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

Les’ Notes

Sunday, July 4, 2021

Petersburg to Thomas Bay

Distance: 23 miles Hours: 4

We dallied this morning in Petersburg and had breakfast in town before preparing to leave. With high tide shortly after 10:00am this morning and a relatively short distance planned for today, I figured we could afford to leave a little later. I also wanted to take advantage of the tide wherever possible between here and Juneau:  it will be a longer run between fuel stops, and I have a couple side trips I’d like to make.

We backed away at 9:40 and followed Jeff and Susie in Idyll Time out of the fairway and into Wrangell Narrows. After passing the red buoy with the sea lions fighting for a spot, we pointed toward the left side of the Sukoi Islets on a northerly heading that would take us directly to the Thomas Bay entrance.

Until we got to the Sukoi Islets, the water was fairly calm, with low swells from the north. Once we passed these islands, I think the wind against tide scenario resulted in the shorter, steep waves we experienced for the remainder of our trip across Frederick Sound. Neither winds nor tide were very strong, but we definitely experienced the high side of “waves 2 feet or less” forecast for the sound today. The waves were more on the beam as we made the wide turn into Thomas Bay. We found a quiet cove to anchor in.

While going thru our post anchoring checklist, I noted a boat on AIS entering Thomas Bay. I tracked him for a few minutes to see if he was coming into our anchorage. He was not. Shortly thereafter though, he made a “Pan Pan” radio call on channel 16 stating that he was aground. Apparently, the aft part of his 57-foot boat was stuck, and it was near low tide. Another cruiser had just entered Thomas Bay enroute to Scenery Cove, so was closer than we were. The responding cruiser did an excellent job of reminding him to put out an anchor to ensure that as the tide rose, he wouldn’t be pushed farther in.

It appeared there was no imminent danger, and the second cruiser confirmed that he looked OK and would just need to wait a couple hours for the incoming tide to lift him. During the entire process that included a couple other boats relaying info to the Coast Guard. The Coast Guard launched a helicopter from Sitka that overflew and talked to the captain. The rising tide seemed to resolve the issue without apparent damage to their running gear, as this same boat did end up spending the night in the same part of the bay as our anchorage south of Ruth Island.

Monday, July 5, 2021

Thomas Bay to Cannery Cove

Distance: 62 miles Hours: 7.9

Departed the anchorage at 4:30am and made breakfast during the passage out of Thomas Bay.  The gnats were atrocious when retrieving the anchor. After exiting the bay at low slack tide and turning up the center of Frederick Sound, we were met by short, steep waves. This didn’t bode well for today’s plan, and I turned back toward the north shore with plans to bail out at Farragut Bay if things didn’t improve. After several miles the waves subsided to a chop, so we continued toward Cape Fanshaw. We saw several whales along the north shore between Farragut Bay and Cape Fanshaw, including one that breached.

We passed Canoe Point, and the sea state didn’t appear worse than what we’d seen the last few miles. We were able to run most of the way across the open strait toward Pybus Bay at 16-17 mph, with the water surface alternating between a one-foot chop and light swells. 

We dropped anchor in 35 feet of water near the head of Cannery Cove shortly after noon.  The high glacial cirque above the cove makes a most impressive backdrop.  We were not alone here – there’s a busy fish camp, and two other cruisers came in later to share the cove. On two separate occasions a small boat from the fishing camp motored into the area where we were anchored and dropped crab pots for their clients, or at least I assume so since there were different “guests” each time, but the same “guide.” In one instance they dropped a pot well within our anchor swing radius.

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Cannery Cove to Holkham Bay

Distance: 47 miles Hours: 6.3

We took our time this morning, and had breakfast before leaving Cannery Cove. As it turns out, our anchor line wrapped around one of the crab pot floats, so I had to untangle that before we pulled the anchor. Our plan was to just motor up to Snug Cove in Gambier Bay, a total of only 24 miles. Once we got out into Stephens Passage, where the seas were very calm, I called an audible and headed toward Holkham Bay instead of Gambier Bay. As calm as Stephens Passage was today, we decided to take advantage of it for the longer open crossing.

Once inside Holkham Bay, the water was totally calm. We anchored in a nook on the southeast side of the “Wood Spit” peninsula. It’s not a well-protected anchorage, but as calm as it was, and with little change expected overnight, I figured we be fine. We dropped anchor in 40 feet at high tide and ensured that the lowest water in a swing radius was about 28 feet. The water is forecast to drop 12 feet overnight.

We’ve watched a parade of icebergs march down the Endicott Arm to Holkham Bay.  Holkham Bay splits into two arms – the Tracy Arm goes north to the North and South Sawyer Glaciers, while the Endicott Arm angles south and east to the Dawes Glacier. Both calve enough ice that there are frequently icebergs that exit Holkham Bay into the Stephens Passage. We snagged a small bergie and chipped off a couple pieces to refill the cooler today. The vistas continue to become more and more breathtaking. From our anchorage we looked directly across to the Sumdum Glacier, which hangs in a valley above where the two arms separate. Looking up the Endicott Arm yields a staggering row of snow-filled mountains rising steeply from both sides of the fjord.

This is a very popular anchorage area. AIS shows no fewer than 10 boats anchored within 8 miles of us. I guess it makes sense given that we’re well within a single day’s travel of Juneau, and none of the three tidewater glaciers here have the restrictions of those in Glacier Bay. The chatter seemed to be that the Sawyer Glaciers are more open than the Dawes, so hopefully most are heading there tomorrow instead of up the Endicott Arm to Ford’s Terror.

Kel’s Musings

After enjoying a short run on Sunday morning, I met Les for coffee at the Glacier Express cafe. We ordered coffee, and I enjoyed dessert for breakfast, a yummy raspberry lemon cheesecake with a layer of cake and graham cracker crust. Les had a blueberry muffin. As we marked July 4^th on the calendar, we were heading out for a six day cruise to Juneau. (We watched fireworks from our boat the night before, and they actually ended around midnight, so it was officially Independence Day, when we went to bed.) As we left port, I was once again in awe of the quietude and grandeur that surrounds us each day we are on the water.

Many people comment that we’re having a great vacation, and while that is partly true, I view this trip as mostly an expedition, and partly an experiment of what it would be like to truly live aboard our boat. (No worries, we aren’t going to sell our house and live on our boat, but I like the idea of it.) So this summer, I am fulfilling a dream I’ve had since we bought the Intuition. We’re living our day to day life on the boat. And I get to witness and participate in Les’ dream of exploring the Inside Passage with said boat. The scenery is spectacular; the company is sweet. (Except when I get moody.) Life aboard includes eating, sleeping and cleaning, the same day to day routines that you have whether living on land or sea. However, because of the limitations of space and possibly the lovely landscape, the chores seldom become tedious, except when I’m in a foul mood. (I don’t want anyone to think I’m happy all the time, that wouldn’t be realistic.) Moods aside, being on our boat in Alaska cheers us on, despite the set backs of daily life.

One of my favorite jobs on the boat includes being the main cook and galley manager. Before we left port, the captain and I decided the menu, bought and stowed the grub. We headed out confident that we’d be well fed until our next projected stop in Juneau.

Les does the grilling, and I whip up my magic on the two burner propane stove top. No microwave, no coffee maker and no oven lends itself to some creative cooking. For coffee we use a pour over system. Usually for breakfast, whoever gets out of bed first starts the water in our coffee pot that has a nice pour over spout. The pot holds enough water for two cups of Joe, and 2 bowls of instant oatmeal. Lunches consist of sandwiches or leftovers. On this trip, I have come to appreciate the versatility of a good frying pan with a glass lid.

Although we’ve had plenty of sunshine, while traveling on the water the comfortable temps (50s-60s) can feel chilly. So for lunch, I will often “grill” our sandwiches. I toasted our leftover croissants one day for our turkey sandwiches.

Also a grilled PBJ is very satisfying. I use sunflower butter because of allergies. Any nut butter and a lovely jam on sourdough bread spread with margarine or spritzed with olive oil then browned on both sides in the frying pan makes a warm, comforting nosh on a chilly day.

My other discovery has been cooking canned biscuits on low heat in the pan. Once they get started I cover them with the glass lid, which has a hole for steam, and the biscuits plump right up. For Les’ birthday, I made chicken pot pie in the pan by warming up leftover grilled chicken cubed, sliced fresh carrot, canned green beans and canned peas with cream of chicken soup diluted. After simmering those for a bit with my own mix of seasonings, I added the biscuits on top. Cooked with lid off for about 5-10 minutes then covered until biscuits spring back. (They don’t really brown on top, but they were tasty as the “crust” of the pot pie.

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The crowning glory of my cookery this past week of living on the boat, with no stops in port, but anchoring out each night, was baking a gingerbread cake for Les’ big 6-0 birthday. A few years ago, a savvy boater introduced me to the omnia oven. A contraption that acts like an oven on the stovetop. I used a box mix of gingerbread prepared according to the package directions, then placed it in the “bundt” shaped pan lined with a precut parchment paper. I preheated the ring that holds the pan above the flame, and for the first time (I’ve tried before) I didn’t burn the bottom of the cake. We feasted on the cake for dessert and a couple times for breakfast, instead of our usual oatmeal. Very yummy with our morning cup of java.

All this mundane talk of food reminds me of another facet of daily life that brings me much joy, as we live aboard: my kitchen window. At home, my kitchen sink faces a blue tiled wall. One of the delights of having the boat has been realizing that although I don’t have a kitchen window with a view at home, whenever we’re boating we get to have the most spectacular views out the “kitchen window” of the boat. I leave you with some photos of those views.

Next up the exhilarating adventure of entering and exiting Ford’s Terror.

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is.
Blessed are you who run to him.

(Psalm 34:8 The Message)

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

Les’ Notes

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Distance: 46 miles

Hours today: 6.5

We pushed away from the dock in Wrangell shortly before 5:00am with hopes of getting across Sumner Strait before the winds picked up. It was pretty smooth as we came around Five Mile Island and threaded our way between Vank and Sokolof Islands. The next 12 miles or so to the Wrangell Narrows entrance was a splashy but not uncomfortable ride at 8 mph.

The Wrangell Narrows is a 20+ mile winding, narrow (duh?!) channel that provides the most protected yet direct route north for all but the very large cruise ships. It’s well-marked and well-charted, but requires attention to stay in the confined deeper channel and avoid all the other vessels using this passage. AIS indicated a larger vessel (tug, I assume) entering the channel northbound ahead of us, and another very large cruiser exited southbound as we approached.  We didn’t meet anything larger than small fishing boats until we neared Petersburg. There was a bit of a traffic jam of small fishing boats from the lodges near Green Point.  

We left Wrangell just before high slack tide, so I expected we’d have to fight the current during the first half of the narrows. Indeed in a couple spots we paid a 4 mph penalty for this, though we had a push after passing the point at which tidal currents from each end of the narrows meet. We arrived in Petersburg shortly before low slack, which limited the amount of current we’d wrestle when docking. We’re at a slip on Float One of the North Harbor, very close to the Harbormaster Office and the compact downtown area. Tomorrow we’ll catch up on laundry and do some exploring in town.

This evening we watched as the Wilderness Explorer, a smaller cruise ship, passed by Petersburg to begin its southbound passage through the Wrangell Narrows. I’m thankful we didn’t have to contend with traffic of that size during our passage.

Friday, July 2, 2021

Petersburg out-and-back to Le Conte Glacier

Distance : 53 miles

We took a day trip today to Le Conte Bay in hopes of seeing Le Conte Glacier, the southernmost tidewater glacier in North America. We met the National Geographic Venture cruise ship as she entered the narrows from Frederick Sound; we cheated slightly outside the channel to allow them room.

The 15 miles across Frederick Sound to the mouth of Le Conte Bay were very smooth, and we didn’t need to slow down for ice until we reached the west entrance to the bay.  Low clouds limited visibility and blended with the horizon. The Douglass guide and notes from Active Captain describe the bay as tricky and treacherous, with a narrow entrance and shallow bar. (A bar is the place where the water shallows as you enter a bay.) We came in just after a 13-foot high tide and didn’t see less than 33 feet of depth across the bar.  We saw only a few pieces of ice until we rounded Indian Point. The valley walls and waterfall opposite Thunder Point were beautiful as the clouds lifted just enough to see glimpses of the peaks above. 

We saw a larger boat, Northern Song, ahead of us. This is an 84-foot steel-hull charter expedition yacht with 4 cabins and room for 9 guests.  They stayed ahead of us as we rounded the last point to see the face of the glacier. Though I’ve seen lots of pictures, it’s hard to describe the enormity as we saw the glacier face firsthand. We were able to get within a mile of the glacier before I got less than comfortable with the amount of ice. Northern Song and a tour boat from Petersburg that arrived after us continued to a point about a half mile closer. We hung around for 30-40 minutes and saw the glacier calve a couple times. We saw a few seals on the ice, though a local I talked with later said they are usually thick in the bay. All in all, a very awe-inspiring experience for our first glacier.

We had another very flat run across the sound on our return to Petersburg, as the clouds cleared to a sunny and comfortable afternoon. For dinner we joined Ron and Michele Hall and their friends Jeff and Susie. Ron originally owned Viking Lady, a CD-25 that I remember from earlier promotional material. Both couples now own Krogens which they keep in Alaska.  We had a very good dinner at Inga’s Galley, which serves Thai food in addition to fish and burgers. We’ll stay in Petersburg through tomorrow to watch fireworks and then head up toward Juneau beginning Sunday.

Kel’s Musings

We arrived in Petersburg around noon on Wednesday, which gave me the opportunity to connect to the internet. I wanted to watch the live stream of my niece Brianna at the Fort Worth IEA Western National Finals. We are extremely proud of her, as she earned second place in her event. Way to go Brianna!

Wednesday afternoon, we scoped out Petersburg to see where the grocery, laundry and showers were located. Thankfully the shower was right at the top of our dock’s ramp. Thus far it was the best shower for the value, $2.00 for 7.5 minutes. I am glad to report that all my showers here have been successful with hot water and plenty of water pressure. For dinner, we enjoyed Papa Bear’s pizza.

Thursday, we puttered around doing laundry and then hiking to the bigger grocery store about a mile away, because Les noticed that the one on Nordic Street didn’t have much selection in their meat department. It was a nice day for a walk. I used my cart to take the laundry up, but Les figured we wouldn’t need it for groceries. We ended up with four bags of groceries, and a nice afternoon with no rain, so we didn’t mind the return walk. About one block into our walk, a woman pulled up next to us to ask if we’d like a ride. I hesitated, then said yes. Les agreed, and we hopped in and enjoyed chatting with our local driver. Her family owns a salmon tender, which they we’re getting ready to take out this weekend, so she knew exactly where to take us, since their boat was on the same dock. While we didn’t need a ride, we both commented on how it was kind of her to offer, and that was the main reason we accepted. Lesson of the day: accept help when you may not really need it. It brought us joy, and it seemed to give her added gladness to her day, too.

We didn’t get a chance to ask her what a salmon tender does, but later some other friendly boaters explained it to us. A salmon tender is a boat that goes out to the fishing boats to collect their catch to bring it back for them. Also while they are out there picking up a load, they provide a canteen with burgers and such, and have showers on board for the fishers to use. Pretty cool!

It started raining Thursday afternoon, after we put away our groceries, so we just lounged around the boat and ate leftover pizza. We went to bed early, because we planned to set out early Friday morning to see our first glacier. Like Les said, the immensity of it is hard to describe, and I couldn’t help but take lots of photos of the glacier and all the “ice sculptures” floating in the bay.

A highlight of the day trip to Le Conte Bay, besides the gorgeous ice forms, was netting our first bergie bits. I did not know this, but when the calved ice that floats in the bay starts to melt, smaller clear chunks of green ice split off. Bergie bits are these ice pieces. People use a net to take some to use in their coolers. So we both caught some, and then in the evening Les explained further that the ice was actually fresh water, even though we harvested it from salt water. He estimates that the ice that came originally from the frozen glacier may be a thousand years old. It’s apparently very pure ice. We chipped off a chunk for each of us to use in our cocktails that evening. I made a Gin and Ti-tonic. G&T over my bergie bit from an iceberg. So many new experiences, it’s hard to contain all the awesomeness.

Friday was a full day with the out and back to the glacier, and then I did some shopping downtown to look for souvenirs. The hardware store, the grocery, the drugstore and the local newspaper all carried paper products and craft supplies. I had fun getting envelopes, stickers, art supplies and other sundry items. I also bought a couple flowering plants to add to my “vegetable” garden on the boat. Friday evening we enjoyed taking notes and listening to stories from the two couple we joined for dinner, since they each have spent multiple summers in the Inside Passage.

Saturday finds us puttering around, buying a few more groceries, enjoying the festivities for the holiday weekend and planning our next leg to Juneau. We will be exploring bays along the way and anchoring out. Too bad we can’t hire the salmon tender to come out and cook us burgers and use their showers, but we’ll survive.

I will leave you with some wild life photos:

Light, space, zest—
that’s God! (Psalm 27:1 The Message)

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

Les’ Notes

Sunday, June 27, 2021

Madan Bay to Wrangell Heritage Marina

Distance: 18 miles

Cumulative distance: 921 miles

We had less than 20 miles remaining to today’s destination at Wrangell, so we slept in a little and ate a relaxed breakfast. While retrieving the anchor, a section of our rode jammed in the windlass. No amount of tugging from above or below would dislodge it. I opened up my PC to pull up a copy of the manual, so that I’d have a better idea of how to partially disassemble it; unfortunately, the windlass manual seems to be the only one I did not download to my PC before leaving St. Louis. Realizing I wouldn’t have an internet connection until we arrived in Wrangell, I pulled up the rest of the rode and anchor the old-fashion way and left it sitting in a pile on the deck for our trip to Wrangell.

The cruise to Wrangell up the rest of the Eastern Passage was smooth, and we turned around the northern tip of Wrangell Island toward the town. We were told by the harbor master to go the Heritage Marina about a mile south of town. It’s the newer basin where they seem to put transients, and includes a long side-tie transient dock with 30- and 50-amp power stations. We’re sharing the transient dock with just one other boat tonight.

Once docked, I set about downloading the (not very good, IMO) documentation from Lewmar for my windlass. After analyzing the exploded view and instructions for removing the gypsy, I grabbed a couple tools and headed (with great trepidation) to the bow to start surgery. I’ve dropped enough tools and small bits into the water in my short time as a boater to view this as a high-risk operation. Not only am I not terribly familiar with the inner workings of my windlass, but losing a small part to Davy Jones’ Locker would make it that much worse. Kel sat in the cabin and held each part as I removed it. Apparently a section of the line (perhaps a twisted, rather than straight section) jammed and got mangled between the gypsy and rope guard, instead of falling into the anchor locker. Two of the strands were mangled pretty badly, so I didn’t have much confidence in integrity of the line. The mangled section was a little more than 100 feet into my 300 feet of line, so cutting and using the remainder of the line was not my preferred approach. I have two shorter backup rodes, but both only have 20’ of chain, so I wanted to stick with my primary that has 50’. I called the Sentry Hardware in Wrangell, and they had 300’ of ½” 3-strand nylon line available.

Kel and I headed toward downtown Wrangell to get rope and ice. On the way, we passed a garage sale, whereupon I (Les) rolled my eyes while Kel checked it out. Fortuitously, they had a basket-style cart for $5. This would be cheaper than a cab ride back once we were loaded down with ice and 300 feet of line. We picked up the line for a very reasonable price, grabbed two bags of ice across the street at the City Market, and headed back to the Marina.

Some of our St. Louis weather has followed us to Alaska. It was almost 80 degrees in Wrangell today. We’ll stay here in Wrangell for at least another day – it usually only takes me several hours to execute an ugly 3-strand to chain splice. I know they’re not supposed to be that difficult, but mine never seem to look quite as tidy as those in online tutorials.

Monday and Tuesday, June 28-29, 2021

Wrangell

With warm, sunny days in the forecast, we decided to devote Monday morning to boat cleaning. I’m sure we looked a little like the Clampetts doing spring cleaning, but we weren’t in anyone’s way and were uncertain when we’d have another day in port with weather this nice.

In the evening I worked to splice my new line to the anchor chain. I was in no position to be picky about the quality of this line, but it sure feels soft and kink-free. It ran smoothly through the windlass when we re-loaded the rode today.

After we re-loaded the rode, we headed toward Wrangell for some non-boating adventures. We walked north of town to Petroglyph Beach State Historical Site, which was quite cool. We finished wandering the beach by ourselves searching for petroglyphs just before three tour buses arrived.

We walked back to town and had lunch at the “Queen’s Booth”, an outdoor breakfast/lunch spot which raises funds for the Wrangell’s July 4 extravaganza. We then went to the laundromat for showers before backtracking to the Wrangell Museum and City Market. The museum located at the civic center provides an excellent history of settlements in Southeast Alaska and Wrangell in particular.

 The weather looks good tomorrow for the run across Sumner Strait to the Wrangell Narrows and north to Petersburg. We expect to stay there through July 3, with a possible out-and-back to Le Conte Glacier during that time.

Kel’s Musings

“Have you ever painted a flounder?” asked the young boy who was intently trying to remove the hook from the mouth a small flounder. His grandmother and younger brother sitting nearby watched our interaction. I answered “No, I haven’t. How do you paint a flounder?” I was imagining it was some unique Wrangell tradition, when the grandmother explained, “You paint a flounder, then take a piece of fabric and place it over to pick up the print.” I responded with, “Oh. This is the first live flounder I’ve ever seen.” She said, “We also have got a pretty good imprint of a salmon and a halibut.” One never knows what kind of conversation might happen on the dock. The boy broke part of the hook, and the grandmother commented that the flounder would end up being bait.

When we arrived in Wrangell, our moods were a little sour because instead of our routine of shower, laundry, dinner, we had the chore of fixing our rode in the forefront of our minds. Les had called to scope out where we could buy rope, and as he mentioned I found us a rolling cart to haul it in. After we got back from the rope, ice and garage sale adventure, I was tired and sticky. We weren’t expecting these higher temps in Alaska.

After we stowed the rope, cart and ice, Les asked if I wanted to walk to town in a bit to get our showers. I replied, “Not really.” It sounded like too much effort, since we had just walked two miles round trip into town, and we’d have to cover that same route again to get a shower at the laundromat. He said something about dinner, and I thought he was bribing me with dinner in town, so I’d agree to the shower hike. (Really, he said we could have dinner on the boat first.) Once I realized the miscommunication, I laughed in spite of my mood and told him what I had heard. We agreed dinner in town would be a good treat after our showers. We packed our clean clothes, towels, soap and quarters in Les’ backpack, and he graciously carried our gear into town. At the laundromat/showers, Les handed me a handful of quarters. I didn’t bother counting them because our past experience was that the time limit was usually longer than either of us really needed. So when I realized I had $2.75 worth of quarters, I wasn’t concerned. I didn’t need the 5 minute and 40 sec shower for $3.00. I could save a quarter by shaving a few seconds off my time. So I got ready for my shower, and deposited my quarters. I turned on the shower. A trickle of cold water came out of the shower head. I waited for the water pressure and temperature to increase. No luck. I realized I could ask Les for another quarter, but that meant putting clothes back on and finding him. So I decided to make the trickle of cold water work. I probably spent less than two minutes washing my hair and splashing myself with cold water. I dried off and got dressed, and exited to the laundromat to wait for Les. I found a book and a couple free magazines that interested me. When Les came out, I told him my story. He was irked, but I said it made for a good story.

After that we ambled over to the only restaurant that we could find open in town on a Sunday evening. We stepped inside, and immediately knew that we were the outsiders. No one came to seat us, so we seated ourselves. Thankfully, the friendly bartender, saw us sitting there, and she took our order for drinks. I walked over to an adjacent table to get the menus from other patrons who had just ordered. When we were in town earlier, I noticed they had a movie theater, and we had hoped to get showers, a quick dinner and then make it to the movie. Alas, Les’ prediction that dinner might take 45 minutes, turned into what seemed like 2 hours. We enjoyed our beverages, and when the food arrived, a pizza for Les and a burger for me, they were delicious. We had long missed the movie date, so we walked back the mile to our boat and went to bed before the sun set.

Monday we woke up to another beautiful sunny day, so we decided to clean the boat. Wash off the salt water and swab the decks. We hauled out the floor coverings to hose them off, and then let them dry in the sun. To get those out, we also removed all the gear we stow in the cockpit, plus I decided to air out our sleeping bags and sheets. I wasn’t ready to walk the mile to the laundromat, so I put off that chore until our next stop in Petersburg. Since our arrival in Wrangell was colored by the rope situation and the shower situation, we extended our stay for an extra night, so that on Tuesday we could do some sightseeing. After the cleaning chore was done, we relaxed on the boat and caught up on our travelogue notes and musings.

On Tuesday, we packed Les’ backpack again with shower gear and plenty of quarters. We walked first to a beach two miles away from the marina to see the petroglyphs. The entrance was under construction, and a helpful worker told us where to see the most petroglyphs. We walked back to town, and I found a table full of free items. I picked through them and told Les I’d only take what I could carry. I found a T-shirt, capri leggings and a well-worn Bible with a purple cover and the word “Encounter” emblazoned on it.

In town, we looked for a restaurant for lunch. Out of the 4 or 5 places in town only a couple were really open. We ended up getting lunch at a booth, where the proceeds were going to the Fourth of July festivities. We might win some money, since our lunch cost included a booklet of raffle tickets. (We don’t have to be present to win.) After lunch, it was time for our showers.

I was confident that I had enough quarters, so I was excited for a luxurious full pressure, hot shower. I deposited the $3.00 worth of quarters and turned on the shower. I specifically picked a different stall, hoping that it would be better than before. A cold trickle came out, and I was not going to add another quarter! So I proceeded to splash myself with cold water, and then it occurred to me that there was a sink with running water right next to the shower. I just happened to bring my empty drink cup into the shower, because you have to keep all your stuff with you. I dumped out the ice and turned on the sink faucet. All this time, I could have had a FREE hot “shower” by using the sink. I luxuriated in the hot water, and it still took me less than five minutes. I didn’t bother to get a refund. Once again, Les and I met in the laundry area, I laughed and told him about my experience. He was still miffed, but I just was glad to feel a bit cleaner. We headed to the Wrangell Museum, which was very good. Then we stopped by for some ice and other sundries at the City Market, and hiked the mile back to the boat. Since we’re having warmer temps here, pretty much our showers were useless. We cooled off a little and slumped into the berth for an afternoon nap.

We are looking forward to going to Petersburg tomorrow. We hear they have showers right at the marina.

I’m thanking you, God, from a full heart, I’m writing the book on your wonders. I’m whistling, laughing, and jumping for joy; I’m singing your song, High God. (Psalm 9:1-2 The Message)

Words and Photos by Les and Kel Rohlf (as indicated)

Les’ Notes

Friday, June 25, 2021

Ketchikan to Santa Anna Inlet

Mileage today: 65

Cumulative mileage: 864

We left Ketchikan at 5:00am in fog and a light mist. We cooked breakfast while slowly making our way north out of Tongass Narrows toward the entry to Clarence Strait. The weather indicated waves “2 feet or less” in Clarence Strait, and my backup plan was to duck into Knudson Harbor or one of the other anchorages just inside the Behm Canal if things looked too dicey.

The water was just choppy as we passed Guard Island, so we ran fast across the Behm Canal entrance and part way up the west side of Cleveland Peninsula toward Meyers Chuck. It was a bit of a busy ride – winds and swells out of the southwest resulted in following waves on the port beam. We slowed approaching Meyers Chuck, and the water calmed dramatically as we neared the turn to Ernest Sound.

While running at 8mph in Clarence Strait, a pod of Dalls Porpoises (I think) appeared and surfed our bow wave. That’s really not a good description – they appeared alongside or at our bow and zipped by as if to taunt us for going so slow.  It was quite a show, lasting for 3 or 4 minutes before they disappeared.

My preliminary anchorage plan was Vixen Cove, a small nook on the southeast side of Union Point. It’s a good example of misleading information in the charts – my charting software shows the wider opening around the south side of the rock which guards the entrance. In fact (as shown in the Douglass guide), the better passage is around the north side of the rock. As we lined up for the entrance, I lost my nerve. It was near low tide (-4’ this morning), and I wasn’t convinced there was suitable depth in the very narrow channel. Had we been closer to high tide with 10 or more additional feet of depth, it would not have seemed as perilous.

It was still early in the day, so we continued our leisurely cruise up Ernest Sound and pulled into Santa Anna Inlet about 1:30pm, shortly before high tide. We went the mile to the head of the inlet and anchored in 60’ of water. Around the edges, the bottom rapidly shallowed to less than 20 feet, which would not have provided much buffer for tonight’s low tide.  As we set the anchor the first time, the back of the boat was over that shallow area, so we pulled it and dropped the anchor closer to the center of the inlet. We had a very picturesque site at the head of the bay just opposite a waterfall that provided a soothing rush of sound.

Another larger cruiser (aren’t they all?) pulled in after us to share the inlet. Then at 7:30 pm, the 110-foot motor vessel Dulcinea (Newport Beach, CA) pulled into the inlet and motored past both of the anchored boats to put out crab/shrimp pots at the very head of the inlet. They then motored back between the two of us and anchored. He did so deftly, but it seemed like an awfully large boat to fit into the small area I left between our anchor and the drying flat at the head of the bay.

Saturday, June 26, 2021

Santa Anna Inlet to Madan Bay

Distance today: 39 miles

Cumulative distance: 903 miles

We didn’t have a long distance planned for today, and I wanted to arrive at Anan Bay after low tide, so we ate a leisurely breakfast and left the anchorage at 6:30am.  Since the holding is reportedly poor at Anan Bay, I wanted to anchor early in the rising tide, so that both the incoming tide and northwest winds would hold the boat in the same relative spot while we were away.  A changing tide or winds might turn the boat and cause the anchor to release or drag.

Dulcinea caught up with us as we pulled into Anan Bay, but she just made a slow circuit and departed up the Blake Channel toward Wrangell. Today’s exercise involved launching our new dinghy and motor from the boat for the first time. Embarking went fine until we needed to secure it at the beach landing. We left it barely floating and stuck the cheesy grapple-style dinghy anchor in the mud on its 25’ line and tied another 25’ line around a rock to secure it. In the 5 minutes we debated whether this would be sufficient and where the path to the observation area started, the rising tide had covered both lines. Plan B: I removed the Torqeedo motor and carried it to a point above the high-water mark, after which we carried the dinghy up to a point just short of the high-water mark. This proved sufficient for the one hour we were away.

There are two trail routes to the Anan Creek observation area: one involves a half-mile trail that starts at the Forest Service cabin and winds around the ridge; the other is a spot on the creek that meets the first path near the observation area. A work boat was parked there – I suspect there may not be enough depth in the creek to get to that spot from the bay during low tides, and the current may require a pretty powerful dinghy to make it upstream against the creek’s current. We hiked the first path and arrived at the observation area above the creek to see a crew working alongside the creek with a backhoe.  We did see a mink scamper along the creek, but no bears.

When we returned to our dinghy we were met by Bruce, who with his family were spending a couple nights in the Forest Service cabin. He seemed to think the Pink Salmon that returned to this creek to spawn would not start returning until later in July.

We managed to get the dinghy re-loaded to the cabin top without damage to it or ourselves. Next investment – a lifting Davit to facilitate the process. We left Anan Bay and turned north up the Blake channel. We got a nice boost with the tide. Our planned anchorage for today was Berg Bay, which is a stunning setting with a snow-capped mountain rising directly above it and another high ridge to the east. The greeting committee for Berg Bay were horseflies, who surrounded the boat and made every effort to gain entry to the cabin. Since I planned to grill this evening, I didn’t want their help, so we made a circuit of the bay and moved on toward Madan Bay.  We anchored near the head of Madan Bay. It was still breezy, as there was only a tree line to shield us from the northwest wind, rather than higher terrain. The wind calmed later and we had a quiet, restful night.

Kel’s Musings

What’s in God’s pocket? That’s a question that I keep asking myself, as we travel along. The question originated when I noticed a place on our map labeled, “God’s Pocket.” I’ve always been fascinated by the child who collects objects in their pocket. As we experience this trip, it feels like we are getting a glimpse into God’s pocket. As we pass through marvel after marvel, I like to imagine that Les and I, too are collecting things in our “pockets,” like intangibles, indescribables and inlets. We left Ketchikan through a bank of low clouds.

Les is the investigator and scout. I am the lookout and collector. He likes to have an idea of where we’re going, using maps, guidebooks and reports from others who have traversed these waters before us. I want mysteries, surprises and even the unexpected challenge can be invigorating for me. We approach things differently, but we both enjoy the adventure together and separately. Once again we awoke early to benefit from the calmer weather in the morning. The fog lifted as the day opened up, and we chugged to Santa Anna Inlet. Upon entering the mile long inlet a rock wall poked it’s face out at us to welcome us with its pensive smile. We started to anchor at the mouth of the inlet near the rocky walls, but then something in me asked Les to cruise to the end, just to see what was down there.

As we approached the back of the inlet, we noticed remnants of a dock, and a rusty something or another, which made us wonder who might have tried to live back here at one time. Nearby, we spotted a babbling brook flowing into the water. Upon further investigation, we realized it was a decent size waterfall.

We checked the depth of the water by making a wide circle where we intended to drop the anchor. With tides shifting twenty feet, we needed to make sure if we anchored at high tide to account for the drop in depth when low tide occurred. (If you’re in 40 feet of water at high tide, and it’s supposed to drop twenty, you want to make sure you really are in 40 feet of water rather than 10 feet. Math is important in these situations.) After making our anchorage calculations and dropping the anchor securely, I decided to lay down in the berth and listen to the waterfall. I slept for quite a bit, because it was late afternoon when I climbed out of bed. Les made us omelets for dinner, because we had picked up a dozen eggs while in Ketchikan.

We went to bed before the sunset, realizing we would not witness the full moon, unless we stayed up until 10:30pm or so. It’s hard to stay up late, even with a long nap during the day. So we went to bed knowing we could sleep in a little, since we were only going about 20 miles the next day.

The next day, we set out for a side trip to Anan Bay, and then planned to anchor at Berg Bay. (Berg Bay is spectacular, and both the view there and the time spent at Anan Bay, were definitely something you could find in God’s pocket.) At Anan Bay, we hoped to spy bears eating salmon. We were pleased because the observatory was open, even though the official season opens July 5^th. We arrived as the tide was coming in, because Les knew that we’d have a couple hours to look around and still get back into our dinghy while the waters rose. It was the first time using the dinghy on this trip, so we were carefully unloading it from the boat, and then methodically handing off the electric motor, so as not to drop it in the bottom of the sea. (We used a system of hooking the motor to a line attached to the boat as I handed the motor to Les, then he attached it to a line in the dinghy. That way if it slipped into the water, we could still retrieve it. Les thinks of these things, and for that I am very grateful.) We successfully managed the motor, and stowed an anchor, water bottles and my camera bag before I stepped down into the dinghy from the side of the boat. All was well, and we motored over to shore. While motoring the 100 yards or so to shore, we were trying to figure out where to land the dinghy, and where we might secure it while we went for a ½ mile hike to look for bears. We decided on a sandy beach, and thought we might tie off to a tree. We used the weighted anchor, but didn’t feel it was adequate, so we tied a second line to a rock. Rocks don’t float. But as we walked back to get our gear for the hike, we were alarmed by how quickly the tide was rising. We realized quickly that we needed higher ground with a place to get back into the dinghy, because soon the only way to get back in would be from the hiking path and steep rocks. We scanned the situation. (No rangers were around to help because it’s off-season.) I suggested we get back in the dinghy, and troll over to the beach where there was a rental cabin. He agreed, but he’d have to take the motor off to carry it to higher ground, and then both of us portage the dinghy to be tied off near the motor.

I checked out the cabin, no one was there. Next, I quickly used the outhouse near the cabin, because when nature calls, you’re very thankful for the gift of a facility, especially when past sojourners have left fresh toilet paper in said establishment. No bears were lurking around either, which was a relief. Les and I got the dinghy and motor where we felt comfortable leaving them. Once we found the trailhead, Les told me we had an hour to hike in and back before getting too concerned about the tide.

Ok, then! Here we go! Off to see bears! As we were walking on the lovely boardwalk trail maintained by the Forest Service, Les instructed me to talk loudly, in order to alert bears that we were in the vicinity. I talked incessantly, and Les whistled, when I took a pause for breath. We made it to the observatory in under 20 minutes. But alas, no salmon, thus no bears. An eagle was scolding some forest workers, who were working on a barge in the lagoon. And we did see a mink scurry along the bank. We turned around, and I stopped occasionally to snap a photo, and continued my monologue/dialogue with whistling Les.

When we got back to the bay, a boat carrying people and a canoe was arriving. A family had hired the outfitter to bring them and their gear to the cabin for a couple night stay. Cool! We chatted for a bit, then Les and I hauled the dinghy and motor about 50 feet down to the water, where the tide had risen while we were gone. Les rigged the motor back on, and we were puttering back to our boat with four minutes to spare on the hour that Les had allotted us. Even though we didn’t see bears, we felt our hour was well spent. Les spent the next half hour or so reloading the dinghy on top of the boat. We left right around lunch time, and so I made us some sandwiches while we headed to Berg Bay. We pulled up to a view of the mountains we hadn’t experienced yet, so close and green and gorgeous, but a horse fly was nipping at our necks. We paused to enjoy the view, and decided it would be more pleasant to anchor elsewhere, so we could grill and relax in peace.

We ended up going an extra 20 miles and found a quiet cove in Madan Bay. We dropped anchor, Les grilled chicken and I peeled and cut up carrots to sauté them in brown sugar, salt and pepper, lime juice, oil and a splash of whiskey. The northwest wind had picked up, and twirled the boat around, just like a fine restaurant that boasts a rotating view. We enjoyed our chicken, carrots and canned biscuits (which I’m perfecting how to bake over a low heat in a covered frying pan.) Dinner al fresco! We went to bed before the sunset once again, and hoped to sleep in past 6:00am. We were looking forward to a leisurely cruise to Wrangell with hot showers at the laundromat the next day.

These are the things I go over and over,
    emptying out the pockets of my life.
I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd,
    right out in front,
Leading them all,
    eager to arrive and worship,
Shouting praises, singing thanksgiving—
    celebrating, all of us, God’s feast! (Psalm 42:4 The Message)

Words by Les and Kel Rohlf Photos by Les Rohlf (June 21-24, 2021)

Les’ Notes

As of late afternoon on Wednesday, June 23, order has returned to the universe, and it’s raining in Ketchikan, Alaska. We’ve enjoyed the last few days of dry weather to relax and explore a little. While we’ve been relaxing, there’s a continual hum of activity here at the Bar Harbor South Basin with fishing boats arriving or departing. We’re in between two floatplane zones, so we see and hear the regular departures from the north zone and approaches to the south zone just over the basin’s break wall. The Ketchikan airport is on Gravina Island and across the channel from us, so we also see the commercial airline arrival/departures.

We walked the 2 miles to downtown on Monday, wandered through a few shops, and had good burgers at the 108 Tap Room. The downtown area where cruise ships normally dock has obviously been hurt by their absence this year and last. It’s nice for us to be able to wander without fighting the crowds, but I hurt for everyone here who relies on tourism for their livelihood. The young lady running the nearby coffee shop indicated she’d otherwise be leading tour groups.

After spending a little time here, I’m glad we were assigned a spot at Bar Harbor South Basin. There are three main public Marinas in Ketchikan proper: Thomas Basin, Casey Moran, and Bar Harbor. Thomas Basin sits at the mouth of Ketchikan Creek adjacent to downtown; Casey Moran is a short distance north and is tucked behind one of the cruise ship berths. While close to downtown, I don’t believe these marinas offer nearby shower or laundry facilities. Bar Harbor, about 1.5 miles north of downtown, includes showers at the Harbor Office (North Basin) and a laundry adjacent to the South Basin. The Safeway is just a couple blocks south of Bar Harbor as well. Visiting the downtown area is not difficult either by walking, taxi, or public bus. One minor negative about the Bar Harbor men’s restroom – it includes only a single sit-down toilet. In a large marina like this one, it’s an in-demand property most mornings.

On Tuesday, we caught the bus and visited the Totem Heritage Center. They have an excellent museum showcasing several totems preserved from the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries. From there, we followed the creek down the hill and walked through historic “Creek Street” to its end at Thomas Basin. We had an excellent lunch (Halibut Fish and Chips and Kebab Platter) at the New York Café. Kel has also identified and thoroughly scoured the three thrift stores in town.

Today (Thursday) is one of big tidal extremes. The low tide this morning was -3.8 feet, after last night’s high of 18.2 feet. A very low tide creates an extreme angle to the walkway from the floating docks up to street level. It’s a good workout for your quads going up, and a rather harrowing experience coming down.

Kel’s Musings

Staying in port lends itself to a different routine than the early morning departures of transit, and long haul cruises to get to each anchorage, which we practiced on the way here. After our initial arrival in Ketchikan followed by showers, laundry and dinner, we have settled into a daily rhythm of sleeping in a little, 6am instead of our 4am wake-up calls.

Monday night, we scoped out the closest coffee shop, and Les asked if I noticed the thrift store next to the laundromat. I had noticed, and even found out that they opened at 10am. Monday’s agenda included breakfast at the Pilothouse Coffee shop, and then heading to the thrift store to find a few more warm clothes to supplement my wardrobe. The weather has been temperate, and even the gentle rains when they occur feel welcome, rather than dreaded. But in the evenings and in the mornings layering my clothes makes life more comfortable. Until Wednesday, we hadn’t really broke out our raincoats or rain boots, but we appreciated both, when we walked into town to splurge on a pair of taller rain boots for me, with octopus print lining that I spied in a brochure.

Besides shopping and walking, we’ve enjoyed meeting folks and just witnessing how the locals live as they sling coffee or flip hamburgers or filet halibut at the stainless steel tables at the end of the dock. We met a fellow traveler at the Arctic Bar, who gave us insider tips on eateries here, as well as in Sitka. People are friendly and welcoming. Even the dogs here are nice. We miss our Kokomo, so when a stranger lets me pet their dog, it fills a spot in my heart. We also miss the cat, but she’s never been on the boat, so it’s not as strange for her to be absent.

It has been strange to see very few tourists strolling around downtown, giving the whole vibe a surreal, off-season, ghost town feel at times. We appreciate when someone strikes up a conversation and makes the effort to be sociable. Long times of solitude are good, yet I prefer my solitude to be balanced with human interaction. Both make the journey all the more interesting.

As we close out our stay at Ketchikan, we take our showers, do the laundry and eat out for lunch. We have bought a few groceries each day to restock, since we have to carry whatever we buy back to the boat. I would guess that over the past few days, we walked about twenty miles. I appreciate the change of pace when we’re in port, but also look forward to the next stops along the way. The cool thing about this adventure is that we will be coming back through to return to our starting point. So if we missed anything or want to revisit a favorite haunt we can. I saved my coffee punch card for just such an occasion.

The revelation of God is whole
    and pulls our lives together.
The signposts of God are clear
    and point out the right road.
The life-maps of God are right,
    showing the way to joy.
The directions of God are plain
    and easy on the eyes.
God’s reputation is twenty-four-carat gold,
    with a lifetime guarantee.
The decisions of God are accurate
    down to the nth degree. (Psalm 19: 7-9 The Message)