles from town. We were going to take the bus in, but Roy heard someone asking, "Are you going to the hostel?" Turned out a young woman who was traveling by herself was going to take a cab to the AYH hostel, and she wanted someone to share the cab with her (and the fare, of course). We immediately volunteered. That turned out to be a wise move. The hostel was packed; if we'd gotten there 15 minutes later, we wouldn't have been able to get in. Since we were near the head of the line, we were allowed to sleep on the living-room floor. The woman we shared the cab with slept on the floor of the upstairs hall.
After signing in and selecting our chores for tomorrow morning, we walked around looking for an ATM, a phone, and a place to eat. Found two ATM's. They accepted two of our cards but rejected the one I most wanted to use.
The public phone system here is weird. First of all, it's difficult to find a public phone, and when we finally did find one, we realized why: They only charge a dime! It's been twenty years since I made a phone call for a dime. Furthermore, you don't deposit the dime until after you've made your call, and there's nothing other than your conscience to force you to deposit it at all. In other words, you can make all the free phone calls you want! I don't see how they stay in business.
Ate supper at a so-so place. The food was tasty, but the service miserable.
Signed up for a tour of Tracy Arm Monday.
Walked around a little. Saw an abandoned, dilapidated gold mine way up on a hill. Tried to explore it, but couldn't find a road to it.
Returned to the hostel. The living room was hot, stuffy, brightly lighted, and full of people reading. Fortunately, at the last minute, the manager said a bed had become available and I could have it! I rushed gratefully upstairs to the women's dorm, which was dark, quiet, and well-ventilated, but poor Roy had to sleep on the living-room floor.
Arrived in Juneau around four. That is, we arrived at the Juneau ferry terminal, which is 13 miles from town. We were going to take the bus in, but Roy heard someone asking, "Are you going to the hostel?" Turned out a young woman who was traveling by herself was going to take a cab to the AYH hostel, and she wanted someone to share the cab with her (and the fare, of course). We immediately volunteered. That turned out to be a wise move. The hostel was packed; if we'd gotten there 15 minutes later, we wouldn't have been able to get in. Since we were near the head of the line, we were allowed to sleep on the living-room floor. The woman we shared the cab with slept on the floor of the upstairs hall.
After signing in and selecting our chores for tomorrow morning, we walked around looking for an ATM, a phone, and a place to eat. Found two ATM's. They accepted two of our cards but rejected the one I most wanted to use.
The public phone system here is weird. First of all, it's difficult to find a public phone, and when we finally did find one, we realized why: They only charge a dime! It's been twenty years since I made a phone call for a dime. Furthermore, you don't deposit the dime until after you've made your call, and there's nothing other than your conscience to force you to deposit it at all. In other words, you can make all the free phone calls you want! I don't see how they stay in business.
Ate supper at a so-so place. The food was tasty, but the service miserable.
Signed up for a tour of Tracy Arm Monday.
Walked around a little. Saw an abandoned, dilapidated gold mine way up on a hill. Tried to explore it, but couldn't find a road to it.
Returned to the hostel. The living room was hot, stuffy, brightly lighted, and full of people reading. Fortunately, at the last minute, the manager said a bed had become available and I could have it! I rushed gratefully upstairs to the women's dorm, which was dark, quiet, and well-ventilated, but poor Roy had to sleep on the living-room floor.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Friday, August 21, 1992 - Skagway, AK
Walked up to Lower Dewey Lake and Icy Lake. Tried to get to Reid Falls, but the trail sort of disappeared and we were running out of time, so we went back to town and ate lunch. Then we headed for the train station.
The ride was great. Went way up to the summit at nearly 3000 feet. Looked down on the raging Skagway River. Saw spectacular waterfalls. Saw part of the old gold rush trail. (The railroad was built right after the gold rush ended.)
When we got back to Skagway, we went to the ferry terminal and bought our tickets for tomorrow morning. Then we strolled out to Yakutania Point and back.
After supper, we walked a mile and a half to the Gold Rush Cemetery. It was dark when we got there, but we were able to find the graves of Soapy Smith and Frank Reid, who shot each other simul-
taneously, July 8, 1898. There were a lot of graves of babies and children who died in the meningitis epidemic of 1898.
A trail in back of the cemetery led to Reid Falls, but it was too dark to go up there, so twice in one day, we missed seeing Reid Falls.
The ride was great. Went way up to the summit at nearly 3000 feet. Looked down on the raging Skagway River. Saw spectacular waterfalls. Saw part of the old gold rush trail. (The railroad was built right after the gold rush ended.)
When we got back to Skagway, we went to the ferry terminal and bought our tickets for tomorrow morning. Then we strolled out to Yakutania Point and back.
After supper, we walked a mile and a half to the Gold Rush Cemetery. It was dark when we got there, but we were able to find the graves of Soapy Smith and Frank Reid, who shot each other simul-
taneously, July 8, 1898. There were a lot of graves of babies and children who died in the meningitis epidemic of 1898.
A trail in back of the cemetery led to Reid Falls, but it was too dark to go up there, so twice in one day, we missed seeing Reid Falls.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Thursday, August 20, 1992 - Skagway, AK
Arrived in Skagway around noon. We had planned on staying at the AYH hostel, but thought we couldn't check in until 5:30, so we were going to put our bags in a locker at the ferry terminal and wander around until then. To our amazement, the woman from the hostel met us at the dock and drove us to the hostel! Never had that happen before. Turned out we can go in and out as much as we like during the day. Most hostels are locked from nine to five or whatever.
After signing up at the hostel for two nights, we walked over to the railroad station and bought tickets to ride the narrow-gauge railroad tomorrow. It follows the old Chilkoot Trail the gold-seekers so laboriously climbed in '97-'98.
Ate lunch and walked around. Skagway is a National Historical Monument. It was a major starting point for the Yukon Gold Rush of 1897. The sidewalks on the main street, Broadway, are made of wood, and many of the buildings are pretty much as they were nearly a century ago. We joined a Ranger walk that had already started. Will try to get in at the beginning tomorrow morning.
Ate a good supper at the hostel for only $5. Then we went to the perennial "Gold Rush" show. Gambled with play money for half an hour; then watched the melodrama. It was great. The performers are real professionals. Very enthusiastic.
After signing up at the hostel for two nights, we walked over to the railroad station and bought tickets to ride the narrow-gauge railroad tomorrow. It follows the old Chilkoot Trail the gold-seekers so laboriously climbed in '97-'98.
Ate lunch and walked around. Skagway is a National Historical Monument. It was a major starting point for the Yukon Gold Rush of 1897. The sidewalks on the main street, Broadway, are made of wood, and many of the buildings are pretty much as they were nearly a century ago. We joined a Ranger walk that had already started. Will try to get in at the beginning tomorrow morning.
Ate a good supper at the hostel for only $5. Then we went to the perennial "Gold Rush" show. Gambled with play money for half an hour; then watched the melodrama. It was great. The performers are real professionals. Very enthusiastic.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Wednesday, August 19, 1992 - Skagway, AK
What a neat ride! The ferry glides along so smoothly, we can scarcely tell we're on the water. But it sure creates a strong wind. And a cold wind!
This morning, a small pod of humpback whales was snoozing near our port bow. The ferry slowed down so we could get a good view of them. They were floating on top of the water, spouting through their blowholes, so we had a great view. They didn't wake up until they felt the vibration of our props. By then, we were within 100 yards of them. They dove and surfaced several times. It was neat watching them throw their flukes up in the air.
In the afternoon, there was a three-hour layover in Sitka, so passengers were permitted to go ashore. The ferry terminal is nine miles from town, so there were a bunch of tour buses and shuttle buses lined up to take us to town. We had been told the tour buses were $8 and the shuttle buses $5, so we were going to take a shuttle bus, but it turned out a new tour bus had just started competing with the old. The guy running it is a real go-getter. He charges $5 for the tour, which includes everything the $8 tour does, and he was making a strong pitch for passengers. We were lucky to get seats; the bus was nearly full. He was quite a character. He kept up a hilarious commentary as he drove.
Sitka turned out to be a really interesting place. Originally, it was inhabited by Tlingit Indians, famous for their craftsmanship, especially their weaving and their totem poles. In the 17 and 18 hundreds, Sitka was settled by Russians seeking otter pelts, which were worth an amazing $1700 apiece! Sitka was also the site of the ceremony turning Alaska over to the U.S. after the famous purchase.
We visited an old Russian church, a lovely park with totem poles, a museum, a beautiful forest of Sitka pine, and a stream full of salmon, another museum, etc. The guide even treated us to free apple cider. It was a terrific afternoon, and we only wished we could have spent more time there.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Tuesday, August 18, 1992 - Skagway, AK
Everything is going perfectly! We have a good place to leave the Jofian, the sun is shining, and the ferry to Skagway doesn't leave until 6:45 tonight, so we have all day to get ready.
Walked two miles to the ferry terminal and bought our tickets. Only $90 all the way to Skagway!
When we got back to the boat, we ate lunch, packed our bags, got the boat ready to leave, and walked around a while. Saw the infamous Creek Street area with its wooden streets and houses from the Gold Rush days.
The couple from the sailboat in back of us came by and chatted with Roy. The man had just lost two fingers trying to tie his boat to a log boom, so he was feeling pretty depressed. Roy greatly improved his morale by telling him about his fingers and being able to earn a good living in spite of their loss.
Got to the ferry plenty early. Glad we did. There's a "solarium" on the stern of the top deck that's protected on three sides plus the roof, but the back is open. There are reclining chairs that can be tilted all the way back to make cots. You spread your sleeping bag on one and sleep all warm and cozy but with plenty of fresh air. This is a popular place to sleep, so by getting there early, we were able to get two recliners in a good location.
After supper in the cafeteria, we attended a talk by the Ranger Naturalist on Wrangell and Petersburg. Then Roy watched a movie on whales, but I went to bed, which I later regretted, as it was a good movie.
Docked at Wrangell around midnight, and we got up to watch the unloading and loading. They have long, very expensive metal gangplanks.
Slept through most of the Wrangell Narrows. At one point, it's only 300 feet wide and 22 feet deep! The ferry can barely make it.
Walked two miles to the ferry terminal and bought our tickets. Only $90 all the way to Skagway!
When we got back to the boat, we ate lunch, packed our bags, got the boat ready to leave, and walked around a while. Saw the infamous Creek Street area with its wooden streets and houses from the Gold Rush days.
The couple from the sailboat in back of us came by and chatted with Roy. The man had just lost two fingers trying to tie his boat to a log boom, so he was feeling pretty depressed. Roy greatly improved his morale by telling him about his fingers and being able to earn a good living in spite of their loss.
Got to the ferry plenty early. Glad we did. There's a "solarium" on the stern of the top deck that's protected on three sides plus the roof, but the back is open. There are reclining chairs that can be tilted all the way back to make cots. You spread your sleeping bag on one and sleep all warm and cozy but with plenty of fresh air. This is a popular place to sleep, so by getting there early, we were able to get two recliners in a good location.
After supper in the cafeteria, we attended a talk by the Ranger Naturalist on Wrangell and Petersburg. Then Roy watched a movie on whales, but I went to bed, which I later regretted, as it was a good movie.
Docked at Wrangell around midnight, and we got up to watch the unloading and loading. They have long, very expensive metal gangplanks.
Slept through most of the Wrangell Narrows. At one point, it's only 300 feet wide and 22 feet deep! The ferry can barely make it.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Monday, August 17, 1992 - Ketchikan, AK
We dood it! We're in Alaska! With the Jofian! And boy, were we lucky! Arrived in Ketchikan about 4:30 and got the next-to-last dock space!
The moorage fees are incredibly cheap. We got an entire month for only $91.35! That's a third what we paid in Richmond. It was cheaper to pay for a month than for two weeks by the day. And now we don't have to worry if we're a day or two late.
Ketchikan is a lot larger and busier than I remembered it from my visit fifteen or so years ago. There are a lot more roads. And the sun is actually shining! It rained all the time I was here before.
The moorage fees are incredibly cheap. We got an entire month for only $91.35! That's a third what we paid in Richmond. It was cheaper to pay for a month than for two weeks by the day. And now we don't have to worry if we're a day or two late.
Ketchikan is a lot larger and busier than I remembered it from my visit fifteen or so years ago. There are a lot more roads. And the sun is actually shining! It rained all the time I was here before.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Sunday, August 16, 1992 - Dundas Island, BC
Another totally calm day. We've sure been lucky with the weather. It's cool and cloudy today, but no rain.
Anchored in peaceful, lovely, nearly deserted Brundidge Inlet of Dundas Island around 4:30. This is the northernmost anchorage of western Canada. We can see the mountains of Alaska in the distance.
Paddled around for two or three hours without seeing any sign of human habitation. The trees are very dense and grow nearly to the edge of the water. No roads, no trails, no houses, no signs--just uncorrupted nature in all her profligate splendor. The air is sweet and fresh and redolent of evergreen trees. The tide goes in and out very rapidly, and the difference between high tide and low tide is remarkable. We anchored in 31 feet of water, and by the time we ate supper, we were in 13 feet! Now that's a tide!
Roy put out the crab trap, but when he pulled it up, all it had in it (or rather, on it) was an enormous starfish. I'd never seen such a huge starfish; it must have been two feet in diameter.
Tomorrow, Alaska!
Anchored in peaceful, lovely, nearly deserted Brundidge Inlet of Dundas Island around 4:30. This is the northernmost anchorage of western Canada. We can see the mountains of Alaska in the distance.
Paddled around for two or three hours without seeing any sign of human habitation. The trees are very dense and grow nearly to the edge of the water. No roads, no trails, no houses, no signs--just uncorrupted nature in all her profligate splendor. The air is sweet and fresh and redolent of evergreen trees. The tide goes in and out very rapidly, and the difference between high tide and low tide is remarkable. We anchored in 31 feet of water, and by the time we ate supper, we were in 13 feet! Now that's a tide!
Roy put out the crab trap, but when he pulled it up, all it had in it (or rather, on it) was an enormous starfish. I'd never seen such a huge starfish; it must have been two feet in diameter.
Tomorrow, Alaska!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Saturday, August 15, 1992 - Prince Rupert, BC
Well, we're back in civilization. Arrived in Prince Rupert at two o'clock on a very calm day. Back to radio, television, super markets, drugstores, dime stores, walk lights, etc. We had hoped to get free moorage at the Prince Rupert Yacht Club, but they wanted $25, so we went to the public marina for $15.66.
It's remarkably deep here (nearly 200 feet at the dock), and there's a strong current. When Roy was bringing the boat up to the dock, the current caught her and nearly carried her into another boat, so he had to run her into the dock to avoid a collision. I jumped onto the dock with the bow line and pulled her forward, so we got tied up with no more serious damage than scratched paint.
Walked over to the public library to see if we could find some information about Swanson Bay, but there was nothing. We'll check at UBC (University of British Columbia) when we get back to Vancouver.
Very hungry by then, so we went to the main part of town and ate chow mein for lunch. Strolled around for a while. Found an outdoor vegetable stand that had corn twelve ears for $1! Cheapest I've seen corn in years. Bought four ears for 33 cents. We'd have liked to have bought more, but we'll be crossing the border in a day or two. They won't let you take fresh vegetables and fruit into the U.S.
Went to Safeway and bought a few groceries. Stopped at the Visitor Information Center to see if they knew anything about Swanson Bay. They didn't, but the young girl at the counter was very nice. She said she'd try to find out something and write to us.
It was starting to sprinkle, so we returned to the boat. Roy changed the oil, and I sorted the Alaska charts and fixed supper.
According to our travel guides, Prince Rupert is a "beautiful" town, but it just looks like an ordinary, run-of-the-mill town to us.
Roy's cold is finally starting to get better. He still coughs occasionally, but nothing compared with a couple of weeks ago.
It's remarkably deep here (nearly 200 feet at the dock), and there's a strong current. When Roy was bringing the boat up to the dock, the current caught her and nearly carried her into another boat, so he had to run her into the dock to avoid a collision. I jumped onto the dock with the bow line and pulled her forward, so we got tied up with no more serious damage than scratched paint.
Walked over to the public library to see if we could find some information about Swanson Bay, but there was nothing. We'll check at UBC (University of British Columbia) when we get back to Vancouver.
Very hungry by then, so we went to the main part of town and ate chow mein for lunch. Strolled around for a while. Found an outdoor vegetable stand that had corn twelve ears for $1! Cheapest I've seen corn in years. Bought four ears for 33 cents. We'd have liked to have bought more, but we'll be crossing the border in a day or two. They won't let you take fresh vegetables and fruit into the U.S.
Went to Safeway and bought a few groceries. Stopped at the Visitor Information Center to see if they knew anything about Swanson Bay. They didn't, but the young girl at the counter was very nice. She said she'd try to find out something and write to us.
It was starting to sprinkle, so we returned to the boat. Roy changed the oil, and I sorted the Alaska charts and fixed supper.
According to our travel guides, Prince Rupert is a "beautiful" town, but it just looks like an ordinary, run-of-the-mill town to us.
Roy's cold is finally starting to get better. He still coughs occasionally, but nothing compared with a couple of weeks ago.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Friday, August 14, 1992 - BC
It's a good thing we got up early; the anchor had dragged and the boat was nearly against the pilings. Worse, she was approaching submerged rocks. But a miss is as good as a mile, and we soon had her straightened out and under way.
Made really good time today. Covered nearly 70 miles in a little over twelve hours.
We still feel as if we're on a beautiful lake, high in the mountains. It's impossible to believe we're actually at sea level.
We're going down the Grenville Channel. The mountains here are very high and steep on both sides of the channel. Some are solid rock. Many are snow-capped. Saw a waterfall that tumbled half a mile down the side of a mountain.
A freighter from Greece or some such place passed us heading south. We were surprised to see a big freighter on this channel. On the chart, the channel is just a skinny little strip, but it's actually nearly a mile wide and hundreds of feet deep.
Anchored for the night in a tiny cove behind a small island. Peace, quiet, privacy, and beauty.
Made really good time today. Covered nearly 70 miles in a little over twelve hours.
We still feel as if we're on a beautiful lake, high in the mountains. It's impossible to believe we're actually at sea level.
We're going down the Grenville Channel. The mountains here are very high and steep on both sides of the channel. Some are solid rock. Many are snow-capped. Saw a waterfall that tumbled half a mile down the side of a mountain.
A freighter from Greece or some such place passed us heading south. We were surprised to see a big freighter on this channel. On the chart, the channel is just a skinny little strip, but it's actually nearly a mile wide and hundreds of feet deep.
Anchored for the night in a tiny cove behind a small island. Peace, quiet, privacy, and beauty.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Thursday, August 13, 1992 - Butedale, BC
Our canine friends came down to see us off, but they stayed at the top of the gangplank. The Jofian pulled away from the dock, and I began bringing in the fenders. When I pulled the string of the flat fender, it came untied and pulled through the holes. The fender floated in the water, but I couldn't reach it, so I got the boathook down, but by then the boat was too far from the fender, so I told Roy, and he circled back to the dock, but the fender had floated away from the dock and was behind some logs, so I got in my Royak, paddled after the fender, and rescued it. After fender, Royak, and I were back on the boat, I pulled up the ladder and fastened the clasp that connects the lifeline to the stanchion with my bare hands--first time I've ever been able to do that. I must be getting stronger.
This is the ideal way to travel, gliding slowly along on placid waters, gazing at lovely, tree-covered mountains on both sides. We see so much more than cruise ship passengers do, and we can go wherever we want to, and stop whenever we want to. We're having the time of our lives!
Speaking of cruise ships, we've seen a surprising number in the past couple of days.
We've discovered that our navigation instruments (GPS, Loran, and Satnav) lose their minds every 300 miles and have to be told where they are.
Without good charts, a person would get hopelessly lost up here; there are so many inlets and channels and passages, twisting in every direction, and endless miles of uninhabited, roadless, wooded islands. It's a real maze. A person could spend a lifetime exploring and still not see it all.
We had planned on going to Lowe Inlet today, but we got side-tracked at Swanson Bay. The chart said "abandoned" and that there were a bronze benchmark and a 125-foot chimney there. That aroused our curiosity, so we went into the small bay. Sure enough, we could see a red brick smokestack through the trees. We could also see the pilings of a ruined wharf and a glimpse of a concrete building, so we dropped anchor and hopped in our Royaks to go exploring.
First, we paddled along the shore and found the mouth of a stream where there were rapids. We heard a loud roaring and figured there was a waterfall farther upstream, but we couldn't see it. Through the trees, we caught a glimpse of a second concrete building, even taller than the first. It looked about five or six storeys high. We went back to the ruined wharf, pulled our Royaks up on the beach, and tied them to pilings. Then we began making our way through the woods. The
undergrowth was so thick, I didn't think it was possible for any human being to get through it without a machete, but Roy kept going and I followed. We reached the first building. Just the walls were standing, but it still contained a huge evaporator. We plowed through some more jungle and found a trail! It led to the brick smokestack. There were big chunks of cement walls nearby and a lot of bricks. The other end of the trail led to another little beach. We could have brought our Royaks in there and not had to claw our way through the jungle.
The tide was coming in fast. By the time we got back to our Royaks, they were floating in the water, and even the piling I had tied mine to was several feet from the shore.
We wanted to see the second building, which was on the far side of the smokestack, so we paddled to the beach near the trail and carried our Royaks up above the high-water mark. The trail ended at the smokestack, so we had to do some more clawing through the jungle, but it was worth it. The second building contained two enormous rotating furnaces, lined with firebrick. They had apparently once been vertical but had toppled.
This entire project had required a huge investment of capital and effort. Clearing the forest, bringing in bargeloads of cement and machinery and other supplies and equipment, housing the workers--it had been a tremendous undertaking. We figured they must have been processing some kind of ore, but we couldn't figure out what. When we get to Prince Rupert, we'll go to the library and try to learn the history of Swanson Bay.
We pushed on up the hill and found the waterfall. And what a waterfall! A tremendous volume of water was dropping 100 feet or more. The roar was stentorian. We felt privileged; few people have seen it.
When we got back to our Royaks, we paddled along the shore looking for the benchmark, but couldn't find it.
By the time we got underway again, it was four o'clock, so we decided to spend the night at Butedale, another ghost town. It was supposed to have a spectacular waterfall, but it was nothing compared with the one at Swanson Bay.
There had been a big fish cannery at Butedale, but it had been abandoned years ago. From a distance, the buildings still looked sturdy, but up close, you can easily see they're falling apart.
The bay is surprisingly deep. We had a hard time finding a place to anchor. We finally anchored in 80 feet of water and tied the 200 foot floating line to one of the pilings.
We paddled ashore to explore, but it was more difficult than it looked to climb from the rocky beach to the buildings. I'd have given up, but Roy kept urging me on, and eventually we reached a couple of buildings. Huge, expensive machinery was still in place, the parts bins were full of parts, expensive electrical equipment was lying around--another big investment gone to waste.
It was too late in the day to do much exploring, so we scurried back to the boat before dark.
This is the ideal way to travel, gliding slowly along on placid waters, gazing at lovely, tree-covered mountains on both sides. We see so much more than cruise ship passengers do, and we can go wherever we want to, and stop whenever we want to. We're having the time of our lives!
Speaking of cruise ships, we've seen a surprising number in the past couple of days.
We've discovered that our navigation instruments (GPS, Loran, and Satnav) lose their minds every 300 miles and have to be told where they are.
Without good charts, a person would get hopelessly lost up here; there are so many inlets and channels and passages, twisting in every direction, and endless miles of uninhabited, roadless, wooded islands. It's a real maze. A person could spend a lifetime exploring and still not see it all.
We had planned on going to Lowe Inlet today, but we got side-tracked at Swanson Bay. The chart said "abandoned" and that there were a bronze benchmark and a 125-foot chimney there. That aroused our curiosity, so we went into the small bay. Sure enough, we could see a red brick smokestack through the trees. We could also see the pilings of a ruined wharf and a glimpse of a concrete building, so we dropped anchor and hopped in our Royaks to go exploring.
First, we paddled along the shore and found the mouth of a stream where there were rapids. We heard a loud roaring and figured there was a waterfall farther upstream, but we couldn't see it. Through the trees, we caught a glimpse of a second concrete building, even taller than the first. It looked about five or six storeys high. We went back to the ruined wharf, pulled our Royaks up on the beach, and tied them to pilings. Then we began making our way through the woods. The
undergrowth was so thick, I didn't think it was possible for any human being to get through it without a machete, but Roy kept going and I followed. We reached the first building. Just the walls were standing, but it still contained a huge evaporator. We plowed through some more jungle and found a trail! It led to the brick smokestack. There were big chunks of cement walls nearby and a lot of bricks. The other end of the trail led to another little beach. We could have brought our Royaks in there and not had to claw our way through the jungle.
The tide was coming in fast. By the time we got back to our Royaks, they were floating in the water, and even the piling I had tied mine to was several feet from the shore.
We wanted to see the second building, which was on the far side of the smokestack, so we paddled to the beach near the trail and carried our Royaks up above the high-water mark. The trail ended at the smokestack, so we had to do some more clawing through the jungle, but it was worth it. The second building contained two enormous rotating furnaces, lined with firebrick. They had apparently once been vertical but had toppled.
This entire project had required a huge investment of capital and effort. Clearing the forest, bringing in bargeloads of cement and machinery and other supplies and equipment, housing the workers--it had been a tremendous undertaking. We figured they must have been processing some kind of ore, but we couldn't figure out what. When we get to Prince Rupert, we'll go to the library and try to learn the history of Swanson Bay.
We pushed on up the hill and found the waterfall. And what a waterfall! A tremendous volume of water was dropping 100 feet or more. The roar was stentorian. We felt privileged; few people have seen it.
When we got back to our Royaks, we paddled along the shore looking for the benchmark, but couldn't find it.
By the time we got underway again, it was four o'clock, so we decided to spend the night at Butedale, another ghost town. It was supposed to have a spectacular waterfall, but it was nothing compared with the one at Swanson Bay.
There had been a big fish cannery at Butedale, but it had been abandoned years ago. From a distance, the buildings still looked sturdy, but up close, you can easily see they're falling apart.
The bay is surprisingly deep. We had a hard time finding a place to anchor. We finally anchored in 80 feet of water and tied the 200 foot floating line to one of the pilings.
We paddled ashore to explore, but it was more difficult than it looked to climb from the rocky beach to the buildings. I'd have given up, but Roy kept urging me on, and eventually we reached a couple of buildings. Huge, expensive machinery was still in place, the parts bins were full of parts, expensive electrical equipment was lying around--another big investment gone to waste.
It was too late in the day to do much exploring, so we scurried back to the boat before dark.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Wednesday, August 12, 1992 - Klemtu, BC
Woke up in paradise. So still, peaceful, beautiful. The only sounds were the ones we made ourselves.
Left at the crack of dawn and ate breakfast en route. We had planned on going to Bella Bella today, but we made such good time that it wasn't even two o'clock when we got there, so we kept going. Had one close call early in the morning when we nearly hit an uncharted, submerged rock, but other than that, it was a very pleasant day. Even had a good sailing wind when we were in Milbanke Sound, which opens to the Pacific. Turned off the engine and zoomed along at 6 1/2 knots for about two hours.
The Indian village of Klemtu lies behind five-mile-long Cone Island. Klemtu Passage is indescribably beautiful, with steep wooded hills rising on both sides. We arrived at the village a little after eight, but it was still daylight. We had planned on tying to the Government dock, but there was no room, so we went to a dilapidated dock where there was a hand-painted sign saying, "Notice - Village Float - Use at your own risk - Band Council." The float was broken, tilted at crazy angles, and some boards were missing, but what was left was sturdy and serviceable, so we tied up there. This time, I threw the grappling anchor over the dock on the first try.
Klemtu is somewhat reminiscent of the villages in Mexico. The dirt roads wander in every direction but straight. However, there are street lights and fire hydrants, and most of the houses are well-built. The most interesting feature is a wooden road/sidewalk that runs along the water for about half a mile, connecting the fishing wharves with the main part of the village. While we were walking along it, two big, friendly dogs came out of their yards and accompanied us.
We were looking for a restaurant but weren't surprised when we didn't find one. Went into the tiny, crowded store and bought a few groceries. The people here are pleasant, and the children are full of fun and laughter. One little boy got a big kick out of pretending to be hurt when I closed the refrigerator door. He let out a yelp and grabbed his elbow, but when I expressed concern, he began laughing hilariously. Everyone in the store joined in.
We had just gotten back to our ramshackle dock when a very loud siren sounded. Apparently, it was the ten o'clock curfew. Moments later, the wake from a passing boat hit the floats in a series of waves that sent the floats leaping up and down, back and forth, every which way. Roy was on one float, and I was on another, our legs spread apart trying to keep our balance, wondering if the crazy old floats would fall apart. Water sloshed over the float I was on, soaking my shoes and pants legs. Somehow, we managed to remain upright, the floats held together, and in due course, calm returned.
Left at the crack of dawn and ate breakfast en route. We had planned on going to Bella Bella today, but we made such good time that it wasn't even two o'clock when we got there, so we kept going. Had one close call early in the morning when we nearly hit an uncharted, submerged rock, but other than that, it was a very pleasant day. Even had a good sailing wind when we were in Milbanke Sound, which opens to the Pacific. Turned off the engine and zoomed along at 6 1/2 knots for about two hours.
The Indian village of Klemtu lies behind five-mile-long Cone Island. Klemtu Passage is indescribably beautiful, with steep wooded hills rising on both sides. We arrived at the village a little after eight, but it was still daylight. We had planned on tying to the Government dock, but there was no room, so we went to a dilapidated dock where there was a hand-painted sign saying, "Notice - Village Float - Use at your own risk - Band Council." The float was broken, tilted at crazy angles, and some boards were missing, but what was left was sturdy and serviceable, so we tied up there. This time, I threw the grappling anchor over the dock on the first try.
Klemtu is somewhat reminiscent of the villages in Mexico. The dirt roads wander in every direction but straight. However, there are street lights and fire hydrants, and most of the houses are well-built. The most interesting feature is a wooden road/sidewalk that runs along the water for about half a mile, connecting the fishing wharves with the main part of the village. While we were walking along it, two big, friendly dogs came out of their yards and accompanied us.
We were looking for a restaurant but weren't surprised when we didn't find one. Went into the tiny, crowded store and bought a few groceries. The people here are pleasant, and the children are full of fun and laughter. One little boy got a big kick out of pretending to be hurt when I closed the refrigerator door. He let out a yelp and grabbed his elbow, but when I expressed concern, he began laughing hilariously. Everyone in the store joined in.
We had just gotten back to our ramshackle dock when a very loud siren sounded. Apparently, it was the ten o'clock curfew. Moments later, the wake from a passing boat hit the floats in a series of waves that sent the floats leaping up and down, back and forth, every which way. Roy was on one float, and I was on another, our legs spread apart trying to keep our balance, wondering if the crazy old floats would fall apart. Water sloshed over the float I was on, soaking my shoes and pants legs. Somehow, we managed to remain upright, the floats held together, and in due course, calm returned.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Tuesday, August 11, 1992 - Pruth Bay, BC
An absolutely glorious day! Blue sky, warm sun, calm water--a perfect day for crossing the dreaded Queen Charlotte Sound, which is the longest stretch of unprotected water between Vancouver and Skagway.
We left Port Hardy at the first crack of dawn, while there was still enough water for us to get out. Glided along on glassy water, dodging fishing boats, nets, and logs. Crossing the sound was like crossing a lake--no waves and just a light breeze.
Roy raised all three sails and turned off the engine. Immediately, we became aware of a strange sound, like water rushing into the boat. We looked at each other in surprise and fear. But after a few seconds, we realized we had simply forgotten to turn off the defroster fans.
As soon as we got behind Calvert Island, we lost the wind and had to revert to using the engine.
We turned down Kwakshua Channel and anchored in Pruth Bay. Surely, this must be one of the loveliest places on the face of the earth! It's so still and peaceful. Dense woods grow right down to the high rocks that edge the water. The water is like a mirror, reflecting the trees around it and the boats on it. There is no trash in the water, and the air is clean and sweet.
We paddled to a little beach and walked along a trail through the woods. The weird face of a demon was carved into a living tree. It had a long, curving, pointed nose, tusklike teeth, and bulging eyes. We have no idea who carved it, when, or why, but the carver was certainly an artist with a vivid imagination as well as a skilled craftsman.
After about a mile, we emerged onto a lovely, curving beach. The sand was so fine, it was almost powdery. The cove was full of rocks; it would be a great place for scuba diving.
Met a couple from near Seattle. They have an 80-foot yacht that used to be a survey boat. When they were in Ketchikan a couple of weeks ago, they went aground on a submerged rock. The boat tilted fifty degrees! Spilled hundreds of gallons of fuel from their
4500-gallon tank all over the interior. Drowned the electrical panel. Gashed a hole in the hull. It took a week to repair the damage.
When we were paddling back to the boat, I heard a "whup, whup" and looked around. There was an eagle, flying very low! Had a small animal in his talons. He alighted on a rock, and I quietly paddled to within thirty feet of him before he flew away. Closest I've ever been to an eagle in the wilds.
We left Port Hardy at the first crack of dawn, while there was still enough water for us to get out. Glided along on glassy water, dodging fishing boats, nets, and logs. Crossing the sound was like crossing a lake--no waves and just a light breeze.
Roy raised all three sails and turned off the engine. Immediately, we became aware of a strange sound, like water rushing into the boat. We looked at each other in surprise and fear. But after a few seconds, we realized we had simply forgotten to turn off the defroster fans.
As soon as we got behind Calvert Island, we lost the wind and had to revert to using the engine.
We turned down Kwakshua Channel and anchored in Pruth Bay. Surely, this must be one of the loveliest places on the face of the earth! It's so still and peaceful. Dense woods grow right down to the high rocks that edge the water. The water is like a mirror, reflecting the trees around it and the boats on it. There is no trash in the water, and the air is clean and sweet.
We paddled to a little beach and walked along a trail through the woods. The weird face of a demon was carved into a living tree. It had a long, curving, pointed nose, tusklike teeth, and bulging eyes. We have no idea who carved it, when, or why, but the carver was certainly an artist with a vivid imagination as well as a skilled craftsman.
After about a mile, we emerged onto a lovely, curving beach. The sand was so fine, it was almost powdery. The cove was full of rocks; it would be a great place for scuba diving.
Met a couple from near Seattle. They have an 80-foot yacht that used to be a survey boat. When they were in Ketchikan a couple of weeks ago, they went aground on a submerged rock. The boat tilted fifty degrees! Spilled hundreds of gallons of fuel from their
4500-gallon tank all over the interior. Drowned the electrical panel. Gashed a hole in the hull. It took a week to repair the damage.
When we were paddling back to the boat, I heard a "whup, whup" and looked around. There was an eagle, flying very low! Had a small animal in his talons. He alighted on a rock, and I quietly paddled to within thirty feet of him before he flew away. Closest I've ever been to an eagle in the wilds.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Monday, August 10, 1992 - Hardy Bay, BC
With bated breath, Roy pulled up the crabnet first thing this morning. It contained a lot of seaweed, one teensy weensy crab that immediately jumped back into the water, and the plastic bag. Inside the bag, the bones had been picked completely clean; there wasn't the slightest morsel of fish on any of them! So much for our crab feast.
That was an appropriate start for what turned out to be a rather weird day.
The rain had stopped, the clouds parted, the water was smooth as glass, the sun was warm. We made excellent time and entered Hardy Bay a little after two. But we violated one of our cardinal rules: never enter a harbor without a good chart. All we had was a small-scale chart of the overall area and the sketch in "Charlie's Charts", but it was a clear, calm day and an open bay with few (we thought) hazards, so we took a chance. We knew there was a shoal near the upper end of the bay, marked by (we thought) two buoys. We felt so confident when we entered the bay that Roy had me pretend a floating log was him overboard. I was supposed to take the boat next to the log and stop. I made two passes, came close to the log and slowed down both times, but slamming on the brakes was another matter. The poor guy died of hypothermia before I could rescue him.
We saw the two buoys ahead. According to the sketch in "Charlie's Charts", we were to turn right after passing the second buoy, so that's what we started to do. (Roy was at the wheel by then, thank goodness.) The way ahead didn't look right. Fortunately, Roy glanced to the left and saw two more buoys! It turned out the shoal was marked by half a dozen buoys, and we were going between two of them, headed straight towards the shoal! We were in only 18 feet of water. Roy swung the boat to port real fast and got us back where we belonged.
We are now in a time crunch. There are only three weeks left of August, and we're still 540 crow-flying miles from Skagway. During the past three weeks, we came 520 miles through the water, but in terms of latitude changes, we only came 300 miles. We have to be on our way home by the end of August or risk getting caught in storms, so we decided the sensible thing to do was to leave Jofian at a marina in Port Hardy and take the ferry to Alaska. We could get to Skagway in a week on the ferry, spend a week sightseeing, and be back in Port Hardy by the end of August.
I radioed Quarterdeck Marina to see if they had a slip for us. They assigned us a slip for tonight but said they could only rent on a day-to-day basis; they couldn't assign us a slip for three weeks, so there went that plan. They told us to tie to "D" dock behind a white powerboat with blue curtains.
We eased slowly into the marina, saw "D" dock, and headed towards it, but it turned out there are two "D" docks here and we were headed towards the wrong one. So Roy had to hang a Uie. We could see a white, blue-curtained powerboat at what seemed to be the correct "D" dock, but we couldn't see a space behind it, and there didn't appear to be much space to maneuver in, so Roy decided to anchor outside the marina and Royak in to check out the situation. We saw three or four other boats anchored on the far side of the log boom, so we went over there and anchored in a mere seven feet of water.
Just as Roy was leaving, a guy in a dinghy came by and warned us the tide was going out and we'd soon be high and dry. Roy told him he'd be back in ten minutes to move the boat. Then Roy took off. So there I sat, all alone on Jofian, watching the minutes tick by and the depth drop. When Roy had been gone half an hour, we were in six feet of water, and I knew I should start the engine, raise the anchor, and move Jofian to deeper water. (Our draft is 5 1/2 feet.) But would Roy be angry if I moved the boat without his permission? Should I or shouldn't I? Yes, no. No, yes. While I vacillated, the tide continued its inexorable lowering. At 5.7 feet, I knew it was now or never, but just as I resolved to move the boat, I spotted Roy in the distance, so I waited for him. That was a major mistake. By the time Roy reached the boat, it was too late. He gunned the engine for all it was worth, but Jofian was fast in the mud. I had blown my golden opportunity to play the heroine and rescue Jofian from humiliation.
While we were eating lunch, the boat began listing to port. We decided we might as well take the laundry in in our Royaks, since it would be several hours before the tide turned and rose sufficiently to float the Jofian.
By the time we bagged the dirty clothes and got our Royaks in the water, Jofian was tilted 25 degrees to port and walking or even standing was a challenge. Roy took advantage of the unusual situation to scrub the exposed hull. He also took some interesting photographs.
Carried the laundry to the laundromat and strolled around a few blocks while it was washing and drying. This seems like a very nice little town.
The dryer with the towels and what-not in it didn't heat up; when I opened the door, everything was damp, so I transferred the stuff to another dryer and tried again. This time, it dried in a hurry. The attendant came in just as I was about to leave. When I told him what had happened, he refunded my $1.25 without hesitation.
It was ten o'clock when we got back to the Jofian, and her decks were again horizontal, so we moved to deep water and tied to the log boom.
That was an appropriate start for what turned out to be a rather weird day.
The rain had stopped, the clouds parted, the water was smooth as glass, the sun was warm. We made excellent time and entered Hardy Bay a little after two. But we violated one of our cardinal rules: never enter a harbor without a good chart. All we had was a small-scale chart of the overall area and the sketch in "Charlie's Charts", but it was a clear, calm day and an open bay with few (we thought) hazards, so we took a chance. We knew there was a shoal near the upper end of the bay, marked by (we thought) two buoys. We felt so confident when we entered the bay that Roy had me pretend a floating log was him overboard. I was supposed to take the boat next to the log and stop. I made two passes, came close to the log and slowed down both times, but slamming on the brakes was another matter. The poor guy died of hypothermia before I could rescue him.
We saw the two buoys ahead. According to the sketch in "Charlie's Charts", we were to turn right after passing the second buoy, so that's what we started to do. (Roy was at the wheel by then, thank goodness.) The way ahead didn't look right. Fortunately, Roy glanced to the left and saw two more buoys! It turned out the shoal was marked by half a dozen buoys, and we were going between two of them, headed straight towards the shoal! We were in only 18 feet of water. Roy swung the boat to port real fast and got us back where we belonged.
We are now in a time crunch. There are only three weeks left of August, and we're still 540 crow-flying miles from Skagway. During the past three weeks, we came 520 miles through the water, but in terms of latitude changes, we only came 300 miles. We have to be on our way home by the end of August or risk getting caught in storms, so we decided the sensible thing to do was to leave Jofian at a marina in Port Hardy and take the ferry to Alaska. We could get to Skagway in a week on the ferry, spend a week sightseeing, and be back in Port Hardy by the end of August.
I radioed Quarterdeck Marina to see if they had a slip for us. They assigned us a slip for tonight but said they could only rent on a day-to-day basis; they couldn't assign us a slip for three weeks, so there went that plan. They told us to tie to "D" dock behind a white powerboat with blue curtains.
We eased slowly into the marina, saw "D" dock, and headed towards it, but it turned out there are two "D" docks here and we were headed towards the wrong one. So Roy had to hang a Uie. We could see a white, blue-curtained powerboat at what seemed to be the correct "D" dock, but we couldn't see a space behind it, and there didn't appear to be much space to maneuver in, so Roy decided to anchor outside the marina and Royak in to check out the situation. We saw three or four other boats anchored on the far side of the log boom, so we went over there and anchored in a mere seven feet of water.
Just as Roy was leaving, a guy in a dinghy came by and warned us the tide was going out and we'd soon be high and dry. Roy told him he'd be back in ten minutes to move the boat. Then Roy took off. So there I sat, all alone on Jofian, watching the minutes tick by and the depth drop. When Roy had been gone half an hour, we were in six feet of water, and I knew I should start the engine, raise the anchor, and move Jofian to deeper water. (Our draft is 5 1/2 feet.) But would Roy be angry if I moved the boat without his permission? Should I or shouldn't I? Yes, no. No, yes. While I vacillated, the tide continued its inexorable lowering. At 5.7 feet, I knew it was now or never, but just as I resolved to move the boat, I spotted Roy in the distance, so I waited for him. That was a major mistake. By the time Roy reached the boat, it was too late. He gunned the engine for all it was worth, but Jofian was fast in the mud. I had blown my golden opportunity to play the heroine and rescue Jofian from humiliation.
While we were eating lunch, the boat began listing to port. We decided we might as well take the laundry in in our Royaks, since it would be several hours before the tide turned and rose sufficiently to float the Jofian.
By the time we bagged the dirty clothes and got our Royaks in the water, Jofian was tilted 25 degrees to port and walking or even standing was a challenge. Roy took advantage of the unusual situation to scrub the exposed hull. He also took some interesting photographs.
Carried the laundry to the laundromat and strolled around a few blocks while it was washing and drying. This seems like a very nice little town.
The dryer with the towels and what-not in it didn't heat up; when I opened the door, everything was damp, so I transferred the stuff to another dryer and tried again. This time, it dried in a hurry. The attendant came in just as I was about to leave. When I told him what had happened, he refunded my $1.25 without hesitation.
It was ten o'clock when we got back to the Jofian, and her decks were again horizontal, so we moved to deep water and tied to the log boom.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Sunday, August 9, 1992 - Port McNeill, BC
Another cold, wet day. Put on my longjohns today.
Motorsailed all day through this incredible mountain lake (so it seems). Anchored for the night at Port McNeill. Enjoyed a delicious salmon supper.
Roy bought a crabnet a few days ago but hadn't used it. Tonight, he put the skin and other scraps of the salmon in a plastic bag, punched a few holes in the bag, put it in the crabnet, and lowered the net on a long line. Maybe tomorrow we'll be feasting on fresh crab.
Motorsailed all day through this incredible mountain lake (so it seems). Anchored for the night at Port McNeill. Enjoyed a delicious salmon supper.
Roy bought a crabnet a few days ago but hadn't used it. Tonight, he put the skin and other scraps of the salmon in a plastic bag, punched a few holes in the bag, put it in the crabnet, and lowered the net on a long line. Maybe tomorrow we'll be feasting on fresh crab.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Saturday, August 8, 1992 - Kelsey Bay, BC
Today's the exciting day! We're going to try to go through Seymour Narrows!
Seymour Narrows connects the Strait of Georgia with Johnstone Strait. It's only eight-tenths of a mile wide, so the tide rushes through at a tremendous rate, sometimes as fast as 15 knots! (A knot is 6076 feet an hour.) Today, it will max at 7.5 knots. Since our top hull speed is 6.5 knots, we obviously can't buck that kind of tidal current. We have to go through the narrows at slack, and since we're heading north, we want slack turning to ebb, so the ebb tide will carry us speedily along in Johnstone Strait. The slack turning to ebb occurs at 3:10 this afternoon. We're currently approaching Discovery Passage, so we'll hole up some place until it's time to make the dash for Seymour Narrows.
We made it! In fact, it turned out to be a piece of cake. We were almost disappointed; we'd been looking forward to some excite-
ment. Oh, there were some eddies and rips, but nothing compared with the entrance to San Juan Channel. We didn't even hole up; we were outside the narrows at two o'clock, and the water looked so calm that Roy decided to make a run for it. We waltzed right through, no problem.
The scenery continues to be overwhelmingly beautiful. Saw four Orca whales playing in the water. Sometimes they came up so far, we could see almost their entire bodies. Lots of good views of their flukes.
The tidal current pushed us along at a good pace. We covered nearly 70 miles today! Arrived at Kelsey Bay around 8 o'clock.
Had our first scare just when we thought we were safely at the end of our day's journey. A fishing boat backed away from the dock just as we were approaching. they almost backed right into us. Roy blasted the horn, and they slowed down, giving Roy time to get by and turn around.
Tied to a government dock at Kelsey Bay. It's free! We didn't even pay for the electricity!
Roy bought two pounds of live prawns from a fishing boat. Then we walked a mile or so to the prosperous lumber village of Sayward. We were greatly impressed by the neat, attractive appearance of the village. All the houses were well-built and attractive, with green lawns and lots of flowers. We didn't see a single shack or run-down house or littered yard. Everything looked brand new. There was a park with a lake and a large playing field. There was a volunteer fire department, a community center, grocery store, restaurant, branch college, and an office of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
While we were eating our prawn supper, a very pleasant woman from another boat came by and gave us a salmon her husband had caught that day! They had more than they could eat. That was certainly nice of them. The fish was even cleaned. So we'll be feasting on salmon for several days.
The weather has started to turn cold. Rained on and off all day. It's hard to believe I was wearing shorts yesterday.
Seymour Narrows connects the Strait of Georgia with Johnstone Strait. It's only eight-tenths of a mile wide, so the tide rushes through at a tremendous rate, sometimes as fast as 15 knots! (A knot is 6076 feet an hour.) Today, it will max at 7.5 knots. Since our top hull speed is 6.5 knots, we obviously can't buck that kind of tidal current. We have to go through the narrows at slack, and since we're heading north, we want slack turning to ebb, so the ebb tide will carry us speedily along in Johnstone Strait. The slack turning to ebb occurs at 3:10 this afternoon. We're currently approaching Discovery Passage, so we'll hole up some place until it's time to make the dash for Seymour Narrows.
We made it! In fact, it turned out to be a piece of cake. We were almost disappointed; we'd been looking forward to some excite-
ment. Oh, there were some eddies and rips, but nothing compared with the entrance to San Juan Channel. We didn't even hole up; we were outside the narrows at two o'clock, and the water looked so calm that Roy decided to make a run for it. We waltzed right through, no problem.
The scenery continues to be overwhelmingly beautiful. Saw four Orca whales playing in the water. Sometimes they came up so far, we could see almost their entire bodies. Lots of good views of their flukes.
The tidal current pushed us along at a good pace. We covered nearly 70 miles today! Arrived at Kelsey Bay around 8 o'clock.
Had our first scare just when we thought we were safely at the end of our day's journey. A fishing boat backed away from the dock just as we were approaching. they almost backed right into us. Roy blasted the horn, and they slowed down, giving Roy time to get by and turn around.
Tied to a government dock at Kelsey Bay. It's free! We didn't even pay for the electricity!
Roy bought two pounds of live prawns from a fishing boat. Then we walked a mile or so to the prosperous lumber village of Sayward. We were greatly impressed by the neat, attractive appearance of the village. All the houses were well-built and attractive, with green lawns and lots of flowers. We didn't see a single shack or run-down house or littered yard. Everything looked brand new. There was a park with a lake and a large playing field. There was a volunteer fire department, a community center, grocery store, restaurant, branch college, and an office of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
While we were eating our prawn supper, a very pleasant woman from another boat came by and gave us a salmon her husband had caught that day! They had more than they could eat. That was certainly nice of them. The fish was even cleaned. So we'll be feasting on salmon for several days.
The weather has started to turn cold. Rained on and off all day. It's hard to believe I was wearing shorts yesterday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)