Last winter, we planned and dreamed of what we wanted to see this summer, I wanted to see Skagway and Haynes, Sitka, Elfin Cove, and Glacier Bay. Doug wanted to Get Out of Dodge. Of course, any and all Inside Passage plans were subject to change.Skagway and Haines were the first to change. We knew that the wind almost always blows up or down the 85-mile long Lynn Canal leading those towns, but other cruisers pointed out that the wind ALSO whistles though Skagway’s boat harbor. Well, that makes sense, but we hadn’t considered trying to dock Shaman in 35 knots of wind in a tiny crowded harbor. Skagway slipped off the list, and with it, Haines. Many boaters take the ferry from Juneau to Skagway and Haines; we might do that another year.
As we planned and dreamed, we assumed that we would be in Alaska during Summer. Being Pacific Northwest natives, we understand about Summer: it occasionally looks like Early Spring. Early Spring in Alaska is cold, wet, and windy.
From Sitka, Shaman motored back through Peril Strait (another whale show!) and into Chatham Strait where we could either turn left and head for Elfin Cove and Glacier Bay or turn right and head south in search of sunshine. The weather forecast for the entire coast and inland waters was consistent for the next five days, except for the wind-speeds and sea-states, which varied from place to place. High of 53. Low of 50. Rain. The weather forecast goes on for about five minutes, naming each area. Rain. Rain. Rain. And then there were the winds and sea states. seasChatham Strait: twenty knots, four- foot seas. Fredrick Sound twenty-five knots, five-foot seas. This did not sound recreational, unless we compared it to the coast where the winds were stronger and the seas steeper. Elfin Cove and Glacier Bay will wait for another year. I’m thinking that we like the image of Alaska a little more than the reality of Alaska.
We turned right into Chatham Strait and headed for Ell Cove. Anchoring in the early afternoon, we put on our shorts and sat in the sunshine! The storm was forecast to arrive in the morning.
From Sitka, Shaman motored back through Peril Strait (another whale show!) and into Chatham Strait where we could either turn left and head for Elfin Cove and Glacier Bay or turn right and head south in search of sunshine. The weather forecast for the entire coast and inland waters was consistent for the next five days, except for the wind-speeds and sea-states, which varied from place to place. High of 53. Low of 50. Rain. The weather forecast goes on for about five minutes, naming each area. Rain. Rain. Rain. And then there were the winds and sea states. seasChatham Strait: twenty knots, four- foot seas. Fredrick Sound twenty-five knots, five-foot seas. This did not sound recreational, unless we compared it to the coast where the winds were stronger and the seas steeper. Elfin Cove and Glacier Bay will wait for another year. I’m thinking that we like the image of Alaska a little more than the reality of Alaska.
We turned right into Chatham Strait and headed for Ell Cove. Anchoring in the early afternoon, we put on our shorts and sat in the sunshine! The storm was forecast to arrive in the morning.
See that dark line on the horizon? You don’t want to be there. And that is not even supposed to be the horizon. You should be able to see Admiralty Island. The wind increased as the daylight decreased.One of the helpful things that our new electronics will do is give us a read-out of our latitude and longitude, wind speed and water depth…all on one little three-inch by three-inch screen. We wrote down the “lat and lon” before we went to bed (like sleep was going to happen…) and checked it occasionally during the night to make sure Shaman was staying in the same spot. We could have also set various depth and position alarms, but the darn things would drive us crazy with spurious beeping all night long. The highest wind-speed we saw was twenty-two knots in our little “hurricane hole.” We could only imagine what it was blowing outside.
By morning, the wind had dimished, and we decided to try it again. Conditions were somewaht better than the day before; we ducked into Takatz Harbor and were greeted by two beautiful waterfalls and sunshine! We put Ratty in the water and went on an explore. What a difference a day makes.
Delivering guests to the only other boat in Tahatz Harbor.
Reflections was about three times the size of Shaman.
View from the cockpit.Drizzle and relative calm seas greeted us as we once again entered Chatham Strait the next day. For some reason beyond reason, we decided to bypass our planned anchorage and head for
the next available anchorage, which would put us three hours closer to Petersburg. Shaman entered the tiny indentaion in Read Island at about 7:30. Doug went forward to release the anchor. “You must have forgotten to turn on one of the switches.” That happens sometimes, but life was not that simple on this rainy evening. We did not have a functioning anchor windlass. We could get the anchor down (gravity is our friend), but would have to crank it and all of the chain up by hand: a situation we try to avoid. We avoided it by heading back out into Fredrick Sound.
It was almost 8 o’clock, the visibility was disgusting and we were five hours away from Petersburg. We have not cruised at night for years. I guess we still haven’t. This was not cruising. This was all business. But, Yahoo! the wind was not blowing. AND we had another amazing little electronic aid: our AIS system.
the next available anchorage, which would put us three hours closer to Petersburg. Shaman entered the tiny indentaion in Read Island at about 7:30. Doug went forward to release the anchor. “You must have forgotten to turn on one of the switches.” That happens sometimes, but life was not that simple on this rainy evening. We did not have a functioning anchor windlass. We could get the anchor down (gravity is our friend), but would have to crank it and all of the chain up by hand: a situation we try to avoid. We avoided it by heading back out into Fredrick Sound.
It was almost 8 o’clock, the visibility was disgusting and we were five hours away from Petersburg. We have not cruised at night for years. I guess we still haven’t. This was not cruising. This was all business. But, Yahoo! the wind was not blowing. AND we had another amazing little electronic aid: our AIS system.
I can’t believe I haven’t told you about the AIS system. (Some of you know what it is. Your skimming skills will come in handy here.) The AIS is an optional ($$$) feature that we had added to the electronic chart plotter. It identifies large commercial vessels on the chart. Generally you do not see other boats on the electronic chart; can’t see them on the paper chart either. The electronic chart does show us Shaman, a little black boat icon that the GPS magically places on the chart and moves around.
Ah, but AIS! Commercial vessels with AIS identification show up as little lavender triangles on the chart; you can tell which direction they are traveling by the pointy end of the triangle. We put the cursor on the triangle, and we get information. What do we want to know? Name, call sign, length, beam, draft, speed, compass course, color of skipper’s eyes, distance from Shaman, type of vessel, destination, arrival time, and (The Best!) CPA and TCPA. Not all vessels give all of that information, but you always get the CPA and TCPA: the Closest Point of Approach and the Time of Closest Point of Approach. Another way of saying that is “by how much are you going to miss colliding with them if you stay on this course, and what time will that happen?
Usually the AIS it is just an amusement; kinda’ like reading the details of someone else’s life. I have used it twice; once to let me know that an Alaskan Ferry would run us down if I maintained course and speed and another time to assure me that a BC ferry would pass without injury or mayhem.
As Shaman motored along in the deteriorating visibly, the ferry Columbia was identified on the chart plotter. I could barley see her through the gathering dusk and clouds on the water. Do you know how FAST those boats move? It was reassuring not to have to guess if we were on a collision course, and also to know that there were no other large vessels galloping down on us. We also have radar, and all vessels (supposedly) show up on that, but AIS is THE BEST!
Usually the AIS it is just an amusement; kinda’ like reading the details of someone else’s life. I have used it twice; once to let me know that an Alaskan Ferry would run us down if I maintained course and speed and another time to assure me that a BC ferry would pass without injury or mayhem.
As Shaman motored along in the deteriorating visibly, the ferry Columbia was identified on the chart plotter. I could barley see her through the gathering dusk and clouds on the water. Do you know how FAST those boats move? It was reassuring not to have to guess if we were on a collision course, and also to know that there were no other large vessels galloping down on us. We also have radar, and all vessels (supposedly) show up on that, but AIS is THE BEST!
We got into Petersburg at 12:30 AM, helped by the “max flood” current flowing into Wrangell Narrows and our numerous guardian angels. Shaman somehow avoided hitting the crab pots and most of the kelp patches ourside the harbor. Deciding it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, we tied up on a long pier where very large yachts and fishing boats moor, and called the Harbor Master to let him know we had parked ourselves and would prefer not to move. I think Doug worded it a little stronger than that. We took longer than usual to tie up Shaman because we had to spend some time kissing the dock and THANKING Mr. Kubota (our diesel engine) and those guardian angels. We debriefed with cheese, crackers, fruit, and rum, and tumbled into bed.
Monday the recommended boatyard assured us they would put us on their schedule. Tuesday we found out that all of the marine trades people were very busy with the fishing fleet and could not even consider looking at our anchor windlass until Friday.
With our limited trouble-shooting skills, Doug determined that it was not an electrical problem with the switches. (That would have been too easy.) We decided the one thing we could do was clean the contacts (UGLY!!!) on the windlass motor that lives in the anchor well. Guess who fits in the achor well?
Monday the recommended boatyard assured us they would put us on their schedule. Tuesday we found out that all of the marine trades people were very busy with the fishing fleet and could not even consider looking at our anchor windlass until Friday.
With our limited trouble-shooting skills, Doug determined that it was not an electrical problem with the switches. (That would have been too easy.) We decided the one thing we could do was clean the contacts (UGLY!!!) on the windlass motor that lives in the anchor well. Guess who fits in the achor well?
As we mussed around on the pointy end of the boat, people passing by would stop to chat about the weather or our boat repair attempt. (All 400 feet of our chain and anchor rode were on the dock along with Mr. Delta and his smaller brother, Bruce. It was obvious we were in the middle of some sort of project.)“You’re from Bainbridge Island? (BI is on our stern.) I’m from Poulsbo. I used to keep my boat at Liberty Bay Marina. Do you know Steve Roberts?”
Ah, Southeast Connections. Ben Raley used to work for Steve Roberts, the boat mechanic we used before he went to work for a boatyard in Seattle. Ben had worked on our last sailboat, Gusto. He and his wife have just returned from a three-year voyage from Poulsbo to New England via the Panama Canal. They are now working on a small excursion boat in Petersburg for the summer.
“Do you guys need a hand here?”
I don’t think Doug and I even looked at each other. In a minute, Ben had his shoes off and had taken my place in the anchor well. He worked for over an hour, took apart the windlass, and got the motor off. He left with a promise to return the next day. We packed up the motor and headed for the NAPA store to have it “bench tested”. It failed, and the NAPA owners called around until they found someone who could take it apart.
Dave and Doug at Mitkof Auto Repair worked on our tired New Zealand anchor windlass motor as we chatted about Petersburg, NPR, and life in general. You probably didn’t know that Tom Bodett (“We will leave the light on for you” – Motel 6) came from Petersburg. He was Doug’s high school art teacher. You probably don’t care. We do. We used to listen to his program on NPR. Doug and Dave cleaned up the motor, blessed the almost-worn-out brushes inside, and the elderly little guy started up.We will have to be Very Careful and Kind to The Little Motor; we’re no longer able to use Mr. (45 lb) Delta and our 200 feet of chain.
Ben reappeared the next day and spent hours installing the windlass and motor and helping Doug reconfigure the anchor rode which now has 40 feet of chain, 200 feet of line, and Bruce. As he was working, I asked Ben when his boat, The Alaska Adventurer, was scheduled to leave. He looked at his watch. “In about five minutes.” He had the week off. I do believe we are in the category of Very Fortunate People.Interesting boats in Petersburg…
The chaps on this 1980, 112-foot beauty were very friendly. One of the crewmen, going to the head of the pier with a bag of trash, saw our black plastic bag awaiting a ride, offered to take it for us. The Brits are great!
Don’t see many of these…
‘Didn't recognize her flag…
We're heading south as the weather-gods permit in search of Summer . We'll be a somewhat cautious to avoid anchoring in Bad Weather. 'Don't want to ask too much of Bruce and his chain and line.
