Shaman's Chronicles

Chronicle 17 San Juans to Home

2008-10-03T12:37:00.000-07:00

September 8- 14

We cleared US Customs with some difficulty. When Doug called to see if we could clear by phone or if we needed to report to Friday Harbor, he was told we needed a Boat Recreation Number. We had passport numbers, NEXUS numbers, and a number and decal from The Department of Homeland Security, US Customs and Boarder Protection Division. We did not have a Boat Recreation Number. We do now. We each have a number, not just one for the boat. (Shaman thought that was unfair. If is were not for her, we world not need the numbers.) We are sure that the next time we clear in Ketchikan, they will have never heard of a Boat Recreation Number.

Doug hauling up Kenny Kellet.

Kenny was unceremoniously thrown overboard in the wee small hours of the morning when we were anchored in Reid Harbor on Stuart Island in the San Juans. After a classic sunny September day, Doug was awakened at 2:00 AM by (un-forecast) wind in the rigging. I was sleeping soundly, but he decided that 20 knots deserved attention from both of us. We carefully made our way to the foredeck, with flashlights in hand, to let out more anchor line and send Kenny slithering down the anchor rode to hold it on the bottom. Kenny loves doing this. We hoped this was his last day on the job, but since a new anchor windlass costs more than $1.98, he may see action again.
Mt. Baker and one of the many ferries we avoided in the San Juans

The Adventuress slowing making her way across Lopez Sound.

After three days in the San Juans, Shaman sallied over to Anacortes where Jolie joined us for a day of sailing in Rosario Strait.

Shaman tucked up her dainty keel once more, and we headed for the Swinomish Channel (dredged to 6.8 feet…we draw almost 8 feet. We transited at hight tide.) for a rendezvous with the Eagle Harbor Yacht Club at La Conner.

La Conner was hosting a Classic and Antique Car and Boat show and I picked out my car. I liked his mischievous expression.

We didn’t find a boat to buy at the boat show, but I am going to try to replicate the dining room from this classic yacht on Shaman. Maybe just the tablecloth.

I thought that Doug looked good at the helm, but he was coveting the anchor windlass….

Shaman shuddered when we showed her the picture of what we had in mind for a new windlass and asked us to keep looking.

We left LaConner early in the morning on September 14th, headed for Liberty Bay Maria and then to our land-based home.

I am pleased to report that Shaman did not swagger when returning to her moorage this year. Her modest behavior may have been due to the fact that is was blowing hared, and it took all of her (and Doug’s) concentration to get her safely into her slip. But we know she had a good time and we’re grateful for her stellar performance.

Shaman flying her colors, safe at home.
*******************************************************************************

The Inside Passage is among the wildest coasts left

in the temperate zone, and through its defenses

of steepness and bad weather it has retained a

pristine condition that is a treasure in

the early twenty-first century.
…….. Passage to Alaska, p. 8

Thank you for sharing our adventures in this treasured land.

Doug, Jean, and Shaman

Chronicle 16 Nanaimo to Sidney

2008-09-20T10:07:00.000-07:00

September 3-7

Shaman flying her colors on a beautiful day at the Port of Nanaimo. (The blue flag is Alaska’s, if you can’t see the stars.)

As many of you know, Shaman went to Alaska last year under another name. When we returned to our marina in Poulsbo, she had a distinct swagger to her stern as she came down the fairway on a sunny Sunday afternoon. “I’ve been to Alaska. Where did YOU go this summer?” she asked the other boats as she went by. We couldn’t blame her because it was quite an accomplishment and she did a great job; we were proud of her, too. But now she has a new name and Ego is not part of it. We will see.

By the way, we chose the name Shaman using the definition of “an intermediary between the spirit world and the physical world”. She takes us places and gives us time to experience the presence of what is truly important in life.

On our way north, we talked to a gentleman who told us that he pulp mill at Nanaimo had closed, taking 750 jobs out of the economy. We have always liked Nanaimo and were sorry that it would be facing hard times. In Pender Harbor on our way home, we met one of the mill workers who was very excited because he now OWNED the mill; the workers bought it.

When we cruised by, the mill was shut down. Very eerie to see it without activity and with no steam billowing. We wish them well. It is a difficult transition, having the workers take over the company and actually make it profitable.

Dodd Narrows at slack water. (Connecting the area near Nanaimo with the Gulf Islands)

I LOVE Dodd Narrows. Each year, I take the same pictures. Makes Doug crazy. Except for Deception Pass, Dodd was the first narrows we had to negotiate when we were younger boaters. Maybe that’s why I like it so much. I told Doug that I wanted my ashes scattered here. You’d never get any rest--swishing back and forth for eternity! I hadn’t thought of that. I’m reconsidering. I’d better decide before next summer. He may push me overboard if I try to take another series of pictures.

From Dodd Narrows, Shaman rafted out at the public dock at Degnan Bay on Gabriola Island and her crew made their usual pilgrimage on the quiet, not-too-hilly roads to Silva Bay for their ration of greasy pub food.

Gardening on Gabriola

This old oak tree had a bench around its trunk and a sign ‘way up high that said Gossip Bench. The grass around it was tramped down. ‘Maybe the island version of the Internet?

Malcolm Island does not have a monopoly on whimsical gates.

We spent some time chatting with Verne Guieterez, the dock master at Degnan, He has lived on his sailboat at the dock for six years and had a wealth of knowledge about the bay and the island, as well as a great outlook on life.

When we stopped in Sidney to see our friends Carol and Don, who we’d visited on the way north, we stayed at the Port Sidney Marina, a “sophisticated oasis for the discerning marine traveler.”

It’s a lovely facility with many huge expensive boats: a stark contrast to Petersburg, Wrangell, Ketchikan, and Sitka. We laughed about their motto as well as where Shaman and her crew were the most at home. But we loved every minute of it.

There are many Laws of the Boat. I had to re-learn # 132.67 on the way to Sidney.

The one day that you do not close a hatch, you will take green water over the bow. Okay. Maybe it was blue water.

The weather was beautiful when we left Musgrave Landing and, for the first time in our 107 days at sea, I did not “dog down” the hatch in the forward cabin. A large yacht went by us at high speed, much closer than was polite. Doug turned in to the wake so we wouldn’t take it broadside, sending Shaman careening back and forth causing everything below to change places. The wake was bigger than the BC ferries. (Of course, the ferries are not usually that close.) The water rushed over the bow and a goodly amount of it dove into the forward cabin, soaking all of the bedding. The cushions have Sunbrella fabric, so the water just beaded up on them, but the comforter and sheets welcomed it, thinking we were doing a cold-(salt)-water wash. (The sloshing motion certainly resembled a washing machine.)

Fortunately we were headed for a “sophisticated oasis for the discerning marine traveler.” We used the sophisticated laundry room. And it really was. The folding table was black granite, with a stainless steel sink. Leather couches, a telly, and computer at the other end of the carpeted room offered entertainment. The washing machines washed and the dryers dried, just like the machines up the coast. The very thing we were hopping for.

The comforter didn’t get dry before the laundry area closed at the very civilized hour of 5:00 PM, so I draped it over the boom. We looked like the Jodes from Oklahoma. I’m surprised we were not issued a citation. Possibly when we try to return, we will be turned away.

We love Sidney.

Next port of call: U.S. of A.

Chronicle 15 Desolation Sound and Environs

2008-09-12T09:44:00.000-07:00

August 24-September 2

Time once again to go grocery shopping, buy petrol and take on water. Shaman headed for the Heriot Bay Hotel on Quadra Island, our old stand-by for all the above, as well as ICE CREAM CONES (blackberry ripple). We skipped the bar where last year an inebriated resident tried to pick a fight with Doug.

Ferry from Quadra Island to Cortes

Gardening at Heriot Bay

With 30 knots of wind predicted, we screwed up our courage and headed for Von Donop Inlet the next day. We had two issues with Von Donop; one physical, one mental. The physical issue: Von Donop has a two-mile-long entrance that becomes very shallow (seven feet on a zero tide) and very narrow. The very shallow, very narrow spot has a rock in the middle. Actually, closer to the south wall. The “good” water (ha!) is on the south side. Our Hemmingway-Douglas book advises hugging the south wall, almost touching the trees. Okay, that’s fine. We took Shaman’s seven-foot-ten-inch keel in on a nine-foot tide.

The other problem with Von Donop concerns memories of our last visit, in September of 2001. We spent a sunny day hiking to Squirrel Cove on the other side of the Cortes Island. The next morning we were awakened by our cell phone: Julie was calling with the news of 9/ll. Strange that we would have had the phone on and stranger still that there would be reception in that obscure inlet. (Our cell phone has been silent this year in Canadian waters because Verizon was being pissy about Canadian coverage at a reasonable cost.)

With a storm predicted, we had a lot of company in the large bay at the end of the inlet with its many hidey-holes. At least thirty of us were looking for a good night’s sleep. The hiking trails did not beckon to us though the downpour and we were grateful that the predicted high winds never materialized.

Von Donop with a few of the remaining boats waiting for high tide to leave.

We headed north the next day to Toba Wildernest, a small marina in the middle of nowhere. I’d read about it in our Waggoner book and just had to visit. We think that 20-mile-long Toba Inlet is stunning, but we’re not sure because the 8,000 foot high mountains were wearing their clouds.

Kyle and Andrea (from the prairies of Alberta) have been here for about five years. They were joined by Rowan

and Teddy.....

Gardening at Toba Wildernest (...not sure about the thing on the beach…)

Toba Wildernest has a water-turbine mini-hydro plant. Kyle said that one of the selling points for him was the electricity provided by a year-round stream and this reliable turbine--much less expensive, trouble-free, and friendlier-sounding than its diesel cousins.

Chute retuning turbine water to the creek after it did its work. The creek comes from what we are told is a beautiful lake. It is a short, steep hike, and the Old Knees we brought with us requested we only go part way.

Fifteen or so people arrived on this classic mini-excursion boat to spend the night in the tidy cabins at Toba Wildernest.

What is this man doing? Kyle hauled Ratty up on the dock when we arrived and dumped out gallons of rainwater. After a (another) night of rain, Doug repeated the process.

Would you go for a dinghy ride in this weather???

Anchored in Prideaux Haven in Desolation Sound, we decided to go for an explore. We were towing Ratty, so this was not the ordeal it is when he is on the foredeck. However it still take some prep. Lower Tommy Tahutse on to Ratty’s transom. Secure the oars in case it gets too shallow for Tommy or he want to take a little time off. (That has never happened.) Gas can for Tommy. “Throwable device” (boat cushion) for the BC Coast guard .

“It looks like it is going to rain.”

In the five minutes it took us to get ourselves ready to depart, clouds had lowered, wind had increased from nothing to way too much, and the RAIN commenced. We rook off our life jackets and went below. The people off the boat next to us came zipping back in their inflatable as the thunder arrived.

The storm passed as quickly as it had arrived and Ratty took us around the labyrinth of coves that make up this part of Desolation Sound.

Sailboat with stern-tie, laundry, and kayak on deck.

I don’t remember the name of the boat, but she got the prize for the best paint job. It was even prettier in person (in boat). The colors were very pleasing.

We didn’t join the fun.

The guy standing watch was looking out to sea and did not see us drifting toward them. At Toba Wildernest, we saw a family of Mergansers with many tiny babies. In September! Mother Nature does interesting things to perpetuate a species and keep the eagles fed.

Classic Desolation Sound

View from our anchorage in Prideaus Haven at high tide, it looks like you can go between the islands. This is why we read charts.

Ratty chatting with Shaman at Gorge Harbor, Cortes Island, near Desolation Sound.

Leaving Gorge Harbor early in the morning, headed for Pender Harbor.

Gardening at Madera Park in Pender Harbor on the Sunshine Coast (north of Vancouver)

For two years we have admired the evolving plantings near the visitors’ center in this tiny community. We assumed that it was a community effort, but found out that it is the work of one man--a semi-retired landscaped architect who employees one person full time to work on three different plots of ground. Ain’t that grand?

This little log pusher is a memorial, probably to a tugboat crewmember or logger.

Last year on the way north we anchored in Buccaneer Bay and promised ourselves we would return. What we had not taken into account was the calm weather last year. This year we had a strong southerly wind that came into the bay over the spit connecting North and South Thormanby Islands and made finding a calm spot challenging.

Shaman found herself a hidey-hole among a lot of nasty-looking rocks and spent a quiet afternoon and night with three resident seals.

The next morning we left early to cross the Straits of Georgia, headed for Nanaimo with a forecast of 5-15 knots southerly winds. The tide had just turned, so we would have the wind against us, but the current with us. Bad combination. Shaman was taking green water over her bow, although we only had 8 knots of wind. WHERE DID THESE WAVES COME FROM? When our speed dropped to 3.5 knots, Doug turned north for Lasqueti Island in the middle of the Straits where we anchored for three hours until the wind died down.

After all of those miles under our keel this summer, we were not expecting to get in such uncomfortable (not dangerous, just a slog) water so close to home. But then we remembered that the worst weather we have ever encountered was in the Straits of Juan de Fuca. We don’t make the rules.

Chronicle 14 Hospitality Along the BC Coast

2008-08-30T18:15:00.000-07:00

August 19-24

Pierre’s Resort at Echo Bay (Is that rain???)

Pierre’s was on our list of places to re-visit. Pierre and his wife, Tove, owned a small marina around the bend from Echo Bay for a number of years before purchasing the Echo Bay Resort with a partner last winter. Together, they are resurrecting the historic, deteriorating facility. All of the docks are new and they are cleaning up the surrounding area.

But no matter what they do with the marina, the best part of Pierre’s is Tove and Pierre’s hospitality. In addition to providing great showers (they do not have good water, so our water tanks did not get filled) and a more-than-adequate store, they host dinners (pig roasts, halibut and chips, Italian, steak and baked potato) under a whimsical tent. Often the dinners have a theme: ‘50’s, Christmas in July, Dress-Like-A-Pirate, etc. Sixty-two people shared halibut and chips the night we dined there.

Former hotel. –looks much better in this picture than reality

Arro was build for Herbert Hoover in 1922. She now lives in covered moorage in Pt. Angeles.

Additional moorage (formerly Windsong Sea Village) on the opposite side of the bay. Empty in the morning. Crowded in the evening.

Dinner tent and store. The former owners of Echo Bay had this Lake Washington Floating Bridge cement pontoon hauled north years ago to form a breakwater at the entrance to the bay

The draw of the Broughtons, aside from the scenery, is the warmth and hospitality of the marina owners and the opportunity for boaters to share experiences with others who are affiliated with (or blessed by) this need to go places in a small boat. (Of course, Shaman is about the smallest boat around these days.) We reluctantly altered our plans to visit three more marinas because….can you guess? Another gale was coming; if we didn’t take advantage of the “weather window” it would be a week before we could leave.

We motored south from Echo Bay on the type of day that made us think there could never be such a thing as a gale. Headed for the Johnstone Straits we were looking for whales; we found calm seas and following winds.

What do the following pictures have in common?

Pt. Neville, with its small public dock, was our planned destination. We hoped to stay at the dock, instead of anchoring, in order to save Maxwell Windless for times when there was no other choice. The three spaces on the dock were filled and the boats did not have fenders over, inviting new arrivals to “raft up”. We were a little miffed. That’s not very hospitable. (We, or course, have been guilty of the same lapse.) The small group of people talking on shore noticed us looking longingly at the sides of the boats and asked if we wanted to raft.

Yes, please.
Or you can tie up over there. (pointing to the sea plane float)
Isn’t that the dock for the mail plane?
Yes, but you can tie up there. I’m Lorna.

You can’t cruise the BC coast without the guidebooks. We knew who Lorna was: the Postmistress at Port. Neville. She, of course, would be able to give permission for us to tie up at the mail plane float. (We spent a night a Pt Neville years ago, but didn’t recognize Lorna at first.) The men took our lines while Lorna sloshed buckets of water over the float to disperse the river otter poop. As soon as Shaman was secured, they invited us to join them for a potluck dinner that was “on the table and getting cold”. After being assured that we didn’t need to contribute anything, we scurried into the well-preserved former home/post office/store.

Lorna’s grandfather had been the first postmaster on this part of the coast (over 100 years ago). Her father followed in his footsteps, and Lorna now has the job. The house was huge for its time, with high ceilings, large rooms, and exceedingly well- built. The grounds are nicely maintained for the deer and bears. Lorna does not live in this house; her home is on one side, the post office on the other.

In addition to Lorna, our dinner hosts were the crew from the BC Mission Boat. Based in Parkville, the non-denominational Mission Boat Society spends eight weeks each summer traveling to remote (and not terribly remote) native villages “connecting people in coastal communities with God’s love”. They only go to communities where they are invited and people come from all over North America to serve on one-week missions during the summer. During the rest of the year, they travel by ferry and float plane and raise money. We shared a delightful evening; good food, conversation, and music! You get to guess which one of us enjoyed it the most.

You're gonna' need the wheelchair after you stand on your head to read the next chart. Pay attention. West is at the top. North is to your right. You're on your own for the other two.

Chatham Point, source of wind and wave reports for the east end of the Johnstone Straits

Winds in the Johnstone Straits the next morning varied: 18, 6, 3,15, 6, 17. You get the picture. Three or four islands provide channels to bail out to the north (fairly large and solid Vancouver Island is on the south) if the weather kicks up (as was predicted). We traveled from island to island, tentatively making our way east. Chatham Point is where the Straits turn south and become Discovery Channel leading to Campbell River. Shaman made the turn just before Sin or Swim passed her.

We had been following the indiscretions of Sin or Swim for most of the morning on the VHF radio Vessel Traffic Control channel. Our VHF can be set to constantly scan a selected number of channels; this results in overhearing some strange conversations. I’m in the bathroom right now. More information than we need.

Ah, but Sin or Swim. She first came to our attention when Vessel Traffic Control chastised her skipper for being in contravention of the Canadian Shipping Act. (We liked that word.) Vessels much, much larger than Shaman must register with the vessel traffic control system, have certain publications on board, report their estimated time of arrival at specific points, and report their actual time of arrival. The boats get “passed” from one traffic controller to the next along the Straits and Discovery Passage. Sin or Swim apparently had snuck in under the radar and these people were not happy. Her reputation as a vessel that had contravened the rules preceded her. As the hours and transmissions passed, we almost felt sorry for the skipper. The last we heard from her, the skipper was saying, “Yes sir. I understand, sir”

Sin or Swim was 160 feet long, looked like a small version of the Star Ship Enterprise, was registered in some tax-avoidance port in a very small country in the Caribbean, and was skippered by (from the sound of his voice) a US citizen. We speculated on what city he was from and the meaning of the boat name. You may do the same. Doug envisioned L.A., a cigar, an unbuttoned expensive shirt and heavy gold chains down to his nipples. And the boat only had one speed: 30 knots with a wake to dwarf Niagara Falls.

Shaman turned left into Okisollo Channel, the last place to exit before Campbell River, spent the night in Owen Bay and made a record-setting three-mile trip to the Octopus Islands the next day.

That sounds just like us.

Small Inlet

We had gone on a beautiful hike at the head of Wiaitt Bay over to Small Inlet. We laughed after over-hearing the couple behind us on the trail comment on some body-ailment that made hiking difficult.

“Is that hip or a knee problem?” Doug called to them over his shoulder. And that is how we met Karen and John, owners of Evita, a sailing vessel of stellar design: C&C. They were rafted up to another C&C, Lively Lady. An invitation to join them for wine and poo-poos evolved into dinner on Lively Lady, owned by Laurie and Terry.
View from Lively Lady with Evita’s flag in the foreground.

The next day dawned with wind and rain. None of the boats left the bay. Doug and Ratty scurried across the bay to invite “the C&C people” over for dinner. After I took pictures of them being human guinea pigs using our not-user-friendly stern ladder, we shared clam chowder and C&C stories.

And this was BEFORE the wine....

Shaman will play in Desolation Sound for a few days and then head to Nanaimo and the Gulf Islands.

Chronicle 13 Metropolitan Life and Remote Marinas

2008-08-20T16:57:00.000-07:00

Leaving Allison Harbor on August 14,

we visited Port Mc Neill

only to discover that there is another way to get there than a 5-knot sailboat.

Continuing our metropolitan theme, we motored for an hour to that thriving community of Sointula, a “former Finnish utopian community” on Malcolm Island. You don’t see those every day. Utopian is the “former” part of the descriptor; Finnish remains. Other former parts of Sointula are fishing and logging.

Innovative hand-rail at the co-op; meets Sointula building regulations. The neighboring rooster was uncommonly curious and friendly. (Yes, I know he looks like he is scowling….)

If you think you already saw this picture, you are not far off. We are nearAlert Bay. The islands share the same waters and the same economy; nationalities differ, but the fish don’t know about such things.

The fleet was in. The fish were not. Canadian gravity is different. It occasionally grabs the corner of my camera. Those are the mountains of northern Vancouver Island tilting in the background.

The last time we were here, there apparently was a building code in effect requiring that every fifth housed have at least 50% of the exterior surface covered in Tyvek. No Tyvek in sight this year. However, now every fifth house is for sale.

We enjoyed the fences.

….and, the old-standby

Shaman is at the end on the left. ‘Not many yachties in Sointula.

We left Sointula in the fog ....

…and crossed Queen Charlotte Straits to the Broughton Archipelago. We had to check out five bays until we found one without another boat. Where did all of these people come from??? We are Inside-Passage-spoiled.

See the squiggly pink line? Shaman spent some time going in circles at “less than two knots” as per instructions while her skipper and crew attempted to align Mr. Auto Pilot’s compass with Shaman’s steering compass. It is one of those chores we intended to do “along the way” but it since it required a large body of calm water with little tidal current, we hadn’t done it. So we followed directions to “turn boat” for the longest time until Mr. Auto Pilot got dizzy and told us he was full. The compasses are now in complete agreement….when we are heading on a course of 260. Everything else is still off. We’ll try again another day.

Although Kenny and Bruce, our anchor duo, are trying not to be too hard on Mr. Maxwell Windless, we’re not sure how many more pulls Max has left, so after two nights at Owen Bay…..

….we wandered over to Sullivan Bay where the gentleman on the VHF directed us to go to “dock number two, and pull up as close to downtown as you can”.

Gateway to “downtown” Sullivan Bay.

Sullivan Bay is a community of float homes anchored to the bay and connected by cables to the rocks. In addition to the dozen or so homes, they have something resembling a store, a fuel dock, a small restaurant, showers, laundry, and many whimsical signs. The homeowners formed an association last year and bought the “town”. It will be interesting to see over the next few years what services they continue to offer to yachties.

We’ll play in the Broughtons for a few days before heading out into the Johnston Straits, back through the sets of rapids leading to Desolation Sound.

Chronicle 12 Heading for Cape Caution

2008-08-15T10:27:00.000-07:00

Explores While Playing with the Weather. August 11-13

“I think our boats are a little close.”

When we anchored in Fury Cover on the afternoon of August 11, we were careful to leave a respectful distance between Shaman and the only other boat in the bay, a large yacht (two radomes) from Vancouver. (Anchoring etiquette and basic safety dictate that one boat generally should not anchor on top of another.) A sailboat entered the bay and anchored between the yacht and Shaman, leaving all the rest of the beautiful bay unoccupied. I was in the cockpit reading and watched in disbelief as the sailboat settled out Very Close to us. The skipper and his two adult sons set the anchor and got in their dinghy. They swung by Shaman and I assumed that they were coming over to ask if we were comfortable with where they had anchored (although they were so close, they could have just asked from the deck.)
Are you the “Shaman” from Shilshole?
No, we keep the boat in Poulsbo.
Oh. There’s a boat named “Shaman” that looks similar at Shilshole.
And away they went.

The parade of boats anxious to anchor near Shaman.

I looked up from my book, and the bow of Ocean Rover, (isn’t that a nice name?) our close neighbor, was almost in the cockpit with me. He looked like a puppy that wanted to play. (Large puppy; Rover is a 50-foot Beneteau.). He bobbed for a few minutes on one side of the stern and then meandered over to the other side to continue his attempts to become acquainted. Shortly, his skipper returned. As he approached the boats, I made the comment about the boats being a little close. (Doug suggested that I talk with the skipper, since he wasn’t too sure that he would be terribly diplomatic.) The skipper agreed and said that after he went ashore to get his sons, they would move the boat

We chattered for a few minutes. He recently purchased the boat; he may be new to boating and not understand about “swinging room”. Also, his depth sounder was not working, so he may have decided the depth was acceptable since there were already two boats in the space. We have no idea why everyone else gravitated to our little corner of the world; Fury Cove is one of the few bays in this part of the world where you can anchor anywhere in the bay. Ocean Rover relocated in the middle of the cove.

Now, you get another lie-down as you try to read the chart.

Fury Cove is the closest secure anchorage to Queen Charlotte Sound, which we need to cross to get back “inside”. (‘Have to find out who Queen Charlotte was. She has way too many things named after her: islands, straits, and a sound. It gets confusing.) Gale warnings in place and predicted for tomorrow. We don’t cross any body of water in gale warnings. The small lettering on the chart says Open waters; difficult for small craft. Queen Charlotte Sound is another way of saying “Pacific Ocean”. We think that qualifies as open waters. To help orient you: the bright pink line leads between mainland BC and Vancouver Island.

While we waited for the gale to pass, we went for a dinghy explore. The white beach is made up of shells, not sand.

Gardening on Fury Island.

We were surprised to see wild strawberries and “salt water ferns” growing among the rocks on the outside of the island. This area is directly open to the ocean….nice southern exposure as evidenced by the huge drift logs sitting high on the rocks..

I wanted Doug to bring this back to the boat to drag home for garden art. He said we couldn’t get it through customs.

Secluded vacation cabin for rent. Small one room cabin.

Sleeps 8. Bring own water, linens, and TP.

An arch marked a trail….

that led to.....

We commented on the lack of windows, and our curiosity got the better of us. (In keeping with our times, we deflected responsibility. It was not our fault. We were victims of our curiosity). The charge was only criminal trespass since there was not lock we did not need to break and enter.

The three tiny windows did not let in enough light to crate a cozy feeling . We were glad we did not need a place to stay.

BUT, is that TP in the blue container??? We didn’t check. We may have to reword the ad.

We left Fury Cove mid-morning the next day after listening to the weather forecast fifteen times, willing the winds and wave heights to abate. We had little wind, but fairly large seas rounding Cape Caution in the company of many whales and one sea lion. Shaman anchored in Allison Harbor, as she had on the way north. She searched the sunny harbor for El Buccanero, but we explained that he and his crew had passed through days, if not weeks before. She’ll continue her search in further south.

Chronicle 11 South to British Columbia

2008-08-10T11:26:00.000-07:00

June 24 to August 10

Sunset from Frosty Bay. Why have we been complaining about the weather???

In the past two or three weeks, we have spent more time than we care to think about waiting for good weather. One of the things we enjoy about cruising is meeting people in the towns and on the docks. When it is RAINING and THE WIND IS BLOWING, people don’t get out much. And when they (we) do, they’re (we’re) grousing about not being able to go anywhere safely.

Weather stories abound, but mostly it is just bitch, bitch, bitch. Fortunately. You don’t want to have stories to tell of broken gear and heroic acts. We did hear that a fishing boast sank earlier this week in Chatham Straits; all of the crewmembers were rescued. We waited three days in the (very small) town of Wrangell along with a few other large and small boats for a safe window to head south.

The residents of Wrangell may not notice any downturn in the economy. They may have already turned. The two small cruise ships that used to stop in Wrangell canceled this year, decreasing the number of tourists from 40,000 to zero. Yachties don’t contribute much to the economy: people on small boats don’t have any money to spend and people on large boats (yachts don’t come to Wrangell) don’t need anything. Logging is dead and there are few fish. Wrangell knows about downturns in the economy.

Moving South

August 1 We put away our Alaska charts today, except for the one we need to cross the Dixon Entrance in the morning. That dragon area had 8-to-11 foot seas last week and equally disgusting winds. We had a calm crossing.

Part of the magnitude of Dixon Entrance (in addition to the terrifying weather forecasts) is in our minds. The Dixon Entrance is definitely a “marker” on any trip up the Inside Passage. When we were puppies, we use to listen to the weather forecasts for the Queen Charlotte Islands and the Dixon Entrance and dream of going north. We visited the Queen Charlotte Islands by car and ferry fifteen years ago, which is fortunate because the islands are poorly charted; that (and the 60 mile crossing of Hecate Straight which can be quite nasty) makes Shaman nervous. Its hard to get out of harm’s way at five knots.

We cleared Canadian Customs at Prince Rupert August 2nd and headed for 40-mile-long Grenville Channel, (aka, The Ditch) the next day. People in Prince Rupert were lambasting the weather (and they are used to lousy weather in “Rainy Rupert”), but the long -awaited summer pattern may be in place. We had the current with us, strong afternoon winds behind us, and SUNSHINE down Grenville, anchoring in very protected Klewnuggit Bay.

Kenny nestled in with the anchor line and his leash.

This was our first experience anchoring with Bruce and Kenny. Bruce is our smaller, spare anchor that we swapped out for Mr. Delta in Petersburg and Kenny is the kellett (lead ball) of unknown weight that Ben and Doug purchased in Petersburg. The theory is that you (Doug) lower the kellet down the anchor line reducing the angle of the line to the bottom and, hopefully, also reducing the probability that the anchor will drag. (The anchor line is called a “rode” but this is already so confusing, I didn’t want to make it worse.)

We tied a lovely piece of bright blue skinny line to Kenny, Doug clipped Kenny to the anchor rode (I decided you were up to using the new vocabulary) and gravity whisked Kenny out of sight. The sun was out, the scenery was excellent, and we luxuriated in the sunny harbor.

We got up ‘way too early the next morning to get the ebb tide out the second half of Grenville and discovered that bright blue skinny polypro line is almost impossible to get back on board with Kenny attached. It does not have a “good hand” and Kenny’s whole reason for being is his weight. Bad combination. It was kinda’ like using dental floss. We replaced bright blue skinny polypro line.

Shaman ran down Grenville at 9.4 knots. Well, not for all four hours, but for some time. Our cruising speed is a leisurely 5.5 knots and the ebb tide kept us well above that the whole trip.

Naviagating is SO difficult, especially when you have to lie on your side to read the chart. Our internet connection thinks they look better this way.

We were looking forward to Hartley Bay at the south end of Grenville. We stopped there in June and were told that the “café” (the front yard of a small house) that we enjoyed so much last year would be open in July. The café was not open. The docks were almost empty. There was no activity in the tiny town. The fellow who came to pump fuel was sullen. Our warm fuzzies about Hartley Bay became a fond memory.

Ah, but it was a Canadian Holiday! Maybe all of the residents had gone to Rupert to celebrate. Canada has a lovely tradition of celebrating a holiday each month during the spring and summer, thereby creating a three-day weekend. The clerk at Safeway in Prince Rupert told us the name of the man the holiday was named for, but we promptly forgot it. She wasn’t sure of his claim to fame, but thought that it had something to do with maple syrup.

How does Mother Nature do this??? ‘Headed south from Harley Bay down Fraser Reach toward Butedale. I wanted to tell you that this is in Princess Royal Channel because I like that name better, but you would have recognized it in an instant as Fraser Reach, and then my stellar credibility would be zilch.

August 4 We awoke to sunshine and headed out of our anchorage into THE FOG. We were astounded to discover that the new radar at the helm is much more beneficial than the old radar sitting below at the chart table showing itself the coastline and occasional boat. (This innovation was part of our Christmas packages.) Since we are now in “Fogust” (and you thought it was August), the summer weather pattern is: Fog. Sunshine. No wind in the morning. 15-20 knots of wind in the afternoon. But not to worry. There is another weather front moving in.

Are you ready for another lie-down?

“Do not use these charts for navigation” If you are actually trying to follow each mile (nautical or otherwise) of this adventure, you will notice a black hole. The rest of you can simply enjoy the spirit of the journey with a global understanding that there are a gazillion islands and Shaman visits some of them. (The blue line is the route of the 12-story-high cruise ships.)

View from our anchorage in Wolf Song Bay

Eighty degrees and WOLVES! Well, not at the same time. We are making our way up Roscoe Inlet, anchored in a bay that we have named Wolf Song Bay. It was HOT this afternoon, the water temperature was 71.6 degrees (We know this because of another feature of the Christmas packages; we didn’t order it.) and we sat in the cockpit as dusk and The Insects settled in, listening to the loons. Then we realized those were not all loons. We had two packs of wolves, on opposite sides of the bay, singing to each other. We didn’t feel left out that we couldn’t know the lyrics; we felt fortunate to be able to share the songs.

Twenty–one-mile-long Roscoe Inlet reveled “some of the most scenic and striking granite faces and domes that you can find along the entire Inside Passage” (This time our well-worn Hemmingway-Douglas cruising guide didn’t exaggerate.) We spent the day “ohhhing” and “ahhhing” and then ran longer than planned through very tricky Troop Narrows (shallow, narrow, with rocks and islands) to ...

..........Discovery Bay near Shearwater.

Spending time in all of these dramatic, remote places, pretending that we are self-sufficient, and that we are leaving a very small footprint, has its price. At Shearwater and Bella Bella, we took on water, got fuel, did laundry, dumped our aromatic garbage, changed the engine oil, got rid of the dirty oil, gave Shaman a bath, and bought a few groceries.

Shaman is hiding on the far left.

Shearwater has the only repair facility between Pt. Hardy and Prince Rupert and, although they have a huge travel lift, if you see boats that look more viable than these vessels...

......it means someone had a large, expensive problem

Flashback:
I’m inserting some pictures of Shaman that Darlene (El Buccanero’s mom) took last June just because they feel like our journey!

We’ll continue south in search of more days like this. Our next Chronicle will be from Pt. McNeill on the north end of Vancouver Island; five days if we don’t have to wait for good weather to cross Queen Charlotte Sound.

Chronicle 10 Weather, Repairs, and Angels

2008-07-27T20:34:00.000-07:00

July 16 to July 23

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.

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.

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!

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?

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.

Chronicle 9 Petersburg to Sitka

2008-07-21T15:50:00.000-07:00

Remember when we asked you to use your imagination with the brown bear cubs on the beach? ‘Hope that worked for you. We had an extensive whale show yesterday in Peril Strait. (Traveling though a body of water with that name should have some perks.) Three or four whales exhibiting Very Energetic Whale Behavior entertained us: breeching, doing twists, showing more than a little tail, and vigorous slapping of fins. The fins are huge. We knew that, but it was impressive. Mr. Digital Camera said, You have to be kidding. We knew your imaginations were up to the task. Oh. And don’t forget the audio.

We’ve had a number of whale sighting, but this was the first “show”. Whales and waterfalls are the order of the day in this part of Alaska. We’re far from the glaciers. We did see a few “berggie bits” in Fredrick Sound as we left Petersburg.

On our way to Warm Springs on Baranof Island, (I threw in the name of the island, because I love the sound of it and it is one of the few I can pronounce.) we planned to spend the night at Cannery Cove: "a very secure anchorage". As we came into the bay with 15 knots of wind on our stern, we were greeted with 20 knots on our nose and whitecaps in the cove. The snow-covered mountains surrounding the cove contributed a temperature drop of about 10 degrees. ‘Not high on our list of attributes for a secure anchorage. We crossed Pybus Bay to Henry’s Arm. Don’t know what Henry did to lose his arm, but we appreciated the tiny, calm, warmer spot to dig in Mr. Delta, our well-loved anchor. We have learned not to place all of our bets on the advice in the cruising guides.

Warm Springs is a popular stop with natural hot springs. The day we came into the bay, the dock was full, there were about ten boats anchored in the (deep) bay. We decided to anchor in a tiny cove where we would need to tie the stern to a tree on shore. No, really. That is recommended procedure when you don’t have room for the boat to “swing” on her anchor. The cove proved to be smaller than was comfortable and we were in danger of drifting into one of the walls before we got the dinghy launched to secure the stern. ‘Too much excitement. We brought Mr. Delta back on board and motored out into the bay, headed toward the waterfall for a Photo Opportunity.

Warning: The following paragraph should not be read by people who get hives listening to other people’s minutiae or watching soap operas.

As we came out of the tiny cove we heard “Shaman, this is Celerity. Over." on the VHF . It was Charlie and Wendy Wilcox, from Indianola aboard Celerity, another C&C sailboat, that had just entered the bay. Last spring we had been put in touch with them through mutual friends and said we would keep an eye open for each other. Their eyes were open! Celerity rafted up next to a sailboat on the dock and offered to let us raft outboard of them. No sooner had we tied up than Jim, Adirondack’s skipper (Misty Fiords and Meyer’s Chuck), came over with a piece of salmon that Brad from El Buccanero had given to him before they left, asking Jim to deliver it to us when we arrived. The sailboat that Celerity was rafted to, Majeck from Juneau, is a boat we met last summer in Taku Harbor. Her skipper told us how to get to Juneau without putting our 62’ mast under the 50 foot bridge. I’m not through. You were warned. Allergra, a 54-foot trawler we met last year at Bishops Bay Hot Springs was also on the dock with her wood-carver skipper. And then Ed McMann appeared out of the rain and told us we had won the Clearing House Sweepstakes. Okay, I made up the last part.

Bellingham purse seiners rafted behind us, waiting for a salmon opening in five days.

Doug, impersonating a Canadian Mountie and working on keeping his complexion moist. The falls were impressive and we walked up to….

....the natural hot springs where only this lone handsome male was bathing. Doug restrained me. Yes, those are raindrops on the water. In addition to this pool and two smaller ones below it, the community has built three small bathhouses.

This little guy got his picture taken because to me he represents the tenacity of the people, vegetation, and critters in Southeast; accepting the environment and finding their place to be nourished.

Fish Bay, Peril Strait on the way to Sitka. We anchored here on our way back. We anchored in Baby Bear Bay heading east. No Bears of any age or size in sight.

Mt. Edgecumbe, Sitka’s classic volcano…on the one SUNNY day!

We like Sitka! It has a fascinating history starting with the Tlingit Indians arriving here thousands of years ago. The Russians came in the late 1700’s in search of sea otter pelts, driving off the Tlingits and killing all the sea otters in an excellent imitation of that fine European and US tradition. Finally, when they couldn’t afford it anymore, the Russians sold the whole thing to us.

Critters along Sitka’s waterfront walk to the Raptor Center, Sheldon Jackson Museum, and Sitka’s National Historic Park. I should have had my hat on the halibut’s head. The Public Radio station in Sitka is Raven Radio, with the call letters KCAW and a wonderful raven logo.

Doug's new friend.

Sitka’s Raptor Center rehabilitates injured birds from all over the state. It was started in the ‘80’s by a couple that decided to rescue an injured eagle and it has grown into a well-financed facility.

Sitka’s National Historic Park is the oldest and smallest National Park in the state. It has two miles of trails with replicas of old totem poles and original poles inside the visitors’ center. We have at pictures them all.
The park is on the site of the second conflict between the Tlingits and the Russians in 1804, which the Russians won with the help of their Aleut conscripts. (That would be “slaves”, would it not?

In a shed outside the visitors’ center, as we investigated this totem-pole in-progress, we noticed the book The Blue Bear sitting on a shelf along with an announcement that the pole would be erected in Sitka in honor of Michio Hoshino. Michio was a Japanese photographer who photographed Alaska for most of his life and was killed by a brown bear in Russia. The Blue Bear is the story of Michio’s search for the Kermode bear, known at The Spirit Bear in Canada. Doug and I read the book two years ago and loved the story as well as the spirits of Michio and Lynn Schooler, the author.

We went inside the Visitors’ Center and met the carver, Tommy Joseph, who was commissioned to carve the pole by Michio’s family. He wanted to put Michio on the bottom of the pole, but Michio’s father objected, saying the figure should not represent one person. So Tommy put a camera lens in the figure’s hands and put Michio’s face in the blowhole of the whale. A bear is on top, to represent Michio’s unmet quest. At Tommy’s suggestion we bought The Only Kayak, another book by a friend of Michio’s, as well as Hoshino’s Alaska, one of the few books of Michio’s photographs with his essays in English. Michio’ family will be at the pole raising in Sitka on August 8th, the twelfth anniversary of his death.

Investigating a medium-sized Southeast skunk cabbage. I wonder if it is the State Plant.

Sitka's Russian cemetrary where we found mostly Scandinavian and Native names.

We took a boat ride! But you knews that. No, not on Shaman. On a tour boat. Oh. I forgot to tell you our Sitka Small-Southeast story! That leads to the tour boat. You else do you have to do?

In Sitka, we were moored across from a new trawler. The second day we were here, Doug saw the name: Hono (Her tender’s name is Lulu. Story will follow.) Hono was at Liberty Bay Marina, Shaman’s homeport this spring while her owner was outfitting her (brand new boat). Doug had chatted with the skipper a few times. We walked across the dock to introduce ourselves.

Sandy and Wade, Hono’s owners, live in Denver in the winter and work in Sitka in the summer. (He used to live on Bainbridge.) They just got their permanent moorage in Sitka after being on the waiting list for five year. They both work for Allen Tours in the summers on the tour boats that serve the cruise ships: Sandy as a naturalist and Wade as a skipper. They took this summer off to commission Hono and bring her north. They, of course, highly recommended that we take one of the “local tours” to go out to St. Larzia Island to see The Puffins! In addition to wanting to see Skagway, Haines, et al, I had wanted to see Puffins on this trip. We paid our money and took our chances.

I promised the maning of Hono’s name. (you were hoping I would forget?) “Hono” means “sea turtle” in Hawaiian (or maybe just “turtle”). Wade thought that since the boat is slow like a turtle and since she carries their home on her back, she resembled a turtle. And then the tender had to be Lulu. Why not?

Tour boat! We saw a raft of sea otters. We didn’t know their groupings were called rafts. One little guy was away from the raft, showing us exemplary sea otter behavior, up close and natural. No pictures. Well, one. Next ,the whales were doing their amazing whale thing. We sped out to St. Lazaria, fifteen miles off the coast, for the puffins and mures. It was well worth the price of admission.

Sitka is home to many “firsts” in the 49th state, including the first “Pioneers’ Home”. In the early 1900’s (long before Alaska was a state), a compassionate group of people realized that something should to be done for the ageing prospector population and were able to procure this handsome Marine Corps facility. That is not a soldier in front. It is some poor soul on a quest. Alaska takes care of its own.

In Petersburg, we saw bumper stickers supporting one side of a current economic issue: Friends Don’t Let Friends Eat Farmed Salmon. This is not a local issue. We’ve seen the same bumper stickers on Bainbridge. However, in a town where fishing is the only industry, the issue is intensified. In Sitka we saw this bumper sticker…

The commercial fishing industry has been regulated for many years, with allocations carefully calculated to keep the resource alive. In the past few years, the sports fishing charter companies have become an industry, and the resource is being impacted. Until very recently, this impact has not been acknowledged. The frustrated commercial fishers were in the untenably position of not being allowed to fish (because there was not an opening) but the sports fishing boats were peeling out of the harbors, taking advantage of extremely liberal halibut limits. (Salmon have long been carefully regulated for both sports and commercial fishers.)

We left Sitka, headed back though Peril Strait. We have all of the charts to go either north or south from Sitka on the outside (that would be the Pacific Ocean side), but the prudent mariner only does that if the weather is “settled”. Our weather has been settled: Rain and Wind. Probably not what Sailing Directions had in mind.

Chronicle 8 Petersburg to Juneau to Petersburg...or not

2008-07-12T22:19:00.000-07:00

June 30th to July 5th

The Petersburg Harbormaster assigned Shaman a slip in the South Harbor where she stayed with the Big Boys, the purse seiners, last year. These boats are larger than the ones in Ketchikan, and Shaman was excited. Imagine her disappointment when we headed toward her assigned berth, and there were….no boats! Well, very few. There was a salmon opening and anyone who had a boat in working order and could afford the fuel was gone. To Shaman’s delight, they returned the next day, complete with the noise of their pumps and the smell of rather old fish.

When one fishery closes and another opens, the skippers have to change to a net with a different size opening. We saw no advertisements for fitness centers in Petersburg.

These bins of fishhooks (about thirty inches across) are for one of the “long liners”. Does someone really bait each of those? Each boat has dozens of bins. How do they keep them from grabbing onto each other??? And who gets to store them back in the bins???

The fishing industry is not for sissies.

Petersburg, a town of about 3000, is “Alaska’s Little Norway” with very little Indian influence. Some of the expedition boats and small cruise boats stop here, but not the large cruise ships. The city gets about 40,00 tourists a year and has Great Ice Cream at Papa Bear’s Pizza! No wonder they come.
Hammer Slough at low tide.

We liked the fence. The basket ball hoop adds a "sense of place". People live here.

Gardening in Petersburg.

Doug’s question to me on our first day in Petersburg: Why are you using the magnifying glass to read?

For the last three weeks, I had been having difficulty reading. (No, not understanding the meaning…seeing the words on the page.) When I started having trouble deciphering the numbers on the chart plotter (giving me important information such as how much water is in a bay), we decided I should seek help. I called my optometrist on Bainbridge who was insistent that I get to an ophthalmologist SOON. Duh. He probably wonders why I even bothered to call.

Petersburg has a visiting ophthalmologist (from OREGON!) who had left two days earlier. Juneau has an ophthalmologist; it takes Shaman three days to get to Juneau. That would have been July 4th. Not too many appointments available.

A brief history to the Fernandes family’s encounters with ophthalmologists: Two years ago, Doug had an eye problem when we were on Molokai and had to fly to Honolulu for treatment. His problem was “time sensitive” and it took almost a year for his vision to return to normal. Delaying was not an option. Doug went to the Harbormaster’s office to extend our stay, and I started researching travel options and made reservations at an inn in downtown Juneau.

I made an appointment with the Juneau ophthalmologist for July 1st. Alaska Airlines could get me to Juneau in time for the appointment, but couldn’t get me back on Petersburg’s runway until after July 5th. What kind of an airline is THAT? Ah ha! Alaska Marine Highways could bring me “home” on July 3rd, arriving at 3:45 in the morning....in time for the parade on the 4th!

So, on Tuesday, we got a ride to the airport, and I left Doug and Shaman and headed for the big city. Before the plane climbed above the clouds, I could see Petersburg, Wrangell Narrows, and Fredrick Sound. Fredrick sound is HUGE. And we were going there in our little boat. I was very impressed and somewhat in awe of what we were undertaking. Yes, we had been in the same body of water last year, but I didn’t know IT WAS THAT BIG.

In Juneau, Dr. Preece (who was NOT 12, as are many of the health care professionals these days) made “ah ha” noises as he carefully studied my left eyeball; that did not decrease my anxiety The diagnosis was “Central Serous Retinopathy”. It might get worse before it gets better and there is no treatment for it, but it usually improves on its own. Next to giving me a shot or a pill to cure it, this was the best news I could have had.The day after my eyeball appointment was sunny and warm and I was elated with my outlook (literally). Juneau has more miles of trails than miles of roads and many of the trails start from downtown. I went for a hike on the Preservation Mine trail along Gold Creek to Silver Bow Basin where Joe Juneau and Richard Harris found the ‘mother lode’ that started the gold rush 1880. I came around a bend in the trail and a cold blast of air from this old mineshaft hit me in the face. In addition to the miles of trails, the city has miles of tunnels. They are not an attraction.

I loved this sign; there was no guardrail on the trail. Doug and I find it disturbing that so many natural attraction have impressive devices to Keep People From Doing Something Stupid. We’re in Alaska. Your wife slipped off the cliff and is now your deceased wife? Didn’t she see the sign? Bummer.

Old mining machinery at the bottom of steep cliff

Not a cliff, but do take care. Those little dots on the left are a dog and his people. About two out of three people walking the trail had doggz with them. When I went up the trail, it was bear-scat-free. On my return trip, I passed a recent deposit. Did you see the bear? ‘Didn’t see the bear. Just as well. My bear bells were on the boat.

The snowfield near the end of the trail prevented me from going to the end. I’d been walking with a couple from B’ham who drive tour buses. They knew the way over the snowfield to the Silver Bow Mine. They were 22 years old. I was not.

Gardening in the Tongass National Forest

Gold Creek

Last tree standing after an avalanche. (Or maybe just a snow slide.) Juneau ‘s electric supply was wiped out in April by a huge avalanche 40 miles to the south. The city has been using diesel-powered generators; electric prices are sky high. All of the businesses have reduced lighting and signs reminding customers of why they can’t see anything. People have been drying their clothes outside and there are no clothespins available. One woman had a relative in the Lower 48 ship her hundreds of clothespins and has been giving them to the poor. Aren’t small towns are the best!?? The electric supply should be restored in late July. I don’t know when they’ll get clothespins back in stock.

At the end of the hike, I went to the Mining Museum. These cruise line passengers were panning for gold, and I waded across the creek to join them. The tour guides must have Sensed An Intruder. They collected all of the pans and herded their charges safely back on the buses. I didn’t have much better luck at the museum. The gentleman at the desk was a former miner from Arizona and this was his first day volunteering. I think he might have been more at home in the mines. ‘Not too forthcoming with information. Oh well. I never remember those details anyway.

On Thursday, I took the bus to the Mendenhall Glacier on my way to Auke Bay to catch the ferry. Doug and I came here last year. It hadn’t changed much, as far as I could see; still magnificant. I enjoyed the signs on the trails…

These signs were twenty feet apart.

Stone fence on Mendenhall Loop Highway. Use what is available

Waiting to board the Matanuska, I noticed bout 30 second and third graders, looking like they were going to camp. They were actually headed home to Petersburg from Bible camp in Juneau and though nothing of camping on the ferry. ‘The only way to travel in Southeast.

On-time in Petersburg at 3:45 (AM).

While I was gone, El Buccanero docked directly behind Shaman in Petersburg. We last saw Brad and Darlene on our first Ketchikan visit. Doug had company when he wasn’t doing boat projects! They had gone north for a few days and came back to Petersburg to pick up a five-day-overnight-delivery cell phone to replace their dead phone.

We went to the 4th of July parade together.

Coast Guardsman from the local station

The Grand Marshall was the school bus supervisor who had driven school buses for 20 years. I think she should have been Queen.

The theme of the parade was Uncle Salmon Wants You! These dancing ladies from the cannery entertained us with a song about can-caning wild salmo Lots of kids!!!

Leaving Petersburg on July 5ht, headed for Sitka five or six days away. Two or three of these seals slid off the buoy as we went by and swam after our boat, begging for fish. The fishermen spoil them.

Chronicle 7 Meyers Chuck to Petersburg

2008-07-12T20:04:00.000-07:00

June 25-29

If you can read the red numbers, they indicate how far north of Seattle we are.

About an hour out of Meyers Chuck on Friday morning, our cell phone rang. Having cell phone reception in the middle of Clarence Strait is about as likely as having a white Christmas on Bainbridge. And guess who it was! The reception was somewhat broken, so I didn’t get his name, but he was from Darrell Emmel Tree Service on Bainbridge, probably asking if we wanted out trees sprayed…. couldn’t hear him too well. I told him that I was on a sailboat in Alaska and there were a lot of trees here for him to trim, but the transportation costs might be a little high. ‘Wish I could have understood his reply. (Our electronic chart sometimes notes “Wooded” and “Heavily Wooded”. We can’t tell the difference and wonder why they bother. It is ALL heavily wooded.)

Weather:

Conversation on the VHF radio between two fishermen:

“That’s about the worst weather I’ve ever heard for this time of year.”
“Yeah, we had 55 on the meter as we turned into the bay. Where did that come from?”

“Right, they changed the forecast after it started to blow at 4:00.”

Ah ha! We are not wimps. The weather IS unseasonably cold, wet, and windy. (The fishermen know.) Doug is close to suicidal, unless I’m reading that wrong, and he is actually homicidal. I have better drugs, but I’m not willing to share…yet. At one point, we briefly toyed with the idea of going back to Canada, but couldn't get south because of the weather at the Dixon Entrance. One source of information says that the area around Ketchikan gets an average of six inches a rain each month in the summer. We got that in one night last week. But, are we complaining? Yes.

There is a high weather system coming in which should impreove things a bit. Last year we only “waited out” one day for weather. I guess we were spoiled. We like being spoiled.

Shaman sallied on under overcast skies and spent a night at a US Forest Service float that had specific instructions stenciled in large letters telling us not to tie up unless we HAD PERMISSION. Not only did we not have permission, but we were joined by another C&C sailboat, Stealth. Of course, with a name like that, you don’t ask permission. Stealth and Shaman spent a nice night in the rain, chatting about whatever boats talk about when the skippers and crew have gone to bed.

Leaving our illegal dock and Stealth in Frosty Bay

Larger–than-Shaman-and-Stealth-sailboat in Frosty Bay. He did not share our dock.

ROCKS WITH LEGS! ROCKS WITH LEGS! Winding through Zimovia Strait on June 28th, Doug spotted two grizzly cubs (BIG children!) on the beach. We couldn’t get close enough to take pictures that would look like anything other than rocks with legs (‘way too shallow), but it was fun watching with the binoculars. Use your imagination: tanny-gold color, long fur, grizzly humps, Disney-looking nose, eyes and ears; snuffing in the grass and brush for bear nibbles. Aren’t they cute? Following a crab boat into Wrangell

Wrangell has good pizza! Note lack of rain.

Boat names. The picture actually looks better than the real thing. It had gear on it indicating that it had been off-shore (many years years ago). We would love to know the story.

Wrangell Harbor in the morning. We would have stayed another day, but the weather forecast was good and we decided we had best head for Petersburg.

Heading for Wrangell Narrows

Wrangell Narrow, leading to Petersburg, is about 25 miles east of Wrangell. It’s 21 miles long, with 60 navigation aids. In some areas, the dredged channel is narrow; you hope you don’t meet a large commercial boat or a cruise ship in those spots. Shaman tucked in her almost-eight-foot-keel and we paid close attention to charts and nav markers for the next four hours.

The only commercial traffic we met in the Narrows.

Approaching Petersburg. That long blue tube-like apparatus on the left is part of the Alaska Marine Highway terminal. You will encounter it again in the next Chronicle.

Last channel marker. The guidebooks say there are 60 navigation devices. We didn’t see numbers 59 and 60.

We love Petersburg: very picturesque, nice people, and exquisite smoked salmon. We spent four days here last year waiting for overnight delivery of a boat part. (We have since learned that is within the average range.)

Chronicle 6 Misty Fiords to Meyers Chuck

2008-07-12T13:08:00.000-07:00

June 20-26

Misty Fiord National Monument lies within the broad zone of active volcanism and other mountain-building processes that ring the Pacific basin. The region is characterized by deep valleys, steep slopes, and narrow inter-valley ridges. Extensive glaciation during the last ice age has created characteristic U-shaped valleys, serrated ridges, horned peaks, and cirque basin.

....US Forest Service pamphlet

….AND WE TOOK PICURES OF THEM ALL! Don’t panic. Only a few escaped to the blog.This is not the end of the inlet. It went on for ten miles. When we came into Punchbowl Cove, we were surprised to get a call on the VHF from the boat tied up to the only buoy in the cove, asking if we wanted to raft up. Yes!

After dinner we shared wine and boating stories with Diane and Jim aboard Adirondack. Those of you reading this who own a Hans Christian sailboat will recognize her as a Hans Christian Independence. My father was the keeper of the Eddystone Light.
He married a mermaid one fine night.
And from that union, there came three,
A porpoise, a porgy, and the other was me.
Yo, ho, ho. The wind blows free.
Oh, for a life on the rolling sea!
.......Sea shanty that only Strange Old People hum

New Eddystone Rock got its name from Captain George Vancouver because of its resemblance to the lighthouse rock off of Plymouth, England. Rising 230 feet out of the middle of Behm Canal, it is impressive; AND we had Dahl’s porpoises playing in our bow wake in keeping with the sea shanty.

On Sunday, we tied up to a buoy early in the day in an idyllic sunny cove with a stream that promised a good possibility of viewing “rocks with legs” our new term for bears. Before we launched Ratty for a dinghy-explore, Doug decided to tighten some screws in the pump housing of the toilet that we had rebuilt, in Ketchikan. Stopping a minor drip seemed like a good idea at the time, but it was a very BAD idea. Salt water started spraying from the pump housing each time we pumped the toilet. Not horrible, but what if the housing separated? It needed to be repaired.

We revised our crusings plans, untied from the buoy, and headed for Shoalwater Pass where we had anchored our first night out of Ketchikan. As we came out of Walker Cove, we had fifteen knots of wind on our nose. Where did that come from??? The next morning as we headed for Ketchikan, we were about an hour ahead of a disgusting weather system that settled in for two days.

The good news is that we found a “plug and play” part for Mr. Toilet at Murray Pacific, a way-cool marine store. The fix involved taking off two hoses and four screws: the best kind of toilet repair!

We left Ketchikan in a “weather window” (only fifteen knots in Clarence Strait) headed for Meyers Chuck, a bullet- proof anchorage with a nice state dock. We love Meyers Chuck.

Now, isn’t this a great way to keep critters and religious zealots away from your door? We chatted for some time this gentleman who has fished in Alaska for years; ‘well educated and knowledgeable about the fishery and about life! He gave us wonderful rockfish. We gave him brownies. Gardening at Myers Chuck

The family that purchased this old burned out fishing resort property is hoping to make it into a vacation cabin. When the tide is in, those boards leading to the dock are barely afloat. We didn’t see anything that wasn’t rotten or about to fall down. Alaska dreams. We're sure they’ll make it work. It won’t look like Better Homes and Gardens, but it will work.

Mrs. Spider wasn’t home when we visited this artwork last year. We enjoyed meeting her.

A samll part of the Inside Passage cruising community. That is Adirondack behind Shaman. (I know you can’t see Shaman. Look for the mast.) Final Approach, ahead of us, moors at Eagle Harbor Marina where we lived for four years. And Sea Star, with her stern to you, belongs to a couple who brought her across the Gulf of Alaska from Anchorage. Oh my. That would take skill and courage.

Almost-A-Chonicle July 5th

2008-07-05T09:52:00.000-07:00

As we have traveled up the coast, we have been using (stealing?) un-encrypted yi-fi hot spots to access our e-mail and publish the blog. In Petersburg (where we have been for a number of days), our pilfered access would not allow us to publish photos, so we signed up for hotalaska.com. We are not too bright. “Hot” and “Alaska”??? hotalsaka.com does not allow us to publish photos. Since the Chronicles don’t make much sense without the photos, and even then it is a stretch, we’re publishing a disclaimer. We’ll try again in Sitka…about five (5) Shaman-Days away.

Soooo….when we finally re-appear, we’ll have at least three Chronicles. Can you hardly wait???

Chronicle 5 Alaska!

2008-06-29T18:29:00.000-07:00

Alaska...the very thing we were hoping for!

The magenta line (can you even see it?) is our transit from Prince Rupert, crossing the Dixon Entrance in calm weather and spending the night at Foggy Bay with El Buccanero. You can’t see the majority of the Dixon Entrance, the open water between Tree Point and the Queen Charlotte Islands, carefully hidden under the title. The yellow line is our transit to Ketchikan the next day. You can’t see the rain and snotty weather on that part of the trip. It never shows up on the charts.

We cleared Customs in Ketchikan on June 17th…not an easy task. We forgot that Alaska is not actually part of the United States and does not necessarily share information with our government. A polite Customs Official came down to the boat (after a wait of almost two hours) to look at our passports and write things on a form. Our very official-looking Nexus cards might as well have been Kitsap County Library cards. He only inspected paperwork and, upon leaving, did not see Doug kicking himself for throwing two bottles of expensive Canadian wine (there is no other kind) overboard to avoid a Custom’s problem.

Between the Customs experience and difficulty communicating with the harbormaster, we were not feeling too welcome in Alaska as we sent off on an explore to a nearby hardware store in search of a hand drill. At anchor one evening last week, we needed to drill holes to mount a replacement light fixtures in the head (that is where the potty is, in case you don’t speak Boat). ‘ Could not find the proverbial current bush for Mr. Dewalt Drill, so we rowed over to El Buccanero to use his inverter. Doug has long wanted a little hand drill he could use when we don’t have AC power and that was the excuse he needed.

Nice hardware store. Helpful people. No hand drills. One of the helpful clerks DID know what we were talking about, but after searching, concluded that Madison Lumber and Hardware did not carry antique tools. We thanked him and as we wandered toward the door, he reappeared with.....

in his hands. “Just how badly do you want one? This has been sitting on my workbench for years and none of my employees know what it is.” We paid the $5 asking price and went on our way, happy little consumers. Ketchikan looked much friendlier

The following (SUNNY!) day, we took the city bus to Saxman, an Indian community south of town with impressive totem poles. The driver was chatting with two passengers from New Mexico who mentioned that they had lived in Seattle for number of years. Our driver had grown up in Seattle and graduated from Rainer Beach High School. (Don’t you love public transportation, and why am I telling you this? Be patient.)

After the cruise ship passengers got on in town, our driver became a tour guide: There is very little topsoil on the island. The horses that you see in town hauling the tourists around go to Spokane for the winter because there is not pasture land here. There is only one Indian reservation in the whole state…Metlakatla on Annette Island. We learned other interesting tidbits, but you have those socks to sort, so I will go on to the next piece of trivia.

When we got off the bus, I asked the driver where she had lived in Seattle, because I grew up at Rainier Beach. The world is very small, or at least Seattle it. She lived on the same street Doug lived on and three doors down from his best friend in high school. Well, we thought it was interesting.

Mike Hughes, former fisherman who went to art school and is now working with a master carver. We noticed that the cruise ship tours did not come into the carving shed but those of us who were allowed out without an escort wandered in to watch and ask questions.

No butter for him. Salmon preferred.

Doug couldn’t get him to smile.

Doug urging me to come into the long house for a performance that was about to begin. We blended in with the cruise ship passengers and attempted to take pictures. Well, that didn’t work, but can you hear the drums and the singing?
We hope so. The show by the Cape Fox Dancers was impressive.

This totem pole was outside the totem park. It seemed very much at home.
How do these guys do on a barge trip to Seattle and then a truck to Spokane??? ‘Seems like a tough way to get a vacation. We liked his doggz.

Cheeseburger in Paradise. We stopped here last year and returned because of the great slogan. Check out the name and see below…
. They were probably right.

We love boat names: Recess Time, Empty Pocket, and Piggy Bank are some names we saw on pleasure boats. Then there are the fishing boats...

We parted company with El Buccanero and her crew on June 20th headed for the Behm Canal and Misty Fiords National Monument. (That is the way it is spelled in the guidebooks.)

'View of Ketchikan and Revillagigedo Island from Tongass Narrows southbound, port side.

View of Gravina Island from Tongass Narrows, southbound, starboard side. Which Alaska do we like the best?

Chronicle 4: BC's Inside Passage and Idle Thoughts

2008-06-19T21:04:00.000-07:00

This is so confusing, and it's my own fault. I should not have used numbers in the Chronicles. Numbers indicate some type of order. I hope that you can find order in some other part of your life, because it is not happening in these Chronicles.

And what is with the underlining??? When I copied and pasted from my Word document, some of the paragraphs were in blue and underlined. 'Can't make it go away, although I was able to get black letters.

Chronicle 4

Sunday, June 8, Day 16,

“That is the worst weather forecast I have ever heard.” I think Doug might have been exaggerating a bit, but I agreed it is a truly lousy outlook. We were anchored in Green Island Anchorage at the beginning of the Inside Passage, having rounded Cape Caution that morning under favorable conditions. For those of you who didn’t make the trip with us last year, or were not paying attention, Cape Caution is the first of two areas that are open to THE OCEAN. Our “weather window” that allowed us to finally leave Port McNeill and round the cape was closing. That was short. Words like gale and wind speed predictions of four-oh and five-oh (that is 40 and 50 in real-person talk) off the coast make a person want to go back to bed.

Speaking of going back to bed, Shaman was really tired when we left at o’dark hundred to round Cape Caution. Bard and Darlene had joined us in Allison Harbor the night before on El Buccanero, their 34’ Wilber lobster boat. Shaman was built in Ontario, Canada. El Buccanero was built in Maine, but has lived most of his adult life in San Diego. I’m assuming he speaks both Maine and Spanish. Shaman speaks Northwest and Canadian. We’re in Canada. Shaman spent most of the night teaching Canadian to El Buccanero. They were both exhausted. Doug says that is not what they were doing.

After waiting for a day at Green Island for the predicted gale-force winds which never materialized, El Buccanero’s crew decided to continue north in spite of Weather 2’s warnings of mayhem. Shaman followed at her usual leisurely pace, headed for Shearwater where we got to Change The Oil and Do The Laundry.

El Buccanero waiting for good weather at Green Island Anchorage

Announcement on the VHF radio yesterday as we left the Native settlement of Bella Bella: There will be a meeting at 11:00 at the Big House to listen to the official apology from Prime Minister Harper to all of the survivors of Canada’s Native residential schools. The meeting will start at 11:00. The announcement will be at noon. We thought of the people our age and much younger who had been taken from their families to learn the white man’s ways at St. Michael’s Residential School at Alert Bay.

New Toys and Old People
Prior to our trip north last year, we took a seminar about cruising the Inside Passage. We were told we should always have the VHF radio on so we could be aware of what was going on. Our VHF radio was permanently installed at the chart table where we could occasionally hear it talking to itself. Consequently, we rarely had it on. For Christmas, one of us got a fancy new VHF radio with a remote microphone at the helm. (That be the place at the square end of the boat with the wheel.)

In the early ‘70’s when Doug and I started boating, you had to have a license to use a VHF radio. You didn’t have to take any classes, but you had to apply and probably had to somehow verify that you knew up from down and were aware of the VHF Radio Protocol. We still have our little cards in with our boat documents. At some point, the People Who Issue Little Cards found other things to do. Licenses and VHF radio call signs went the way of black and white television and reel-to-reel recording tape. Since we rarely had our radio on to listen to how people actually use it, we were not aware that radio protocol is no longer followed. Maybe it never was, but when I hear women chattering away, I long for the days of licensing requirements. (This is a very sexist viewpoint, since I am so not critical of the commercial fishermen who chat back and forth.)

The new radio has a several dials and knobs and a six or seven buttons with various functions. One of the buttons says OFF. We read the manual and discovered that if you push that button, all of the noise goes away. Even old people can adjust.

Cruising boaters use the VHF when coming into a boat harbor to inquire about moorage. You state the name of the marina or boat harbor on the designated channel and identify your boat. The language is scripted. It goes like this: Port McNeill Harbor Master, this is the sailing vessel Shaman. Over. And you wait for them to reply. Of course, it is not the sailing vessel Shaman talking. She’s not allowed to use the radio, but no one mentions this talking-boat oddity. So why am I telling you this? I was listening yesterday and heard: Prince Rupert Rowing and Yacht Club, This is the pleasure boat Last Resort. I’d never thought of it before. Sailboats are sailing vessels. Powerboats are pleasure vessels. Does that mean that we are NOT pleasure vessels…..and who told????

June 13th

"Don’t hit the tree." Always good advice for a cruising boat skipper. We were maneuvering to anchor in 45 feet of water. We’re not sure how much water the tree trunk was anchored in.

Day 28 June 19 We're in Ketchikan, headed for Misty Fiords tomorrow. See what I mean about the numbers? We'll be back in cyber-land in about a week.

Chronicle 3.5 Pictures!

2008-06-15T20:29:00.000-07:00

June 15
We’re at The Prince Rupert Rowing and Yacht Club and will head to ALASKA tomorrow, which means we can put up our Alaska flag. Shaman is very excited. Of course, we won’t be in a part of Alaska that anyone has ever heard of. Foggy Bay is not on any cruise ship’s itinerary. It is on the itinerary of all cruising boats. It may be crowded.

Prince Rupert was celebrating the third day of their “Seafest” celebration, so we went down to the waterfront to see what was going on. Unfortunately, all of the good stuff was on Saturday: pie throwing and arm wresting and a car show. Actually, we saw the schedule later, and the community had done a great job; lots of activities for families and young people.

Pictures! Narrative will follow.

Shearwater marina. The mega yachts were stacked on each side of the dock. I was like walking througha tunel; you couldn't see the water. El Buccanero and Shamantalked

told us thatt amost of them were friendly. Buttedale. We actually tied to the dock last year. It is not improving.

Source of power at Butedale.

This be a waterfall. I don't have them categorized yet.

Waterfall, again. We don't get bored. I did not take pictures of ALL of them. Most. Not all

Leaving Hartley Bay, small Native settlement. The cafe we enjoyed last year (the front yard of a family's house) does not open until July. That make sense. It was raining and probably 50 degrees the day we came in. Talk about dining al fresco.

Handsome fish boat in Grenville Channel, The Ditch: a straight 45 mile natural canal south of Prince Rupert.

Prince Rupert Rowing and Yacht Club. 'Didn't want you to have delusions of grandure when I refer to it in the log.

Old fire truck and old people.

Darlene learning about curling.

Middle school kids getting ready to race that really strange canoe at the Seafest celebration in Prince Rupert. Who do you suppose designed the canoe? Hiawatha, maybe? Are we in EASTERN Canada

My BEAR! I did see a bear on the beach! (I was not on the beach.) Doug told me it was a rock, but then it started to move.

Eagles at Prince Rupert. They're like seagulls on Bainbridge.

Chronicle 3 Stuart Island to Port McNeill

2008-06-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

Chronicle 3
June 1 We’ve never anchored three times in one day. Shaman transited Dent Rapids at 8:30 in the morning, Green Point Rapids at 3:30 and Whirlpool Rapids at 8:30 at night. Between each slack water, we had to anchor to wait for the next tidal exchange. When we stopped near Green Point to decide where to wait for slack water, Shaman went backwards at two knots, then circled 180 degrees in the current and was “underway with no way on” at three knots, playing in the little whirlpools and back eddies. We put her in gear, turned her around, and found a calm spot for lunch. Our final anchorage was Douglas Bay, (only two miles from Whirlpool) where we anchored last year in the company of Herself. Shaman was disappointed not to find her friend there. Tomorrow we head for the Johnston Straits.

June 2

Are there supposed to be whitecaps in the anchorage?

I’m not going to write any more. I’m not having fun.

June 3 Okay. I’m back. The whitecaps were in Burial Cove. What would you expect with a name like that? BAD WEATHER was predicated when we departed Douglas Bay. We checked out three anchorages off the Johnstone Straits, settling on Burial Cove because it appeared to be most protected from easterly winds. Looks can be deceiving. However, the weather gods were kind, and the 15-20 knot winds died down before dark, allowing us to sleep without the depth sounder and knot meter on.

June 5 Our third day at Port McNeill. We like Port McNeill, but a three days is excessive. One yacht left early yesterday morning and made it around Cape Caution. Another left an hour later and had to turn back because of the wind and high seas. We set our alarm for 4:30 this morning, listened to the weather, and went back to sleep. I’m sure everyone else at the docks did the same. Our destination is more about 40 miles from here, (that means six to eight hours) so we need a big weather window. Maybe tomorrow.

Cruising Terminology: How do you know if you are looking at a yacht or simply a very large expensive boat? Questions like this come to mind when you are trying to pass the time in The Rain. Darlene and Brad had the answer. A yacht has two radomes, not one. This is helpful information since we are seeing many yachts and very large expensive boats. Their skippers don’t keep track of the price of diesel fuel.

School bus taking middle school track team back to Malcolm Island. Yes, the dog came with the team.

Bus to Alert Bay

We were mussing and fussing on the boat yesterday when we heard a VERY LOUD NOISE coming from somewhere inside the boat. I was below and started looking for a source, starting with the bilge. Doug was checking on deck. It sounded like water rushing, but we don’t have a three-foot diameter through-hull fitting. Doug’s description: a huge hole saw. It stopped when we turned off the switch to the 110-shore power. We stared at each other in disbelief. We’ve got a BIG problem. How do you start trouble-shooting that one???

I stuck my head out the companionway and saw people gathered on the dock, talking about “noise”. I trotted over and joined their conversation. What do you suppose it was? Did you see everyone dive to check out their bilges? It had happened twice earlier in the day while we were on shore. Our shore power switch and the sound ceasing were purely coincidental. We never did figure it out. The ferry to Alert Bay comes in on the other side of the breakwater, so that was probably the source. ‘Haven’t heard it again, but it did get us together to exchange weather complaints.

What to do in The Rain on your third day at Port McNeill

Jean looking for a new home.

June 6 Yet another day at lovely Port McNeill. The gale force southeasterly winds abated and then switched to gale force northeasterly. We took the ferry to Alert Bay with Darlene and Brad from San Diego. Photos tell the story.

Port McNeill boat harbor. Shaman is not visible, but we know she is there.

All aboard for Alert Bay, Cormorant Island.

Darlene and Doug in front of Arch welcoming us to Alert Bay. The figure in the middle is a human; you can tell by the hands. The identical animals on each end (are those bears?) looking in different directions represent holding or accepting the opposite forces of life. The curlies on the head of the human show that this is representing his spirit, not an actual person. According to the gentleman who explained this to me, the First Nations people's lives are all about transformation, and this carving represents the ultimate human condition, with life forces in perfect balance.

Van belonging to the First Mate on the ferry. His grandkids had painted it for him. Cute, eh? He’s the one who told me about the meaning of the carvings on the arch.

Old ‘Namgis Burial Grounds You were not allowed to walk on the grounds because when the totems fall, they are allowed to rot, no repairs are done; therefore, you could unknowingly be walking on a gravesite.

Darlene and I studying map of The Gator Gardens, a bog on the top of a hill with a bizarre origin (haphazardly man-caused). In the 1880’s the owners of a fish slatery changed their operation to a fish cannery. They build a dam halfway down the hill to store fresh water for the cannery; within five years, all of the trees died as a result of the flooding. In the 1920’s the trees caught fire (children and a community celebration were involved) and the community had to call in planes to drop water to extinguish the flames.
It got its name because it looks like a place that might have gators. They now call it an Ecological Preserve, but don’t you think the original name is better?

‘Gators here?

That be airplane parts to the left of the red building. We created a story.

Totem carvers on beach.

Chain saws are allowed.

You can create your own story.

Former St. Michael’s Residential School in use until the 1970’s. The residents of Alert Bay have elected to keep it as part of their history. We talked to a man in his ‘70’s who lived on Village Island (a small island across the Johnston Straits) as a young boy. When he was old enough to go to school, his family moved to Alert Bay so that he would not have to be separated from them.

G00d idea.

We followed the sign and met Bruce Alfred who specialized in steam-bent boxes and chests; his workshop is in the basement of the former school building. He is currently working with groups of school children to introduce them to carving skills and just received the BC Creative Achievement Award for Aboriginal Art. (We saw the article in the local newspaper.)

U’mista Cultural Center adjacent to the former school building

Potlatches were outlawed in Canada in 1884. In 1921 forty-five people were charged with taking part in a potlatch and all of their coppers, masks, rattle, and whistles were confiscated and distributed among museums and private collections thought out North America. The Band has been working for years to repatriate the articles, and opened this Cultural Center in the 1980’s to display what the government and individuals have returned to them. They have a video with interviews with many Band members as well as part of the dedication ceremony. All of the masks and other articles are displayed (no cases because the people felt they needed to be free) along with correspondence among various government officials that would be laughable if it had not been so damaging.

In the early days, people were sometimes taken captive by raiding parties. When they returned to their homes, either through payment of ransom or by a retaliatory raid, they were said to have u’mista. The return of the treasures from distant museums is a form of u’mista.

“World’s Tallest Totem Pole” How tall is it?, you ask. We’re not sure. From the brochure: It is comprised of a 163 for and a 10-foot pole, making it 173 feet tall. During the Nimpkish wind in November 2007 the top of the totem pole fell to the ground. We don’t know how tall it is. Taller than Doug.

New burial grounds…1970’s to present

Alert Bay fades into the distance and we head back to 22-knot winds at the boat harbor and an early departure for Alison Harbor in the morning if the wind gods are willing.

Chronicle 2 Pender Harbor to Stuart Island

2008-06-04T18:01:00.000-07:00

Day 6 We are still in familiar cruising grounds. You’ve heard that familiarity breeds contempt. Complacency in our case. We were tied up at the dock at Madera and had paid for hydro (we’re in Canada, eh?) so we lazed around in the morning, enjoying our coffee and electric heaters. A walk to the post office and the requisite swapping of stories on the dock resulted in a leisurely 11:00 departure. No problem. We were only going to Desolation Sound: straight, easy shot.

Predicted 5-15 southeast winds assured us of a fine sail. We motored over smooth waters and watched a sailboat pitch and roll at the mouth of the harbor before he turned back into the bay. Binoculars enlarged the dark gray water and white froth to show the considerable swell. Our fine sail was going to be a slog in high winds with large following seas. Shaman made a smart about-face and snuggled into Garden Bay, twirling leisurely on her anchor. The crew read and napped, ignoring the 27 little jobs that they assured themselves they would do underway.

Old Geezer note: As I was talking with an Old Geezer on the dock, enjoying his stories of growing up in this harbor and building his 50’ boat, I realized that we are probably the same age as the Old Geezer. I’m still working with that one.

Old Geezer's beloved boat. It looked better in real life.

Weather forecast definitions and conundrums: Last year the US forecasters added breezy to their lexicon. I personally find numbers helpful. We’re now working with strong, moderate, and strong- to- moderate. Today’s forecast was for strong winds: 10-15. In the same for cast, strong was used with 20-25. Now, we consider that an important difference. Maybe we’re being too picky. After all, they are only words. And numbers. I did enjoy the “outlook”: A mix of sun and clouds today. Cloudy with sun on Friday. Saturday, sunny with cloudy periods. How many ways can you say the same thing, and does the ratio of sun and clouds change according to the arrangement of the words? I think I need more to do.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Recommended reading: Fishing with John, a book by a female journalist for The New Yorker (I think) who came to BC to write a story about fishing on the coast. She went out on a small troller from Pender Harbor to get background information and fell in love with the coast, the man, the way of life.

View from the cockpit with morning coffee, Squirrel Cove, Desolation Sound

Canadian geese at home

Day 8 We arreived at Squirrel Cove in the early afternoon. The SCHOOL TEACHER decided we Needed Something To Do. Let’s practice using out Life Sling! The Life Sling is a retrieval system designed to enable someone fortunate enough to still be on the boat to haul aboard someone unfortunate enough to have fallen overboard. The design anticipates the worst possible circumstances, where the person in the water is unable to assist in getting on board. To practice, you put one person in the dinghy, cast that poor soul adrift, toss them the Life Sling, and then haul dingy and driftee to the boat. Fortunate person on board then clips a halyard to drifeee, and cranks their sorry little body on board. Since we were anchored, we skipped the "cast adrift" part. I got in the dinghy and put on the Life Sling. Doug clipped the contraption to the one of the halyards and preceded to scrape me over the lifelines onto the deck, with both of us complaining vehemently about how difficult this was.

We hadn’t seen difficult. We switched places. Well that wasn’t going to work. I really couldn’t turn the winch the winch handle. I could push and tug at it. All of Doug’s ribs would have been crushed in the three hours it would have taken me (with time out for a snack, of course) to drag him aboard. Soooo… I am the only one allowed to fall overboard on this trip.

Sunny, winds light and very variable; we were underway the next day for Stuart Island. Usually we plan carefully to get through both Yuculta and Dent Rapids in the same tidal exchange, but this time we turned right when we cleared Yuculta to spend the night at the community dock at Big Bay on Stuart Island. When we were younger boaters, Big Bay was a well-known fishing resort. It was sold a few years ago to a private party; they tore down all the buildings and removed the docks. Last year, we met a fishing guide who lives her who he talked up the Big Bay community and how they are trying to make the community dock viable. We stopped to contribute $$$.

Pretty place, still just getting started. We were the only boat on the docks. There IS no reason to be here if you don’t fish....unless you like beautiful sunsets. As the sun set, we could look northwest and see islands and mountains. We could look southwest and see what we call Whistler West -- a huge new fancy resort for hugely rich fancy people.

Shaman after her bath at Big Bay

The docks were in good shape, and they did have fresh water on the docks, so we decided to wash Shaman’s sides and stern. (Shaman had not received a proper scrub and still had her Winter Black Streaks. We realized that if we did everything we wanted to do before we left our homeport, we wouldn’t get away until Labor Day.) The boat bath took a very looooong time, as the water pressure was less than adequate. Doug said it was like peeing on the sides, but that would have involved ‘way more beer than we have on board.

Tomorow more rapids......

Photos for Chronicle 1

2008-05-28T22:49:00.000-07:00

I'm still figuring out how to insert photos with the text. For this Chronicle, photos first, narrative second.

Gabriola Pass, heading for the Straits of Georgia, slack water at 11:04. We were there at 11:10. Yahoo! The big rapids are in two or three days.

You are going to love this. I was so excited that I could take a picture of a little map/chart we have and show you where we are! Can you turn your computer on it's side? The sideways numbers are supposed to show where we spent each night. On our side. No matter which way I orient the picture in the computer's files, the blog program turns it sideways. We ARE having a discrepency between our compasses. Maybe that is the problem?

Don't give up. I'm going to work on it. I'll see what I can do about the focus part, too.

Sucia beach

Ferry service, Sucia

Sandstone formations on Sucia

Chronicle 1, Poulsbo to Pender Harbor

2008-05-28T21:32:00.000-07:00

May 27, 2008 Day 5

We are anchored out in Montague Harbor on Galiano Island. The sun is shining, we had a great walk, and there was ice cream at the marina store. We’re going to mark this day in the log so when we’ve been standing at the helm in the rain for 6 days, we’ll remember why we do this.

Shaman’s 2008 adventure started like most of our trips north, with our first night spent at Pt. Townsend. And, like her 2007 trip, (under an undisclosed name) we met up with Ave Maria’s owner and checked out her contribution to fortunes of the shipwrights in PT before going to look at the progress on the Wells Gray. The only thing more fun than cruising is seeing what other people are doing to their boats. A few boats down from Shaman was a handsome steel boat named 10 & 2. We love boat names and speculated on the meaning of this one. Guesses? I asked the owner the next morning. He works for 10 years, sells the company, cruises for 2 years until he runs out of money and starts over. He’s on his third cycle. This boat went to Kodiak last year, which he assured me was not all that difficult. I think 10 & 2 was about 65 feet long. Shaman was not convinced and had no aspirations of ever seeing Kodiak.

She did, however, have her sights set on Sucia Island. The plan was to meet our homeport marina neighbors in Fossil Bay where they were already tied up at the dock; we planned to anchor out. They’d cook dinner for us! We hurried north. We’ve been in Fossil Bay many times, but never in a boat that draws almost 8 feet. About an hour out, we thought to look at the small-scale chart of the bay: 1.2, 1.5, 1.3. Those are fathom readings. In case you don’t use fathoms in your daily computations, they look a lot like 6 feet. The tide during the night was predicated to be –1.2 feet. Do you need a calculator?

We called the floating café, canceled our dinner reservations, and altered course for Echo Bay. Did I mention that this was Saturday on Memorial Day weekend? Echo Bay is big. It was not full; there was probably room for 6 or 7 more boats. We found a spot halfway between 2 boats, leaving a polite amount of room. Another boat came in and anchored halfway between Shaman and the boat in front of us. Cruising the Inside Passage and the Broughtons last year had altered our anchored-boat-distance-comfort-zone. We had to recalibrate for the San Juan Islands on the first holiday weekend of the year.

On Sunday, our marina neighbors joined us in Echo Bay and ferried us in their dinghies (we made quite a show of starting to launch Ratty from the foredeck and they took pity on us) to a classic Sucia Island cove with fascinating sandstone formations.

On our way to Sidney on Monday, we heard a boat call a Coast Guard cutter to wish the crew a happy Memorial Day and thank them for serving their country. It never would have occurred to me. I just worry about them boarding Shaman and finding her holding tank valve in the wrong position. I thought that was very nice. ‘Almost made me proud to be an American. Then we crossed into Canadian waters.

The Customs officials were busy with two mega yachts when we cleared at Tsehum Harbor and did not even ask about our 4 illegal apples. The crew of Herself, who we met in the Broughtons last year, loaned us their car to go fruit and vegetable shopping. At dinner that evening we got be meet Herself’s newest crewmember, Sybil, Carol and Don’s 4-month-old Springer Spaniel. Playful and loveable are good adjectives for Sybil. Cute works.

I haven’t introduced you to the new instruments. Last year, our chart plotter had a totally unacceptable habit of taking infrequent but unauthorized naps. Unacceptable behavior. And then there was the perfectly good Furuno radar, which had the misfortune of being installed below at the chart table where both the helmsman and the foredeck watch had quite a time trying to read his little green face. He was kept company below by the VHF radio. ‘Hard to hear that at the helm in the cockpit. “Atteniton all zimktonn. Klemmzph in the vicinity of Blkzumshiimm. Please simmiennl. Prince Rupert Coast Guard out.” Now that is informative. And 3 days north of home last September, our faithful autopilot went into terminal hard right rudder mode. Guess what we got for Christmas???

Day 6 We’re in Pender Harbor, on the mainland of BC, having crossed the Straits of Georgia in flat calm AND WE HAVE INTERNET ACCESS. That may not happen again for a while, so I’d better post this. Who knows when we’ll see those little cyberspace gremlins again? Port McNeill is our best bet.

A New Name, A New Adventure

2008-05-10T13:21:00.000-07:00

On our adventure through the Inside Passage last summer, we spent a fair amount of time trying out new names for our 1989 C&C sailboat. We can’t mention her previous name because Neptune has taken that name off his rolls, but many of you do know her by her old name. We would like to take this opportunity to introduce you to Shaman, who hosted a very proper de-naming/re-naming ceremony last November. She is excited about her new name and is (almost) ready to head north again.

We told her that we were leaving on May 15th, but, alas, life and her over-heating engine got in the way; we're now planning on Sunday, the 18th. We look forward to sharing our journey with you!