Words by Les and Kel Rohlf Photos by Kel Rohlf

(To see more photos check out Kel’s FB page)

Les’ Notes

Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Skagway to Boat Harbor

Miles: 58

Hours: 6.6

We departed Skagway Harbor at 5:25 this morning and motored slowly out the Taiya Inlet toward Haines. As we digested this morning’s weather forecast, it sounds as if things are due to get ugly on the Lynn Canal this afternoon and tomorrow. Crossing to the west side of the canal immediately after passing the end of the Chilkat Peninsula, we pushed up the power and cruised at 15 mph for a couple hours, which allowed us to arrive at the entrance to Boat Harbor shortly after high slack at 11:05.

Boat Harbor was my original plan for today and will work well if the wind comes up tonight and tomorrow. The channel is narrow with a couple bends, and the harbor is well protected from all directions. We saw 18 feet of depth in the entrance on a 12 foot high tide, so we’ll want to carefully follow our track back out if we leave during tomorrow’s -1 foot low tide. Our experience corresponds to the guide that said we should expect a fathom of water at a 0 tide.

We’re anchored in 50 feet at the southeast corner of the bay near a small beach. It seems that this is one of the last areas still open to salmon gillnetters, so there are about 25 boats within 10 miles and 5 fishing within the harbor proper. We grilled a tri-tip roast and potatoes this evening – yum. At home I normally smoke it for 60-90 minutes and then sear it. Tonight, I just cooked it on our little charcoal grill for 45 minutes. The horseflies arrived in force and wanted their share. They seemed content with a bit of my flesh instead.

I had pulled into the harbor today assuming we might be here for a couple nights. The wind was still a little out of the north when we first anchored and has shifted to the south by late afternoon.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021

Boat Harbor

At 4:00 am the winds were already gusting to 25 knots at Eldred Rock, and there was a brisk south breeze whistling through our very protected anchorage, so we went back to bed. Looks like tomorrow will be better, and this is a comfortable place to wait out a choppy Lynn Canal.

I ran the generator for about an hour late this morning to charge the house batteries. My two group-27 batteries need to be recharged after 24 hours of use to keep them at 12.2 volts or higher. For reference, they power the refrigerator, (LED) lights, and one chart plotter when I’m not moving. I also keep one VHF radio on while we’re awake.

Part of our entertainment for the day was watching the gillnetters work. There were 6-8 boats working in this harbor of little more than a half mile across.

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Boat Harbor to Hoonah

Miles: 54

Hours: 9.9

It was perfectly calm within Boat Harbor this morning – much better than what we felt yesterday.  We crawled out of bed at 4:30 am and left anchorage by 5:00. Low slack was at 6:40 (-2.3 feet) and I didn’t want to transit the harbor entrance below “0” level, which would correspond to 5:00 am. In the flat early morning light we had a sporty exit from the harbor. There was a pretty strong current running in the same direction we were going, with some waves through one of the turns. I saw 5.9 feet at the lowest point through the passage, so thankfully I didn’t wait until low slack and lose another 2 or more feet.

South-southeast winds and the outgoing tide generated fairly uncomfortable waves for the first several miles. We slogged and pounded our way south at 6-7 mph until we got some relief behind Lincoln and Shelter Islands. We thought we might have been lucky when seas became relatively calm approaching Couverden Island and the turn into Icy Strait. No such luck – the waves rose again from the southeast as we made the turn, so we had waves mostly abeam as we turned west. The worst of the waves abated the farther we got into Icy Strait, but it was a tedious ride for several miles.

Approaching The Sisters, we saw a couple whales feeding just east of the islands so detoured and stopped for a while to enjoy the moment and take photos. As we made the turn into Port Frederick there were several purse seiners fishing. One was pulling in his net while a whale was feeding within just a few yards of the boat – seems both were competing for the same school of fish.

We finally pulled into Hoonah about 2:00 pm. It was a long day of slow going against waves that were near our limit for fun, but very satisfying to have watched the whales up close. We enjoyed an excellent dinner at the Fisherman’s Daughter and walked to the Hoonah Trading Post to gather a few groceries. It’s getting cloudier and cooler – evidently rain is on the way for tomorrow.

Kel’s Musings

Marina Shower Update: In Haines, as we said the showers were a mile away at the laundromat. We opted to forgo the hike to the shower. And I forgot to mention that the showers were memorable in Skagway, in a good way. They were right at the marina, clean, individual and the best price for the time. I got to shower for three minutes for 75cents. If you wanted to be luxurious, add another quarter for another minute. Here in Hoonah, the showers are at the marina, with two stalls in one bathroom. Clean, and cost $1.00 for first minute, and a quarter per each additional minute, however the first stall wouldn’t register my quarters, so I moved over to the second one, which did work.

I enjoy discoveries and surprises, even the ones that lead to something unwanted.

Boat Harbor was a lovely nook off the Lynn Canal, graced with mountains on one end, and the crooked, narrow entrance on the other. It was sunny and breezy when we arrived, along with the horseflies. I had hope to sit on the bow and read Moby Dick, but swatting flies and reading don’t pair well for me. I stayed inside, while Les battled the flies and grilled up delicious steak and potatoes. I put together a salad garnished with one of my Nasturtium blossoms and lettuce and swiss chard seedlings. Then I decided I wanted a charcuterie board for appetizers. Usually restaurants sell them with spicy meats that I can’t eat due to allergies, so I made a fresh veggie, cheese, maple flavored cookies, plain crackers, rhubarb jam (from the farmers market) and dried cherry plate with a side of chocolate bar and Romney’s of Kendal Mint Cake. (We ended up saving the chocolate for later, and I made a s’more, after Les finished grilling, with just toasted marshmallow and the maple cookie as the graham cracker.) My creative side nurtures and nourishes our souls.

I was surprised by how many gill netters shared the harbor with us. It was fascinating watching them drop their nets and then pulling them back in. Some even arrived after we went to bed at 8:30pm, and anchored right next to us. I put in my ear plugs to drown out their chatter. In the morning, as Les said, we determined that an extra day in the harbor was indicated. Not really what I wanted. I enjoyed the sunny day before, but wasn’t looking forward to a rainy day stuck inside the boat. Two things happened, one it never really rained, and second, I ended up enjoying a day of tidying up, and sorting my art supplies and catching up on some of the art projects I like to work on. (I make journals out of recycled items, and then use the pages to document our journey, kind of like a scrapbook of sorts.) The journal I made for the trip was getting bulky, so I took some pages out and created a second volume to house the memorabilia from this part of the journey.

We ate “Beefed Up” nachos for dinner. I heated chunks of the leftover steak, sliced beef hot dogs and a can of black beans with taco seasoning. After it heated through I threw some cheese on top to melt. We sat at the dinette with a bag of chips and enjoyed a hearty meal once again, while we watched our neighbor actually pulling fish out of the net while reeling it in and handling the boat single-handedly. He had a helm inside the cabin, and right there next to the drum he reels the net unto. I wanted to holler out and celebrate with him, but instead just silently applauded him from my seat inside our boat. He did this three or four times throughout the day. His spot was right next to the shore near where we anchored. I marveled that many people pay a premium to go out and watch or fish with professional fishers, but we got free front row seats to the process. Pretty cool! So my unwanted extra day at anchor turned into a pleasant respite.

Les had determined that the weather was favorable for leaving the harbor Thursday morning. We woke up with the sun, and had a little extra glee as we navigated the narrow exit with rapids and rocks and very low tides that Les masterfully had prepared for and handled. Once out in the channel, the calm waters began to build into light chop and then three feet waves. I did fine as long as I didn’t read or look through binoculars, but the waves combined with the side to side roll, eventually unsettled my stomach, and so I laid down in the berth. I actually fell asleep for a couple hours. When I got up, Les needed a break, so I drove the boat for a bit, which actually keeps the queasiness at bay.

A little while later I realized that we had cell coverage connection again, so I made the mistake of scrolling social media, while the boat was rollicking through the waves. Back to the berth to keep my head still. Thankfully, as we got closer to Hoonah, the waves calmed down and so did my stomach. (Eating salty pretzels and wearing special wristbands also helped to keep my body from outright seasickness.) I got back up in my perch to enjoy the scenery on the way into Hoonah.

Les noticed it first; he spotted a whale spouting. It was a couple miles away, so I didn’t even bother getting out the camera. We kept cruising, and I mentioned that we should make a point of going to look for whales in one of the prime spots mentioned in the guidebooks. Seeing that we have our own boat, we could do this without paying for one of the whale tours offered at each port. To our delight and discovery, a couple whales were feeding near some islands. Les slowed down, and I put the big zoom lens on my camera hoping to get some good shots. It was hard keeping the camera steady, even when we were idling. The way the whale surfaces kind of shoots a jolt of awe and joy through you, and so I was torn between witnessing their dance and taking photos. I did get some cool shots, which I edited once we got to Hoonah. But now, I want to go back sometime to just whale watch without the camera. When they dive down and flourish their tails, it is something to behold.

What a wildly wonderful world, God!
    You made it all, with Wisdom at your side,
    made earth overflow with your wonderful creations.
Oh, look—the deep, wide sea,
    brimming with fish past counting,
    sardines and sharks and salmon.
Ships plow those waters,
    and Leviathan, your pet [whale], romps in them.

Psalm 104: 24 and following, whale inserted by Kel, The Message

Words by Les and Kel Rohlf Photos by Kel Rohlf

Les’ Notes

Friday and Saturday, July 16-17

Haines

On Friday, we grabbed a few groceries, had a good sandwich lunch at the Rusty Compass Coffee Shop, and worked on blogs/bills. While Kel engaged in some retail exploration, Les visited the Sheldon Museum. It includes lots of late 18^th and early 19th century artifacts collected by a local mercantile owner. The museum’s displays narrate the tensions and changes among the local Tlingit clans with the influx of settlers, missionaries, and gold-seekers from outside Alaska.

We had dinner at the Lighthouse Restaurant adjacent to the harbor – their halibut fish and chips were as good as any we’ve had to date.

Despondence, disappointment, disillusionment – these are my emotions when faced with the reality that the Hammer Museum was closed during our time in Haines.

We had planned to depart Haines for Skagway on Saturday morning, but the forecast included a small craft advisory for the Northern Lynn Canal. After walking up the hill above the harbor and looking east beyond Portage Cove, I could see whitecaps and feel the strong northerly breeze. We stayed the extra day in Haines to wait for better weather. Kel visited the farmers market on Saturday while Les continued to sulk about the Hammer Museum being closed.

We liked Haines a lot. The harbor staff worked with us to ensure we’d have a space despite lots of fishing boats using the transient dock. There are a handful of good eateries and two well-stocked groceries. The only issue with Haines for small boat owners is that the public shower is located at the Moose Laundry, which is a (good) mile west of the harbor.

Sunday, July 18

Haines to Skagway

Miles: 17 Hours: 2.5

We turned out of the Haines Harbor at 5:30 am to get to Skagway before the wind and waves. The NOAA ship Fairweather was anchored just off Haines in Portage Cove. This 231-foot hydrographic survey vessel uses side-scan sonar to accurately map the ocean floor. Data it provides to NOAA cartographers are used to updated nautical charts. We motored slowly past her and turned north into Taiya Inlet.

Taiya inlet is only half as wide as the rest of Lynn Canal, so when we met the southbound Alaska Ferry Matanuska, we got the amusement park treatment from its wake. The wake itself caused 3- to 4-foot waves, and we were bounced around for another 20 minutes as those waves ricocheted off the narrow canyon walls back into the channel.

Our 17-mile excursion was otherwise smooth, and we arrived at the Skagway Harbor about 8:00am. After settling in and getting showers, we enjoyed a very nice brunch at the adjacent Skagway Fish Company. Later we wandered about the town. Skagway is an interesting place, even more so in these interesting times. With a very small year-around population, it seems to exist as an historical monument (Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park) and as a theme-parkish destination for cruise passengers. With no significant cruise ship arrivals (yet), the place is something of a ghost town.

Monday, July 19

Skagway has a very nice small craft harbor. Showers are close by at Harbormaster building, the docks are in excellent shape, and there are water spigots at each slip. It’s about half empty right now – I’m told this is a destination for Canadians, given its proximity to Whitehorse.

I walked the docks early this morning and watched the river otter gang cruising around the harbor looking for trouble. The harbormaster yesterday said one of her primary responsibilities is spraying otter poop from the docks.

There seemed to be a little more activity in town today. We caught up on laundry and restocked groceries from the rather sparse IGA. One exciting find there – they had beef tri-tip roasts, so we snagged one to grill tomorrow night. We also did our best to support the open restaurants – great sandwiches at the Glacier Coffee House and excellent pizza at the Northern Lights Pizzeria.

We filled the boat with gas this morning and water this evening. As we head south, we’ll call Glacier Bay to check availability of short-notice permits. During the summer months Glacier Bay National Park allows only 25 private vessels in the primary bay on a given day. Of these, 13 are Advance Permits (60 days out) and 12 are short-notice and made available 48 hours ahead of entry. Since most permits are for multiple days, only a few new boats are allowed to enter Glacier Bay each day.

Kel’s Musings

As Transients and Independent Travelers, designated as such by harbormasters and locals, we find ourselves mostly alone. Some might find that disheartening, but we both are enjoying the solitude. No crowds to navigate, open moorings at most marinas, even at the popular Auke Bay harbor. As we move from town to town, we continue to be surrounded by mountains, seas and lovely cloud formations backlit by the ever present sunlight. We have yet to see the stars, as we fall asleep often looking up at the blue gray sky of dusk and wake up to the same light, except it’s dawn.

Each town we stop in has its own character. It was a pleasant reprieve to just arrive in Haines with no checklist or agenda. We walked the first night to dinner out at the fairgrounds about a mile, then took the long way back to wander around the old Fort Seward area and the abandoned cruise dock.

While in port, we do a fair amount of walking, which is welcome after traveling in the boat. Haines was a small town that seemed to ignore the fact that we were transients. The shop folks let us browse without hovering. If I felt like it I chatted with them about our trip. I walked around uptown, and strolled back over to the fairgrounds for their farmers market. My cure for disappointment is retail therapy. (As Les mentioned the Hammer Museum was not open during our stay in Haines.) It was the one attraction that I requested to be part of our itinerary.

But alas it wasn’t meant to be, however I did find a beach and because we had such nice weather (sunny days) I went to sit and enjoy the scenery. I have been missing our dog, and so it was sweet when a little dog arrived and sat near me on the beach. The next day he brought a friend, and we sat together until the horseflies chased us each away. I ambled up towards Fort Seward, and found the ruins of one of the barracks. Some rusty, discarded pipes/tubes were lined against the wall. Upon closer inspection what looked like remnants of an unfinished project, I discovered that the ruins housed a sculpture park.

My favorite piece was interactive. It was labeled “Take Time” and was an hour glass with a handle to turn it. So I took some time by turning the handle, and continued to wander around the ruins. I sat at a picnic table to jot down some thoughts and sketch one of the sculptures. It was some much needed me time. Even though I mentioned that we are often by ourselves on this journey, we each appreciate getting off alone to pursue our own interests. It truly fills my soul to sit outdoors and witness the juxtaposition of nature and art.

Haines captured my heart. Its beach, the sculpture park, the shops and friendly shopkeepers, the library, plenty of public restrooms, soft serve ice cream, the coffee shop, and the farmers market. Oh, did I mention the breathtaking mountains that stood watch over us at every turn. I was thankful when the wind picked up, keeping us in port an extra day.

Skagway is the northern most point on our itinerary. We were excited to meet this town just 17 miles north of Haines. It too had its own character, and at first it seemed like we entered the set of a well-kept ghost town. The marina felt empty. The town sits screened behind trees, so we really felt alone when we arrived at 8am on a Sunday morning.

The streets were empty. Stores were closed. The train that normally runs to the Yukon basin was shut down until later in the month. At the historic park visitor center, the ranger told us that the locals party on Saturday night and sleep on Sundays. “Whatever would be open Sunday, most likely would be open on Monday, too,” he informed us. Not very promising, since the grocery and hardware store and most restaurants were closed. We walked down Broadway and read some signs about the Gold Rush era. In one back alley we heard saloon music from the 1890s and a sign saying we could pan for gold. We passed on by to discover that the Harley Davidson souvenir store didn’t plan to open until August 8th. We ate dinner on our boat. Les made egg and cheese burritos.

On Monday the town seemed to wake up a bit, but still lots of places were closed or didn’t open until noon or so. We did our laundry and picked up groceries. Found great sandwiches at the Glacial Coffeehouse for lunch. Around dinner time, I was longing for Papa Johns. Les pulled out his phone and called the local pizza/Mexican food restaurant to see if they were open. They were! We walked back into town and ordered a pizza each, and they even made mine special order with no tomato sauce. I had spinach, black olives, feta cheese, mozzarella and grilled chicken. We definitely were well fed in Skagway.

Next stop, hopefully Glacier Bay National Park!

Give me your lantern and compass,
give me a map,
So I can find my way to the sacred mountain,
to the place of your presence,
To enter the place of worship,
meet my exuberant God,
Sing my thanks with a harp,
magnificent God, my God.

Psalm 43:4-6 The Message

Words by Les and Kel Rohlf

Les’ Notes

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Auke Bay

Lots more of that Southeast Alaska liquid sunshine today. Except for a few short interludes, a steady light rain fell all day. We untied and motored over to the ramp at 8:00 am to pull the boat for motor service. Conrad from Karl’s Auto and Marine Repair (the area Honda servicing dealer) met us with a big, 3-axle trailer onto which he loaded Intuition and towed it to their shop a few miles away. We’ve logged about 160 hours since the last oil change, so it was due.

For the three hours the boat was at the shop, we walked a few blocks to Starbucks for breakfast, browsed for a while at the Mendenhall Mall, and grabbed a load of groceries from Safeway. The boat work was done by noon, along with a power wash of the critters growing on the hull, as our boat does not have bottom paint.  Given that we’ll probably add another 100 hours to the motor before we start our return trip south, I plan to swing through Auke Bay for another oil change near the end of our time here in the north part of the Inside Passage.

We were back in the water at Auke Bay looking for slip at 1:00pm. Thankfully, there was an open section of dock that was also near enough to access a 30-amp pedestal. Given this good spot, we’ll stay here through Wednesday and plan to start up the Lynn Canal on Thursday. We had date night at the laundromat this evening, so we now have clean and (mostly) dry clothes.

Thursday, July 15

Auke Bay to Haines

Miles today: 70

Hours: 6.3

We left at 5:45am in hopes of making as many miles toward Haines before the forecast 3-foot waves rose in the northern Lynn Canal. The water was initially smooth and didn’t get higher than a light chop all the way to Haines. We ran at 14-15 mph for most of today’s run, except when we slowed for a couple whales and to make lunch. The Lynn Canal is impressive for the mountain ranges on each side – the western side guards the north and east sides of Glacier Bay, while the eastern peaks surround the icefields north of Juneau.

We received no answers from the Haines Harbor on either VHF or phone, so pulled into the harbor about noon and tied up to the transient dock. A couple helpful fishermen mending their gillnets pointed me to the dockmaster’s shack at the other end of the marina. It looks as if Haines has extended their breakwall and added a new ramp and dock at the south end of the harbor. The harbor is humming with activity from fishing boats steadily arriving and departing.

Haines has a little over 2,000 residents and sits on Portage Cove, an indentation on the Chilkat Peninsula. The whitewashed buildings of Fort Seward, an Army Post closed in 1947, now serve as homes for shops and businesses. We enjoyed wandering through Haines this afternoon. We checked out the very nice library and walked the mile to Raevyn’s Café, which serves Mexican and Cajun entrees. It’s a popular spot – all inside tables were taken, so we stepped outside and enjoyed our dinner in the drizzle. It’s located at the site of the Southeast Alaska State Fair, whose buildings were apparently built as part of the set for the Disney movie “White Fang”. We then headed (in the rain) across town toward Fort Seward where we checked out the tasting room at the Chilkoot Distillery.

Kel’s Musings

Every good story, so I’ve been told, has a beginning, middle and end. As we left Auke Bay with partly cloudy skies and mountains that seemed closer and higher than any we’ve seen yet, I realized that the calendar tells me it’s the 28^th week of the year, and the middle of July. We are heading into what we might call the middle of the journey. We’ve been in Alaska about a month.

We’ve witnessed the grandeur of the landscapes along the waterway to include mountains, glaciers and waterfalls, not to mention how the clouds like to add drama to the scene in various forms each day. We’ve listened to the hum of the boat motoring through smooth glass-like waters. We’ve heard the ravens speaking with the eagles, and to us in a sense. (Until this trip I had never seen a raven, nor heard their calls. Although we see eagles in the St. Louis area, I’ve never seen them in their daily routine. They chortle in various ways that differentiate them from the ravens.) The eagles circle and dive and eat the cast off chum of the fishermen. One time we saw one trying to get bait out of a beached crab pot at low tide. The ravens mostly try to get into the garbage cans, but one time I saw a group of them sitting on the back of a truck trying to take the packaging off a new refrigerator that was being delivered. They also like to peck at windshield wipers on cars parked in the grocery store lot. Both are majestic birds in their own right, and I marvel at their interconnection, not only in nature, but also in Tlingit culture.

One of the Tlingit traditions informs the choice of a spouse. The clan heritage follows a matriarchal lineage, further delineated by the Raven and the Eagle lineage. The tradition encourages a couple to marry someone from the opposite group. This fact intrigues me, and I wonder how the natural connection of the Raven and Eagle influences the marriage rites of the Tlingit clan. Something to investigate and ponder.

There is so much to experience, and as we enter the middle, I notice that I have begun to project us into the ending. That is easy to do, and my son likened it to a waterfall. My mind starts “waterfalling” into what’s ahead, rather than staying in the moment. Thankfully, I have practiced staying focused on the present, while being informed by the past and inspired by the future. So I take a breath, and remind myself to stay in the now.

Now, we are in Haines, and I wanted to share a couple moments that we encountered while in Auke Bay. As transients, people who are changing locales every few days, we tend to gravitate toward other sojourners, fellow independent travelers. (That’s what the locals call people who are here on their own, not with a cruise line tour.)

One rainy evening, we decided to do our laundry. We called it our date night. We were sitting reading our respective books, when a fellow sojourner entered the laundromat/shower house. He talked to us about his day, and how the nets broke on the gillnetter, and they now had to repair them. Without solicitation he told us of his life journey and how he was hired on this current boat, and he was elated to find a shower in town. He mentioned that paychecks come at the end of the work, and so we offered him some of our quarters, knowing from experience that the shower requires them. He took the quarters, and we were happy to share our bounty with a fellow traveler, because as we know a hot shower is a boater’s gift in this land of Southeast Alaska. He thanked us after and headed back to his boat to repair nets. We headed back to our boat with clean and mostly dry clothes, as Les said. Dryers eat quarters like candy.

We planned to get up the next day to visit Mendenhall Glacier. I have learned on this trip that some glaciers are near the waterways, and others are land locked up in the mountains, and others spill down into a fresh water lake. Mendenhall is the land/lake type, which also boasts a massive waterfall right next to it. After researching the bus schedule, we hopped on a bus and headed out for a day of hiking and exploring the grounds near the glacier. We could have hailed a taxi, but there is something romantic about taking public transportation. The closest bus stop near the glacier was a 1.5 mile hike to the entrance of the park. We enjoyed chatting, and noticing signs about bears and then about half way there we turned a corner. I exclaimed audibly, “Look at that!” It was the glacier. Such an awesome sight, which we experienced because we chose to hike there.

Before we left in the morning, Les suggested that I wear my tall waterproof boots, since we planned to hike to the foot of the waterfall next to the glacier. Little did I know that my choice would end up being a blessing to another fellow traveler. Les and I walked along the path noticing the flowers and mushrooms. We noticed little trickles of water, and a medium flow of water over rocks, and then we turned the corner to the sound of the rushing water, which silenced all other sounds. What wonder to stand near the foot of a glacial waterfall.

We noticed people putting their shoes and socks back on, and that’s when I realized I could wade through the shallow water next to the waterfall to get closer to it. My boots kept my feet and shins dry. Les stayed on the other side taking photos of the waterfall.

Two women arrived at the falls about the time I was crossing back through the shallow water. I tried to shout above the voice of the waterfall to encourage one of them to come across, she was shedding her shoes and socks. When I arrived, I explained that my boots kept my feet dry. She asked if I would lend her my boots. I gladly agreed and we celebrated the fact that we both had small feet. I don’t know whose joy was greater, but it was a shared joy indeed.

While the immensity of nature continues to awe and wow us, the shared experiences with strangers/fellow travelers fills us with light-heartedness and a greater appreciation for the gifts surrounding us each day.

“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”
Matthew 6:34 The Message

Words by Les and Kel Rohlf Photos by Kel Rohlf

Monday, July 12, 2021

Juneau to Auke Bay

Distance: 36 miles

Hours: 5.1

Les’ Notes

It began raining steadily overnight and didn’t let up until this afternoon. We left Harris Harbor in Juneau about 8:30 am after checking out at the Harbor office. We needed to get to Auke Bay today, as we have an appointment for an oil change for our main motor on Tuesday. The forecast was for waves building to 3 feet in Stephens Passage, so I wasn’t enthusiastic about getting out. We had the ebb tide pushing us south out of Gastineau Channel and very little chop, followed by the flood tide pushing us north around Douglas Island with building waves. The worst waves may have approached three feet, but generally seemed less; we had a fairly comfortable transit at 8 mph up to Statter Harbor in Auke Bay.

The harbormaster didn’t seem too confident about available moorage and gave us instruction to look around on the C and D floats. We were about ready to leave for lack of a space when we found a space almost big enough for us near the end of one of the fingers. It wasn’t close enough to a power pedestal with 30-amp outlets, but we shoe-horned ourselves in.

After the gloomy morning the rain stopped so that we could walk up to the Hot Bite for dinner. This little short-order establishment sits in the building that was originally the Pan Am ticketing office when Pan Am started Clipper service in 1940. Their Sikorsky S42 flying boats operated out of Auke Bay providing weekly service to and from Seattle. There are about 6 super-duper mega yachts parked on the breakwall here, eclipsing the 2 or 3 we saw in Juneau.

Kel’s Musings

After a week of spectacular scenery, I was ready for a respite. We got settled at the moorage in Juneau, which was at the back corner of the marina. The scenery was the misty tree lined mountain behind buildings, a parking lot and a steep boat ramp. Sweet mundane marina life. We were on a side tie rather than a slip, which is a little tricky to dock at especially if you have to squeeze in between other boats. (It’s like parallel parking with a boat.) Thankfully the dock was fairly open and we tied off with no incident.

It was Friday afternoon, so I wanted to get all our chores done that way we could enjoy the city of Juneau over the weekend. I headed to the laundromat and Les made some calls, since we had no cell coverage for six days, even with a Verizon and AT&T plan. I was looking forward to catching up on social media while doing laundry.

I overestimated how many chores I could really get done, and we found a small pool of water under our mattress when I went to put our clean sheets back on the bed. Of course, it was raining, so we had to pile the mattress, which includes three cushions, a memory foam pad and a plastic type liner to keep the cushions dry inside the boat. It was quite crowded. I’m not gonna lie, I got a little cranky about it. But in the end it was good we discovered it, because wet mattresses lead to mold and mildew. We added bleach cleaner to our grocery list.

Speaking of grocery stores, while in Juneau, the Foodland IGA became our second home. You may think that there would be restaurants right by the marina, but actually most marinas here have been a mile or more from the touristy parts of downtown. Also the rainy, chilly weather that Alaskan summers are known for finally showed up for us here in Juneau. The IGA houses the grocery store, coffee shop, pharmacy and ACE hardware store. I’m pretty sure we ate breakfast, lunch and dinner there, plus bought groceries, toiletries and a couple items from the hardware. Also they sold the bus tokens, which we used on Sunday to check out their downtown attractions.

We met a very helpful man at the Juneau Visitor center, who told us about the Dipac hatchery. Also a lovely lady at the laundromat mentioned it as well. We hope to add a tour of the hatchery to our itinerary.

Juneau is an interesting small town city. It was a bit disheartening though to see the obvious economic impact due to the lack of tourism. We did enjoy eating at the Red Dog Saloon. I walked through the swinging doors just like in the movies, thankfully Les was far enough behind that they didn’t smack him. We also had some delicious halibut at the fish taco stand for lunch one day. I found a stationery store, and we got souvenirs at The Alaska Brewing Company, The Amalga Distillery and The Alaska Shirt Store.

We woke up Monday morning to one of the rainiest days we’ve had so far. It’s nice how soothing the sound of rain feels when you’re sleeping on clean sheets in the snug berth. We got up for a leisurely breakfast on the boat. Then we headed out for a rainy day cruise to Auke Bay. Even though it was a little lumpy in the channel, I managed to do some art and make us grilled sandwiches for lunch.

Today we’re sitting in the Safeway cafe in Auke Bay, enjoying Starbucks and internet while the boat motor gets routine service. They also will power clean the boat, as a bunch of algae has started growing on the hull. We will pick up groceries, walk back to the marina service shop, and then ride back with the service provider to put the boat back in the water. We hope to find another open moorage at the marina to stay in Auke Bay for a couple more days. If not, we can always anchor out.

God’s love is meteoric, his loyalty astronomic, His purpose titanic, his verdicts oceanic. Yet in his largeness nothing gets lost; Not a man, not a mouse, slips through the cracks. (Psalm 36:5-6 The Message)

Words by Les and Kel Rohlf Photos by Kel Rohlf (unless otherwise indicated)

Les’ Notes

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Wood Spit to Ford’s Terror

Distance: 39 Miles

Hours: 7.2

Ever since reading of Jay and Jolee Byers’ earlier visits to Ford’s Terror, it’s been on my list of “must-see” locations, if I had the opportunity to create my own Alaska itinerary. In many cases our expectations have exceeded the experiences. Ford’s Terror didn’t disappoint.

Ford’s Terror was named by Lieutenant Commander H. B. Mansfield (USN), for H. L. Ford, a member of his 1889 surveying party. Apparently, Ford rowed a skiff passed the narrows during slack tide and then spent a harrowing 6 hours unable to leave the inlet due to the dangerous waves, currents, and blocking ice until the next slack allowed exit.

Since we didn’t have far to go today, and since high slack at Ford’s Terror was in the neighborhood of 1:40pm, we weren’t in a hurry, but we got tired of waiting around, we left at 8:15, thinking we’d go up the Endicott Arm toward the Dawes Glacier before turning around to get to Ford’s Terror on time. We didn’t plan very well and didn’t leave ourselves quite enough time to get in view of the glacier. We had to slow to avoid the small clear bergies that sit low in the water and are difficult to spot, so we couldn’t just blast our way up there. We turned around 8 or 9 miles beyond the Ford’s Terror entrance. While we didn’t see the glacier itself, we saw seals hauled out on the ice and the magnificent canyon walls and waterfalls farther up the arm.

Based on AIS data and radio chatter, there would be at least 3 other boats bound for Ford’s Terror tonight. Another cruiser apparently bailed and returned from the Ford’s Terror entrance after arriving and seeing two other boats waiting south of the rapids. In the end, we and four boats waited for high slack to enter. I’ve heard or read of a couple estimates for calculating slack time at Ford’s Terror: 45 minutes after Juneau and 35 minutes after Wood Spit. These times end up being within about 10 minutes of each other and resulted in an estimate today for about 1:40pm. Based on radio chatter among those waiting when we arrived, nobody seemed certain of an estimate, though the loudest voice was using 1:05 (roughly slack at Wood Spit).  They waited until the rapids seemed to subside at about 1:00pm, then invited a smaller fishing boat with excess power to go first. After all three of the larger (43-, 57-, and 64-foot boats) got through without carnage, we went through at about 1:10pm. We had plenty of power and directional control during this latter stage of the flood tide, but there was enough flow and churn that it didn’t quite feel like slack.

The favored anchoring spot in Ford’s Terror seems to be the western bank of western arm. All the other banks are extremely steep to, as the depth drops from 0 to over 100 feet in a very short distance. It’s all complicated by the western bank having a mud flat that exposes, as the tide drops and is difficult to discern – if you’re not careful you can ground on that mud flat, as the tide goes out.  The three large cruisers were concerned there wouldn’t be room for everyone, so had already made plans to raft together before arriving. Once they rafted together along the middle section of the western shore, there was plenty of room for the two smaller boats in the northwest and southwest corners. Our anchor landed in about 60 feet of water, and once we paid out 200 feet of rode and set the anchor, our back end was just short of where the depth near the mud flat goes from 30 feet to less than 10 feet at high tide (18 to less than zero during tonight’s -1 foot low tide).

The most complete reference for Ford’s Terror navigation (IMO) is on the Slowboat.com blog (https://slowboat.com/2016/09/feature-article-fords-terror/), which also includes a link to the video from one of Jay and Jolee’s earlier adventures.

Thursday, July 8, 2021

Ford’s Terror to Taku Harbor

Distance: 53 Miles

Hours: 7.3

It was special to wake up in Ford’s Terror this morning on my 60^th birthday. This is really an amazing place, with shear towers rising on all sides. It had an other-worldly feel this morning, with low clouds and mist obscuring the surrounding peaks.  

We pulled down the dinghy and spent an hour exploring the anchorage areas of Ford’s Terror. We almost had our own misadventure after crossing into the east side midway through the flood tide. I noted a pretty fast current and some whirlpools as we transited the narrow channel, so we didn’t spend long there. Returning through the channel required full power to make 1 mph headway into the swirling current. Our Torqeedo electric motor will push our 10-foot dinghy at 5 mph at full power in flat water, so I didn’t leave myself much margin. Looking at the east channel at near low tide, I can understand why most don’t recommend anchoring there. The picture below was from near low tide – the entrance is awfully narrow, and rocks intrude into the passageway. You’d need to be confident of your line and transit only at high slack.

We pulled anchor and started out shortly before 1:00pm. High slack at the Wood Spit was 1:45pm. The other four boats pulled out before us, so we followed. The outbound passage was complicated by bergs in the narrows and skiffs from the Wilderness Adventure cruise ship (anchored below the narrows) shuttling back and forth. We were the last of the 5 outbound boats to leave and went through the rapids at 1:54pm; and there were still significant standing waves and flooding current at the turn. Just after the rapids and before the final turn at the narrows, we were met by a large center console fishing boat in the middle of the channel, who had apparently not been listening to the four securite radio calls announcing the boats transiting from the north, and had not chosen to stay out of the path of the three larger boats that preceded us.

We met Akeeva (Sam Landsman) approaching from the south just as we finished our southbound passage. We continued back the Endicott Arm, exited Holkham Bay, and sloshed northbound to Taku Harbor for the night. The waves in Stephens Passage weren’t as bad as forecast (3 feet), but resulted in a busy ride. Things seemed calm when we anchored in Taku Harbor with about 6 other boats. An additional 8 were tied to the two floats in the harbor. Swells from the southeast wind must have made it into the harbor, as we experienced kind of a “rolly” night.

Friday, July 9, 2021

Taku Harbor to Juneau

Distance: 24 Miles

Hours: 3.6

We departed Taku Harbor shortly after 6:00 am and headed toward Juneau. The following waves were mostly on the stern, so were not really uncomfortable. They settled as we moved further up the Gastineau Channel. We filled up with gas on the way into town and were assigned to the transient dock at Harris Harbor, the closest basin to downtown. I’ve arranged to have our motor oil changed at Auke Bay on Tuesday, so we’ll leave the harbor and run around Douglas Island to Auke Bay on Monday.

After doing some cleaning on the boat and laundry, we walked to the IGA for groceries and later to the Red Dog Saloon for dinner. The Red Dog Saloon seems geared toward tourists, though has a little different feel now without the cruise ship crowd.

Kel’s Musings

Celebrating with Les undergirds this expedition. He reminded me before the trip that his goal was to explore the Inside Passage of southeast Alaska before he turned sixty. Mission accomplished, he has now explored parts of the passage before sixty, and the rest of the journey will be during his sixtieth year of life. It has been quite the accomplishment living on our Intuition these past weeks, and unbelievably the journey isn’t even half over. We still hope to make it to Haines, Skagway and Sitka for sure, and then retrace some of our steps at the end of the summer to return to Everett, Washington via the route whence we came.

I get a little sentimental at times. I assign significance to birthdays, holidays and milestones that I think without me may get overlooked by my practical partner. So I baked him a cake. And we enjoyed that very much. And I will use his birthdate to continue our celebrations far into this trip. I am very thankful for Les, and our journey of faith, not only on the boat, but also heading into our 35^th year of being together. Boating is fun and being here is amazing, but it also takes a lot of work to make it work. Not unlike a marriage based on mutual admiration and dynamic partnership. We make it work. Some days are spectacular, and others ordinary.

After three days on the water, just before we headed into Ford’s Terror, I was getting antsy. I thought I was alone in my feelings, so I kept them to myself. We are in a lovely tiny boat, living our tiny lifestyle, but horseflies and gnats show up, and it feels really tiny. Sitting out on the deck is not soothing if you have to swat away bugs. Les valiantly grilled twice for us with bugs swarming him. I stayed in my perch inside on the port side of the boat messing with my collage art or reading a magazine article. At night, I’d climb into bed just for a different perspective, even if I wasn’t tired. I restarted reading Moby Dick. (I’ve never finished it, and have been reading it off and on for at least twenty years now.) I resolved to finish it this trip, and actually am finding the section on cetology more interesting this time. So when Les admitted that he was getting “cabin fever” a little bit, too, I didn’t feel so abnormal.

We were heading into the much acclaimed and looked forward to adventure on this trip: Ford’s Terror. Before the trip, I would have Les tell the story of how long ago Ford paddled in and couldn’t get back out of the passage for six hours because of the tide change. We would joke about its name and wondered how terrifying it would really be. I imagined us being there as a solitary boat in a remote destination. So when we arrived at the entrance, I was a little disappointed that others had the same idea. (So far we’ve been able to get into most places on our own, and we kind of like that vibe.) But in retrospect it was good to have neighbors. It was like sitting on the stoop on a hot summer day in the city, except we were listening in on the conversations held on Channel 69 on our VHF radio. The boats ahead of us debated about the best way to enter the narrows. I’m pretty sure not one of the boaters, including us had ever been in Ford’s Terror before, so we were learning together. Les and I listened, and shared our information. Thankfully, we showed up last, so in essence that gave us an advantage to watch the others go through first. And as it would happen, we also would be the last ones out the next day. Again having the benefit of watching others swish and swash through the rapidly changing tide and dodging little icebergs while keeping up with the rush of the current around a sharp corner. Just exhilarating, especially when you know the captain of your boat can handle the maneuvers. Another birthday blessing, as Les successfully navigated in and out of Ford’s Terror without any carnage.

Speaking of carnage, after we exited the “terror”, and exchanged our relieved, so longs and farewells and safe voyages to the other boaters, I had the pleasure of netting us another bergie. We weaved through the ice field, as Les pulled up to various bergie candidates. I couldn’t break off a piece from a bigger one, and the smaller ones slipped under the bow before we could get to them. Finally, I caught a nice sized one that once I had it on the deck, I realized a couple things. One, this was a beautiful bergie, shapely formed with open holes that had melted just right to give the piece character. Two, this one, was a little too big to just drop into our cooler. So I got out the ice pick, and with childlike glee broke the beauty into pieces. After placing the ice chunks into the cooler, I threw a smaller piece back into the sea. Now the cooler was once again stocked with ice, and the deck was covered in bergie bits, which eventually melted.

After five spectacular days on the water, I was relieved when the evening seas weren’t as choppy as predicted. As we cruised north on the Stephens Passage toward Taku Harbor, I sighed. I watched the horizon blend into a monotone palette of gray greens, dark mountains shrouded in clouds and the drab olive waves peaking and receding. The scene was a welcome coda to our latest adventure. I asked Les how he was doing after such a full week, he replied, “Good.” And then asked me, “How about you?” I replied, “I’m enjoying the monotony.” A strange release came over me, as we said farewell to the grandeur, and the glory of witnessing such immensity.

Highlights of Ford’s Terror and the Endicott Arm:

I’m an open book to you;
    even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
    I’m never out of your sight.
You know everything I’m going to say
    before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you’re there,
    then up ahead and you’re there, too—
    your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
    I can’t take it all in! (Psalm 139:2-6 The Message)