Waggoner's June1st Flotilla to Ketchikan

Anne arrives in Sitka!

The humpback whales in Peril Strait seemed quite large although I can't verify that. They spout very tall spray, and seem to roll, but like icebergs, they were staying mostly underwater. I found that trying to take photos was futile, so I simply relaxed and watched. No need for a search grid on this mission!

After perhaps an hour, I chose to focus on moving ahead, so bade them goodbye, rechecked the chartplotter, the Exploring SE Alaska guidebook for anchorage spots, the Marine Atlas and then powered up. It was time to concentrate.

More and more, I find myself wanting to linger as the days slip by, but at this time and space, Appleton Cove was my goal. I decided to check it out, even though the chartplotter indicated 2 boats (with AIS, an electronic identifying system) were there, suggesting other boats also may be anchored there.

Upon entering there I found 2 additional boats, both coming out of that particular area, so chose to drop anchor close enough to shore to manage with my anchoring setup. There was protection on two sides and no signs of logs being blown in or carried in on high tides there.

I am fairly confident about anchoring, yet every time can bring new experiences. In addition to trying to anchor in fairly shallow water, which can be very challenging to find in Alaska, Cascadia seems to drift, either seeking out crab pots that can potentially get the long line entangled with Cascadia's prop, or towards shore, where we don't belong!

This particular night I was on the deck, going back and forth to the cabin, checking the depth. After letting out 100 ft of chain I noticed the roller that guides the chain was in a diagonal position and VERY loose. I thought I should turn off power to the windlass, which raises and lowers the anchor. I moved the roller which seemed like it was about to fall apart, back in line, and saw a screw was missing. I looked around and then felt around for it. No luck.

I felt safe there, but wanted to put out more line and then needed to tie off the line. By now it was almost 10:30 pm and there was very little light. I had left Petersburg at 9:00 am after the fog lifted. I began to feel my weariness and knew it was going to be a short night, sleep wise, and I needed to eat some food and get to sleep.

My first concern was getting more line out. With the roller lined up I carefully let out more line bit by bit then wrapped some around the cleat behind the windlass to take the pressure off the windlass from all the weight of the chain hanging down. Then I climbed back inside the cabin, pulled out the tool box and set it on the table. I made a pb and j sandwich and checked the time for slack in the morning, telling myself all would be well overnight, and in the morning I would figure something out. After setting the iPhone alarm to 4:15 am I reviewed the very good, wonderful, truly amazing day and went to sleep.

I was awakened with the sound of the alarm, then slowly responded by opening my eyes. It was light out. I could feel the boat was afloat! Out to the deck, nothing had moved and the water was calm. I looked around and tucked up against the raised edge of the deck was a somewhat long stainless screw. I looked carefully for where it must have snapped. No sign. How could this be? I looked some more...

I grasped the roller and noticed much to my relief that the roller was sturdier than I had imagined, and had what appeared to be a small stainless cylinder inside with grooves for the Phillips head screw. I had the missing screw, picked up the screwdriver, held the roller and the screw went in easily. Then I tightened the screw on the other end of the roller and it appeared "whole" again.

As a test, I tried pulling up the chain by hand, in case I might need to tomorrow. UGH :-( Don't know that I could manage 100 ft. without a huge dose of adrenalin!

Now I have 3 additional topics to add to the checklist before starting the engine, (all of which I have encountered.)

1. Are the 4 screws and 4 bolts holding the windlass base to the deck fully tightened?
2. Are the 2 screws secured tightly on the plastic roller?
3. Are the wires in the anchor locker still securely held up high so they will not inadvertently be damaged as the chain and line enter and leave the chain locker?

I turned on the engine, checked water flow and engaged the windlass, stopping more often than usual. The line and chain came up nicely, as if nothing had happened.

I had plenty of time since rising so early, and traveled slowly, checking the shoreline for bears and other wildlife and wondering how many boaters I would see in this area. I saw the ferry from Ketchikan last evening about 9:30 pm and it was on the return trip about 6:30 am. But I saw no others boats, only the one where the water narrows into a slender passage which I figured was waiting for slack.

However, when I finally got close, I saw a small boat shoot out of that passage, so I sped up. I noticed a fishing boat over to the side and radioed him, asking when he was entering? He said he passed through earlier and was at anchor. I was still wondering where other boats were, and told him I was there to go through Sergius Narrows. He said it was further in.

I radioed back and asked him if it was too late now and he replied:

"I see you moving fast, and you will have no problem. Keep going."

By now I had looked on the chart and saw that even though there was quite a long section of narrow channel, there was one very small area labeled Sergius. I asked myself whether I should wait the almost 12 hours for the next high slack, and recalled one fellow told me that you are through Sergius so fast you wonder what stops so many people? People with lots of experience or those who have grown up around here may be confident, but now that I had overlooked that it was one tiny section I felt my pulse in higher gear!

I have gone through Deception Pass sometimes when it was pushing me around and swirling, to gain experience. I felt some of that before arriving at the spot with swirls marked on the chartplotter. I have also been pushed around there and other spots while kayaking, so for me the width was a big issue. I kept moving fast and looking more at the chartplotter to see exactly where I was to enter the precise spot and where I would exit. I did not see any place that was wide and without weeds.

I slowed as I approached, watched the marks, and found that the fisherman was right on; I was there in time to get through easily. It was more calm there than 2 spots I had just passed on my way to Sergius. However I was moving slower now, and scooted thru it quickly.

On the @ 6 hour swing, I went through less than 30 minutes after when I expected slack. I cannot advise others, and should have been there earlier, but I know my boat and trusted the local fisherman more than my figuring out when to go through. I was fully prepared to hold up and had seen (empty) areas as I approached that are available to wait in.

Once again I was very happy that Cascadia has the power to get up and move, not just travel about 8 knots or a similar speed. I was grateful to power up and get on my way.

Continuing on, by the time I arrived in Sitka it was probably @ 3 hours from Sergius Rapids. There were no other boats that I noticed in the narrow section before or after Sergius for quite awhile. I began to see a few fishing boats and a few large motor yachts later on, closer to Sitka, but not as many as I expected. The skies were shades of grey, the beautiful waterway was almost vacant of humans and all was well.

At one point I began to feel slight swells off to the starboard and noticed that the open ocean was over there. Perhaps the ferry follows the open area then turns inside, I don't know.

The way the chart looks to me, it is as if we leave Chatham Strait, then begin going uphill to the NW, but with few turns. Next we enter an open area, where two routes meet, and there is a fairly large turn zone (such as the large ocean going vessels use in the Puget Sound.) I imagined we crossed the watery summit there, and going forward it was all downhill to Sitka.

Pure imagination, a mixture of mountains and waterways...

Anne, aboard Cascadia in Sitka, Alaska, having skipped the ferry after all.
 
Anne's Latest from Sitka!

Sitka By the Sea

This is a beautiful area, with many small islands, rocks and rock piles galore, and large expanses of water, starting with Sitka Sound and including numerous inlets to explore. The geography here includes steep tree-covered mountains that seem to produce and hold fog much of the time.

I keep watching the fog and guessing when it will envelop the town and marina(s), but it never did while I was here. The fog blocks out snow-capped mountain tops, and one day it seemed to be coming so close we would be fogged in, then it was if automatic brakes engaged.

Fishing is a huge part of the economy, and in this marina, as the others I have stayed in, fishing boats seem to occupy 90% of the slips. Sitka alone has 1400 slips in 5 marinas and a waiting list of over 200.

I see large fishing boats coming and going here, and imagine they are out on the ocean much of the time. I was surprised to see three large boats along the outer edge of the northern dock where I stayed were from Petersburg, quite a ways from Sitka.

There are 5 species of salmon, black cod, ling cod, Pacific cod, rockfish and halibut that a Sitka plant processes, and the seasons are open at different times, so these boats go after different fish at different times. Could that be why they were in the Sitka region?

There are also large fish-buying tenders that travel to the fishing boats and take their fish back to a processing plant so the boat does not have to stop fishing to deliver them. I was parked adjacent to one of those large tenders in Wrangell. The owner is from Seattle and comes up each summer to go around to various boats in the co-op and offload the catch.

There are some very large yachts in Sitka, more than I saw at other ports, including one traditional looking one at the fuel dock when I arrived. I watched the young staff, dressed in uniform and looking well heeled, carry aboard multiple loads of fresh fruits and vegetables, followed by cases of bottled water. I noticed the yacht carries kayaks and at least 10 large, sturdy-looking fishing rods and reels mounted on the ceiling of a walkway connecting both sides of the boat.

I believe there are 10 private rooms with facilities, all with outside entrances along the deck. I forgot to ask how many staff there are, but learned the crew live on the lower level. The guests travel aboard for a week between Juneau and Sitka, and I was told that earlier that day 2 or 3 were picked up in their private jets.

There are other large yachts at the marina, including some very modern-looking ones. One evening I noticed a group walking past Cascadia about 9:30 pm, returning to their yacht after probably attending the Ted Talk in Sitka that evening. Shadow Fax was tied up at the end of the a nearby dock and that name that caused me to wonder if it was a boat for techies. There was a boat with Seattle listed as the home port that was 3 levels, and has a 16' C-Dory for a tender.

I noticed two large yachts in Sitka that provide tours were anchored in small bays along Chatham Strait, and I saw one taking 8 passengers out in an inflatable to see a nearby waterfall.

Earlier, at the Anan Wildlife Sanctuary there was a very large yacht, also with quite a few guest rooms, no doubt. We noticed crew members wearing their uniforms as they were leaving Anan and we were just beginning our tour. Someone asked our guide if famous people visit and she told us that there are quite a few famous and wealthy people that tour SE on yachts such as these, some with their families and others, including TV actors, with a group of friends.

I find Alaska marinas fascinating. The facilities can seem sparse and feel spartan in the very few showers and restrooms, yet the variety of vessels and people is unbelievable.

Some things are allowed here that would not pass muster with the dock "police" in other marinas, and vice-versa. I watched individuals clean the fish they just caught at the docks in Ketchikan and Wrangell, tossing the remains in the water. Sitka does not allow that due to all the sea lions, and I noticed some hefty-sized ones south of town one day while exploring by boat.

A fellow one dock south from me here was doing what appeared to be actual welding with what seemed like a blow torch right there in his slip on his older fishing vessel. I looked twice thinking I was not really seeing that.

Across the dock from him a man with a beautiful old "woody" that was used in BC Parks was lovingly repainting and sealing the forward decking as we walked by. Carol, a new friend, remarked that when he finishes he will start over at the other end of the boat, because work on a wooden boat is never over.

One morning I asked the owner if he might take his boat, which is for sale, to Port Townsend for the Wooden Boat Festival, and he replied that has had it there before and he might have a buyer there. I would almost want to shrink wrap this pristine boat rather than motor south on it, yet as a wooden boat aficionado he no doubt will enjoy the scenic trip on such a beautiful boat.

The boats on either side of the slip I rented appear to be slowly disintegrating and I wonder if one is even seaworthy. No matter where I dock, marinas seem to have boats that never move as the owners become unable to enjoy them. I suppose it is what we call " aging in place." The rust spreads, the boats may take on water, and sometimes a tarp appears to cover up the neglected maintenance by those who are unable to let go of a dream to boat somewhere. Some have told me they wanted to boat to Alaska or somewhere else, and it is evident that health will no longer allow it.

Sitka is home to very many private and commercially licensed fishing boats from the most humble to those valued at over a million dollars, small runabouts to family boats, privately owned and commercial yachts, and sailboats, among other boats. Previously I did not know that when a 6 pack is mentioned on a dock, it refers to a boat, usually metal I think, licensed to take out 6 paying customers.

There are many places to boat, and many fish to catch, either to eat or to sell around SE, especially Sitka, with the ocean nearby.

I invited locals Joe and Carol to help me get out out to St. Lazaria, a small Wildlife Refuge adjacent to Mt. Edgecumbe, the dormant volcano west of Sitka. We had a great time finding brightly colored puffins and other sea birds and avoided the various rock piles and shallows they know as locals. They also shared tasty fresh salmon they caught the day before and smoked all night. I had never eaten salmon that way and now understand better the value of smoking it.

They also told me about places I could easily boat to and perhaps see bears, so the next day I spent a few hours slowly exploring Silver Bay and and Camp Coogan Bay, where I noticed liveaboards tucked in here and there.


Sitka by the Land

There are many historic places to visit here, in fact 22 on the National Register of Historic Places. Most seem to charge entry fees. Overall, it seems to me that Sitka is more expensive to visit than the three other towns I have visited. The marina fees are higher, bus fees are higher, food comes a longer distance and some prices reflect that also.

Small cruise ships bring guests as does one large one, private yachts cater to guests from all over, as well as the Alaska Ferry, which has a four hour "fast ferry" to and from Juneau. It passed me while I was heading north towards Sergius Rapids, then raced past me going 32 knots as I was exiting the area there afterwards. For those who fly there, Alaska Air and smaller planes land at the airport, which is adjacent to the Coast Guard Station.

The Visitor Guide seems to me to focus on advertising sponsors more than other towns choose to. However, Sitka has much to advertise, including music festivals and a year round schedule of interesting events. November is the time of the big whale festival, apparently as they head south...Combine that with the varied scenery and history and there is something for everyone.

The waterfront has gone through many changes, from simple native housing, forward. Currently when walking to town from the north marina where guests seem to be assigned, we pass fuel storage, fish processing facilities, lodging for those seasonal workers, a well stocked marine store and two lodges for guests. Closer to the downtown are a few shops and professional offices. Across the street are gravel parking areas, grass growing up and around a few old houses, a couple of small eateries and a bar that seemed busy.

I was most interested in the Sheldon Jackson Museum, which came highly recommended by Craig Farnsworth who along with Mary visited there several weeks earlier. It has an extensive collection of native artifacts that I was drawn to.

There are always questions in my mind whether such items belong in a museum managed by the dominant society and I will research more later. (This trip has generally been a time without access to the internet, and as one who is curious about so many things I am seeing, I greatly miss that resource.)

The signage outside in front of the museum states that "this collection represents Alaska's Native Cultures in transition, gathered between 1888 and 1898 by missionary educator, the Rev. Dr. Sheldon Jackson."

I noticed inside the museum there were some newer additions documented from whom/where they came and when. After I return to WA I look forward to reading and learning more about this collection.

I have a vague sense there may be some reciprocity with the Burke Museum at the University of WA. The collections on display are fascinating, and I was surprised they extended far beyond the area of SE Alaska.

I learned many new things, and was most fascinated to see an exhibit of clothing for those who lived in the Arctic regions and a description of how the clothes were made. I had no idea that "intestines of sea mammals or the skins of fish provided water-proof and wind-proof garments...some mukluks, mittens and pants were also fashioned from fish skin and gut." Sign alongside display at Sheldon Jackson Museum in Sitka, Alaska.

As someone who worked at REI for 7 years while substitute teaching, and values lightweight insulating clothing, I find this information and the examples of this type clothing fascinating and most informative about the ingenuity of Arctic natives.

I enjoyed the Sitka National Historical Park which is nearby the museum, and in the forest outside there is a collection of totems along a path overlooking the Bay.

I walked past the Russian Cathedral and other historic places, but found talking with locals took priority, particularly with several women who had shops and lived there for many years. The pool and library were both closed the week I visited, so I found other places to connect with others, including lots of time on the docks.

Goodbye Sitka

Looking back, I recall deciding while in Ketchikan to come to Sitka by ferry because I was not finding another boat to travel with. The Alaska Ferry is a reliable way to come, and very helpful if on a schedule or just wanting to let someone else do the driving.

Happily, at the last minute, I was very fortunate to connect with new friends Ron and Janice and we traveled to Wrangell together. Traveling with them for a couple of days, as well as meeting others along the way who had been to Sitka and encouraged me, helped me cast off for Sitka as our ways parted.

Rick, another new friend, emailed me with a suggested weather window to get me here to Sitka, and since coming here I am more confident that I can manage. I am leaving this beautiful spot knowing there are coves I can anchor in along the way. I am still respectful of Sergius Narrows, but not scared.

After tugging along for 4.5 hours I arrived at Sergius 90 minutes ahead of high slack, and looked around carefully this time since someone had told me locals often use an alternate route, and I had a good idea where it would be based on the charts.

I noticed a small boat with several fellows fishing in a rip, with fast-moving, confused water, and I called them on the radio several times, with no reply. I eased in closer and saw them at the back of the boat, so hollered over, while using some hand signals.

"OK to go thru here?" (pointing) then repeated "OK to go thru here?"

One hollered back "Yes."

"Now?"

"Yes."

I had seen a couple of navigation aids there, checked with the fishermen, and with the shallow draft on Cascadia and ample power, I sped up a bit, crossing through the rip and into the passage. Experience certainly helps build confidence!

It was not too much longer till the water widened and the wind began to pick up as the fetch grew longer in Peril Strait. I knew that Appleton Cove was ahead and I began to consider stopping there as Cascadia was beginning to bounce around quite a bit with the wind.

When arriving, it was very clear that quite a few of us had the same idea! The water was calm when finally getting inside and the rain showers were continuing. I could see lots of boats so didn't want to waste time weaving around them, looking for a spot. There was space near a fishing boat so I went forward on the deck to closely watch the roller while the windlass dropped the anchor. This time the other screw on the roller came off, despite my having tightened it previously. I was ready! I turned off the windlass, picked up the screwdriver, reassembled the roller and then went back a couple of times to the cabin to nudge into reverse and finished setting the anchor. It was shallower than I preferred, but the anchor caught and held fine.

The next morning it was still showering. I got up and looked around about 4 am, listened to the weather report and went back to sleep, awaking a bit before 9 am. It looked as everyone left! I ate breakfast and was out moving the chain inside the locker when a boat I had not seen passed by on its way out. I was on my way a few minutes later.

Alas, no whales today. I wonder where they went to, and what they do when the winds pick up? Of course they follow the food, but how do they choose to go north or south if they don't know?

I had just spent an hour thinking about possibly heading north to Hoonah, and then on towards Glacier Bay, weighing the pros and cons. I know that whales seem to be in Icy Straits in large numbers oftentimes. I also know there are 3 fronts coming through the next few days, so good anchorages will be very helpful.

When reaching Chatham Strait I entered and looked around, noting the winds are not as high as the forecast, and recalling fine anchorages along the way. South it is. After awhile I turned closer to the western shore to take some photos of a beautiful waterfall. I lingered, hesitant to leave, and verified that the fog was dropping while the wind was beginning to increase. Seeing how close Ell Cove was, I entered, liked it and dropped the anchor at 3 pm, taking more photos, eating and writing.

Later, about 5:45 I noticed the fog had risen so decided to go out of the cove and take a look. Not only had the fog lifted, the wind was nowhere near the 15 knots forecast, so I continued southward, thinking of 2 other places to explore along this eastern side of Baranof Island.

I reread the guide book about Baranof Warm Springs and noticed this time that waterfalls and a trail to a lake were also there. I turned in to check it out, and found the dock full, as predicted, yet with room if one very large fishing boat, Katrina, out of Astoria, would move forward or backward. Noticing that a fellow aboard it who had his back to me was chatting, I lingered. Two others saw me and came off their boats and walked up to his boat. He turned around and offered to move, and did. It was very tight. The thrusters took me sideways, and 3 guys were there ready to catch my lines. It was an easy docking with such help.

I met a woman across the dock on a cozy sailboat who arrived earlier, having anchored the night before at Pybus Bay on Admiralty Island, and said she saw a young brownie this morning. Maybe that will be my next anchorage on my way to Petersburg! Admiralty is said to have the most brown bears of any island in Alaska. Weather will be the deciding factor.

Here I sit, with a direct view of the roaring falls, nestled in between 2 larger boats and having visited a very hot tub. Please note: the name Baranof "warm" springs is misleading if using the tubs near the dock.

MONDAY

No wonder these falls are so beautiful and so full. It has been raining 20 of my first 24 hours here! The skylights have standing water, the cockpit has water, but meanwhile, I am watching boats of various sizes coming and going.

Several very large yachts anchored in the bay earlier today and one ferried 7 clients in for a walk, although that didn't seem to last too long for most of them, with the tender returning quite soon. A few hardy souls came down the ramp to the dock later and I noticed the driver of the tender had a satellite phone in his hand as he arrived to pick them up. As usual, no cell coverage in a cove.

There is a notice posted at the head of the ramp here at Baranof Warm Springs, notifying readers that the dock and ramp are going to be replaced next year. The little store area is no more, but there is a private foundation that focuses on whales and environmental issues.

TUESDAY 9:00 AM

After more rain later last evening, it has finally stopped. I even see a bit of blue sky. Most of the boats have or are moving on, and I plan to also, depending on what I see in Chatham Strait. A few boats are heading north, looking for bears, and I may head south to Red Bluff Bay or Gut Bay. Not sure about finding bears, but no doubt it will be beautiful. I understand the walls in the narrow coves are tall and the sun is not there as much as other coves, so I may move on soon.

Anne
 
Anne's latest adventure:

Today I awoke in a lovely anchorage named Cannery Cove on the S. End of Admiralty Island. No bear(s) so after a couple of hours I decided to spend time learning more about boating in fog.

This was serious fog and I spent a bit over 2 hours in it. Visibility was never very much, and with the small islands, islets and rocks I tried to listen, look around, and could perhaps see things that were no more than 25 feet. I just retraced my route that was on the chartplotter from last evening, which made it easy, but not realistic.

When I got to Frederick Sound, I decided to keep going, with the chartplotter zoomed in, Channel 16 with good volume, staying close to shore and going slowly. I quickly learned that I let go of the wheel a great deal, such as reaching for a different chart, a guidebook, even the water. With no track, I had to really focus, and that included having the two screen setup, with the left screen at .3 mile setting, and the right screen mirroring it, at 2 miles.

(I have no idea why they mirror each other with such different screen settings, and hope Kevin Monahan, who teaches radar, will advise me on that.)

I also learned very quickly that keeping a hand on the steering wheel did NOT keep the boat in a straight line, I do not understand that either, except perhaps there is some "play" in the wheel?

A couple of times I found myself steering by watching the patterns in the water ahead, which are probably caused by the wind. That was totally counterproductive. I HAD to steer by the chartplotter, which for me is counterintuitive.

The biggest lesson I learned is something I had been taught but never experienced, so had forgotten.

I noticed I had neglected to start up the DeLorme Inreach Satellite Communicator, that shows my daughter and son see when I start, stop, the track of the boat, like SPOT, plus they receive an automatic text when I start.

I reached up by the front window where it rides, picked it up and turned it on, by holding in 2 buttons. That was all I had to do. I automatically looked up to see where I was, but...fog...then I looked at the screen and was instantly confused. I saw the shoreline, but with an island? I turned the wheel away, but where was away?

During that very short time, the boat had done a 180 and for a few seconds I was back staying on the track; I not only lost track of following the chartplotter screen, I briefly reverted to following the track, which I had just made.

Even though I quickly figured it out, the tracks for the 2+ hours show I did slip up a couple of times, with the worst going completely backwards.

I found that I was mentally tired and decided to try out entering Eliza Cove, thinking that since is fairly long it may not be foggy with all the land around it. If that was true I could have a mental break and perhaps see some wildlife. The chartplotter on Cascadia goes down to 30 ft. which makes steering in fog doable if the driver goes slow and pays very close attention, and the depths and marking are correct. It worked, and as I exited the narrow access from the east, sunshine appeared in Eliza.

I spent about 2 1/2 hours there going about 2.5 knots and checking out the place. It is lovely, nicely available for any wildlife to visit, and various birds were busy moving around lots and eating herring, I think.

I was hopeful that the weather report was accurate and the fog had lifted, so started to go back out. The same very thick fog was in the South Passage, but now I could see above the fog. When back on Frederick Sound, the sky was still somewhat visible, briefly, then just fog. I continued south and continued with "instrument boating."

I proceeded towards another place I wanted to see, and expected it would be clear once I turned in especially since Chatham Strait was flat and just a tiny bit misty, while fog was pouring out from Frederick Sound, hopefully dissipating! I found Chapin Bay to be a very beautiful spot even with the recommended anchorage spot taken by a boat and skiff. I slowly circumnavigated the area and shade was spreading due to the high and close hills. I took a bunch of photos and noticed it is not too far from Baranof Warm Springs.

As I came back out of that area, I wanted to take advantage of the flat water and blue sky, (which I am doing currently.). Last evening beginning at @ 7:45 I began seeing Humpbacks solo and in a couple of small groups in various places on this very large area and hope to see more tonight.

From Petersburg boats come north to Frederick Sound. From Juneau boats come south and those two routes join together and connect with FS which then meets up with Chatham Strait. No on or off ramps when traveling here, and very little traffic! It is a great location for whales to feed and cavort!

The last two nights I noticed two large cruise ships, some fishing vessels going to Petersburg, some charter cruise boats, and a couple of boats in the smaller range, such as Cascadia. So far tonight I have seen one fishing boat and one private charter adventure boat on AIS within a huge
area extending on the four main waterways. And no waterspouts...yet.

Last night I dug out a book I purchased for Colin, my grandson. Here are some facts about these large humpback whales.

Full grown females 45-49 ft. 25-40 tons

males 42-46 ft. 25-30 tons

Tail length 15 ft
Flipper 15 ft each

Blow 6-20 ft. high

Dive time @ 5 min-15 min.
Dive depth surface down to average of 120 ft, sometimes to 600 ft.

Adult feeding habits. @ 1/3 TON per day

I will stop here, but there is much more interesting information in:
Alaska's Watchable Whales, Humpback and Killer Whales.
Photos by JayBeedle, Jayleen Beedle and Mark Kelley

Website:www.markkelley.com

Today began in fog, and it was a good day to learn about boating in fog.

Anne, cruising at 3.5 knots, watching for whales
 
Another tale of Anne's Alaskan Adventure

Tuesday I left Baranof Warm Springs and all that rain, and found calm water in Chatham Strait. I was poking along offshore quite a bit then saw a water spout. I turned off the engine and went out on the bow, standing there for perhaps an hour. Everything was dripping wet, but the whales were quite noisy. I eventually found 4 of them very spread out, and making a variety of sounds. Sometimes it seemed that there was almost extra effort exhaling, if that is when the spouting appears, because there were two different sounds. Also the whale farthest away was making a different noise, and it did not seem in conjunction with the spouts.

It was almost a box formation, and did not seem like they were working together. I mostly just enjoyed being in that large body of water out on the deck watching and listening till eventually I only saw one, heading south.

Next up was checking out Red Bluff Bay, and gradually I saw beautiful red rock on the hillsides. From a distance I thought maybe trees had been cut and then it became clear why the name for this area. It reminded me of the Southwest red rocks.

I went in back towards the end, figuring a stream would be there, and perhaps bears, and briefly lost focus on the depth. Wow, the guide and the chartplotter listing of the depth along with the tide tables as I read them often have different opinions, and this was one of those times. I am very relieved to have been moving slowly and looked at the depth when I did.

Since we had just finished 20 hours of rain recently the many waterfalls were fun to see, and each seemed different from the others. One had water sliding down a flat angled stone, like a huge block at a 45 degree angle which might be fun to slide down, except for what was at the bottom, and several were very high up, long and lean. One was very full, so full in fact that it spilled over into a nearby ravine and continued downward since it didn't fit in the channel that was there.

No one else was there in the idyllic bay, but I was not ready to settle in so soon, so I took a few photos on the way out, wondering if the wind had picked up.

Yes, now there was wind, but I still pointed NE across the water. Things got noisy behind me and the silverware drawer opened. (I keep forgetting to ask others how they keep doors closed when the winds kick up.)

Pretty soon I decided to zig zag, and that helped on the zig but not the zag. I looked at the chart plotter and saw I was fairly close to the south side of Frederick Sound and could get out of the wind. So when close enough I turned and moved close to shore, out of the fetch.

Maybe the wind will lessen a bit later and then I will cross over to Admiralty Island. Meanwhile there were interesting bays to look into, and I thought I might begin with Security Bay which is a site for a marine park.

Then water spouts appeared. The whales are here! Forget Admiralty Island, forget looking at bays; for me, these whales are not things I can count on being available tomorrow when I will have more time.

So, now the dance begins! Where are they heading? Are they spread out or together? And the biggest question is "How can I watch them without following them?

Jim Bathurst, Whale Guide Extraordinaire and C-Brat, what have you written about whale etiquette in the San Juan's?

"Let's see, stay out of their path, do not angle in towards them, stay at least 200 yards away, do not chase them..."

These are humpbacks, not our local pods in WA/BC. These do not swim like dolphins and Orcas, in the rhythmic up and down travel mode, as far as I have seen. They often don't swim in family groups, seem much less interested in us than orcas, and do not seem to want us within at least a mile, from what my early impressions are so far.

I really do not know how to watch them except with strong binoculars or exceptional luck if one or more happen to come by. Unlike earlier today, when the water was flat calm, now there is some wind, along with the current. So I don't want to turn off the engine but do want to watch them.

Well, they seem to have disappeared, so now I guess I will just keep looking for water spouts. A while later I see a couple of waterspouts over towards the shore. I am far away so try to angle that way. Then I see 1,2,3,4,5,6 waterspouts rhythmically spaced out as if "reporting for duty, Sir!"

This is very strange, indeed. Now they seem like they are "OAM." (On a mission)
They moved together for a bit, down the shoreline. Then they disappear again. A bit later there was a big whoosh with all six jumping up together as if for a "High Five," only make this one a "High Six!"

I had seen a cover photo of humpbacks doing this and did not understand what it signified. Now having seen this from a distance, I looked it up in the book I purchased for my grandson. I had just witnessed "bubble-net feeding."

This is the technique, quoting from "Alaska's Watchable Whales, Humpback and Killer Whales" photos by JayBeedle, Jayleen Beedle and Mark Kelley.

"They dive beneath a school of fish and one whale blows a ring of bubbles while another whale releases a deafening "feeding call" that confuses the prey and causes them to school tightly or to flee upward in the water column. As the bubbles rise, they form a cylindrical curtain in the water that helps to corral the fish. They remain within the encircling bubbles as if trapped in a net. The whales en-masse swim up from under the fish with their mouths wide open, engulfing the concentrated prey. ...Interestingly, whales start blowing the bubbles at a depth of 20 meters (60 feet) because bubbles blown deeper than this depth will be too dispersed by the time they reach the surface to "hold" the fish."

I was in total amazement of whatever it was that I had just witnessed. And at least one participant seemed pretty excited also because soon after that one of the whales did a high jump, probably as a celebration!

I was far away and couldn't see them much after that. When I looked at my watch it was time to get moving. I had forgotten how long Frederick Sound is, and wanted to stay in Discovery Bay. I made more than one discovery there...

Anne, with a whale-crush
 
Anne's Latest Update:

Note: Anne had Cascadia hauled in Wrangell to get a fresh coat of bottom paint applied as well as having her anodes checked.

I am learning more about the overall fish processing operation and what it requires to get fresh fish from Alaska to Seattle and beyond. It is also more apparent to me why there are so many guest workers from other countries needing work visas and why the Alaska delegation has asked Congress for more work visas. It appears to me that a strong work ethic and character are required and many citizens are not able/willing to work in these available seasonal jobs.

I have docked in several towns that have large operations, and currently am living aboard in the boatyard for a few days adjacent to the Trident operation in Wrangell. We share the same gigantic concrete slab, and the same gates for coming and leaving. By adjacent, I mean very close, so close that I hear the small forklifts transporting large boxes to packing containers 24 hours a day. You know, the vehicles with the back-up "beep, beep, beep" sounds. The sound that is rather high-pitched so we can all hear it.

I am watching drivers of large forklifts moving and stacking those large containers every day, as well as later moving them from the stacks onto a flatbed truck, always very efficiently. The large trucks are loud, as are the large forklifts. It takes a lot of power to mover the heavy containers, and a loud back-up "beep-beep-beep" sound to warn those of us around. Those of us here are very careful to stay in the boatyard and out of their way.

I have seen many boats of various sizes with varying crews and varying methods of fishing this summer. I have seen some coming to port to offload their fish, at the end of one or more days, often @ 3 days, as well as some large boats that go directly to those catching the fish, and offloading them right there, then returning to the preferred processor to deal with them.

I have watched those working in the plants, who seem to sit down on breaks and check their phones. I have talked to some crew hands on the boats, and watched them as the boats load up, dock in winds, rain, tidal currents, etc. I have been next to them at the dock and caught some lines as they return. One evening it took 4 attempts to get a large boat tied up, and the pilot tried 3 different locations. Everyone was tired-looking, the space was very tight and the water was moving fast.

As I have written earlier, those who do this work have my admiration. Those who crew on the boats, (not processors) seem to be more independent and have an opportunity for a share of the profits from the sale of the fish.

Those in the processing plants work for large corporations. Information appears clearly stated on the website regarding their jobs. Applicants see in the Trident website job description that the "work is physically demanding, cold, wet and repetitive. Generally you can expect the weather in Alaska to be miserable. Are you able to work 12-18 hour days 7 days a week?" They are told that those on shore typically live in dorms for 2-6 people on bunks, with shared bathrooms. They are told they must be able to get along with others, be respectful of differences, including those from many cultures, and have a positive attitude.

They learn that they should not bring very much, since there is little personal space. One suggested item TO bring is a battery alarm clock along with any meds required, since mail is often slow. Jobs can last from 6 weeks to 6 months. They also learn work hours are not guaranteed. They are expected to work when needed.

The salary is $7.75 per hour for a regular shift and $11.63 for overtime. There are specific instructions to not come to the job interview sick, about flu vaccines, etc. Room and board is $15.00 for each 8 hr. day worked, but is not charged for days not worked. If the contract is fulfilled, then round trip transportation to/from Seattle is paid by the company and a reimbursement of $10.00 room and board per work day is paid.

Trident reports that the Wrangell facility has the capacity to process 1 million pounds of salmon daily. During the summer, every Friday a tug brings a barge here to Wrangell and can fully load in 12 hours, I am told. The barge is hauled directly to Seattle where further distribution occurs. No wonder the truck drivers off-loading from ships in Seattle are in a hurry! This salmon product is processed very fresh and kept in refrigerated, or frozen, containers, (not sure which) then driven non-stop all the way to the Port of Seattle.

SEATTLE TO SOUTHEAST ALASKA CONNECTION

Every week tugs from Seattle bring up food, supplies, and most everything to Ketchikan. Then loads are grouped by destination and, proceed northward. Wrangell gets the load on Sunday, as I understand, weather permitting, especially in spring and fall. Last Sunday I took a photo of the tug heading out from Wrangell, pulling a huge load, which included garbage.

Now I understand why Mondays and Tuesdays are the best days to grocery shop in SE. Also with most stores closed in town on Sunday, it takes time to put out stock on Monday.

The first Monday I went to the grocery in Alaska, insensitive me was surprised when shelves were still pretty empty. I did not realize any of this, and was working from what I was used to which was stores have stock crews that work a very early shift, or round the clock for those open 24 hrs.

I also had no idea almost everything is barged in weekly. It took 18 days for Cascadia to get to Ketchikan, and these tugs that haul items generally make a round trip to Seattle and back in 7 days.

At first glance one might think things are slow in small towns. I find the pace varies depending on the reality of the situation. Some things, like processing fresh fish and getting it to markets in huge volumes is very fast. Things that depend on receiving supplies can be fast when using air transport. Things that involve the barge are simply planned for.

I like the friendliness which seems instant here!
 
David thanks so much for re posting all these updates.. What a girl🙂
Anne you are a "doer" that's for sure. You are doing what so many of us sitting in our protected marinas dream of .. Keep going don't stop and above all be safe. Hopefully we will meet you sometime in person .
Best
Mark and Jodi from Irish Mist.
 
Anne will be making the crossing into BC pretty quick. She has let me know that communications is going to be hit and miss. She will forward her next entry as soon as possible.
 
Anne's Latest Update:

Goodbye Wrangell, Hello Ketchikan

Tuesday is here and Cascadia and I are getting splashed in the water finally! I am so ready, that is until we are going downwards and a huge log appears under us. I signal the Port employee who stops our descent until the log floats under the pier. Hmmm. I wonder where that came from? Oh, I just remember...we had to wait to be launched later than usual due to a minus 2 tide today. Must be extra debris in the water from an earlier high tide. While living in the work yard I was not paying attention to the tides nor much to the weather.

I decided to circle around outside the harbor to see how the boat feels and get the batteries charging after a week. I see the fog is burning off and am not feeling anything different with the boat being on land for a week, so turn back inside to the docks to fuel up. Once again I took more fuel than my counter indicated, and I am very careful when filling and recording. This time it was off by 16 gallons, and I am very frustrated.

I fill slowly, use the extender on the nozzle, and the manager was there with me because I asked him why drops of fuel were coming out from the "air exhaust?" for the fuel tank. He thinks there is a bend in the fuel line and/or an issue with air, which is what others have suggested when there was so much gurgling and I had to take so much time to fuel. I wonder if this is a common problem?

I asked Ronnie how I can be off so much on the fuel and he very politely suggested possible "operator error." That is the logical guess. I do stop when I see fuel drops coming out there.

As I left the dock I noticed a trawler leaving the Wrangell dock and followed her out. I didn't catch the name, but as it turned out I was behind until reaching Clarence Strait, when I caught up and passed.

There are many fishing boats out and after the high winds and rain, and I imagine all of us are happy with the nice change. The weather forecast is solid after a very wet week and so I hope to maybe go to Misty Fiords and spend 2 and 1/2 days out then be back Friday afternoon to connect with my travel partners.

This entire trip from Wrangell to Ketchikan has been challenging despite having light winds. The amount of wood in the water is a real surprise and it has been in every section of the journey. That demands lots of attention and on sunny days like today, the diamond-like sun reflections off the water make it tougher than on an overcast day.

As I am getting closer to Ketchikan I hope it will be a quick in and out, not like when I kept trying to find others to travel north with. In June I arrived very tired, so slept a bunch, then survived tons of rain, then kept searching for travel mates, but this visit will be different!

Oh, yes, I had forgotten the challenges of anchoring here. I am in Bar Harbor, with the usual wind and current and I aborted my first two somewhat early turns to be more precise with this current. I am in Ketchikan with tricky docking.

Wednesday morning arrives with me sleeping in and still a bit groggy! I guess 9 hours of paying close attention tuckered me out. Oh, the loud noise is...the flight seeing planes! There must be numerous cruise ships in today.

Jon, a C-Brat from Flotilla 2, stopped by when he noticed Cascadia. I wonder if he and I are the only Waggoner cruisers still up here? We compared notes on the weekend rain. Ketchikan averages double the amount of rain that Wrangell receives, and is usually more windy. He reported the rain was horizontal with this storm!

Jon is leaving his boat in Wrangell for the winter and hopping the Alaska Ferry back to Bellingham. I hope to be arriving at the Tugnuts Rendezvous about then. We both agree that we are very happy to have made this extended trip after wanting to come for many years and hope to return again.

Off now to the Harbormaster Office and to see the two great women there who are so helpful!

Anne, on Wednesday in Ketchikan
 
Anne's latest

Traversing Rocky Pass

One day I was out looking around in Frederick Sound, and no whales were making their presence known. I started thinking about how some land animals like to feed at dusk and wondered about marine creatures. Since these huge whales need to consume so much do they feed round the clock? What do they do when the seas are so windy? Must they keep surfacing?

I was recalling how my son and daughter used to be lucky finding animals at dusk in the Canadian Rockies when we used to car camp there, starting when they were 4 and 5. The 3 of us set up camp, explored, hiked, picnicked and cooked a simple supper. We cleaned up our campsite carefully of any food remains, then some evenings got in the car and drove to a stream, a river, or a salt lick if we had learned of one. We almost always saw animals, and then would come home to our tent and crawl in our bags to dream of the magnificent creatures we had seen.

Those memories of looking for wildlife and having adventures somehow led to a desire for what we call an adventure, going someplace new, trying something different, meeting new people.

I was ready for an adventure, and thought of Rocky Pass, a rather remote passage between Frederick Sound and Sumner Strait. The pass was narrow on the charts, looking more like a trail, actually. I expected it to be a challenge in the sense of following the route carefully and using the chartplotter, which is important in navigating channels and when anchoring. The most critical issue is being there in high water and following the charted route.

I was near Kake, which is near the north end of Rocky Pass. I had read about the narrow passageways, the rocks, the vegetation in the water. I imagined I would be seeing the tall mountains, but did not. The area seemed quite flat, more like meadows. The passageways were generally well marked.

By being careful I avoided the rocks, but not the vegetation, which I really dislike because it can cause engine problems. I wondered what "skill" is used to traverse solid sections of vegetation, growing completely across the route?

I found the pass challenging, in terms of concentration. The potential for banging one's boat on rocks or overheating the engine if weeds get in the waterline seems to make it less of an adventure and somewhat like rolling the dice given all the weeds the boat must pass through. I was happy to come through unscathed but finished with a sense of relief rather than elation from a fun and challenging experience.

Now comes the challenging experience....what happened when I got to Summer Strait.

There was no place I had wanted to camp along Rocky Pass. Now I was in Sumner Strait, and could see the wind was blowing, but it was manageable. The waves were coming from straight ahead as I picked my route. Soon they were spraying the windshield, and unfortunately it was not calm enough to speed across that area to get to Port Protection, a totally safe anchorage. I felt myself being challenged as a boat handler, in contrast to how I felt about the huge seaweeds blocking the passages.

For most of the way across it was ok, but a nuisance. I was confident it would continue at this level of inconvenience and lessened visibility. At some point the boat began pitching more than I have experienced. I was not scared, but was totally focusing on steering in these very chaotic waves coming from various directions. Unfortunately I had not thought to store my binocs and camera early on, so I was also working to keep them from crashing. The cupboards opened, as they sometimes do in rough seas, the drawers slid out, and books in the berth landed all over the bed. Nothing disastrous happened, but it felt as though I was in a struggle to stay on my feet a few times.

A while later things calmed down, probably much faster than it felt. I got inside the bay and marveled at the calm. I was in no hurry now because the challenge was over. I slowly found my way to the govt. dock and tied up. I sat there and tried to figure out what happened. The winds were reported at 15 and maybe they were, but I have kayaked in 15 knots and it is challenging, more of a strength and endurance challenge, but nothing close to the one section being this tough and this chaotic.

The waves were reported as 3 feet and that could be what they were most of the time. Generally they were head on at first then the angle changed as I was trying to find a route that was a bit more quiet. I reverted to zig zagging until things became crazy. What happened?

As I sat there the light was fading. I reread descriptions, looked at the chart, then finally found the answer on the chartplotter, which read "HEAVY TIDE RIPS" in one spot that I drove through to get to Port Protection. I never saw those words anywhere till I went back and checked everything I could think of. That area will be one I expect to remember, and to avoid.

I have always been concerned about tide rips, hearing about them pulling swimmers out to sea in the ocean. I had not been through an experience like this and will watch more carefully for notices of tide rips.

TAKEAWAY

The boat and I are fine, with just a couple of long gone bruises for me. This was a learning experience, and I am happy to have figured out what caused the chaos. I will be more watchful for rips when seeing them mentioned or on a chart/map. The situation that causes the confused seas is the intersection of two forces from different directions, such as tides, or it can happen when the land under the water suddenly becomes more shallow, leaving no room for all the water intersecting. I find them up north here when the tides come inside a passage from both directions.

Meanwhile, I hope someone figures out a way to keep the kitchen doors and drawers closed when in rough weather. That is a distraction that someone at Ranger can hopefully eliminate somehow 🙂

Anne
 
Anne's Latest as she makes her way south through BC

I awoke to find 2 boats gone and by the time I raised the anchor the other had also left. I found the fuel dock and waited to top off my fuel since the attendant was on a break. In the meantime I decided not to follow my plan to visit Fiordland because of the inability to see the fiords in this weather!

After fueling I headed out, planning to angle to the southeast. It took very few minutes to get turned around. I am so glad to have practiced AND to be running 2 different navigation programs. There is an intersection there with 5 choices, and Garmin names an island and not list the waterways.

At the same time the depth finder seemed way off then started flashing. Garmin lists the depth hundreds of feet more than Navionics does outside of Hartley Bay. It took a bit, but I figured out the numbers on the depth sounder were quite close with those on Navionics, so when I turned away because it was not deep enough, I became turned the wrong way and was about to enter the wrong channel.

Using autopilot was the solution for staying with the heading, and even then I had to be careful because there are a number of turn offs in the route towards Shearwater, and I kept checking both screens and looking ahead in the Marine Atlas also. I learned again that I get confused very quickly in fog.

I could have stayed at Hartley Bay and programmed where I was going, but that seldom fits my style. I chose to drive along and if the fog lifted I might go one place and if not, another.

I also recalled being very exhausted the time I practiced. This time was so much easier, and with autopilot, radar, AIS, two Chartplotters, The Marine Atlas and 2 guidebooks, I was confident that I would figure out where I might want to stop when I was getting tired.

I find it overwhelming at times with all the equipment and information. It is getting better, but until very recently none of this equipment existed, and there are times when I think it would be less confusing and I would become more competent without it. (Just don't take it away yet, because the crutches can make the journey easier.)

The fog was extremely thick and when I noticed a boat a ways off coming towards me, I used the VHF to radio and report I was heading towards the boat but will move to my starboard. The other pilot asked me to switch channels then said he would be on the lookout and asked the size of my vessel. When I reported it was a 29' Ranger Tug he started to chat about the boat.

As he spoke, he asked questions about where I was headed. I learned he and his wife are going to be at Shearwater in a few days. When he learned I was solo he invited me to travel with them across the open waters near Cape Caution. So, I expect to either connect with the Barbara Ann crew or these folks, perhaps both, or even others at Shearwater. Lots of folks fuel up there, and it is just a day (or more) to be near Cape Caution where most boaters want to be ready to leave at first light if the forecast is positive.

Back to the fog and rain. I am not comfortable driving down the middle of any channel, and notice fishermen, whom I saw a few of Sunday, seem to drive like on a roadway, staying to their right, but not hugging the coastline like paddlers tend to do.

I saw more boats in the fog and rain on Monday than probably on any other travel day so far. There were 2 different tugs pulling double barges, a BC Ferry, a giant cruise ship on that route, and some fishing boats, plus 2 other pleasure boats. The large boats felt gigantic and somewhat eerie in the fog. I thought of the natives when the Spanish and British sailing boats showed up, quite possibly also on foggy, rainy days.

By the time I reached the turn at the north end of Sarah Island, the rain had stopped and the fog had been gradually lifting. I had taken a few photos of ships in the fog, but now began taking some of the surroundings, which are beautiful.

I crossed to the far side of Finlayson Channel since I was going to go into Jackson Pass, and noticed there was a tug coming out of a fog bank further south. That was the second tug of the day, and both were coming through thick fog, pulling barges behind.

By this time the light was dropping faster than I wanted, just like every evening. There were many birds in Jackson Pass and I kept wanting to zoom in and get close ups so I could figure out later what I was seeing.

I chose to drop anchor in a tiny little bay immediately before the Narrows which fits my goal of staying at new anchorages on the way south. I was convinced I would see some new birds or wildlife at this spot, but did not. It was a quiet and peaceful night there and in the morning I kept looking for anything on shore that moved, but no luck. Fortunately the weather looked like the rain and fog were truly gone, which bode well for another great day to see living creatures.

TUESDAY August 19, 2014, A Day With A Mystery

The narrows were fine, and soon I was out in Mathieson Channel, enjoying the day when I noticed the telltale black lump ahead. I immediately stopped the engine, picked up the camera and stepped up to the pilot door when I saw the tail going down. I wish these whales were more sociable! I waited around on the front deck for quite a while. A fishing boat zoomed by and I decided to go back into the cabin when once again I saw a fluke descending quite far behind the boat, closer to where the fishing boat passed.

The sky was so blue and fresh-looking, the trees were various shades of green and fish were jumping as the day progressed. I decided to stay in Mathieson Channel since it was such a wonderful day and skip Reid Passage, the protected route. The swells were rhythmic and I loved looking out and seeing water as far as my eyes could see. I noticed a large yacht that was crossing in front of me in Seaforth Channel. It had probably been in Laredo Channel. As I continued towards Seaforth Channel an even larger boat entered from the other side of Seaforth, going from my left to right, similar to the brand new boat that sank while being launched in Anacortes a couple of months ago. It was high above the water, somewhat similar to a Nordhaven, and built for ocean travel.

By now I was entering the Channel, and I slowed to look at this strangely shaped spy plane type "vehicle." It was in the water a ways behind the large boat I just described. It did not appear to belong in the water, and looked like it might be a futuristic or military type vehicle that skims above the water perhaps, but was riding on the water currently.

It was very sleek and aerodynamic, long and low, dark-colored, yet as I got closer it seemed shiny, with a deep green metallic-looking finish, and appeared "stealth," with no way to see inside or find anyone to wave to. I saw no name on it, and wondered how it could it be enjoyable to be without clear windows wide open on such a beautiful blue-sky day?

There has to be a story about this boat, and what brings it here? Hmm...

After turning Into Seaforth Channel, I noticed quite a few people out fishing in a variety of private boats, not the commercial fishermen I have become accustomed to this summer. These folks were happy to wave, especially the kids aboard!

Eleven miles later, as I recall, I was at the turnoff to Bella Bella and Shearwater. I headed on to Shearwater for fuel and was delighted to find out more about the mysterious boat. The fuel attendant had photocopied an article about that boat, because a call had come in asking about coming for fuel, and that will be quite an event. The boat had not yet stopped, but everyone there will be watching for it.

If interested, look up Wally 118. The boat is 118 ft. long, made in Europe of carbon fiber and wind tunnel tested by Ferrari. The cruising speed is supposedly 70 mph, and it has 17,000 horsepower.

I copied that info down, and wonder if those figures are accurate or if I made some errors? I can't imagine that much horsepower, nor going that fast with wind and waves and in such rocky waters. I am curious to learn more about why such a boat, which is hopefully beyond "money can buy anything..."

Anne
 
Anne's Latest:

Tuesday, after seeing the most unusual boat imaginable, the Wally 118, I headed for Roscoe Inlet, 2+ hours northeast of Shearwater. It was another beautiful journey filled with tree covered hills, then mountains, along a wide and smooth waterway on this blue-sky day.

Since I expected to see at least 1 if not 2 boat crews Thursday evening in Shearwater, I had over 48 hours for this adventure before planning our trip through Queen Charlotte Strait, which is the second of the two open ocean crossings heading south to WA.

I had read about how beautiful the area is with steep granite walls, many reminiscent of Yosemite, and have been eager to visit ever since. My son summited Half Dome while in college and I love the sheer beauty and size of rock faces over 3,000 ft. high, with rounded tops that have been ground smooth since the Ice Age.

Right after entering the area I noticed a familiar looking large black section of a whale's back, only this time there were multiple birds chasing, diving and making lots of noise right there. I wondered if the whale might have chased some krill up from lower waters, because many birds were flying and then suddenly diving/dipping and apparently getting something they were after. The humpback whale did it's dive and the birds kept vocalizing and diving, each demanding a constantly changing special spot.

I would love a slow-action replay button that I might push to better see the action. It appeared and sounded fast and furious in that "bird scrum!"

These birds were a textbook example of contagion: a few would take off in one direction and swoop down to right above the water, then 20 or more would make a racket while racing over from various directions to see what was there. For a while I wondered if they were guessing where the whale was going to be chasing more edible creatures to the surface. I have no idea why these particular birds were so hyper, so ready to get in each other's way rushing from one location to another. It was the first time I have seen that many birds chasing around, helter-skelter. One more curiosity for the day 🙂

I looked around in all directions from the boat deck, hoping for the whale, but was watching the sky also, and thinking I might anchor in a nearby cove and watch the light change the color of the water and everything else as evening descended. Once inside Clatse Bay I noticed it also hosted quite a few birds, but they were quietly sitting on logs along the shore, in contrast to those I recently left. Hyper, calm. Calm, hyper. What a difference...

I drove to the end of the bay, anchored, ate dinner and watched the changing sky and water. Peacefulness in all quarters.

No stars, but fog drifted in, then morning opened with clouds but no fog, then gradually clearing. As I looked around, checking for animals, marine life and birds, I decided it was time to review the charts and guidebook, then get underway. When the anchor came up, it was maybe 9 am, time to see what was ahead.

It was calm out in the area that was so full of raucous bird talk yesterday, and nary a gull nor sea bird was in sight. It was so still I took some photos of reflections of trees in the water.

Next up was another cove, and maybe there were things happening inside, so Cascadia took us in to the edge of the shallows. There were plenty of quiet birds floating around, some fish jumping, and a trickle of water coming in where the chart Iisted a waterfall.

I noticed 3 birds near shore shaped like grebes, with necks that seemed orange. Once again I tried to get photos, but was unable to. I am deciding maybe there is a reason many people enjoy bird watching instead of bird photographing, and take the same approach with whales and other highly active creatures 🙂

Next up was Roscoe Narrows, which felt like entering the inner Throne Room. There is a large variety of stone walls, including some that have cracks that trees have managed to grow along, while others are fortunate to imagine a hand hold here and there. The walls are so high and then there is a visual break, and further back comes what some might imagine a perfect ski bowl with or without the trees.

Winding along on the water evokes wonder, curve after curve. This final section seems to grow higher and higher, as the boat slowly slips along the serpentine channel. In one area I notice two sailboats gliding past, carrying the only humans I see in the 2 days I spend in Roscoe Inlet. Wednesday I anchor at the "bitter end" close to shore as the guidebook suggests, and swim a bit as is also recommended. The tall mountains block the magical evening light I so enjoy on the water, so I quickly decide to retrace my trail, taking photos when finding evening light. Dusk was appearing when the Narrows appeared, so I turned right while exiting, and quietly glided forward in Boukind Bay, noticing the silhouettes of the two sailboats at the end.

Down went the anchor, holding easily as the light continued to retreat, and the beautiful day retreated into darkness.

When morning came I lingered quietly for several hours, then slipped out to slowly begin the journey south to Shearwater.

Arriving there I topped off the fuel, then moved to the dock to pick up a few items at the small grocery. Quite a few folks walked by, commenting on Cascadia. Then I moved off the dock and headed out to anchor, where I discovered the Canadians, so went over to say hi. They had been calling on the radio to connect, but I had turned it off.

Another lesson: leave the VHF on when trying to connect, especially with those in a boat you have only seen in dense fog!

All was resolved over a dinner with very fresh salmon caught 2 hours earlier. Plans were made to be underway at 7 am Friday.

Anne
 
Anne continues South

Friday, August 22nd, our anchors are up before 7 am and I follow a 60 ft. boat driven by Dr. Bob, a naturopath physician from the Vancouver area, and his crew, Robin and Bill, 2 friends living in Kitamat. At dinner last evening I discovered these new friends are vegan, but do eat fresh fish when they catch it like today. Our Anacortes friends will be fishing on the way and join us later.

I don't believe I have eaten much with vegans or have friends with very serious food allergies. Today I was learning more about studies that have been done about dairy products and now am less concerned that my grandkids are not big milk drinkers. As a major dairy consumer, I expect I will be doing more reading including studies about dairy products, especially since I am a large consumer of most dairy products. Once again a new topic I want to read about.

Tonight is another potluck and those out fishing will provide fish. It continually amazes me how the fish (now) seem abundant in BC and Alaska (again.) The other 7 at dinner tonight all fish, or used to, and know quite a bit about the various species, seasons, places, depths and habits for each species, etc. as well as shellfish. I am quite uninformed but now becoming interested in learning more.

Several mentioned they have had very close encounters with the enormous humpback whales up here in northern BC that sounded intimidating. I have never heard of anything similar with dolphins and their cousins, orcas.

Meanwhile my deviled eggs are welcomed for tonight and now I need to figure what other kinds of food I have aboard that I can contribute to the next potluck. (I am now noticing how many dairy, carbs and sugar products are aboard Cascadia.)

These past two days have been very leisurely, since we traveled few miles. Both days we have started out early, to avoid building winds. Friday we traveled to a fully protected bay that has an entrance off of Hakai Passage as well as one off of Fitzhugh Sound, both of which are on direct paths to Queen Charlotte Sound, and therefore often impacted by wind/fog. Friday it was waves and Saturday fog that challenged us.

Friday night we stayed overnight in Pruth Bay, the one with two entrances. We had wifi access close to the head of the bay courtesy of the Hakai Beach Institute, and also used their dingy dock for access to a very rare sand beach on the ocean-facing shore a short walk away. At the dinghy dock we joined with Joyce and Dave, Canadian friends of Bob who live in Bowser, on Vancouver Island.

We walked to the beach together and it was delightful to see a beautiful sand beach! I left a small shoulder-type bag alongside my jacket and shoes on a large log, along with the others who left jackets and sandals/shoes. When we returned, I was unable to find my small blue lightweight bag. Bill walked around and was about 5 feet on the other side of the large log, when he noticed a few of my boat cards, then a small notepad, a few quarters, and a pen. I then noticed the water bottle close by my shoes and Bill asked what else was missing. I said just the small pack, and then we spotted the bag, almost completely covered with sand.

I put on my shoes, as the others were leaving. For some reason I suddenly remembered I had stuck in 7 individually wrapped granola type bars to share. Bill looked again and discovered one piece of shiny lightweight foil wrapper. The guess was a raccoon or a mouse had smelled the food and gotten it. I did not think any more about it as I gathered up my stuff and headed off.

Later, after getting back to the boat and cleaning off the sand from my shoes I picked up the bag. Sand was everywhere, even in the small zipper section where I carry a small notepad, pen, boat cards and a few quarters. As I cleaned the bag I noticed two puncture marks that did not penetrate through the ripstop nylon, which pleased me.

Suddenly..."How did the creature get everything out of the zippered bag as well as the very small zippered compartment, Anne?"

"Wow, great question. I have no idea. I use two hands on zippers and I have opposable thumbs."

I still find it hard to believe that an animal was able to do that, and then take off with the rest of the bars. Bill and his wife have done a great deal of kayaking around Canadian shorelines and the Gulf Islands and they were not shocked. I have kayaked on a number of week-long trips on the west side of Vancouver Island and recall now that we used very sturdy bags that we closed by rolling and then snapped them closed. Perhaps I do underestimate what critters can do!

Saturday Dave, a retired pilot, skillfully guided us through the fog, which was very challenging, including the presence of a tug pulling a long barge, and 3 gillnetter boats which were crossing into our route and traveling somewhat abreast.

Dave radioed us that he was slowing until they passed. Soon after that several very small fishing boats, probably from a nearby fishing resort, did not show up on our radar and despite the fog, scooted between 2 of our boats, which was very disconcerting. I noticed 3 boats traveling in single file along the shore and was very happy they were not getting into the mix.

Saturday night, and now Sunday night, we are staying in Fury Cove, another beautiful bay that hosted 11 boats Friday night. Both spots are fairly close to where we begin the open water stretch, so are very popular, either for recovering from the long trip or resting up for it. The trip is long, especially those who travel at trawler speed or sailboats that are motoring. Of course fog and winds, which are the norm, slow all boats. Fog often burns off by noon, and that generally leads to the winds/waves picking up.

I heard a number of people on the docks in Alaska saying they wanted to avoid the fog so plan to be south by early August, sometimes called Fogust. I also learned that quite a few NW boaters like to leave for Alaska early in May, and Alaskans told me May is usually a nice month, not as wet as June. I have read and have heard boaters say that August is the time to be in the Broughtons or Desolation Sound. Very few boaters seemed to be there in early June.

This afternoon I watched 2 paddlers in a double kayak enter our bay and was very eager to chat with them. After I got my small kayak off the roof of Cascadia I paddled over and met them. Sasha and Jerry are from Canmore BC, near Banff. They drove from their home then ferried to Bella Bella, a native community which is next to Shearwater, where we left early Friday morning. They got here in 5 days, and had to cross Fitzhugh Sound in total fog, which is mentally and physically challenging.

They are paddling to Port Hardy, which is very close by here, so they will come around Cape Caution, hugging the coast somewhat, while staying offshore enough to not be pushed or pulled into the rocks. Then they will cross over here to Vancouver Island, using islands for campsites. That section of their trip will be over 100 miles.

I learned they have paddled the coast of Labrador, I believe, along the Atlantic, and they seem like strong paddlers who have high gear when needed. What a marvelous way to travel in such beautiful country! No need to purchase fuel. Their food is the fuel!

Last summer was by all reports sunnier and drier than the usual summer in Alaska. This summer I was there from mid June through mid August and the locals reported this was much wetter than usual. It was definitely very wet in my mind, yet still a wonderful two months.

We had a mostly dry trip through BC beginning June 1, and now this return trip has been very dry so far also. No wonder so many boaters love to boat in BC every summer.

Tomorrow our current 4 boats are going to split, with 2 going through the Broughtons, so will travel the mainland coast, and the two boats from Anacortes are going to Port McNeil then down the east side of Johnstone Strait. I want to see the more direct route south of Port McNeill, including Johnstone Strait that has narrows and winds that can be challenging. Narrows need to be traveled at or around slack, and winds can require waiting for better weather, or leaving very early in some cases. On the trip north, it did not seem we went thru three narrows because of the timing. Some day I want to be onshore watching rapids when they are not safe and see what we miss because we go at slack, when it is safe.

As this time in northern BC will end tomorrow, I am recalling that wherever we go in BC waters, coastlines and islands are beautiful and welcoming. Water usage is generally restricted, electrical service can be $18.00 per night and fuel is more expensive than we Americans are used to, but the locals share their huge playgrounds with us and are very friendly.

The further south we go, the more boats we see, and more places are accessible for many more people to enjoy!

I am grateful to have traveled through many areas this summer of 2014 that some might describe as "still wild." To me those areas often brought profound peacefulness.
Wilderness, or whatever word(s) we use, is such a treasure.

Anne
 
Another Update from Anne

Five boats left together at 6 am, Monday, which was first light. How different from the trip up, when we left Prince Rupert at 4 am in early June and had calm seas and no fog.

We knew it was going to be foggy and we could see somewhat until we got close to Egg Island. Then I found myself practically tailgating Chris and Perry whom I was very grateful to be following. Every time I moved my eyes to the chartplotter or anywhere, it seemed very challenging to then find their boat ahead of me. I could not tell if it was turning or I was looking at the side or the stern. With quite a bit of debris in the water it felt a wee bit hectic but so much easier to be following. (Thank you so much, Perry and Chris!)

The general condition of the seas was good. The swells were just that, and eventually the fog thinned a bit as we were about 4 miles north of Pine Island, but then it thickened a mile later as we became closer to to offshore islands near Vancouver Island.

Today Perry chose to travel south between Vancouver Island and some coastal islands, entering south of Hope Island, which took us out of the swells for quite a while. The marine layer is present, the air is cool, and currently he is fishing along some islands near Port Hardy for a bit. As soon as I turned off the engine Cascadia quickly turned and is now rocking in the swells.

About an hour ago, while in Goletas Sound, several porpoises came racing alongside and criss-crossed in front of the bow. I had heard they love to ride the boat swells, but in my mind I switched the location they ride from the bow to the stern, and when I saw them I was concerned I might hit them. I was not sure what to do so I opened the pilot door and watched them, then looked for them behind the boat and back they raced alongside up to the front and into the bow waves. They are amazingly fast and graceful!

Chris called ahead for reservations at Port McNeill, so we stopped there, to fuel up, add water, and pick up some perishables at the grocery, which is a nice walk from the dock. There is a garbage dumpster which is always helpful after anchoring out so much.

This evening we will listen to the forecast, as boaters always do, and then I will listen to Chris and Perry who will no doubt share what they are thinking works best with the forecast. They are both very good at explaining, so I expect to learn more about how to make good decisions about routes using the weather as a guide.

The other 4 boats decided to stay on the east side of Queen Charlotte Strait and go to Sullivan Bay Marina for water, fuel and dinner. We may/may not see them again. Weather and whim seem to both carry influence when vacationing on a boat.

Currently I almost dozed off then noticed the boat had disappeared from along the island. We proceed south and the water is unusually calm for this large body of water. It also has a large amount of vegetation in the water and I need to carefully check and be sure to clean the strainer if needed, and then open the water valve!

Johnstone Strait has strong wind today and apparently will for the next few days. I am curious how we will work with that. Traveling at slack will not be the issue that 25 knot winds will be, because there is no specific time such as slack for wind, although night and early morning are always calmer if I recall.

As we move towards our destination Perry fishes more while I keep trying to get a clear photo of a murrelet. There are many in the sea and they impress me with their tiny size compared to other water fowl around them. They keep moving away no matter how I scheme to get close enough.

Today the sky has been covered with fog and low clouds, although the cloud cover has risen some. The clouds remind me of pewter, a shade of gray that seems genuine, nothing fancy. That affects the appearance of the water, which is not easy for me to describe. The water glistens, even with a gray sky on this calm afternoon a bit north of Port McNeill.

LATER

Our boats are fueled, tied to the dock, and 12 hours after rising, here we are, safely across the very foggy crossing, with 91 more miles on this fine engine.

Later, after a delicious dinner on their boat I mentioned to Perry that my hydraulic lift is not working well enough for me to climb down and comfortably check my fluids. He came over and quickly diagnosed that there was not enough fluid. He asked me what Ranger uses and I don't know. I could look in the manuals, but decided to wait till morning.

Chris has Verizon service, and I asked her if I might use her phone to call Ronnie and she graciously said yes. He was unavailable so I called Kenny, who was out. Ivan took the call and said that I (we) needed to be sure the trim tabs were not in the forward position, because they share the same fluid and (system?) and if the container is filled too much it will end up making a big mess in the engine compartment.

The Ranger Team helps again!!!!

That was the solution, and now Perry marked the see thru fluid container, accessed through the starboard floor storage, with a permanent marker, so now I know how full to fill it IF I have the trim tabs in the up position and need to add the fluid. One more new and useful thing I have now learned on this trip!

Thank you Ronnie, who called back, and Ivan, and the rest of the Ranger Tug team.

We are headed out now and I expect to wander about in BC, south of Johnstone Strait, until the Ranger Rendezvous Sept. 4th at Roche Harbor, then back to Cap Sante Sept. 7th.

I am not planning to be anchoring, so may not connect much if at all, but who knows?

Anne, August 26th
 
Below is Anne's final installment of her wonderful adventure. We were privilaged to see Anne while we were in Ganges making our way north to Princess Louisa.

Anne was kind enough to join us for dinner and to share small pieces of her story with us. She is an amazing woman with an incredible amount of courage.

Thank you Anne for sharing such a great adventure with all of us!

David and Maureen


The grand Alaska adventure is officially over; I am in the San Juan Islands of Washington!

September 1st I docked at Friday Harbor and cleared US Customs. I am back in familiar haunts, islands I have camped on, bicycled around and paddled amongst with my daughter and son and A variety of friends.

It feels very good to see familiar places and a few familiar faces, including Jim and Joan and Willie and Herb, with many more to come!

To complete the travelogue...

I left Comox, on Vancouver Island, mid-morning Friday August 29th after posting the previous email and heeding the forecast for the morning winds dropping.

After returning to the Strait of Georgia, over 110 miles long and averaging 20 miles wide, I was delighted to be in calm water, and briefly toyed with the idea of running at 80% of max power because everyone who travels there knows the winds will be coming and building. Although I decided to keep to my normal speed of 7-8 knots, I planned to see everything I could while heading south with no fog and no area off limits for military activity.

When I was approaching the Ballenas Islands, where we often turn west when coming from from the south to go east across the Strait (when the military has closed Whiskey Golf for torpedo practice) I had a close encounter with a boat, "theoretically" driven by someone.

I was enjoying the north and east sides of N. Ballenas. I was using autopilot and was sitting because the water was not as demanding as usual. While noticing houses onshore, perhaps at Parksville, and seeing Lasqueti Island, I was also watching the water ahead and both chartplotters.

I noticed on my starboard side there was a boat coming out from behind N Ballenas Island with a trail of whitewater behind it. The boat kept coming closer and did not adjust direction. I was surprised and reached for the horn, which I must not have pushed properly. I was focusing on turning to my starboard and slowing which quickly occupied both hands. I tried the horn again but by then it didn't matter that it didn't sound. That boat, moving very fast, staying on the exact same course and was quickly past me. I saw no one in the cabin or up in the enclosed bridge. As I looked behind I observed the same straight line and white spray while the boat was disappearing.

There were no other boats within sight. In hindsight I wonder if I should have been on the radio calling? My first reaction was surprise and then my focus was on driving defensively.

As an aside, the boat did not have AIS which shows on the Garmin chartplotter.

I do not believe this was a case of who had the right of way as much as the boat was moving at a high rate of speed with no visible person watching. I hope that is an extremely rare occurrence since it is so dangerous.

Moving forward, as I continued south on Georgia Strait waves began to appear. I checked the time then checked Ports and Passes for Dodd Narrows as I was getting close to Nanaimo. I learned I would miss the window to traverse them, but no worries, Georgia Strait was still ok with me.

I had received an email earlier in the morning that a couple I have boated with were going to be at Ganges that evening so that was now a place I was considering stopping, depending on how the day went. The Cabbage Islands, with great sunset views had been on my list also, as was Montague. Since it was Friday afternoon on a 3 day weekend I knew mooring buoys and dock spaces would be full.

I needed to travel west to reach Ganges or Montague so checked the book for Portlier Pass and Active Pass, both of which are further south. Active Pass is what the ferries use, so even though the tide is less of an issue, large ferries in passes take up lots of room. Portlier might be a bit tricky given the timing.

After a while waves were building with spray onto the windows with each wave as I continued south. I decided to go and look at Portlier Pass after checking again where it was in the tide cycle. Slack is always the best, but it seemed doable. I checked the marked route on both chartplotters and while watching the pass, a small boat started across from the inside, following the recommended route most of the way.

After reviewing the route again, seeing small standing waves but nothing more, and seeing another boat was starting across from inside, I decided to go, and focused on staying on the route marked on the chartplotters. I was confident because I have had practice in similar situations this summer in BC and Alaska.

For me, confidence built on experience focused me so that there was not room to second guess myself, which can become crippling.

Portlier is a short pass, and that also helped. Cascadia crossed over and then we headed south again, paralleling where we had been traveling. The winds were causing waves from the south inside also, but they were not as large and were steady and straight forward. I proceeded onward to Ganges, finding an amazing amount of boats anchored out. I was unable to raise my friends on VHF so began moving slowly among the anchored boats. Soon I saw 3 anchored together, and recognized 2 of the 3 boats by sight and the 3rd by name.

David waved me over, told me to set up my fenders and lines and then to come alongside. He and Jorge tied my lines. After climbing aboard I could hardly speak.

There were 8 people that I knew!

I had not realized how wonderful it would feel to be back in the Canadian Gulf Islands and to see friends whom I had traveled with to Desolation Sound, friends who helped me get way up there and back the very first time!

They welcomed me back and shared a delicious dinner. Afterwards David asked Patrick, who lives there, to get on Cascadia with me and help me anchor in the dark. I was very tired after driving so long and Patrick gave me calm and clear directions, as always, so that we were able to anchor safely and quickly in sticky clay.

Lyman picked up Patrick in his dinghy and the next thing I knew it was Saturday morning and the 3 boats were gone.

I spent the weekend there in shallow Ganges Bay, along with very many other vessels, dancing in the wind and waves while sleeping and dozing much of the time.

Now I am back in WA, 93 days after starting out, after driving @ 2700 nautical miles.

I never got to first base with my earlier dream of paddling to Alaska 22 years earlier when friends introduced me to kayaking. It took more skill, strength and stamina than I ever developed.

Selling my home 2 years ago and becoming a liveaboard presented a different way to imagine getting there. The Waggoner team provided me the opportunity to learn more about what I needed to do, plus a guide and small group to travel with to Ketchikan. With financial help from my family, my dream turned into quite an adventure.

FROM KETCHIKAN FORWARD

I lost my nerve in Ketchikan when unable to find others to travel with.

Rick, a member of the Sitka Coast Guard Auxiliary emailed that I MUST move beyond Ketchikan to see the real Alaska. Some of you wrote words of encouragement, which really helped 🙂

Then Janice and Ron, in a quite small sailboat, said I could travel WITH THEM, and provided sunlight! Their support got me going on by myself from Wrangell forward.

Fred, a gentleman I met on the dock in Wrangell, told me I COULD boat to Sitka, so I did. Rick, the Aux member, found me a weather window that I could use to travel along Frederick Sound and across Chatham Strait, and checked with me on VHF to be sure I made it.

Joe and Carol welcomed me to Sitka and helped me get out into the ocean there and to see tiny puffins in the wild.

A Dockmaster at Ketchikan coached me on how and when he would get across Dixon Entrance and into Prince Rupert by noon the next day, which I did and it worked perfectly.

While traveling in dense fog and alerting an oncoming boat where I was, I connected with Bob, and a few days later met and traveled with his team for a couple of days. Then I met Chris and Perry and traveled south with them for 3 days, crossing from Cape Caution to Port McNeill on Vancouver Island then south on Johnstone Strait thru Seymour Narrows.

If you really want to boat to Alaska, perhaps you can also.

Traveling up north provides the opportunity to connect with others quickly, sharing a love for exploring, living more closely with the sea, the mountains, the weather and wide open spaces.

The beauty of those huge vistas and the warmth of individuals are a wonderful combination, and as you see, there is a way to get to Alaska and back for many of us who have lived quite a few decades!

The fuel bill was very large, a bit over $5,000. and there is no way around that. My family paid for my fuel, and encouraged me to get out there and see places that interested me.

For me 3 months was ideal, and I can understand why people go back for several summers if possible. I was delighted to find couples who have been going up north for years, and still can. Some boaters have family members join them for a week here or there.

If you want to go, and need encouragement, talk with any of us fortunate enough to have boated to Alaska!

Anne
 
Anne:

I'm glad you're back safe and sound. What a great adventure you've had... Congratulations.

David & Maureen are to be commended for relaying all your 'adventure' words.

Your last posting reminds of at least two crossings we've made across the Georgia Strait. One was with Bob & Nina on their R-29 going from Gibsons over to eventually Portlier Pass. We were heading at first due west but Bob decided to head more southerly to make the ride a bit more comfortable for us both, so we headed for Portlier Pass. It was really our first experience of rough water in the open seas. Although exciting for me it was kind of rough and I learned how well the R-25 handled in such conditions. The second time we were on our own traveling due south on the west side of the Straits. Just south of Hornby Island the waves suddenly turned into monstrous sizes with the wind howling at me, and as I was traveling at around 14 knots, I had to dial back my speed in a hurry to avoid slapping noises. It was scary and I wanted to be safe and sound docked at Nanaimo ASAP.

If and when we met up again I'd love for you to detail a map for me showing your route up and back. I've made one for myself after reading all your notes, but would like confirmation from you as well as listening to all you have to say about the Waggoners flotilla experience.

I received Email from Waggoner last week detailing what they are offering for 2015. I believe I've lined up my daughter who lives in San Francisco to accompany me and share some of the cost. Gill unfortunately simply cannot make such a long trip and would stay behind. 🙁 On an R-25 I suspect 3 people max would be the limit for the trip to Alaska, right ? If I can get 3 people together including myself the shared cost will make it more affordable. Then again, if by some miracle I can manage to upgrade to a R-29 (Classic) or even the spanking new R-29 maybe 4 people could make the trip together.

Again.... thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts and adventures with the TugNuts. 🙂
 
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