From the Log of Safari

Sea Safari to Alaska

 

Sunday, May 4, 2003 Safari severed her tether to SFYC at 5:30 a.m. on a dark and stormy morning after a one-day wait for better conditions.  The hearty crew of four (Captain Wyman Harris, First Mate Gay Harris, Crew Dave Dury and Crew Don Bekins) filled with anticipation saw the first light of day as Safari steamed out of the Golden Gate and met sizable swells left over from yesterday’s storm.  As the day wore on the skies cleared and the 20-knot wind dropped to the predicted 12 knots where it stayed for most of the day.  One crewmember recovered quickly after losing his breakfast to mal de mer.  Today’s wildlife of choice was a graceful albatross that spent several hours entertaining us with his graceful flight as he disappeared behind the swells only to reappear again looking ever so much like a giant toy glider built of balsa wood and paper.  For dinner: poached salmon, asparagus, rice, and brownies with ice cream for dessert which one mate donated to Neptune.

 

Monday, May 5, 2003. The wind continued to drop during the night as the high pressure filled. With the sunrise, we experienced relatively smooth seas with some storm residue still evident. The kindly seas solved the mal de mer of our hearty crew. A beautiful sunrise and a strong cup of coffee brought a cheery crew on deck to observe the abundant birdlife flying near Safari: crossing under bow were numbers of shearwaters as flocks of storm petrels flitted from wave to wave, picking up plankton far out at sea. Then we were greeted with black and white murre’s, loaded with food, trying to take off, flapping their wings with frenzied paddling of webbed feet, bouncing and skipping from wave tops until finally airborne. Other avian visitors were diminutive pigeon guillemots, whose wings are so small, that, like the bumble bee, should not be able to fly  --- but they do!

During the day we encountered large rafts of floating jellyfish called velela-velela. These interesting 2-inch diameter creatures have a small vertical fin on their backs that acts like a sail, pushing the little jellies across oceans in vast numbers.

The calm seas allowed Safari to put into Brookings harbor’s narrow, rocky entrance for fuel (375 gallons). This quaint southern Oregon town is home for a large crab and fishing industry. As we were fueling the Coast Guard dropped by to do a boat check and inspection. These nice and efficient chaps were taken in tow by 1st mate, Gay, who very capably answered all questions about Safari while showing them all the boat’s safety and cruising equipment.

Since this town is famous for its crab, 2nd mate Don went off to search the town for fresh crab, not easy because it is the end of crab season. He brought back four crustaceans for a special lunch treat.

Seas continued calm through the night.

 

#2

 

Tuesday, May 6, 2003.  Most of the day was spent traveling on one course heading for 16 hours, as we made our way up the coast of Oregon and into Washington State.  The seas were very calm in the morning, with light winds.  As the day progressed, the winds increased slightly, to 14 knots by early evening.  Throughout the day, however, the seas were calm, with 2 to 4 foot swells and no wind waves.  We continued to pass large colonies of velela-velela, and noticed a surprising amount of non-native wildlife—plastic bottles, large chunks of foam, etc.  A straight course up the coast, hopping from major land point to land point, basically left us about 30 miles off-shore for much day.  For appetizers the ever-resourceful First Mate provided oysters and crackers with cheese (typical sailing fare?).  Dinner consisted of a ziti pasta casserole with tomato sauce, salad, and the seemingly always-available ice cream and brownies.   After dinner, as the watches began, the winds increased to 14 to 17 knots and the swells grew.  Throughout the night the wind held in the high teens, and the swells made for some rocking and rolling all night long.  However, the Offshore made it seem easy and the stabilizers substantially dampened the rocking.  We again ran past the fishing fleet in the middle of the night, causing several watch keepers to alter course to avoid fishing boats.  As morning dawned, we entered the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and the Captain and First Mate began to realize that their summer adventure is really at hand.

 

Wednesday, May 7, 2003, 3:00 p.m. Happy Birthday to Captain Wyman was a successful 800 nautical mile ocean voyage in 79.5 hours (including one three-hour fuel/crab stop), one-half hour ahead of schedule.  During the last two hours of the trip we changed our planned landfall from Port Sidney, B.C. to Roche Harbor, San Juan I., WA because the airlines in Canada required a passport or birth certificate to make reservations for Dave and Don to return to the U.S.  They had assumed that the past practice of using a driver’s license would work, but apparently not in the post 9/11 world.  Isn’t it ironic that now you can travel throughout Europe without stopping at borders, but North American security is tighter.  That’s OK with me if it keeps the bad guys out.

 

Thursday, May 8, 2003 Dave and Don departed the Roche Harbor dock via floatplane while Gay and Wyman made the one-hour trip to Port Sidney and cleared customs without incident.  Next guests are waiting at the harbor office.  Lovely day to provision and refuel for the adventure ahead.  Gay guided the new guests (Carol and Ken Jesmore) through the charming Sidney streets where a handsome man (Glen) greeted her, proving once again that a beautiful woman might be expected to know a man in any port.  Careful comparison-shopping resulted in a shiny new coffee pot.  Glen and Penny, owners of the Sunnfjord, Burnaby, reviewed in the May 2003 Sea magazine, joined us for cocktails.  Dinner at the wharf side Pub restaurant.

 

Friday, May 9,2003.   Safari motored over to the Van Isle Marina for a morning fuel feast (634 gallons) and then began her trek through the marine veldt.   Careful navigation led her through the oft treacherous but now peaceful Dodd Narrows to the booming town of Nanaimo.   Small sailboats passed us going east toward distant weekend regattas.  We anchored close to Newcastle Island.   A hearty hike on the island led quickly to serious recovery (cocktail) time on Safari’s sunny aft deck, accompanied by pan-fried oysters.  We dinghied the dinghy to the Dinghy Dock restaurant where we enjoyed fish and chips and a fine nighttime view of the Nanaimo lights.

 

Saturday, May 10, 2003, departed early to traverse the quiet Strait of Georgia, enroute to Desolation Sound.  The computer directed Safari to motor across Sarah Point but the human elements on board corrected her course.   An eagle soared overhead, welcoming us to Desolation Sound and to our anchoring spot in Prideaux Haven where we anchored alone.  We explored the quiet coves, discovered ancient pottery on the seabed and dined elegantly on fresh halibut as the sun set on magnificent snowy peaks. 

 

Sunday, May 11, 2003, Mother’s Day.  Gay, on early morning watch at 5:00 a.m., spotted an eagle as it swooped in to capture a fish.  The on-board eagles dined on fine eggs and bacon, building up strength for the challenges to come.  Safari faced and conquered many legendary rapids as the day progressed:  Yaculta, Dodd, Greenpoint and the infamous Whirlpool Rapids soon fell behind.   In the early evening she motored slowly into Forward Harbor, looking for bears, eagles, seals and Douglas Bay, where her able crew firmly set her anchor.  A fine cocktail hour commenced on the upper deck with superb views as the snow-covered mountains turned from white to pink to grey.  Early to bed for we will be…

 

Monday, May 12, 2003, …early to rise, 5:30 a.m. to be exact.   After seven straight sunny, cloudless days, the goal this gray morning is to quickly attack Johnstone Strait before the tides, currents and winds create havoc.   Good planning indeed, for the winds averaged 3 knots and our wake separated the glassy waters with ease.

 

#3

 

Monday, May 12, 2003 (continued) a group of tiny porpoises played in Safari’s wake en route to Port McNeill where we learned of the terrorist attack on the housing compounds in Saudi Arabia, including Al Hamra where our daughter and her family lived until February of this year.  According to reports from friends who still live there the compound was totally destroyed.  One friend was shot and killed by the terrorists and his wife and six-month old daughter were badly injured by the blast.  The boys’ school has been closed.

 

Tuesday, May 13, 2003 spent the day at Port McNeill performing minor maintenance and gaining local knowledge from Alaska bound veteran cruisers.

 

Wednesday, May 14, 2003 unsettled weather and rain didn’t deter an easy cruise to Port Hardy where as in Port McNeill the people seem to go out of their way to be friendly and helpful. 

 

Thursday, May 15, 2003 after seeing the Jesmores off to the airport we prepared for the next leg in rain off and on all day at the marina in Port Hardy. Concluding a three-week sail from San Francisco, Bob van Blaricom and crew aboard 32-foot Misty sailed into the harbor on schedule at noon and tied bow-to-bow with Safari.  We regaled each other with sea tales and talk of Alaskan adventures ahead. 

 

#4

 

Friday, May 16, 2003 update from our daughter . . .

 

“As many of you know, one of the compounds that was bombed on
Monday was Al Hamra Compound, where we lived.  Sadly, the death toll from
our compound alone currently stands at 13.  One of our friends was among
those lost, and many more are injured.  Several people have sent me still
photos of the compound and it is completely and utterly destroyed. Our
friends who are still living there are now homeless. To say we are in shock
is an understatement.

”As expatriates, the people on our compound became like family to us.  Even
if we weren't close friends, we saw most of the residents and workers on a
regular basis and knew them at least by face, if not by name.  The news
media keeps focusing on the fact that eight Americans were killed, but the
people of other nationalities are just as important to us because they were
our neighbors and friends.  Obviously, we are all grieving and feel a
profound sense of loss.  Thank you all for your prayers and kind words.  It
means a lot to us.”

 

After three days of rain the forecast is for a high to move on-shore bringing better weather and strong northwesterly wind—time to cross the Queen Charlotte Strait that at times can be merely cantankerous to downright dangerous.  Luckily our timing was perfect with only 10 knots of wind and giant swells left over from the storm that made the crossing interesting but not challenging.  The greatest hazards to navigation are hundreds of logs and trees that float off the shoreline during the full-moon high tide.  Some of these logs must have been moving around for decades picking a different spot to rest until the next full moon when they come out to do their mischief. 

 

Small squalls and rain showers moved around most of the day but missed Safari until just before we reached our destination.  Again our timing was perfect in that the shower washed off the salt spray and then cleared just as we prepared to anchor in Pruth Bay on Calvert Island.  Hakai Beach Resort, a luxury fly-in fishing resort, is at the head of the bay.  A trail leads from the resort across a narrow neck of land to West Beach, a spectacular fine-sand ocean beach on the west side of Calvert Island.  The resort was deserted except for the housemaid and caretaker who have been here since September and are awaiting the floatplane to bring their replacements today.

 

Saturday, May 17, 2003 we awoke to see that a tug had towed in a floating ranger station for the Hakai Recreation Area, an indication that we may eventually have some company in these lovely, remote spots.  Brilliant sunshine revealed fresh snow on the mountains and hills enroute to a quiet anchorage in Codville Lagoon, latitude 52 degrees North.  A whale sighting seemed to make the day complete, but there was to be more excitement.  Upon returning from a 75-minute hike to a lovely mountain lake, alas, we found the 1000-pound dinghy high and dry with the tide dropping rapidly.  As we began to contemplate the options (a long swim in 50 degree water, spending the night in the woods, calling for help on the vhf radio) a dinghy came around the corner from another cove and gave us a ride back to the mother ship.  The water will drop 23.5 feet before coming back again at 3 a.m. at which time we have an appointment with our new friends to give us a ride back to a happily floating dinghy.  That’s the plan; let’s see how it works out.

 

#5

 

Sunday, May 18, 2003 as planned, the middle of the night tide did raise all boats including our stranded dinghy.  But dinghy troubles were not over.  After watching a mink scamper on the beach (his coat may have been synthetic but it looked real), taking a dinghy tour of Codville Lagoon and waving goodbye to our new friends in Bald Eagle, the davit motor failed while retrieving the dinghy.  It was suspended a few feet out of the water bow up, stern forward such that progress by Safari threatened to swamp the craft.  After several hours of contemplating ways to raise or lower it we finally were able to turn it around and secure it to the side of Safari such that we were able to proceed slowly to Shearwater, 18  nautical miles away.  Once we were safely secured to a dock with reportedly the best boat maintenance capability in the 280 mile stretch of wilderness between Port Hardy and Prince Rupert, another new boat buddy, fisherman Fred from Shona Girl, and I dismantled the davit motor and gearbox, but couldn’t spot the gremlin.  Great dinner with new dock friends, Dick & MaryJoe aboard 44’ DeFever, Lady MJ, making their third trip to Alaska, this time via the Bahamas, the Great Lakes, the Mississippi River, the Panama Canal and up the West Coast.

 

Monday, May 19, 2003 thanks to sat phone and FedEx, a new stronger davit motor and gear assembly will hopefully be waiting for us in Ketchikan, so off we go again through pristine fjords with snow covered peaks and cascading waterfalls galore, destination: Windy Bay.  Logs have become an ever-increasing hazard sometimes requiring us to slowly weave our way through vast fields of monsters while listening for show-stopping thunks.  At Perceval Narrows a logjam moving along on the ebb appeared to block our passage, but we found a way around the end of the jam and made it through.  On the positive side, this is good training for the ice fields and icebergs to come.  Anchor for the night at Windy Bay all alone.  Surprisingly, we still get sat TV reception even though we are well outside the advertised reception footprint in a remote area with high mountains all around. 

 

Tuesday, May 20, 2003 became the best day so far as we planned to go to Bishop Bay Hot Springs but stopped at Khutze Inlet for lunch and never left.  The featured wildlife of the day was a grizzly grazing on the beach spotted by Gay while Cap’n Wyman was setting crab pots with Fred from Shona Girl.  Four pots captured 60 large Dungeness crabs in about two hours.  Only 24 got the royal treatment while the rest were set free.  We are anchored in a stunningly beautiful spot at the foot of a waterfall that cascades thousands of feet from snow capped peaks. 

 

#6

 

Wednesday, May 21, 2003 rain started last evening and continued non-stop as the weather forecast is for gale force winds coming ashore tomorrow but we are snug at anchor in Lowe Inlet off Grenville Channel.  Again, Safari is anchored at the foot of a waterfall with flow so great that the bow always points toward the falls and there is a wake continuously streaming from the stern.  The 12kw Northern Lights generator overheats and shuts down—probably from an impeller failure in the seawater pump.

 

Thursday, May 22, 2003 rain continues.  The gale is delayed but upgraded to a gale/storm.  It’s fairly calm now so Safari and Shona Girl press on to Prince Rupert and dock at the Prince Rupert Yacht Club.  After Wyman replaced a disintegrated impeller, the generator is back in business.

 

Friday, May 23, 2003 rain continues and the gale/storm is upgraded to a full storm with winds in Dixon Entrance (our destination) 45 to 55 knots and 12 to 15 foot seas.  We decide to double our dock lines and stay in Prince Rupert.  Commercial fishing boats return to port.

 

Saturday, May 24, 2003 another pleasant day in Prince Rupert.  A blustery day with leaden skies and little rain as the storm stalled and was slammed by the next weather system creating high winds and seas on our 85 mile route to Ketchikan.  Camaraderie builds as more Alaska bound Americans (four sailboats and seven powerboats) crowd into the harbor awaiting better weather to cross Dixon Entrance.  Wyman bought fishing gear and caught a flounder from Safari the instant the lure hit bottom.

 

Sunday, May 25, 2003 a small cruise ship, the first vessel to cross Dixon Entrance in several days, arrives from Ketchikan and reports 55-knot winds.  A crewman said that it was like a carnival ride.  Many of the guests don’t want to get out of bed to clear customs.  The forecast improves to gale force winds and 10-foot seas.  Apparently this is as good as it is going to get so talk on the dock is all about when to cross.  At noon we are part of a mini-exodus of four power boats who decide to go part way to anchor at Brundige Inlet on Dundas Island so that we can make an early morning crossing to Ketchikan the next day when winds are due to ease before strengthening again in the afternoon.  The 35-mile passage to Dundas was a piece of cake with only 22 knots of wind and four to six foot waves.  We had time to catch enough yellow and black rockfish for dinner.

 

#7

 

Monday, May 26, 2003 hello Alaska.  Beautiful sunny, warm day in Ketchikan.  We counted 48 bald eagles on a rocky islet as we entered the USA.  Very symbolic. 

 

Tuesday, May 27, 2003 installed new davit motor in the rain in Ketchikan.

 

Wednesday, May 28, 2003 more rain.  Installed a new DVD/video player.  All systems now working.

 

Thursday, May 29, 2003 a beautiful day.  Enroute to Misty Fjord both Safari and a humpback whale were surprised when the whale surfaced less than a boat length away on a collision course.  He took one look and with a slap of his tail dove under never to be seen again.  Caught five large rockfish and three crabs, enough for lunch and dinner for three days.  Anchored all alone at Carp Island.  The next morning the crab pot was gone, probably carried into deeper water by the current, or possibly carried away by giant crabs.

 

Friday, May 30, 2003 our best day so far with beautiful weather, abundant wildlife and spectacular scenery.  Loons gave a wake-up call; harlequin ducks provided breakfast entertainment, while a family of tree swallows inspected Safari’s every nook and cranny looking for a nesting place. The harbor seals were curious; the sea otters shy.  Escorted by harbor porpoises Safari moved on to tour Rudyerd bay and then anchor all alone in the Punchbowl surrounded by 3,500 foot sheer granite cliffs and waterfalls in every direction.  It’s like being anchored in Yosemite Valley next to Half Dome and Yosemite Falls.  Today was Bear Day-four grizzly bears and one large, fat black bear.  I left two fish carcasses on shore for the bears but a bald eagle stole it first.  With bears patrolling the shoreline, we passed on the opportunity to hike to the mountain lake that feeds our waterfall. 

 

Saturday, May 31, 2003 anchored all alone at scenic Fitzgibbon Cove where three black bears grazed on the beaches.

 

Sunday, June 1, 2003 anchored at Smugglers Cove all alone again. Our boat buddies who congregated at Prince Rupert, B.C., waiting for a weather window to cross Dixon Entrance, have dispersed into Alaska’s vast wilderness.  Since we left Ketchikan three days ago we have only seen one other boat, a small adventure style cruise ship that cruised through Rudyerd Bay.  Otherwise, it seems that we have the entire 2.2 million acre Misty Fjord National Monument to ourselves.  No fishing boats, logging operations, fish farms or any indication of human activity, just deeply cut fjords and glacier-fed streams and waterfalls that careen off 3,000-foot sheer cliffs, plummeting directly into the icy sea.  In the past 150 miles there hasn’t been a time when we couldn’t look up and see at least one waterfall, often a dozen.  Today Misty Fjord is indeed misty as rain replenishes the waterfalls.

 

#8

 

Monday, June 2, 2003 we were visited by five Red Throated Loons, caught enough fish for the next several meals and then moved on to the dock at Meyers Chuck, a quaint settlement built on islets surrounding a deep water lagoon with a year-around population of five or six and a summer population of about 25.  On Mondays you call Shirley at 8503 to open the craft gallery; and then take the dinghy to the post office on an island across the lagoon (normally open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but Cassie, the postmistress, saw us coming and came down to open the post office in case we wanted to buy a stamp or mail a postcard).  Shortly after we tied up Adventuress, a Fleming 55 out of Friday Harbor came in.  Doug and Sandy, the owners, are good friends of our friends, the Wildens, and their guests, Barbara and Sheldon, are friends of the Kasanins in Belvedere.  A beautiful day.

 

To take advantage of the 30-foot tides in these parts most docks have a grid for bottom work.  To use the grid simply tie your boat at high tide to a series of pilings about six feet apart; when the tide goes out the boat gently settles onto a series of horizontal timbers attached to each of the pilings.  Once the boat is completely out of the water, you have about eight hours to paint the bottom or fix a prop or rudder before the next tide refloats the craft.

 

Now one month into this delightful adventure we have traveled 1,730 nautical miles (almost 2,000 statute miles), spent three nights at sea, anchored in 14 spectacular spots and docked 14 nights to provision, repair or wait for weather to improve.  The wildlife viewing has been good but meeting many special people along the way has given the trip an added dimension.

 

Tuesday, June 3, 2003 on another beautiful day we proceeded thirty miles to Frosty Bay (which wasn’t frosty) but decided that it wasn’t special enough to spend the night so we

continued on another 40 miles via the scenic route to Wrangell.  A friendly and playful pod of Dalls Dolphins escorted us from Seward Passage into Blake Channel taking time to ride our bow wake and pose for photos.  Wrangell, not a normal cruise ship or tourist stop, was a pleasant surprise.  With a harbor full of fishing boats, we rafted alongside Passerpartout, a Stevens 47 sailboat that we met in Shearwater, and then had dinner at Zaks with Peter from Pippin, a Catalina 30 sailboat that we met in Port Hardy.  Originally Russian, then British and finally American, Wrangell has ridden out the booms and busts of the fur trade, gold mining, logging and fishing to be a solid working town with very friendly folks.  To top it off, a native Alaskan Tlingit Indian and his life-long fishing buddy from North Carolina gave us a 25-pound king salmon so fresh that it was still wiggling as I cut it into steaks.

 

Wednesday, June 4, 2003 traversed 42 miles via Wrangell Narrows to Petersburg.  During the 25 miles of narrow winding passage we met only one boat, a huge ferry with a 50-foot beam.  Fortunately, we communicated in advance by VHF before we saw him come around a bend and found a wide spot to pull over while he passed.  Petersburg, the most prosperous town we have seen, is populated primarily by people of Norwegian decent and is sustained by a very successful commercial fishing fleet.

 

#9

 

Thursday, June 5, 2003 today we encountered our first icebergs!  As we began to pick up icebergs on the radar it occurred to me that the movie would have been really boring if Titanic had better radar.  Because of the heavy flow of ice from Le Conte Glacier we anchored all alone in Ideal Cove on Mitkof Island and took Cheetah, our fast dinghy, about seven miles across the south end of Frederick Sound to Le Conte Bay.  Even though it is the southern-most tidewater glacier in North America, cruising boats seldom visit Le Conte due to its remoteness, difficult entrance, and lack of large-scale charts or aids to navigation.  The area is not well charted so the guidebooks say that you are entirely on your own.  The problem is that the 3- to 5-knot current can put you between truck sized bergie bits on a direct collision course with temporarily grounded house-sized bergs.  So we left Safari in a safe spot, lunched amongst icebergs hundreds of feet across and several stories high and gathered a bucketful of 1,000-year-old ice.  As we arrived a small guide boat departed leaving us alone with some of the best examples of Mother Nature’s artwork.  The most striking thing about the icebergs is their intense neon blue color; their shapes appear to have been carved by an ice carver gone berserk. Melt from overhanging ledges was like heavy rain.  Unfortunately, heavy pack ice kept us from getting near the face of the glacier.  Although there may have been some slight risk involved, I am never afraid as long as I have the SFYC Yachtswoman of the Year by my side. 

 

Friday, June 6, 2003 Safari moved on to anchor at Ruth Island Cove in Thomas Bay where first mate and champion bear spotter quickly found two big beach-combing black bears.  Thomas Bay is shaped like a “T” about seven miles long and seven miles across the top with the entrance at the bottom and Baird Glacier at one end of the top and Patterson Glacier at the other end.  Both of these glaciers have retreated so that they are no longer tidewater glaciers that calve icebergs into the sea.  Since there was no ice flow we were able to explore the entire bay with the dinghy including a visit almost to the face of Baird Glacier.  Surprisingly, the water is not clear, but an opaque milky green apparently from the tons of powdered granite carried by the glacier as it grinds canyons from the mountaintops down to the sea.  The water temperature dropped from 55 degrees where we anchored to 39 degrees as we approached the glacier making the air noticeably cooler.  During our exploration we found two Canadian boats anchored in Scenery Cove that we had first met in Port Hardy so we invited them to our end of the bay later in the day for refreshments cooled with antique ice.  Caught 17 crabs including five big male keepers.

 

#10

 

Saturday, June 7, 2003 pressing ever northward Safari found refuge at anchor alone in Sandborn Canal, a place rarely visited by cruising boats due to it’s remoteness and lack of large-scale charts.  We came looking for moose, but found none, only one crab and three fish.  The place is dominated on one side by Washington Peak (4052 ft.), Lincoln Peak (4750 ft.) and Grant Peak (4500 ft.).  On the other side are four equally imposing but unnamed mountains.  Well, let it be known that they will no longer suffer the indignity of being nameless because from hereafter they will be known as Connor Peak (5150 ft.), Cooper Peak (4393 ft.), Charlie Peak (4156 ft.) and Brooks Peak (3873 ft.) named for our four grandsons.

 

Sunday, June 8, 2003 has to be the best day yet on a warm, sunny day anchored in Tracy Arm Cove with picture postcard views in every direction.  Tracy Arm is a stunningly beautiful fjord with 4,000 to 6,000 foot vertical granite walls, waterfalls too numerous to count and two glaciers at it’s head.  After meeting many large icebergs for the last 20 miles in Stephens Passage, an excursion boat departing Tracy Arm confirmed to us that there was a lot of ice in Tracy Arm.  So we left the Mother Ship in Tracy Arm Cove and took the faster, more maneuverable Cheetah on the 54 mile round trip to North Sawyer Glacier and South Sawyer Glacier.  A wise decision it was because for the entire trip we had to zigzag to find clearings through the icebergs, bergie bits and refrigerator sized chunks.  For the last mile or so we had to slow to idle to find a path.  As usual we were the only humans in this paradise wanting so badly to share it with everyone we know.  Mother and baby seals slipped off slabs of ice as we passed.  Eagles found the highest icebergs to survey the majestic scene.  Back at Safari, we watch the parade of icebergs just outside of the cove heading out to sea.  They will stay there unless the wind shifts to the south during the flood tide in which case we will have lots of company.

 

Monday, June 9, 2003 today is even better as we lie at anchor on a warm and cloudless day in Fords Terror, a magnificent area off Endicott Arm.  The name alone keeps most people from coming here, so I propose that the name be changed to Chevy’s Delight or Plymouth Rock or anything less intimidating.  Fords Terror was reportedly named in 1889 for a crewmember of the Patterson who entered the narrows, got caught inside, and spent a terrifying time until the tide reversed.  The rapids at the entrance forms a reversing waterfall on flood and ebb tides and is only 1.5 feet deep at low water, so safe passage can only be made at high water slack.  The entrance and shoals outside the entrance are uncharted except for a hand drawn rough sketch in Don Douglass’ guidebook.  We weaved our way between icebergs from Dawes Glacier at the head of Endicott Arm and arrived an hour before high slack water.  Refrigerator to Volkswagen sized chunks of ice were floating through the rapids on the flood tide while larger icebergs lined up to pass.  Even though it was still flooding at over two knots we found our place in the queue moving ahead of a large berg that might become grounded and block the entrance.  We passed without incident with about five feet of water under the keel.  Once inside the only place shallow enough to anchor is on a narrow shelf at the foot of a cascading waterfall at the head of the canyon about five miles from the entrance.  We dropped the hook in 95 feet of water and with only 200 feet of chain out our stern is swinging in 40 feet of water about half a boat length from the drying sand and gravel.  It’s a pity that we are the only boat here on this warm cloudless day where the surroundings are spectacular—high granite mountains with snow bowls and hanging glaciers, vertical cliffs and hundreds of waterfalls.  It’s as if Yosemite Valley were filled with water and we are anchored at the foot of Yosemite Falls, except there are a dozen half domes here, more waterfalls and no other people.  If Yosemite were a 10, this is a 15.

 

#11

 

Tuesday, June 10, 2003, after spending 25 hours all alone captured and captivated by Fords Terror, we departed on the rising tide, picked our way through the bergs and glided on a mirror-like sea 66 miles to Juneau.  As we approached Juneau people were swimming at the beach and boaters were shirtless or wearing swimsuits.  During the past 14 days we have had only one day of rain and one cloudy day.  Otherwise, it has been bright and sunny with increasing temperatures.  Docked at the cruise ship dock between the Coral Princess and the Norwegian Sun. 

 

Wednesday, June 11, 2003, the captain spent the day in the engine room changing oil and doing other periodic maintenance necessary to keep the machinery functioning smoothly in remote areas.  Meanwhile, the first mate did periodic maintenance on hair, toes and fingers and restocked the larder.  Dined ashore with Canadian friends from Branta II.  It appears that there are about 10 boats cruising Alaska so far this year and we have met all of them.  Most are from Washington or British Columbia--no other California boats so far--although we know that Bob and Jane Van Blaricom are on the way.

 

Thursday, June 12, 2003, in Juneau Viviane and Martin Gordon joined the happy Safari crew.  During the night Lady Lola, 200 feet, crew of 16, tied up across the dock and provided much entertainment and speculation.

 

Friday, June 13, 2003, a light drizzle as we stirred around seven a.m. to the aroma of coffee and sight of Lady Lola still moored alongside--unfortunately no sightings of the Lady herself. Breakfast began the special celebrations of Gay and Wyman’s 40th anniversary –1963/2003 - with many best wishes and congratulations.  At 8:30 a.m. we eased into Lynn Canal and computerized our way towards Skagway with anchorage overnight at Rescue Harbor where gathering and hunting instincts exploded into crab pots and bottom fishing. Weather was generally fair with blue sky gaining ground in the afternoon and seas flat. After a wonderful anniversary dinner of white salmon the crab pots are raised to reveal four large keepers and later a small flounder caught by Viviane Gordon who was clearly more surprised than the fish, all skillfully dressed by Wyman as we looked the other way. Other sightings included, by Wyman: two wild dogs better known in Alaska as black tail deer, by Gay: whales and dolphins racing the waves and by Martin and Viviane: several bears also known here as large boulders on the beach. I understand that cleaning out the cooked crabs is now complete so I can conclude the Log, in closing it has been an outstanding day and a real pleasure to share with Gay and Wyman this very special moment. Mg

 

 Saturday, June 14, 2003, early activity in Rescue Harbor as a narrow anchor shelf and low tide around 5 a.m. had Gay alert and drawing Safari up on the anchor chain to keep us clear of the mud now exposed by the 24 ft drop to low water.  Bacon and eggs over easy and a cup of coffee in preparation for more hunting and gathering of the overnight crab pots produced, in the end, outstanding crab cakes for all at dinner.  Pre-departure viewing included yet another “wild dog,” black oystercatchers and a bald eagle scavenging for low tide opportunities.  Our travel to Haines provided an extraordinary one-hour stop to watch three pairs of humpbacks feeding along with Dall’s porpoises cruising the shoreline. Weather forecast of 60% rain and 15-knot winds produced scattered clouds with mainly sunshine, little wind, no rain and flat seas.  In the afternoon we explored Haines, population 2000, a hard working fishing town with friendly people and a decommissioned 1904 army post surrounded by snow covered mountains.  Sunset at 11.00 p.m. and to bed shortly thereafter. Mg

 

Sunday, June 15, 2003, seven in the morning brought fruit and granola with coffee under an overcast sky, low tide and building winds as we slipped out of a narrow harbor channel and over to check on our Humpbacks from yesterday. Following a brief sighting of two of our friends Wyman gently pushed NAV which promptly delivered an easy cruise down the Taiya Inlet to Skagway a historic town nestled between majestic mist covered mountains.  An afternoon walk around town inspired imaginations of the gold rush and a Skagway frontier town you see in western movies that had make shift buildings with false fronts, gambling halls, saloons, dance halls and bandits. The most notorious outlaw was Jefferson ‘Soapy’ Smith. His gang of bandits were experienced con men and thieves, many of whom were veterans from other gold rushes. Skagway was an outlaw’s haven and ‘Soapy’s’ gang conned, cheated and stole from stampeders at will.  A gunfight eventually followed leaving Soapy dead.  Mg

 

#12

 

Monday, June 16, 2003, Safari crew and guests relived the Klondike Gold Rush by riding the narrow gauge White Pass & Yukon Route railroad from Skagway to White Pass at the international border.  Built in 1898 during the gold rush, it climbs nearly 3,000 feet in just 20 miles and provides a “breathtaking panorama of mountains, glaciers, gorges, waterfalls, tunnels, trestles and historic sites from the comfort of vintage parlor cars.”  Guests departed via Wings of Alaska.

 

Tuesday, June 17, 2003, having reached the northernmost point of the trip (60 degrees North, 135 degrees West) Safari retreated down the Lynn Canal past whales at Haines with peaks shrouded by low hanging clouds and light rain enroute to anchor alone at Crab Cove in Funter Bay.  After harvesting a dozen large male crabs (I wonder why they call it Crab Cove?) the First Mate invoked a crabbing moratorium until consumption catches up with production while the Captain issued a call for more crab recipes to increase consumption and contemplated a new career as a crabber.

 

Wednesday, June 18, 2003, on the way to anchor at Neka Bay Safari stopped to give right-of-way to a large humpback whale at the intersection of Chatham Strait, Lynn Canal and Icy Strait.  Harbor porpoises on a mission raced by without a glance as two bald eagles fought in mid-air.

 

Thursday, June 19, 2003, docked in Hoonah, the largest Tlingit community in South East Alaska.  Bald eagles are as thick around the harbor as seagulls normally are.  The eagles have chased all of the seagulls away; only crows and ravens can hold their own.  The town is not much to look at but the people are friendly and it has a pretty good grocery store, hardware store and marine store.

 

Friday, June 20, 2003, the Hoonah assistant harbor mistress brought a bouquet of fresh flowers from her garden.

 

Saturday, June 21, 2003, encountered many humpback whales enroute to Glacier Bay where we anchored at Bartlett Cove.  After checking in with the Glacier Bay National Park Service we were contacted by Hope Rieden (Steve and Evon Riedon’s daughter) who works at the park.  Hope and her boyfriend, Steve (who also works at the park), graciously gave us a comprehensive tour of the nearby village of Gustavus, provided taxi service for our next guests, Phil and Sharon Gardner, and filled us with local knowledge.  This magnificent area with high, permanently snow-clad peaks and over 20 large and many smaller glaciers (12 of which reach the sea) is included in the 4,400 square miles of Glacier Bay National Monument.  It is 45 miles north to the head of Muir Inlet and 54 miles northwest to the head of Tarr or John Hopkins Inlets.  The wedge-shaped peak of Mount Fairweather soars to 15,300 feet.  Regulations aimed at minimizing the disturbance of humpback whales which feed in Glacier Bay permit no more than 25 private vessels, two cruise ships and 3 tour boats in the Bay at any one time.  At our briefing we learned that including Safari there are only 12 private vessels here now.

 

Sunday, June 22, 2003, now that the crab moratorium has been lifted we awakened early to check the crab pots (yes we will have fresh dungeness crabs for dinner) and fished for halibut but had no luck.  Upon lifting anchor and heading into Glacier Bay we saw many active whales and met sea otters feasting on clams right off our bow that loved frolicking in our stern wake.  Then we spotted Puffins for the first time with their bright yellow bill and interesting coloring as well as a noisy rookery of Steller sea lions.  At anchor in beautiful North Sandy Cove Wyman and Phil caught a Pacific Cod suitable for frying and a red fish suitable for crab pot bait.  Meanwhile chef Gay prepared fantastic crab cakes for dinner.  During cocktails topside while awaiting the arrival of the fishermen, Sharon and Gay watched two brown bears on two different beaches when Sharon saw something strange in the water that turned out to be a moose with a full set of horns swimming head-high across our channel.  What a surprise!  On this warm sunny day we were able to enjoy Alaska in shorts and a tee shirt.  This is a truly amazing part of our country.  SG

 

#13

 

Monday, June 23, 2003, the hunters retrieved the crab pots while the gatherers cooked breakfast. When Phil pulled up the crab pot he found that he had caught his first fish without a pole.  A five-pound Sculpin found its way into the crab pot and became crab bait.  It was a real thrill to see our first Orca killer whale. We named him Knobby because the tip of his huge dorsal fin was folded over. We poked our nose into Tidal Inlet before anchoring in Blue Mouse Cove where Steve Wilson at Wilson Air agreed to land his pontoon plane next to Safari to give us a tour of Glacier Bay.  From the plane we saw a large male Orca, a young male, a female and her baby as well as 15 mountain goats on a steep mountainside. The extensive glaciers remind us of how small and insignificant we are on this planet.  We are really at the mercy of our climate and its changes.   PLG

 

Tuesday, June 24, 2003, after a good night’s sleep fishermen Wyman and Phil caught a large Pacific cod that became dinner.  During a great breakfast of hot cranberry muffins and melon Wyman suddenly jumped from his seat, grabbed his fishnet and rescued his new fishing pole that was pulled overboard by a large fish who then escaped.  We hoisted the anchor and headed north, dodging icebergs and smaller pieces of ice and huge cruise ships in Tarr Inlet as we approached Margerie Glacier.  This is a very tall glacier with lots of calving and beautiful blue hues.  Adjacent is the very large, dark Grand Pacific Glacier on the Canadian border that looks like a mountain levee.  As the sun started to appear action took place in front of Lamplugh Glacier when Captain Wyman asked that “Cheetah” be launched for a close-up photo shoot of this beautiful glacier.  All went well and we towed “Cheetah” to our night’s anchorage at the base of Reid Glacier.  At low tide a small beach at the snout of the glacier caught the calving ice and provided a place for us to beach the dinghy so that we could climb on the glacier to examine it up close and personal.  We also explored an abandoned gold mine where a bear had spent the previous night and left a large deposit.  This is truly an amazing area with many challenges and changing weather patterns, all making for a wonderful, fun adventure.  SG

 

Wednesday, June 25, 2003, during a windy night the tide lifted ice from the beach at the base of the Reid Glacier and carried it into the anchorage requiring the First Mate to fend off chunks that occasionally bumped into and scraped alongside Safari.  On a rainy day we moved on to anchor alone in beautiful Shag Cove in Geikie Inlet (Glacier Bay).

 

Thursday, June 26, 2003, during a dinghy ride a large humpback whale shot straight up out of the water about 75 feet in front of us, then porpoised, slapped his tail and went under.  Just as I said, “Let’s watch the fish finder to make sure that he’s not under us,” there he was, directly below us on the fish finder filling the whole screen about 100 feet down in 340 feet of water!  He followed for a while as we picked up speed and headed toward a nearby island.  The screen cleared as we approached shallow water and we never saw him again.  Later we anchored in Bartlett Cove (Glacier Bay) and took a hike to search for a mother and baby moose reported to be in the area.  No moose, but we did see a fat porcupine waddling along smelling the flowers.  Trapped five crabs.

 

Friday, June 27, 2003, for a final bit of excitement Phil landed a three and a half foot shark into the cockpit before Hope Rieden kindly picked up Phil and Sharon at the Bartlett Cove dock for their flight from Gustavus.  Then, as Gay and Wyman departed Glacier Bay the humpbacks gave Safari a grand finale extravaganza!  Some 20 to 25 of the giant leviathans along with hundreds of artic terns surrounded Safari in a feeding frenzy, spouting, snorting, jumping, tail slapping and otherwise doing what whales do.  At one point as we slowly tried to move out of the group we had to slam the gears into reverse to avoid a whale that surfaced less than half a boat length ahead. 

 

#14

 

Friday, June 27, 2003, (continued) by early afternoon Safari was rafted to a fishing boat in the small quaint village of Elfin Cove that lies in a beautiful setting on the south side of Cross Sound.  Elfin Cove clusters around the edge of a harbor where the post office, general store, laundry and most of the houses are connected by a boardwalk along the steep, rocky edges of the cove.  In winter, the 30 or so hardy permanent residents have little contact with the outside world; but now, when we look across to Brady Glacier beneath the tall peaks of Glacier Bay, the lure that takes people north and draws some to stay seems all too clear.

 

Saturday, June 28, 2003, a rainy day in Pelican, a colorful, remote fishing community with about 100 residents that like Elfin Cove has no cars or streets but instead has a boardwalk around the harbor connecting all of the homes, post office, general store, fish processing plant, school (3 graduates this year), Brown Bar and the world famous Rose’s Bar and Grill.  Thirty years ago Rose (half Tlingit, half Irish) traded her fishing boat for the bar and became the community’s leading citizen while raising 11children, 39 grandchildren and 23 great-grandchildren.  Meanwhile, four of her best girlfriends took her four husbands off of her hands so that now at the age of 70 she has a 42-year-old boyfriend/bartender who meets her needs.  She entertained us for several hours with colorful stories after we spent most of the day chatting with the librarian, two guys carving totem poles, the lady shift supervisor at the fish plant who gave us a tour, various fishermen, 75 year-old Sky who was packing for a move to Kawai, seasonal workers, students in summer jobs, kids watching eagles dive for fish scraps, other kids picking out videos at the library.  Altogether a very satisfying day with happy, friendly, engaging people who have chosen to live in a unique and challenging place.

 

Sunday, June 29, 2003, after five rainy/cloudy days a dense morning fog burned off to reveal a brilliant warm sunny day for travel out of Lisianski Strait into the Gulf of Alaska down the outside coast to anchor in Kimshan Cove.  Featured wildlife: a black tailed deer mother with two babies and sea otters sleeping while floating on their backs with babies on their chests. 

 

Monday, June 30, 2003, the path from Kimshan Cove to the coast passed many tiny islets and winding passages where sea otters hiding amongst the kelp found us a curiosity.  After almost two months in mostly protected waters the sight of waves breaking on rocks and the roll of the sea felt good as we re-entered the Pacific Ocean.  Then, as the wind at our back built to over 20 knots the sea became frisky with 6 to 8 foot waves just right for Safari surfing.  With the commercial salmon fishing season due to open on July 1we met a parade of fishing boats heading out to be in their favorite spot at the stroke of midnight tomorrow night.  In a few hours the 50-mile trip to Sitka put us back into civilization, with cell phone coverage, two local TV channels, shopping malls and a large, modern harbor with space for us left by the departing fishing boats.  Great sunset.

 

Tuesday, July 1, 2003, explored Sitka, population 8800, considered Alaska’s most beautiful seaside town with the distinction of having been settled for thousands of years and until 1849 the largest city on the west coast of North America.  Ancestral home of the Tlingit Indians, captured by the Russians, sold to the Americans – Sitka carries the legacy of each.  Until over-hunting diminished the number of sea otters, the Russian-American Company was the most profitable fur trader in the world.  Then in 1867, the Russians lost interest and sold Alaska to the U.S. for $7.2 million. 

 

Wednesday, July 2, 2003, visited historic Castle Hill, site of: the first Tlingit settlement, Russian governor’s mansion, signing of the transfer of Alaska to the U.S. and raising of the first U.S Flag with 49 stars.

 

#15

 

Thursday, July 3, 2003, toured museums and other cultural sites in Sitka once known as “Paris of the West.”  Guests Carol and Jerry Gregoire, long-time friends from Wilton, CT who now reside in Tonto Verde, AZ, arrived.

 

Friday, July 4, 2003, the day broke dank and wet. Left port after breakfast and proceeded up Neva Straight to Beehive Cove about 9 miles.  Following lunch, first mate was dispatched to a nearby low tide – exposed beach for clams. Captain and rest of crew set crab pots and teased the fishes. Clouds broke, sun came out and a beautiful afternoon set in. Box score:  one bucket of steamer clams, one lingcod, assorted rockfish and one keeper crab. Dinner: all of the above. A little ‘Spite and Malice” following dinner and a good night in a snug cove.  JG

 

Saturday, July 5, 2003, Morning arrived cloudy but dry. From Beehive Cove sailed northwest up Neva Straight into Salisbury Sound where a humpback whale was spotted.  Then he spotted us, came to within 25 feet and stuck his head out of the water to look us in the eye.  He gave us a wink and circled the boat before swimming away.  Proceeded to the end of Fish Bay. Anchored, set crab pots and settled in for lunch. Teased fish for a while – no luck. No keepers in the pots. Pulled anchor and sailed to Sukoi Inlet. Enroute spotted one grizzly, another humpback and more eagles than seagulls. Anchored for the night at Sukoi Inlet. Finished off the day with “Spite and Malice” and a goodnight kiss from a curious sea otter.  Sailed 35 miles today.  JG

 

Sunday, July 6, 2003, grey morning – promise of rain. Pulled anchor after a great bagel & smoked salmon breakfast and headed south back down Neva Straight, through Olga Straight into Sitka Sound. Found an anchorage for SAFARI at Promisila Bay. Following a crab Louis lunch, dropped the crab pots and headed into De Groff Bay to check out the wildlife. On the way back saw a humpback.  Back on SAFARI entered into more fish teasing and hit the jackpot! Seven nice rockfish! Ate ‘em half an hour later along with some wonderful crab cakes courtesy of the first mate. Beautiful evening, sun on the snowcapped mountains. Only a few sprinkles today and a promise of good weather tomorrow. Logged 22 miles plus 14 in Cheetah.  JG

 

Monday, July 7, 2003, sightseeing in shorts in Sitka.  Visited the raptor rehabilitation center.

 

Tuesday, July 8, 2003, bid Carol and Jerry a fond farewell and departed Sitka via Olga Strait, Neva Strait and Peril Strait to Chatham Strait where we anchored in Takatz Bay at the foot of a waterfall after checking out and rejecting Ell Cove because three boats were already anchored there.  In the process we covered 82 nautical miles and had to stop or change course six times to avoid whales including one who was sleeping on the surface directly in our path.  Fortunately, the master bear and whale spotter saw him in time to avoid giving him a bad dream 

 

#16

 

Wednesday, July 9, 2003, on a warm cloudless day we traversed from Chatham Strait through Stephens Passage to Frederick Sound ending in Petersburg, 81 nautical miles.  This was marine mammal day: too many whales to count, a porpoise escort, barking seals.  Petersburg, our favorite town in all of Alaska, was especially friendly on a warm sunny day.

 

Thursday, July 10, 2003, when we awakened to a brilliantly sunny day we decided to take an early morning helicopter ride over LeConte, Patterson and Baird Glaciers and the vast mile-thick ice field that feeds them.  We even landed on a glacier, looked down into seemingly bottomless cracks and holes with the sound of water gushing below and drank from pools of pure melted glacier water.  At the top we skimmed by Devil’s Thumb, a 9,600-foot spike so steep that it has only been climbed 13 times and has claimed even more lives.  Immediately adjacent is Witches Cauldron that drops away to sea level with hanging glaciers all around the edges.  The pilot claimed that in 14 years he has seen only two other days with such clear skies and unlimited visibility.  We still had time to cover 61 miles down Wrangell Narrows across Sumner Strait and into Zimovia Strait to anchor alone in a pretty cove called Thom’s Place with water warm enough for a swim—and we got some crabs and had a pretty sunset and moonrise to boot.  Our best day yet.

 

Friday, July 11, 2003, on another warm sunny day we anchored Safari at Anan Bay on a narrow shelf and tied the stern to a tree, then anchored Cheetah with a line to shore (no chance of being stranded by a falling tide this time) so that we could hike half-a-mile up a trail alongside a stream where it seemed there were more pink salmon going upstream to spawn than water going downstream.  They had sex on their minds, but some hungry bears were doing everything they could stop the fun.  Meanwhile, the bald eagles enjoyed the carnage by cleaning up after the bears who thought nothing of taking one bite out of the middle of ten pound salmon and then going for another one like a kid wanting to sample each chocolate in the box.  A rather inept brown bear had positioned himself in the middle of the stream and alternated between sticking his head underwater to try to spot his next victim and leaping out of the water to try to catch a whole armload full.  Had the odds not been stacked so overwhelmingly in his favor he would have starved.  With only a million or so fish available he didn’t want competition from a mother and her young brown bear who kept their distance from all of the commotion but got plenty.  Meanwhile, two baby black bear cubs climbed a tree behind us and had to be rescued by mom before she could get back to the main task.  All the while three highly skilled big black males (who were clearly intimidated by the grizzlies) repeatedly climbed down the steep bank across the stream to quickly dip out a fish that they carried back up the rocks to devour.  Out of necessity the black bears were better fishermen and less wasteful than the comical brown bears.  Since I haven’t caught a salmon yet and the bears made it look so easy I decided to try my luck in the lagoon at the bottom of the stream.  Not only were the salmon not interested in my lure (really, I was hoping to just snag one with a triple hook) but when I stepped out of the dinghy to free the hook caught on the bottom a slippery rock caused me to take a dunking, new digital camera in its’ belt holster and all.  Did you ever see a bear laugh out loud?  By the time we got underway again a 20-knot breeze kicked Clarence Strait into a nasty chop before we got to Meyer’s Chuck for the night.  Our best day yet—what short memories we have.

 

Saturday, July 12, 2003, if you need a movie set of an outback Alaskan settlement including the ruggedly eccentric characters Meyer’s Chuck is here waiting for you.  But the safari must keep moving so it’s back to Ketchikan for now.

 

#17

 

Sunday, July 12, 2003, Safari traversed the 83 nm passage from Ketchikan to Prince Rupert, B.C. via the often cantankerous Dixon Entrance and Chatham Sound without incident.

 

Toward the end of June you could feel the excitement and good cheer in the air as the July 1st opening of the commercial salmon season neared.  On July 2nd and 3rd the radio chatter foretold of a good catch in progress, but by July 5th when the boats had to offload their catch and take on a new load of ice the fresh market was flooded with a record catch and the price dropped from $1.35 per pound to 65 cents at the canneries.  The talk turned morose with good catches of 800 to 1,000 pounds per day barely covering fuel costs.  Such is the life of commercial fishing in Alaska.  While some fishermen are going to sit out this season or switch to halibut, few will quit because fishing is a way of life here.  At the same time the charter boat captains are all smiles as they return to port each day loaded with king salmon or halibut and happy clients.  The trawlers can’t switch to the charter business because the investment in boats and equipment is different and more importantly the personality type is different.

 

Monday, July 14, 2003, back in the Land of Logs after a full moon, collision avoidance became the name of the game as hundreds of fishing boats with nets blanketed an area with strong currents, rocks, shoals and drifting logs and trees.  There were so many radar targets the radar looked like it had a bad case of measles.  So we decided to avoid the beaten path and head for the wild outer passage that is infrequently visited and still natural.  Anchored alone in Patterson Inlet, another beautiful remote spot with waterfalls where we caught eight fish and one crab.

 

Tuesday, July 15, 2003, anchored at Bishop Bay Hot Springs and went ashore to the natural hot springs.

 

Wednesday, July 16, 2003, Crunch!  I took my eyes off the water ahead for no more than five seconds, looked up and saw a medium sized log dead ahead.  Instinctively, I pulled the throttle back, shifted to neutral, switched off the autopilot, turned the wheel hard to starboard and took a glancing blow.  Without saying a word we both held our breath, looked back to listen for a second collision with the props.  Hearing none, we both looked at the bilge pump lights.  Seeing none, we took a breath.  Damage assessment: negative.

Anchored at Bottleneck Inlet off Finlayson Channel, a typically pretty, peaceful little place with the sound of unseen waterfalls.  One crab.  Dreamed about logs.

 

Thursday, July 17, 2003, down Finlayson Channel through Jackson Pass and Jackson Narrows out Mathieson Channel through Perceval Narrows across Milbanke Sound into Seaforth Channel past Bella Bella across Lama Passage into Fancy Cove for lunch, on down Fitz Hugh Sound out Hakai Passage to anchor at idyllic Goldstream Harbor, 82 nm in all.  Caught a 24” pink salmon (about 8-10 pounds) that went from water to dinner in less than an hour.  While fishing a bald eagle plucked a fish out of the water no more than twenty feet from the dinghy. 

 

Friday, July 18, 2003, crossed Queen Charlotte Sound to arrive back in Port Hardy a day earlier than planned in order to beat gale force winds forecast for tomorrow.  We covered the 712 nautical miles from Sitka to Port Hardy in only eleven days thereby leaving a few stones unturned in Alaska.  Not many, but a few, giving us a reason to return.

 

#18

 

Saturday, July 19, 2003, FILOMI Day parade honoring Port Hardy’s three primary industries (fishing, logging, mining).

 

Sunday, July 20, 2003, FILOMI fireworks.

 

Monday, July 21, 2003, fishing skills have been greatly refined such that the captain caught his limit (4) of pink salmon.  Unfortunately, salmon production has exceeded consumption to the point that a salmon fishing moratorium has now been imposed by the first mate.

 

Tuesday, July 22, 2003, the McCubbins arrived from Naperville, IL, including our daughter, Lisa; our son-in-law, Brent; and grandsons, Connor and Cooper. 

Connor and Cooper felt like VIPs riding in the stretch limousine from the airport to Port Hardy.  Soon after the luggage was stowed, Safari left for a three-hour journey to Telegraph Cove. 

 

As we docked, a salty old Canadian sailor told us about the Whale Museum at the end of the dock in this tiny little cove.  There were skeletons of an orca, sea lions, dolphins and other sea mammals.  The curators were in the process of putting together a 60-foot Fin whale that had been killed (accidentally) by a cruise ship several years ago and the size of its’ bones were impressive.  This tiny museum had a wealth of information about the whales we might see over the next few days.

                                         

Wednesday, July 23, 2003, we set out early in the morning to beat the projected gale force winds.  Within twenty minutes, we spotted a pod of about six Orcas (killer whales).  From what he learned at the museum, Connor was able to tell us there were two females, one male and several babies.  The whales were all within inches of each other and appeared to be giving us a water ballet show as they rose gently out of the water so we could see their dorsal fins, then dove under the water, rising up again within a few seconds in small loop.  We assumed they were eating the smaller fish that were swimming against them with the current. 

 

Then suddenly, we saw another pod and another, swimming together in the same circular loop motion.  At one point three different pods –one of which had about twelve whales swimming tightly together - surrounded us and we estimate there were about 30 to 40 whales around us.  They didn’t seem to notice that we were there until two whales started swimming directly toward our boat!  They were moving along at great speed, then suddenly disappeared underneath the boat and came up on the other side.  (Lisa captured it on video in case you don’t believe us!)  At that point we had been idling for about half an hour – the maximum you’re supposed to watch whales – and decided it was time to move towards our destination.  All in all, we saw at least 60 Orcas – a truly amazing sight. 

 

We cruised for about four and a half more hours to our anchorage at Forward Harbor where we spent the night.  It was a popular anchorage because of the gale force winds in other areas and, with twenty other boats around us, Gay and Wy said this was as many boats as they’d seen in months.  LM

 

Thursday, July 24, 2003, Big Bay

 

We were awakened at 7:00 am to the sounds of the anchor being pulled up by Gay.  We had to leave early to time the series of cross current rapids to get to our destination of Big Bay.  We heard that a couple of years ago a 65-foot yacht was knocked over by the hidden whirlpools beneath the surface and was sucked in stern first, obviously destroying the boat and killing the crew.  As we passed by the Nordstrom family’s Dent Island resort, Lisa went outside on the forward deck to take some pictures.  Suddenly, we hit one of the swirling rapids – remember this is a 54-foot, 60,000 pound boat - and the force of the water turned the boat 90 degrees, without warning, tossing it like a plastic toy.  Lisa slid across the front of the boat from the turbulent jolt, but was held on board as she grabbed the railing.  Above on the fly bridge, Connor and Cooper were tossed off their seats onto the floor, and down below Gay heard the crashes of unsecured items falling off shelves.  Fortunately, our fearless captain remained calm and guided Safari safely through the rest of the rapids without another massive tumble, but we all breathed a sigh of relief when we made it through the passage.

 

At Big Bay, the boys were able to fish off the dock and we were able to hike through the woods.  Later in the afternoon, Wyman, Brent and the boys went out for a fishing trip in the dinghy.  Connor caught the first fish – a Whitespotted Greenling about 18 inches long.  Then Cooper caught a foot long Kelp Greenling and proudly proclaimed that the hook had gone through its eye first, then poked out from its mouth. Just as they were reeling in the lines to head home, Brent realized he had a huge fish on the end of his hook and reeled in a three foot Lingcod! Simultaneously, Wyman reeled in a twelve inch Red Snapper. Needless to say, we had delicious fresh fish for dinner.

 

Bitten by the fishing bug, Connor and Cooper spent the rest of the evening, nearly till dark, fishing off the dock for small herring to use as bait for future fishing excursions.  ---LM

 

Friday, July 25, 2003,

 

Today, we journeyed to Walsh Cove in Waddington Channel and arrived at low tide.  We could see the masses of oysters and mussels waiting to be plucked from the rocks on the tiny island in our cove, so we quickly anchored and set out in the dinghy to collect our dinner.   Within fifteen or twenty minutes, we easily filled a five-gallon bucket with 48 oysters and several hundred mussels– more than enough to feed the six of us.

 

With the sun beating down and the water temperature at a balmy 68 degrees F., we decided it was time to take our first swim.  Connor, Cooper and Brent took the plunge into the 50-foot deep water from the top of the boat, trying to outdo each other with cannonballs and dives.  Afterward, the boys had a great time driving the super-fast dinghy through the calm, empty waters of the channel.  LM

 

Saturday, July 26, 2003,

 

We moved from our great spot to an even better anchorage called Prideaux Haven.  There was a long rope attached to an overhanging tree where people were swinging from the rocks and jumping into the deep water below.  Connor decided not to risk hurting his recovering broken arm, but Cooper and Brent eagerly joined the small crowd.  Brent impressed all the onlookers by swinging out into the water and flipping smoothly into a headfirst dive.  From then on, he was dubbed “Circus Boy.”

 

There was also a beautiful swimming area in a small cove where we all went in for a refreshing swim after which the boys entertained other boats anchored nearby by jumping off the top of the boat again. LM

 

Sunday, July 27, 2003, moved to April Point Resort & Marina where we docked next to the 160’6” Floridian recently purchased by Wayne (I didn’t catch his last name) who also owns the Miami Dolphins.  Last year we saw the same boat when it was named Attessa and was owned by Dennis Washington, an Idaho industrialist.  The boys were impressed by the helicopter that took off from the upper deck and then came back to get someone’s sunglasses.  The helicopter is brand new and hasn’t been painted to match the boat yet.  To keep guests from getting bored the boat has an indoor movie theater and an outdoor movie theater with a screen that comes down from the radar arch.

 

Happy Birthday, Nana!

 

Monday, July 28, 2003, the crew of Safari and the crew of the Floridian spent much of the day cleaning the interior and exterior of their respective boats.  Floridian owner and guests arrived by turbo jet seaplane (Beaver?) painted to match.  They pulled out of the harbor after a quick boat tour and refreshments just as the April Point dock crew began to measure space for a 330’ yacht hoping to dock here.  Their request was ultimately denied.  It seems that you can have a boat that is too big.

 

Tuesday, July 29, 2003, haircuts and shopping in Campbell River.

 

Wednesday, July 30, 2003, at anchor at Rebecca Spit on Quadra Island.  Caught red crabs.

 

#19 Desolation Sound

 

Thursday, July 31, 2003, in the glow of a magenta sunset a family of Red-breasted Mergansers with 15 youngsters in a perfect line with mom and pop at front and rear completed a circle tour of Safari’s anchorage in Quartz Bay on Cortes Island in Desolation Sound.  Earlier what appeared to be a whale’s tail thrashing near shore turned out to be a bald eagle that caught a fish too big carry.  With his talons locked onto the fish the eagle used his wings to awkwardly breaststroke to shore where he took a long rest before beginning his evening meal.  Quartz Bay is unusually pretty but off the beaten path so we have the company of just one other boat.  When we took a dinghy tour an old gentleman who was painting the bottom of his boat grounded at low tide motioned us over to the dock, invited us to tie up and suggested that we stretch our legs by taking a walk around his property that surrounds the bay.  Around his kitchen table we got to know Ray Sharpe and learned the highlights of his 78 years.  Later he left by boat to pick up his wife, Joy, at Heriot Bay.

 

Friday, August 1, 2003, this place, Quartz Bay, is so pretty and Ray and Joy Sharpe are so hospitable that we stayed another day and night.  After several hours with Ray and Joy first at their place, then on Safari and finally back at the rental house one of their sons built and used to live in we know them well enough to call them friends. 

 

Saturday, August 2, 2003, after cruising by to say goodbye to the Sharpes we anchored at the head of Teakerne Arm and hiked in for a long swim in beautiful Cassel Lake that feeds the waterfall.  Even though a common loon seemed content to share his swimming hole the resident raven gave us good scolding.

 

Sunday, August 3, 2003, anchored at popular Squirrel Cove, no squirrels sighted but two families of Canada Geese cruised by to admire the boat and check out the our name and port of call.  If they were merely begging they didn’t complain but just moved on to another yacht when we didn’t contribute to their delinquency.  The floating bakery fulfilled our order for yummy blackberry and strawberry/rhubarb pies and cinnamon rolls.  Met and exchanged boat tours with Shelly Golison and Joy Blair aboard Offshore 55 Catrina.

 

Monday, August 4, 2003, in our quest to find new and different vistas Safari ventured into Roscoe Bay where a drying shoal must be crossed at high tide to enter.  Our timing was good with five and a half feet of water under the keel when we entered.  With at least 40 boats already inside on a long Canadian holiday weekend this was a good chance to demonstrate our anchoring skill in tight quarters.  Down went the anchor just off the stern of a couple of rafted sailboats.  Then just as the dinghy was being launched the wind shifted 180 degrees and piped up to about 15 knots.  By the time I got the stern line to shore and around a tree Safari had swung around requiring Gay to rotate the boat under power against the wind.  As I was admiring her skill while rappelling down a rocky cliff the line suddenly slacked causing me to cartwheel into the water scraping a knee and splitting a couple of toes on oyster shells in the process.  After a refreshing swim to the dinghy, good boat handling by Gay and tugging by Wyman we were finally secure, but the dinghy and cockpit looked like we had butchered a hog.  We did get a round of applause from nearby boats.  The folks in the next boat had punctured their inflatable on oyster shells so we gave them a lift to the trail leading to Black Lake where we spent a pleasant afternoon swimming in the clear, warm fresh water.

 

#20 Garden Bay

 

Tuesday, August 5, 2003, on our 16th straight cloudless day it is easy to understand why Prideaux Haven is the most popular anchorage in Desolation Sound with its’ many islands, nooks, vistas of high mountains, swimming holes, rope swings and warm water.  When we were here in May we were the only boat; now in peak season, there must be at least 150 boats with room for twice that many more.  The favorite pastime seems to be cruising around in dinghies or kayaks to socialize with old friends.  We spent time with Bill and Rebbie Bates aboard Offshore 48 Rebozo and with Penny and Glenn Byrd of  Sunfjord 54 Burnaby.  SFYC members Ed and Rosemary Mein came by Safari to introduce themselves.  St. Francis YC members Tom & Holly who we met last year at Mamalilaculla also dropped by.

 

Wednesday, August 6, 2003, anchored in Tenedos Bay where we hiked up to Unwin Lake.

 

Thursday, August 7, 2003, Mother Nature used only one color (blue) in 50 or more shades as we crossed Desolation Sound enroute to anchor in Malaspina Inlet at Grace Harbor in brilliant sunshine.  It’s an easy hike to the lake.

 

Friday, August 8, 2003, Grace Harbor is such a pleasant place we stayed another day and explored Lancelot Inlet, Wooten Bay and Theodosia Inlet by dinghy with a lunch stop at the Laughing Oyster Café overlooking Okeover Inlet.

 

Saturday, August 9, 2003, after a three hour lunch stop at Lund where I installed a new bilge pump switch a 20 knot breeze kicked up quite a chop in Malaspina Strait enroute to anchor at Fox Island across from Nelson Island in Blind Bay.  After a late afternoon swim we watched the sunset while playing dominos on the flybridge until it was too dark to see the spots.

 

Sunday, August 10, 2003, following a dinghy ride through Ballet Bay we cruised on to Pender Harbor where we docked at the Garden Bay Marina & Hotel (there is no hotel but the title makes it seem better than it really is).  After almost two weeks at various anchorages and no rain for a month Safari needed a top to bottom washing.  A clean boat is a happy boat as they say.  Local Garden Bay residents Fran and Art whom we met last year came by for a visit and arranged a walking schedule with Gay while Wyman attends a board meeting in Chicago.

 

Monday, August 11, 2003, Wyman departed by floatplane to Vancouver for a connection to Chicago.  Gay walked with her friend, Fran and caught up on the past year.  She watched boats fill up the marina.  GH

 

Tuesday, August 12, 2003, Gay walked to Fran and Art’s place, which is quicker by dinghy, but she needed the exercise.  They were canning 12 salmon that their son had caught on a fishing trip.  She was asked to stay for a fresh Dungeness crab lunch.  GH

 

Wednesday, August 13, 2003, Wyman rejoined Gay at Garden Bay and socialized with some of the people Gay met while he was gone.

 

#21Gulf Islands

 

Thursday, August 14, 2003, after a long hike to Garden Bay Lake and Katherine Lake we moved on to the marina in Secret Cove.  Then, we dinghied across Welcome Passage to the beautiful sandy beach at Buccaneer Bay between North and South Thormanby Island for a picnic lunch.  On the way back we cruised through the Surrey Islands and into intimate Smuggler Cove that resembles an alpine lake with granite outcroppings and evergreen trees to the water’s edge.  Smuggler Cove derives its name from a time when “assisting” Chinese laborers across the border into the United States was profitable.  For future reference, steel rings have been installed in the rocks along the shoreline, which simplifies the task of tying a stern line to shore.

 

Friday, August 15, 2003, crossed the Strait of Georgia without incident to anchor behind Kendrick Island where we harvested oysters and watched boats struggle or zoom through Gabriola Passage depending on their direction relative to the current.  When the current began to really rip I went fishing in the passage and caught a fish so big that it stripped 600 feet of line off my reel and kept going.  When we anchored at low tide Kendrick Island was connected to Valdes Island forming a quiet cove like so many others we have anchored in.  However, by 6:00 p.m. when I decided to take a swim the rising tide had separated the island and a current was running through the anchorage.  I dove off the swim platform and swam a boat length or so away from the boat when I realized I had to swim very hard to get back to the boat.  At dinner we discussed how lucky we were that Gay who is not a strong swimmer didn’t go in because I would not have been able to pull her back to the boat against the current and the rapids at Gabriola Passage are only 300 yards away. 

 

Saturday, August 16, 2003, sailed through Gabriola Passage, squeezed between Decourcy and Ruxton Islands, crossed Stuart Channel and docked at Ladysmith Harbor on Vancouver Island. It appears that the 20th Century didn’t have much impact on the town of Ladysmith which looks like a 1920’s movie set with it’s Victorian homes and storefronts.  Since Ladysmith is on the 49th parallel I guess we are halfway to San Francisco (latitude 38) from our northernmost point (60 degrees north).  In our continuing quest to live off the fat of the land we picked a gallon of blackberries.

 

Sunday, August 17, 2003, we took the dinghy from Thetis Island Marina in Telegraph Cove across Stuart Channel to the charming seaside village of Chemainus that is almost too cute for words.  To keep from becoming a ghost town when four of it’s five sawmills closed, Chemainus invited internationally known artists to use the town as a canvas.  Today, more than 34 murals and 12 sculptures depict the town’s history, people and future.  Large flower baskets hang every 20 feet or so and every house and building is brightly painted.  Thus, it claims to be the world’s largest outdoor gallery and has an active professional theater company and music program.

 

Monday, August 18, 2003, securely tied to shore in pretty Princess Bay on Wallace Island in preparation for a gale, hiked and swam.

 

Tuesday, August 19, 2003, stayed another day at Wallace Island Marine Park, hiked and harvested six red crabs.

 

Wednesday, August 20, 2003, on our 31st consecutive sunny day we pulled into the bustling village of Ganges on Saltspring Island to browse the galleries and grocery shop.

 

#22 Autopilot problems

 

Thursday, August 21, 2003, anchored in scenic Long Harbor, Saltspring Island.

 

Friday, August 22, 2003, anchored in Montague Harbor, Galiano Island, hiked, met a couple (Jim and Darlene Allan) from Victoria on the Hummingbird bus to the Hummingbird Pub and took in a cute play, “What the Butler Saw.”

 

Saturday, August 23, 2003, stayed in Montague, hiked, met Jim and Jan, Offshore 48 “Sprig” from Bodega Bay.

 

Sunday, August 24, 2003, docked at Van Isle Marina in Sidney.  Jim and Darlene gave us the grand tour of Victoria and then we had dinner with John & Sue from San Antonio aboard Nordhavn 40 “Uno Mas,” last seen in Sitka.

 

Monday, August 25, 2003, at Van Isle fixed the small generator that had overheated.

 

Tuesday, August 26, 2003, at Van Isle, Philbrooks changed the engine oil and completed other minor maintenance in preparation for the journey down the coast.

 

Wednesday, August 27, 2003, at Van Isle went to Butchart Gardens in full bloom on a beautiful day.

 

Thursday, August 28, 2003, as we crossed the border into the United States our autopilot began to malfunction.  After we phoned the dealer in Anacortes, Washington, who concluded that the gyrocompass had gone haywire and agreed to make the 20-mile boat trip to meet us in Friday Harbor on Tuesday, Gay pushed on some wires and it magically began to work.  (We later decided it would be better to go to the dealer in Anacortes rather than have him come to us). Now we don’t know what went wrong, but we must have it working properly before we head down the coast.  Customs entry at Friday Harbor, San Juan Island, Washington went smoothly.  We then docked at a private home a few blocks from the ferry terminal offered to us by John Mifflin.  The traffic in Friday Harbor is quite amazing with float planes landing and taking off and ferries coming and going along with pleasure and work boats of all descriptions in a fairly confined space.

 

Friday, August 29, 2003, when two screw holes didn’t line up on the swim step handrail that had been rebedded by Philbrooks we returned to Sidney.  The autopilot didn’t work on the 20-mile trip back to Canada.

 

Saturday, August 30, 2003, the autopilot began to work on the trip back to Friday Harbor.    We cleared customs by phone enroute.

 

Sunday, August 31, 2003, we went to Turn Island by dinghy for a picnic with John Mifflin and Betty and had dinner in Friday Harbor with Bill and Rebbie Bates who live aboard Offshore 48 “Rebozo” in Roche Harbor.

 

Monday, September 1, 2003, the autopilot worked perfectly on the trip to Anacortes to get it fixed. 

 

Tuesday, September 2, 2003, a new autopilot controller circuit board is being sent from the factory to Anacortes.

 

Wednesday, September 3, 2003, with a new compass and controller the autopilot checked out OK in a sea trial.

 

#23 Homeward Bound

 

Thursday, September 4, 2003, at Roche Harbor Safari was docked next to Bill & Rebbie Bates’ Offshore 48 Rebozo.  Safari’s wireless mouse and keyboard began to act squirrelly due to a wireless Internet service available to boaters in the harbor that used a frequency close to that used by the mouse.  The problem went away when we left the harbor. 

 

Friday, September 5, 2003, delivery crewmember Jerry Knecht arrived via Kenmore Air floatplane in anticipation of a departure on Saturday morning for the passage to San Francisco.  Jerry is a seasoned sailor who completed a circumnavigation of the planet aboard his 43-foot sailboat and was the first recipient of the SFYC Cruisers’ Trophy.  (Gay and Wyman are the current holders of this prestigious award.)  Although weather reports began to sound somewhat dicey, Safari and crew (Wyman & Gay Harris, Bill Bates and Jerry Knecht) are ready to go.

 

Saturday, September 6, 2003:  Planned departure of 05:30 was delayed while weather information was received from various sources including a weather routing service.  Net result was a decision by skipper Harris to depart at 07:30 for Neah Bay only, and to await further developments in the weather situation there.  General prognosis for the next three days is poor – two lows, converging in the Alaska/BC waters combined with an offshore high off Oregon are expected to produce uncomfortable and perhaps dangerous seas and SW winds in the 25 knot range. 

 

So, tonight at Neah Bay we had a great Gay-made dinner, and will see what tomorrow brings – other than a visit to the local Indian museum, which is one of the best.  JK

 

Sunday, September 7, 2003,

 

After a long night’ sleep, Safari crept out of glamorous Neah Bay at 0730 before the office opened, so the skipper and his wife are currently on the financial bad side of the Makaah Nation! Wyman assures us that he will settle-up when he gets home.

 

We rounded Cape Flattery with grey skies, quite smooth seas, and soon plunged into a thick fog that surrounded us like a grey sock for many hours. The Princess of this cruise line fed us all with hearty breakfast and a fine lunch.  For most of the day the wind was less than 6 knots, which made for an exceptionally pleasant trip including one humpback whale spotting and a porpoise family that frolicked in our bow wave. 

 

Dinnertime approached, and as soon as crewman Bill finished his first shower in two days (yea!!), Wyman discovered the generator would not start because of a low battery and therefore Gay would not be able to cook the evening dinner. Wyman and Bill removed the battery from the dinghy, disconnected the generator battery, replaced it with the dinghy battery, started the generator and then reconnected the dinghy battery back into the dinghy. This small amount of effort allowed Gay to cook and Bill to get sweaty and stinky again--just like the rest of the crew!

 

The evolved steaming plan was to reach Newport, Oregon the morning of the 8th, and after evaluating available weather inputs, perhaps continue onto Coos Bay, another 90 miles.  Night watches were set, the seas nearly calm, and we literally drove down the moonbeam as we continued to head south. BB

 

Monday, September 8, 2003, based on our analysis of the weather forecast Safari bypassed Newport at about 7:30 am and raced the perfect storm to Coos Bay—32 hours and 319 nautical miles at sea since leaving Neah Bay.  This apparently made Neptune angry because the seas immediate rose up in protest.  Along the way we sailed through a pod of about eleven Orcas including one big male and one or two babies.  One albatross effortlessly skimmed the waves nearby while shearwaters soared and dipped looking for a tasty morsel.  Looking ahead, the weather doesn’t look good for the foreseeable future.

 

Tuesday, September 9, 2003, the crew of Safari spent another pleasant day enjoying the wonders of Coos Bay while the ocean continued to be unfriendly.  The local community is mourning the loss of one of its’ own 30 year veteran fishermen who failed to return in his well equipped 65 foot fishing boat.  Hope for his safe return dimmed when his life ring was found.  This event confirms our decision to sit out the worst of the weather in a secure harbor but with full knowledge that the most hazardous part of the trip around Cape Mendocino lies ahead with 25 to 30 knot winds and 13 to 16 foot seas forecast through Saturday.  Thus, the date of our arrival back to SFYC is indeterminate.

 

#24

 

(From Jerry:  On a rainy evening at the dock in Coos Bay, I encountered a group of about 15 people who stood at an empty berth across which they had strung colored lights diagonally.  I then understood those lights – they closed the berth in honor of their patriarch master seaman who was lost this week.  There were:  wife # 1, wife # 3 (best of friends) and various sons, daughters and other family members.  Silent hugs included me, and I left them, arriving back on Safari in tears.)

 

Wednesday, September 10, 2003, the U.S. Coast Guard escorted Safari across the bar out of Coos Bay through steep, but not breaking, 6 to 8 foot waves.  At sea, wind built to 20 knots and westerly swells increased from seven to ten feet.  We increased boat speed to 15 knots to achieve a better ride and to possibly reach Eureka before afternoon wind driven swells closed the bar, but decided to pull into Crescent City when seas began to build dramatically. 

 

Thursday, September 11, 2003, the wind veered to the northwest on a beautiful day in the ocean as we approached Trinidad Head enroute from Crescent City to Eureka where we plan to sit out the next gale before rounding Cape Mendocino.  Current weather forecasts indicate that the earliest opportunity to safely round Cape Mendocino will be on Sunday.

 

  The

#25 Final Approach

 

Friday, September 12, 2003, at Woodley Island Marina in Eureka, CA we are able to walk to the NOAA Eureka weather station to talk to the forecasters and see their weather models on big screen TV.  It’s not a pretty picture with 45 knots of wind offshore generating 15 to 17 foot swells for several days into the future.  Onshore it’s a beautiful day to enjoy Eureka, which owes its charm and fascination to the many Victorian homes, which are a legacy of the lumber baron era.   After breakfast, Wyman, Gay, and Bill took a taxi to downtown.  Jerry elected to take a short walk around the marina.  Bill went to Costco to purchase various essential supplies, and the Harris’s were the sightseers of the group. They report strolling around gaping at the beautifully restored lumber baron houses.   Gay almost bought several shoes, but decided against it as they probably all would not fit. Also, they took the responsibility for purchasing more victuals at the local Safeway for the unknown duration of Safari’s sojourn in Humbolt Bay.  The afternoon was spent reading, polishing stainless steel, and still another visit to the NWS office (a block from the marina office), where we determined that a weather window would not open for the conclusion of the trip until Monday. Gloom. After a fine dinner, it was decided that an episode of “Sex and the City” followed by a short segment from “Mr. Bean” would put the troops in a better frame of mind for the possible additional day in Eureka. BB

 

Saturday, September 13. 2003, the Coast Guard closed the Eureka bar due to high waves and breaking surf but Sunday is looking better.

 

Sunday, September 14, 2003, Hooray, conditions permitted leaving Eureka at 07:30.  Crossed the bar with 10-12 foot swells; Safari handled them very well.  Rounded Cape Mendocino with about the same conditions and then adopted a more comfortable course, with seas dead astern, for Pt. Arena.  Sunny until 1:30, then dense fog.  Crew happy to be headed for SF finally.  Estimated time of arrival is 07:00 Monday morning. JK

 

#26 Safe at Home

 

Monday, September 15, 2003, heavy fog continued from early Sunday afternoon through the night until daybreak as the swells became lumps and finally flattened.  Then, after almost 24 hours at sea Safari steamed under the Golden Gate Bridge, crossed the bay and eased into her familiar berth at the San Francisco Yacht Club at 7:15 am.  Suzanne Knecht (author of “Night Watch: Memoirs of a Circumnavigation”) was on the dock eagerly waiting for Jerry’s return.  As we backed into the slip, our daughter, Stephanie, and grandsons, Charlie and Brooks came running down the dock for hugs and kisses.  Brooks summed up the situation by saying, “Nana, you’ve been gone a long time!” 

 

With four and a half months of mail and two cars with dead batteries we quickly wished to be back in the cruising mode.  Before the pressures of life on land consume us we must give thanks for another wonderful trip to the best cruising ground in the world.  The spectacular landscape and interesting wildlife were great, but the friendly and helpful people made it special.  We didn’t encounter a single disagreeable person and made many friends.  The sunny weather in both Alaska and British Columbia set records.  Fifty-five straight warm, sunny days from July 20 to the end of the voyage was particularly impressive and welcome.  The comfortable, reliable and seaworthy Offshore 54 Pilothouse was a delightful home for our occasional guests and us.  Careful planning and good judgment regarding weather and sea conditions minimized risks and anxiety.        

 

Statistical Summary:

Elapsed time: 134 days

Sunny days: 99

Rainy days: 21

Cloudy days: 14

Distance traveled: 4,562 nautical miles or 5,253 statute miles

Diesel fuel consumed: 5,012 gallons

Nights at anchor: 57

Nights at a dock: 72

Nights at sea: 5

Number of different locations: 103

Equipment failures: Davit (crane to launch dinghy) motor/gearbox, generator seawater impeller, autopilot compass, and DVD player.

 

#27 Post Script

 

Before and during the voyage to Alaska I had to deal with certain computer software and hardware issues that were too technical to include in the daily log, but need to be documented as part of the record. 

 

Background:

(1)   Safari’s on-board computer used solely for navigation was custom made by Ocean PC (no longer in business).  A dedicated 1,000-watt inverter connected directly to the house batteries powers it.  The operating system is Windows 2000 Professional.  User interface is via wireless mouse and keyboard backed up by a second wireless mouse and keyboard as well as a wired mouse and keyboard.  Navigation software is Nobeltec Visual Navigation Series with Nobeltec Passport World Folio electronic charts.  GPS input comes from a Raymarine 120 backed up by a Furuno 31 that kicks in if there is no signal for 15 seconds.  The computer is interfaced with the Simrad/Robertson autopilot and Furuno radar.

(2)    An IBM laptop loaded with the same Nobeltec software is used as a backup to the main computer.  This computer is also used for email, business, word processing, etc.

(3)   A Raymarine L760 plotter/sounder can also be used for navigation.

(4)   Paper charts were aboard.

 

Situation:  the above system worked flawlessly during our cruise to British Columbia last year.  Over the winter, I upgraded the IBM laptop operating system from Windows 98 to Windows XP.

 

Problems:

(1)   The Canadian raster charts from NDI used last year would not work on Windows XP.  Solution: Purchased newly developed Canadian vector charts from Nobeltec available on Passport World Folio 17.

(2)   I discovered (surprise to Nobeltec) that the Canadian charts on Folio 17 had a “geo-referencing” problem.  Solution: Nobeltec programmed a fix into their about-to-be-released VNS 7.0 and sent me a CD that I installed on both computers the day before departing on May 4, 2003.

(3)   While underway, I began to find a number (7 or 8) of serious flaws in VNS 7.0.  Solution: Nobeltec programmed fixes that they emailed to me enroute.  I was able to burn a CD and install the fixes on both computers.  These fixes have now been released as VNS 7.0.702 and are available as upgrades on Nobeltec’s website.

(4)   On the laptop, Windows XP recognized the GPS input as a second mouse input causing the system to repeatedly overload and crash.  Solution: while underway, a Nobeltec technical person helped me diagnose and solve the problem.

(5)   After hitting some rough water in the ocean off the west coast of Alaska the navigation program on the main computer began to malfunction.  Solution: switched navigation to the laptop and paper charts while a Nobeltec technical person helped me determine that there was input coming from the backup wireless keyboard that had been dislodged in its’ storage location due to the rough water.  Removing the batteries in the spare keyboard solved the problem.

(6)   At Roche Harbor input from a wireless Internet system competed with the wireless mouse and keyboard causing instability in the navigation program.  Solution: leave Roche Harbor.  Caution: similar wireless Internet systems are being installed in many harbors that could cause similar problems.

 

Overall assessment/lessons learned:  All of these problems were solved while underway and did not cause any changes in route or timing because we had

(1)   Backups for mission critical systems.

(2)   Good communications with technical support via sat phone, cell phone and email.

(3)   Good knowledge of the systems and how they should operate.

(4)   Awareness that computers on boats suffer from some of the same maladies as computers on land so you’d better be able to fix them or do without them.

 


Send mail to mailto:merkleg@texas.net with questions or comments.
Copyright © 2001 - 2003 US Air Force Academy, Class of 1963
Last modified: November 14, 2003