Tokyo Transit

Our plane landed in Tokyo Narita Airport, which is 1 1/2 hours away from Tokyo, so that’s kind of a misnomer. We took the train, which is pretty much the easiest and most convenient way to get to Tokyo proper and our hotel.  Easy is relative, however, after an 11 hour flight my brain was functioning at a level between a highly tuned biological machine and a bowl of potato salad. Good thing Moon was there to save us both. 

We checked into Park Hotel Tokyo which is on the 25 to 34 floors of executive office building, There seems to be quite a few hotels that take up space in offices building here. The Park’s claim to fame? They present the works of Japanese based artists on every wall, table and open space. They even hand over some of the rooms to artist so they can create art, whether it’s a painting or sculpture or whatever the process is for them. It’s like staying in a museum except the price of admission is a bit more than your average entrance price to MOMA. It was a delight, every day. 

Tokyo ranked 3rd best transit metropolis in the world with its abundance of trains, subways and buses. Getting to the correct train or subway platform can be a bit daunting. A passenger must navigate a labyrinth of tunnels, hallways, platforms, gates, stairs, escalators, and elevators. All this is hodgepodged together and intertwined on seven different levels, 4 floors below ground and 3 floors above. It’s complicated and always busy. We’ll have it down pat just about the time we’re ready to leave Tokyo.

Everybody dresses in black here so colorful attire is a no go. Occasionally a dark gray or dark green is seen but they would be an outlier from the norm. I left my aloha shirts in the closet. When looking out over the sea of humanity in the train or subway station it looks much like everyone just came back from a funeral or they’re headed to one. And in those stations the majority of them are looking, head down, at their iPhones. According to the Tokyo travel guide 5.98 million people use the transit system every day. With so many folks looking at their phones while going this way and that, it seems impossible there wouldn’t be passenger pileups or people crashiing into each other, somewhere…but no. While they’re perusing the internet or texting maybe a little sonar/radar avoidance app pops up an alert telling them to alter their course. Or maybe they’re all just intuitive, like a murmuration of starlings, each changing speed and direction in awareness of the transit community around them. Who knows?

We headed to Shibuya crossing which is supposed to be the busiest foot traffic crossing in the world. An area of shopping malls, restaurants and people watching and a big screen TV, sort of like a Times Square like atmosphere. It’s become known as the Shibuya Scramble because 24 hours per day an average of 2000 pedestrians ramble across the intersection every 2 minutes from every direction.  That’s a couple million crossings per day. That’s a lot of steps. 

A shout out to all the Japanese who helped us navigate the transit system. They made it their life’s work ensuring we got to the correct train or subway, by literally, walking us to the gate or plateform. One fellow gave us a “follow me sign” after we showed him our Google Maps. Off he went as we tried to keep up. Yesterday morning, this particular guy walked 100 yards out of his way, up some stairs to an elevator and out onto a platform, then pointed to the gate we were supposed to take. All this with a smile and a bow, like we did him a favor. This happened with other people, not just this one guy. Since it happened that often I did a little research to find out if it was common. This type of behavior is identified as Omoiyari. It is one of the core values in Japanese culture where everyone tries to make life a little easier  for others. It’s something our world could use a little more of at this point in time, that’s for sure. We were grateful for the help. 

Up and out the door at 5:00 a.m to catch the fish market auction in a massively huge building near the waterfront. Everything from the smallest shrimp to 300 pound tuna are auctioned daily. We barely got in to see the last tuna auction and should have left an hour earlier. 

Toyosu market is the center of the universe in terms of Bluefin Tuna. It’s prized here in Japan more than anywhere else in the world and they’re willing to pay dearly for it. That would be $2.

25 million dollars for a 612 pound Bluefin tuna. The tuna caught off the coast of Japan have just the right about of fat content that’s supposed to be the best tasting in the world. 

Of course, we had to have some. So at 7 o’clock in the morning we were seating at a sushi counter enjoying some of the best tasting tuna in the world. Once we had the opportunity of tasting the fish here, all others will probably pale in comparison. It was delicious.  Fun Fact: we chatted with the sushi chef who told us the knife he used to prepare our meals was purchased 40 years ago and he’s used it ever since. 

My mouth is watering even now, just thinking about this experience. 
 

I’m a cloud watching kind of guy. This picture was taken of clouds in the late afternoon hanging over the Tokyo skyline. The coloring and shading of the clouds was gorgeous. It’s going on my computer’s startup screen when I return home. 

All for now. Happy Thanksgiving to you all. 

Ed and Moon

Sent from my iPad

Leaving home

Well, we’re shedding all the responsibilities of Seattle home life after all these past month’s preparation for our trip. It’s a pretty exhilarating experience. 

We headed to our gate at SeaTac to find our trip starting with a bang. Moon and I were upgraded to first class on Alaska. So my thoughts of a quick meal or snack, a cocktail for Moon, water in those charming little eco-friendly milk cartons and a warm “thank you for flying Alaska Airlines” flew through my head. However, on a 24 minute flight from Seattle to Vancouver, a first class passenger gets a roomier seat and a smile. I could sit on a metal stool for 24 minutes and be perfectly happy, but I’m not complaining. Anyway, after takeoff we ascended to altitude for the first 15 minutes of the flight when the PA comes alive with, “our bathrooms are now locked” (Yikes!), “please bring your seat backs to their...”, you know the drill. I think the light rail from SaeTac to SoDo takes longer. But, we are finally on our way and thrilled about it all. 

After disembarking the plane and entering Vancouver International Airport it was a breeze moving through customs with our Nexus cards. We booked a room in Fairmont Hotel which is connected to the airport. It as only about a 100 yards from where we would check our luggage the next morning. The room for our one night stay overlooked the runway. There is something calming about watching the planes, large and small, come and go. It was a nice touch to our first day of traveling. 

We were hungry, so being an adventuresome lot we visited a kiosk outside of baggage claim named Japandogs. The woman manning the kiosk was hopping up and down trying to stay warm in the 40 degree weather. She didn’t seem to find the humor in my asking if she was chilly.  Her attire would have been right at home in Homer Alaska in the dead of winter. Anyway, she handed us one pork dog with onions and seaweed and an unknown special sauce and one pork dog with chopped daikon radish, these purple pickle things and some kind of mayo/wasabi concoction. When in Rome, eh’? They weren’t bad.  

Off to Japan tomorrow.  Stay tuned.  Ed out. 

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. 

Leaving Petersburg Behind

 

We left Petersburg and got a glimpse of the upper end of Le Conte Glacier, 

where we visited the day before. 

We left the Petersburg Marina and motored out into Frederick Sound, headed for a big anchorage named Thomas Bay, we could see the upper end of Le Conte Glacier as we headed west. Thomas Bay looked like a great place to get some crab.  However, we were warned by fellow boaters in Petersburg that the commercial crabbing season opened a day before so there might be slim pickings.  I chatted with a guy that used to crab commercially. His observation was that each year there were fewer and fewer crab to go around for the commercial guys. They had to “fish on top of each other”,’ meaning the pots were close together and no one could really get a prized catch. His take was that the sea otter reintroduction is killing the Dungeness crab fishery.

(After googling the topic, I found that sea otters were reintroduced to Alaska, British Columbia, and Washington in 1965 after being hunted to extinction in the 1800 and 1900s. The British, Canadians, Americans and First Nation traders were all involved in wiping out the sea otter colonies. After the reintroduction the population has come roaring back. But there are consequences to their return in the form of a marine environment becoming out of balance.  

Unfortunately, at the top of the meal menu for sea otters is Dungeness crab and their appetite is a voracious one for that particular fare. They also dine on sea urchins, gooey ducks, clams, sea cucumbers, sea stars, chitons, octopus, squid, rock scallops and mussels. They weigh 35 to 90 pounds and eat 20-30% of their body weight per day. It doesn’t take long to understand how the otter can adversely affect the environment along the shores of the bays and inlets and how it affects those in the fishing industry trying to make a living catching crab On one hand the otter was brought back from extinction, which is probably a good thing and they're now a protected species. On the other hand, they have completely depleted the marine stocks in many of the inland bays and coves. There are now studies to devise plans for mitigating their adverse effects. And that only means one thing, fewer sea otters.)

We entered Thomas Bay and noticed hundreds of crab pots. A little disappointing, but there will be one or two for us at some point because we knew there were crab in the area. It was tough finding an unobstructed spot to anchor and not tangle with the crab buoys. Our original plan was to spend two days here, but we moved on the next day in search of a more comfortable anchorage and fewer crab pots. We didn’t see otters in this bay, a little unusual.

Thomas Bay. Difficult to see but there were hundreds of pot in and 

around us. If you are looking at this on an iphone/ipad, zoom in and you'll see.

A different view when heading out of Thomas Bay. 

And did we ever hit the jackpot with the next anchorage. Off of Donkey Bay, there’s a anchorage identified as Cannery Cove. It’s nestled in a big mountainous bowl with waterfalls, steep structure, a variety of trees, sharp gullies cut by snow and runoff and snowcapped ridges. Just can’t beat the view of a lowland valley that shot straight up. One of the most beautiful place Moon and have ever seen. I took a dozen pictures in an attempt to show off this gorgeous spot but none of them did it justice. I’ll include a couple but just know I couldn’t quite capture the beauty of the place with my iPhone.

The beauty of Cannery Cove

The only down side to Cannery Cove was the dime sized horseflies. They dive bomb the unsuspected in Kevlar Armor and a nasty disposition. Their bite is worse than a mosquito but not as bad as a bee. The good news? They land like they just jumped off a 5-step porch so it’s pretty easy to know they are there, and they’re slow. The problem with whacking these pesky little buggers is they just won’t roll over and die. They have to be nailed, spot on, or the next thing you know they’re up jumping around swearing a blue streak. I had to go after them again with the fly swatter to finish the job. Unfortunately, those  pesky flies always called in reinforcements. This was a great anchorage, so taking the good with the bad is the order of the day

We left Cannery Cove and headed for Security Inlet. Along the way near a smallish islet, there were the spotted harbor seals with their elegant coats of light gray, accented with black spots, the usual black harbor seals and sea lions aplenty. As we passed this islet a humpback surprised us by rolling over near the boat. Then minutes later, like it was a slow-motion video, the whale came straight up out of the water about 8 feet with its mouth open. Probably, the huge creature got just what they wanted, a herring breakfast. And the herring were everywhere in this area so it wasn’t surprising that it supported so much of the wildlife we were able to observe.  

Mouth closed, sinking back down into the deep blue. 

We left beauty of Cannery Cove for Security Bay on Kuiu Island, (pronounced Kwee ooh). The bay’s name was kind of a misnomer because the wind blew through there like it was going to push us back to Petersburg. But the anchor was set well enough and the boat remained in one spot, swinging one way then the other. After the nauseousness from the wide swings went away, it was relaxing. This area had many small islands and islets and sea otters with their pups were everywhere. Funny, they call a group of sea otters a raft, more about that later. We would have stayed another day if it wasn’t for the wind.

3:45 a.m. in Security Bay after the winds died down and a smooth ride out into Fredric Sound. 

Up early the next day, we left at 3:45 to catch a good tide and rounded the NW side of Kuiu Island where the outgoing tide was headed south down North Chatham Strait and the water in Fredric Sound was headed west, and there the two met. And boy did they. Yikes. The meeting caused some rough and confused seas which threw us around quite a bit. I looked at Moon and said, “this wasn’t in the NOAA weather report!”. The experience made me think of the times I had many beers and got up on a mechanical bull, like the 1980’s Urban Cowboy days, up and down until I fell off. Lucky for us after a hairy ride we found calmer waters. We had a plan B and Plan C anchorage if the water was too much for us but didn’t need them. We were able to make it into the Bay of Pillars, an anchorage we were anticipating without any more circus-ride type seas.  

That’s it for now. Hope all your seas are calm. 

Ed Out

Petersburg and Le Conte Glacier

We left Wrangell on a sunny morning and headed out towards Petersburg, our most northern port on the trip. We decided against Juneau, Sitka, Skagway and other ports north of Petersburg so we wouldn’t have to hurry. Juneau is another 110 miles from here and others are farther. Constantly, moving from place to place is tiring and one anchorage starts to look that all the rest. Two- and three-day stops have been thrown in and a weather day here and there so we have the opportunity to enjoy our travels. We didn’t want to make this trip like work used to be.

Anyway, Ruthie Jeanne headed west through Sumner Strait to an open anchorage identified as Saint John Harbor, on Zarembo Island. The area around the harbor is US Forest Service land. They have a dock, so we tied up and went for a walk on a well-traveled road. A USFS truck with two passengers passed us and then we were met by a Forest Service guy who was walking to the dock. He and the other 2 guys were headed home to Petersburg and another crew would boat in to man the “administrative center” on the island. Seemed a little strange to have an admin center where the only occupants of the entire island were housed in the admin center, a total of 4 was my guess.

On our walk we noticed 5 or 6 cars by the side of the road that looked like they’d been there for a while. We asked him about the vehicles. Apparently, hunters barge them over to the island then go hunting in them. There are 48 miles of service roads around the island. When the hunters were finished  they'd leave, but the cars would stay until the next hunting seasons. They would then boat over to the island and off they would go in their vehicles on another hunt.

We had a couple of nice relaxing days there, caught 1 crab that was a keeper, and fished with no results except cornering 3 flounder in the crab trap.  We were joined by 3 other boats for the night in a calm bay. This is a stopover anchorage for boats waiting to catch the best tide up Wrangell Narrows to Petersburg since the Narrows can be a bit difficult to navigate. We left Wrangell far behind and I haven't quite figured out why they named the waterway up to Petersburg, Wrangell Narrows. It's nowhere near Wrangell. 

Our last evening in St. Johns Harbor.

Sumner Strait at 3:15 a.m. after leaving our anchorage in St. John's Harbor.

The next morning the alarm clock went off at 2:30 a.m. so the boat could be warmed up and everything stowed away. The anchor was pulled and we were on our way by 3:00 a.m. (I can't remember the last time I was up at 3:00 except to head to the bathroom.) Amazingly, it was light out at 3:00 a.m. with sunrise at 4:00 a.m. Meeting a high tide in Wrangell Narrows was important so there was enough water under us to alleviate the worry that we could bottom out. It is a relatively skinny and shallow waterway. There were plenty of buoys and range markers to keep us in the channel, one that is periodically dredged to allow for safe passage. Our map suggested we should not stray from the channel or risk mayhem to our boat’s hull.

A few fishing lodges dotted the shoreline and houses started to pop up on each shore the closer we got to Petersburg. Finally, we could see the town in the distance and were glad to pull into for a few days, close to land and somewhere to get a little exercise and do some hiking.

Petersburg Marina where they "hot birth" slips. 

The marina does something called “hot berthing”, which means the tenants leave their slip for a period of time and the Harbormaster rents out their slip while they’re gone. Unfortunately, the boat normally in our slip had a run in with a rock that poked a hole in her hull. She was taken out of the water for a fix to the fiberglass. Lucky for us because we got a slip, not so lucky for the slips tenants. Within southeast Alaska there are so many waterways and so many rocks and floating logs, that I’m always aware of what the consequences are of not paying attention. 

From the vantage point of a hike we took above the town. 

Petersburg is a great little town on Mikof Island that is surrounded by very tall snowcapped mountains and sits in the central part of the Alaska panhandle. The community prides themselves on family values, community support, and the independent Alaskan spirit. Most of the folks in Petersburg are fisherman or support the fishing industry. The fisheries include salmon, herring, halibut, black cod, and shrimp/prawns. Commercial fishing boats landed $52 million pounds of seafood last year with a value of $50 million. She ranks 20^th in the US in terms of value by catch. Not bad for a town of 3000.

Speaking of the independent spirit, here is a vending machine that usually houses food, 

pop or candy. When the marine store is closed you can get items for your chainsaw. 

Insert your credit card and get engine oil, chain oil, chain, and different types of spark 

plugs. Independence at it's best. 

The town was founded by a Norwegian immigrant named Peter Buschman, (hence, Petersburg) and is known as “Little Norway”. European explorers settled here and based their livelihood on, you guessed it, fishing, canneries, and sawmills. Icebergs from nearby La Conte Glacier provided the ice to cool the fish before canning.

This iceberg was so blue and so clear it almost didn't look real. 

Size was about 10 ft tall and 70 ft long.

Not so blue but bigger. 

They come in all shapes and sizes. 

This was a challenge for the pilot to move us closer to the glacier. 

As you can see there are thousands of little icebergs in the way.

An awesome sight up close.

Moon and I went on a 12-person tour to Le Conte Glacier with Scott and Shelly. The boat was an aluminum boat with two 400 hp jets. Wouldn't want a prop sticking down in the water with all this ice. The glacier is the southern most glacier in the northern hemisphere that calves into the sea. The bay is over 800 feet deep and is flooded with small to large icebergs. Harbor seals birth their young on some of those icebergs and we observed many of the mothers with their pups. We saw small areas calve into the water but not really anything spectacular. Not until we were about to leave did we see a huge sheet of ice the size of a building calve off sideways from the glacier.  It was so big it almost looked like it was falling in slow motion. We could hear it and feel it crash into the water and rode its wave up and down when it rolled our way. It was an awesome sight. We got our money’s worth. Seek Alaska Tours out of Petersburg is the group that leads this trip if you are ever interested.  

                                       

A mother and pup watching us closely. 

Hope you have enjoyed our travels so far. Terry took a video of a portion of the glacier calving that won't work in this blog. If you'd like us to send it to you respond with an email and we'll give it a try. That said, we're leaving tomorrow and won't be have any cell/wifi reception for another 10 or more days. We're headed for Craig, Alaska on Prince of Wales Island. If we come back to Alaska, it would be a pleasure to visit Petersburg again. 

We'll be losing some crew in Petersburg. Shelly left two days ago. She was our liaison to the folks in Petersburg and all boat people on the dock. She had her ear to the hum of the dock and passed that info on to us. She was my nemesis while we played Bananas. Scott left yesterday. He is my boat hero besides being a great crew. When stuff inevitably broke or stopped working, his approach was to solve a puzzle. My approach was to freak out and complain like a spoiled10 year old that swore like a stevedore. I hope I can learned to approach problems like he does at some point in my life. We will miss them both. 

Hope all is well with you and the problems you face are miniscule. 

Ed out.  

Day 50: Wrangell

 

Day 50: The Ketchikan to Wrangell cruise.

Due to the winds and rain, it seemed like Ketchikan would grab us and not let go. The intention was to spend another day in the city due to poor weather conditions, then try to head out after that. Luckily for us, a window opened up and we took off early after listening to the NOAA weather report. We backed out of the yacht club slip and headed out of the marina while I donned my new Ketchikan Yacht Club baseball cap. What a buy.

We made our way past the Carnival Splendor cruise ship whose crew was tying up to the dock and around the stern of the Celebrity Solstice that was just coming into port for the day. Then we dialed in the auto pilot and turned the boat north through Tongass Narrows. 

The Carnival ship with a big red bear and a climbing wall for the kids.

By the way, the autopilot is fixed and working again, as is the radar. There is a story there. A day before the electronics went haywire, We were lounging at anchor in Yes Bay when Moon wanted a project to do. Removing the audio speakers on either side of the refrigerator would give us more room to put stuff. After the pair were removed, I put them under the floor in the front berth on top of a piece of  3/4" plywood. Little did I know that the electronic compass globe had been installed just under the plywood. That's the main component that guides all the electronics. The speakers have hefty magnets built in them. As you can probably guess, magnets and compasses don’t mix. That's when the autopilot, chart plotter and radar went haywire out of Yes Bay. A big faux pas on my part. I didn’t actually know the compass globe was down there until the Garmin support guy told me to trace the wire off the autopilot controller in the bilge. When I did, there they were right above the compass.  I removed the speakers and voila, no more trouble with the electronics. This cruise has been one big problem-solving endeavor, like it or not.

Out of Ketchikan, our first stop was in Vixen Bay, a pretty cove but sort of unremarkable compared with all the beautiful wilderness we’ve experienced so far.  The weather was starting to rear its ugly head so we ducked in here for protection. We had a nice evening with the wind calming down and some great views out of the mouth of the bay.

The next morning, we enjoyed Moon’s breakfast and motored out of the harbor to our next stop, Santa Anna Inlet. In the Navionics app the comment about this inlet was that a path to a lake existed at the head of the cove. We’d been cooped up in the boat for a couple of days so a walk would be great. The path was described as “well marked and often used”. After motoring around for a good 45 minutes there was no path to find. However, the tide was dropping and what appeared was an old riveted and heavily rusted boilers on the shore. We think they were steam driven Donkey Engines that might have provided power for some sort of logging function. They didn’t mark the path either. Again, another calm evening, another beautiful bay.

A donkey engine was used as a winch in the logging, mining and maritime industries. They

replaced horses as a power source. Photo by our friend Shelly. 

Onto Steep To Cove the next morning. We were fortunate to get a close look some of the wildlife. First, we spied a grizzly bear lumbering around on the beach. He or she was looking for some morsels to hold him over until the salmon started running up the rivers and streams to spawn.  Next a couple of deer, one doe and one fawn. The baby was jumping around looking to get her sea legs under her. It was funny to see, like she was on a pogo stick, up and down she’d go.

As we continued to Steep To we passed a raft of seals and sea lions with many young in the water. One male sea lion looked to be 300-400 pounds, just my guess. He dwarfed all the other sea lions and when he came out of the water to climb to the top of the rock all the others gave him plenty of room to do so.

Seals and sea lions lazing on the rocks, off the water 10 feet or more, 

waiting for the tides to rise so they can return to the water. 

Then we got a treat watching humpback whales and porpoises in the same area where there must have been a massive amount of bait fish.  The whales were active and the porpoises were zipping back and forth in every direction.  Then, all of a sudden, they disappeared. A couple minutes later they popped up in front of us darting in and out of the bow wave. It is a thrill to see this wildlife up close. As fast as they appeared, they were gone.

Humpback whale and Dall's porpoises. When you see something 

that big, it's pretty impressive. 

We motored into Steep To Cove, which would give us a  good start the following morning up Zimovia Strait and into Wrangell. We arrived in Wrangell in the afternoon and got a spot on the end of the dock, making it easier for us to leave in the morning.  

Wrangell is sort of an unremarkable town but one steeped in history. Wrangell was founded by the Russians who started trading with the Tlinget in 1811. The traded glass beads and cloth for fur. The British Hudson’s Bay Company leased the stockade the Russians built when they arrived and continued the fur trade. When the sea otter and beaver stocks were depleted, the British abandoned the fort in 1849 but it remained under British control until the US purchased Alaska in 1867 and built their own stockade. Commerce build up around the fort and was a boon to the Wrangell community through the gold rushes in the mid to late 1800s.  Since the 1800s the areas industry is what you’d think it would be…fishing and logging with a little bit of mining thrown in. 

(By the way, the US Secretary of State William H. Seward signed a treaty with Russian for the purchase of Alaska for $7 million, roughly 2 cents an acre. Despite getting a big time bargain the purchase was derided by Congress and President Andrew Johnson as “Seward’s Folly”, “Seward’s Icebox” and “polar bear garden”. They were evidently short sighted because it turned out to be a screamin’ deal.

All for now.  Hope all is well with you all.

Ed Out.

Misty Fjords

 Misty Fjords

Wikipedia reports that Misty Fjords National Monument is a wilderness area administered by the US Forest Service as part of the Tongass National Forest. The national monument was originally proclaimed by President Jimmy Carter in December 1978. By the way, Jimmy is 97 and Rosalynn the ripe old age of 94. Jimmy’s hoping people will finally forget that he gave the Panama Canal back to the Panamanians and, hence, no longer under US control. The two of them are expected to live into their 120s and continue doing volunteer work until….until they fall over, I guess.

Anyway, on to Misty Fjords. We left Klu Bay and traveled north around the top of the Loop of Revillegegido Island. It was beautiful country with mountains all around, a light breeze rippling the water here and there and our second bear sighting. But increasingly, pollen was everywhere, on the boat, in the water, all over everything. It was like rivers of yellow gunk flowing across the water. It would pool in little silver dollar sized sticky globs by the thousands, millions actually. I steered out of the way to avoid some of the big pools of the stuff. Finally, the water just turned a yellowish green. It was enough to make you sneeze just looking at it. I’ve never seen anything like it.

With all the massive logging that’s been done in this part of the world there have been consequences to removing the timber on steep slopes. With all the rain, snow, and freezing in the winter the ground gives way on an area that has been recently logged and an avalanche occurs. Everything comes crashing down and leaves a blight on the side of the mountain and a big twisted log mess at the bottom. Sometimes, the slide area is unable to recover.  At other times there is enough soil left to re-establish new growth and its on the way to recovery. 

Tides are a big item up here. For instance, on June 16^th, a day with a full moon, the difference in the tidal exchange is 22 feet in Ketchikan.  Low tide is a -4.1 and the high tide is 18.6. In comparison, the tides in Anacortes on the same day are a low of 3.7 (one of the lowest for the year) and 9.0 for a high, an exchange of water totaling 12.7 feet. This is important when anchoring in this part of the world because dropping the anchor in 25-30 feet of water could find the boat bouncing off the bottom at low tide. If there are any rocks along the bottom, that’s additional problem.  So, we always take into consideration what the tides are doing and anchor accordingly. Then, we won’t be startled from a dead sleep in the middle of the night wondering what the crunching noise is coming from the hull.  

Now we enter Walker Cove. 

After wandering into Walker Cove, we decided that this was probably our favorite place as far as raw unusual beauty. It has 3 separate bays, each with a stream running into it, gigantic glacially carved vertical granite walls, plenty of waterfalls with their low rumble as they cascaded down the cliffs. What could be better than this? Ruthie Jeanne rounded the corner to the bay to find the buoy vacant and ready for our lines. This would be our luck lately, to nab the only buoy in a bay. And then there was the bear! We watched the bear rummage through the beach looking for something to eat each afternoon and early eve. 

  

   

Some of the waterfalls in Walker Cove would drop 1000 feet into the water, some with a splash, others just trickled down the rock wall. 

Leaving Walker Cove. If we ever return here to this magical place, it would be a delight.

We headed back to Ketchikan and called the Ketchikan Yacht Club Marina for a slip because the other marinas were full. In what has been our good fortune lately, we were able to pull into the only slip that was available on the yacht club dock.  I was beginning to feel like the purchase of a lotto ticket would be my next move.  

We returned here to pick up Scott and friend Shelly. They’ll be with us for the next 10 days. That trip will culminate in a tour to the Le Conte Glacier and hopefully we’ll see the glacier calving into the bay. This is the time of year we'll probably see many sea pups born not too long ago. 

It’s been raining and windy, which has delayed our trip. We won’t head out when there is a forecast of Small Craft Warnings and gale force winds, but we'll leave soon. 

More pictures, less words today. Hope all is well with you.

Ed out.