Bay of Pillars: Part one

 

As Ruthie Jeanne moved out of the Southern Chatham Strait into the Bay of Pillars, we saw a big lodge just inside the entrance. According to our navigational info, the owner of the lodge will occasionally contacts boaters passing by via VHF and ask if they’d like to chat and take a tour of his property. I slowed as we passed the lodge hoping we’d get a call on the VHF, but none came. A little disappointed, we moved on.

The Bay of Pillars was so named because of its steepled rocks pillars, like someone stuck them upright into the bottom of the bay. Often times there is a clue on the depth sounder of the bottom beginning to rise so there is ample time to slow, stop or avoid a shoal or unexpected rocky area. On a marine chart, with due diligence, it’s easy to set the boat’s course to navigate around such areas. But in the Bay of Pillars there was a caution on the charts to look out for “uncharted obstructions”, like the pillars. Slowing as we entered this area, Terry was on the bow, watching for any obstacles in our path.  

We navigated through the ½ mile long narrow pass, some area only 40 or 50 feet wide. It was a little hair raising at times. Then it opened up into a big land locked body of water 3 miles long and 2 miles wide. This was our first trip through this area so everything was new. We didn’t have the luxury of prior experience to help us through the narrows. Piloting back out to the entrance a couple days later was a piece of cake.

Big Bay after navigating the skinny entrance.  Beautiful place.

When we first entered the big bay, we spotted 50 or more sea otters, some with pups perched on the stomachs. A group of sea otters is called a colony or raft. When we saw all of them together is looked like one big raft. These creatures are so cute and so endearingly playful I could watch them all day. However, as I mentioned before the otters have wreaked havoc on the marine environment of many bays, coves, and inlets in SE Alaska.

Our personal experience was this: in the areas we anchored where there were otters, we didn’t catch any fish, clams or crab. Our walks on the beach where there were literally hundreds of thousands of clam shells, we found no live clams. The evidence of the otters destructive digging was plain to see, as there were divots in the beach about the size of a medium to large bowls as far as the eye could see. When an otter digs a clam, they store a rock in a pouch underneath their arm. It lays the clam on its stomach and uses the rock to crack open mollusks and clams. Pretty clever for a sea otter.

Not a great photo, but hey, it's only an iPhone. 

At the other end of the big bay, we entered a small cove where there was more protection from the wind and waves that existed in the larger bay. Over the next couple of days, we observed a young male moose with a tiny rack and spindly legs, and later 3 females walking together down the beach. They were munching on bushes and small trees. We never observed them grazing on shrubs or grass along the ground. Each of them stared at us for a long while, probably wondering if we were a menace or just harmless gawkers.

Another not so great picture. No those aren't horses.  

When anchored and settled in, we noticed white jellyfish all over the cove. Their sizes were as small as a baseball and as big as a bowling ball, slowing moving along with whatever current there was in the cove. They were relaxing to watch as they did their slow dance through the water. 

(According to ScubaNews the Alaskan jellies are Moon Jellyfish. They use long harpoon-like tenacles to sting prey and feed on planktonic fish and invertebrates. A group of jellies is identified as a smack and the group can number in the thousands. Fun fact: Jellyfish are edible. (Yuck) They can be prepared many ways, including drying and then shredded or sliced thinly and tossed with sugar, soy sauce, or oil and vinegar for a salad.)

Hope all is well with you.

Ed Out.