June 3rd-4th.
Tenakee Springs
Several days where spent lounging about Tenakee Springs and enjoying the hard ground under my feet. We enjoyed a nice hike along the coast lead by a eager local and on Saturday, there was a community potluck and fundraiser for a local who is battling cancer. With a contribution of food and my guitar in hand, we all headed to the Tenakee Springs Community Center joined on the one road of the town by many carrying assorted tinfoil covered dishes. The room was packed, noisy with the sound of overlapping conversations. Along the inside wall was a long table full of a large variety of dishes. Fresh crab, rices, pastas, quinoa salad and a large assortment of deserts. With so many choices, several passes were required to sample even close to everything. As meals were finished, tables were folded and chairs were stacked making way for dancing and live music. After a few songs featuring banjo and accordion were played, I got the courage to ask if I could join in on the jam and was warmly encouraged to get my guitar out. G standards were the name of the game as I happily played along. A few songs in, pop, a string breaks on my guitar. I switched up to bass guitar on which I ended up playing folk, rock, and bluegrass tunes for the next three hours on. The room slowly emptied leaving only the die hards to dance and play. As my fellow jammers called it a night, I asked if I could play a few songs of my on a borrowed guitar. I belted out a few of my most practiced songs which the remaining crowd seemed to enjoy. A few more songs in and all the musicians in the room were back on the stage taking turns leading songs. The second coming of the jam ended up lasting another hour or more, my fingers now thoroughly raw from playing non-stop for over four hours. Horse voiced, I was a happy camper at the end of the night.
June 5th. Cloud, showers.
Tenakee Springs to Wachusett Cove
Before heading off, we checked out the sailboat of a couple we had met the night before, Dave and Yanka. We had been told about there unique hand built vessel by a fellow in Baranof and were delighted to learn more about. Built in Sitka by Dave and Yanka, "Slack Tide" as they named it is a junk rigged, flat bottomed, fossil fuel free boat. They have a propeller that is powered through peddling, and being flat bottomed and only drawing twelve inches they can anchor just about anywhere or just beach it. To bottom has a layer of strong copper and there are drop down keels on both side of the boat. Inside is a one room cabin with windows almost at waterline, and a galley complete with a wood burning stove. Although, they explain, she is not the fastest sailor out there, Slack Tide is a unique vessel that has much to envy, particularly its ability to anchor just about anywhere with a soft bottom. Jill and I had been talking, and after much thought, decided to give our relationship another shot, so rather then taking the ferry she had planned on, Jill joined me while Hannah decided she wanted to stay in Tenakee for a little while to have a break from boat life. With a strong breeze howling down inlet, Jill and I set sail at the bright hour of 8pm. Only a minute or two of motoring was needed to get out of the tight small craft harbor before we hauled up sails and quickly got up to top speed. Looking behind, to my surprise was a sailboat of a local, Steve, motoring up towards up. I quickly took the proposition of a race and readied the spinnaker. After a few fumbles, the massive area of the bright sail filled with late evening air, now increasing in strength. Briefly, they nearly caught up but as I fine tuned the spinnaker, Magie took off, surfing down waves now laced with streaking foam. Now over a mile ahead, Steve turned around and we continued on our way, buzzing with the excitement of not only Magie's first race under my hands, but winning that race. Whitecaps now everywhere with dark clouds following them, it was time to drop the spinnaker, something I had never done in such strong winds. I went over the motions in my head of what to do and in a few carefully planned moves, the spinnaker was on the deck, Jill confidently guiding Magie down the building seas. Under only mainsail, we were maintaining seven and half knots. Not bad for boat with a hull speed of just under six knots! As we neared the end of Tenekee Inlet, the wide open and flat calm Chatham Straight opened up. There is a low pass at the end of the inlet that evidently funnels west winds off the Pacific but looses its gusto once out of the confines of the steep sided channel. Going from thirty knots to zero was enough to encourage spending the night in the nearby Wachusett Cove.
June 6th. Sun, cloud late.
Wachusett Cove to Swanson Harbor
Another relaxed morning was enjoyed with almost no wind to encourage otherwise. The beach in the cove was comprised of red sand with cliffs carved out into small caves and sea stacks. By 11:00am, enough wind was blowing to get Magie going. In the warm sun, we tacked our way up the last twenty miles of Chatham Straight. The current was against us a good part of the day, but this resulted in very small seas considering the twenty knots blowing and allowed fast sailing under genoa and reefed main. The wind backed off to ten knots with gusts near fifteen, but now the tide was opposing the wind. The result was confused seven foot seas with the occasional ten footers sneaking up. We battled through it with not much difficulty while kept my hand on the main sail sheet, letting it out as gusts of near twenty came at us. The gusts became constant and a reef was thrown back on the main sail. Now at the confluence of Lynn Canal, Icy Straights and Chatham Straight, the waves were wild coming up all the respective channels and meeting near the well named, Hanus Rocks. The rock is only exposed during the lower half of the tide and sits smack dab in the middle of the all this chaos. I can only imagine the stress and bravery the first European explorers had while charting this area with its countless hidden dangers. The entrance of Swanson Harbor was a welcome sight as we gave plenty of room to the lee while passing Rocky Island to enter the channel. Ten minutes of motoring brought Magie to the state maintained refuge dock were we tied up, very happy not having to anchor in the blustery winds.
June 7th. Sun, cloud late.
Swanson Habor
Still very tired from a long day of tacking, Magie stayed tied for the day while we enjoyed the sunshine, trying to catch one of the very energetic dolly varden trout feeding on young salmon schools near the dock. Twice, I had beautiful specimens on the line, but both times they managed to get free before getting the net under them. As the sun began its five hour break from shinning on us, we took a short walk ashore, exploring the beach strewn with boulders left behind by the glaciers that once covered the area. Extra bungy cords were required to silents the halyards from whipping the mast as the wind came up strong late in the evening.
June 8th. Sun, cloud and a few showers late.
Swanson Habor to Hoonah
Wind still very strong, Jill and I waited till near noon to cast off as things calmed down a fair bit. The seas were surprisingly low considering the previous twelve hours of fury upon them. As always, the wind was coming from exactly where we wanted to go, so we tacked and tacked some more. A steady five knots was maintained across Icy Straight with humpback whales and Dall's porpoises abound. With Magie now mostly empty of fresh vegetables and fruit, we were excited to arrive in Hoonah with its reportedly good grocery store. Fair prices and friendly staff where found both at the grocery store and fuel dock. Inquiring at the local bar if they would air the hockey game, we rushed to dock Magie on the transient floats then headed back the to bar. Jill chatted with more friendly locals while I was captivated by the Canucks playing Boston in the Stanley Cup Final, the final result, a disappointing 4-0 loss. Thoroughly buzzed from the four pints enjoyed, Jill and I ran about the streets, watching out for cars for the first time in weeks.
June 9th. Cloud, showers, a bit of sun with multiple rainbows
Hoonah to Bartlett Cove
The morning was spent doing laundry and showering for the first time in close to week. Feeling fresh and clean, we set sail at 4pm with our aim of arriving at the entrance to Glacier Bay at 12:01am, June 10th, the earliest our permit aloud us in the park. Just outside Hoonah, I spotted a bald eagle struggling to swim, but making slow progress towards the shore. I have read that eagles cannot release there grip until landed, so if they happen to catch a salmon to big, they risk drowning or perhaps in this eagles case, swimming to shore with its catch. With the eagle laboring behind us, it was a wonderful evening to be floating around ocean between small spurts of wind. Showers came and went with many bright rainbows highlighting the evening sky. The spray of whales surfacing was illuminated in the golden light finally fading as the sun set near 10pm, Magie now nearing Gustavus with Gustavus Point and Glacier Bays entrances not far ahead. As it would turn out, we crossed the line into the park about five minutes after midnight in close to complete darkness due to now thick cloud cover. Our little navigation lights were enough for a large vessel miles off to see us and subsequently shine there spot light on us lighting up Magie's white sails. After being temporally blinded by the spot light, I was able to see the shoreline I was following again. The wind died off forcing us to motor the last five miles to Bartlett Cove were anchorage was easily taken in forty feet of water.
June 10th. Sun with a few clouds
Bartlett Cove to Johnson Cove
Despite not getting to bed until 2am, I felt well rested rising to the sun shinning and whales feeding near by. Jill and I hoisted the dinghy off the foredeck and rowed to shore to attend the required boaters briefing before continuing into the bay. The park ranger showed us a movie highlighting the reasons for the rules and travel restrictions throughout the park. Also noted in the movie was to be careful when near cruise ships. Despite the park claiming they have rules in place to protect whales and wildlife, two of these massive moving cities are allowed in the park per day.
A light breeze from, you guessed it, the direction we were heading was coming up as we pulled up the anchor. We timed our departure to catch favorable currents through Sitkaday Narrows, which helped Magie along in a big way with almost no wind left to fill the sails. Sea otters were abundant while nearing our anchorage for the night, Johnson Cove on the north end of Willoughby Island. With the sun heading down, I dropped the lure into the water, repeatedly pulling up small cod and one small halibut. Some minor repairs were addressed on the genoa before retiring to the cabin for the night.
June 11th. Sun and a few clouds.
Johnson Cove to Reid Inlet
Up at 9:30am to brilliant sunshine once again. After breakfast, I tried fishing again hoping to find some lunch. A few more small cod were caught before my rod was arched to the point I where I thought it was going to snap. Letting it run a bit, I began to slowly reel in, asking Jill to be ready with the net. After a few minutes of battling, to Jill and my astonishment came to the surface a halibut far to big to even consider hauling aboard Magie. With the foot and half wide net next to the halibut, it became very clear there was no landing this fish with out a gaff hook or gun for that matter. If I had to guess, this guy was certainly over 50lb and quite possibly 60lb plus. While letting him run again, the line got twisted on line and promptly snapped, the fish making the decisions of what to do for me. After all the excitement, we set sail aiming for Reid Inlet thirty miles northwest with the wind behind us. Sea loins followed us from time to time, inquisitivly surveying Magies stern. The first views of big glaciers began mid day as the wind died off and motoring began. Rounding the corner, the massive blue tongue of the Reid Glacier came into view, ending with sea water splashing at its base. We anchored in 50ft, mountains rising steeply from both sides with the glacier a mere one mile ahead. The water in Reid inlet is a milky blue, very similar to the water of Lake Louise. Once tidying up Magie, Jill and I rowed ashore, remarking that of how close we felt to shore when anchoring but how far we really where from it. Large bear prints followed along the beach towards the glacier encouraging us to sing and be nice and loud to avoid sneaking up on the possible company ahead. It had been some time since I had stood next to a dry glacier, huge cracks of varying blues everywhere. Jill investigated different chunks of ice at the edge of the glacier while I attempted to go up some low angle ice. It did not take long to recall that its almost impossible to ascend ice of any steepness with out crampons, I now sheepishly crab walking my way off the ice. The air was cold blowing from the ice field above as we walked the shore back to where Magie was anchored, dwarfed by the huge scale of everything around her.
June 12th. Sun.
Reid Inlet
As has been the case much of this trip, the early morning sun, now rising at 3:30am, warmed the cabin. A hardy breakfast was enjoyed as we prepared to ascend a peak on the west shore of the inlet. A gully, full of loose rocks and snow patches was the natural path to get past the extremely thick brush that blankets the lower elevations in the area. Boots on, bags packed, we hauled the dinghy ashore and started pounding the dirt with hopes of getting high above the ocean this day. Starting up the gully, we made good progress being very careful around some large, precariously positioned boulders. Approaching the snow higher in the gully, it became clear we now had to bush wack as the snow was weak and if one was to break through would fall into a steam or onto loose rocks. Challenging travel consumed the next half hour until breaking out of the bushes and into the alpine with snow patches making for fast travel. A few bluffs presented a fun chance to do a bit of climbing on somewhat solid rock. After clambering over a few more bluffs, Jill looking very confident on her first scramble, we reached the final push to the summit over mostly firm snow. The view from the top was epic. Between the ice bergs floating around in the sea below, the most rugged mountains I have ever seen to the west and the windless warm air on top, this is one of the best summits I have stood on. Birds played above as we had lunch, soaked in the views and took many, many pictures. The way down consisted of snow, slightly softened by the sun which made for great speed and a hell of a lot of fun taking us all the way to "bush line." It would turn out that bush wacking downhill is much easier then up. After a solid hour of "grade IIV" bush wacking, we emerged onto the beach feeling very satisfied with the days romp around the hills.
June 13th. Sun, a few clouds and light sprinkles
Reid Inlet to the head of Tarr Inlet and back
Yet another sunny morning was savored as we pulled up anchor to explore Tarr Inlet with the massive Grand Pacific and Margie Glaciers falling into the sea at its head. A light breeze from the east had us under sail maintaining a pleasant speed into the mouth of Tarr Inlet. Our first ice bergs where encountered, taking the place of logs which are not evident in Glacier Bay. Nearing the head, Margie Glacier's massive walls of collapsing ice where incredible. We carefully weaved our way between ice chunks to within half a mile of the glacier and shut off the engine to drift about with the ice. Constant creaks and groans came from the towering seracs and from time to time, a loud crack was followed by the smash of ice falling into the sea, large swells slowly finding Magie the outcome. Jill set up her hammock while I set off in the dinghy to have a closer look at toe of the glacier. Finding my way through the maze of ice bergs and chunks, some the size of ice cubes, others as large as a cars was a very fun process. Turning off the engine, the sounds of the glacier marching forward were much clearer from so close. Sea bird came and went from nests high on near by cliffs, large scratches evident from the advancing and receding ice. Arriving back at Magie, I found Jill thoroughly relaxed hanging in the hammock set up between the fore stay and mast, truly a priceless moment. To fully understand the magnitude and shear power of a tide water glacier, one really must see it in person. After several hours spent hanging around in the pack ice, it was time to make our way back to Reid Inlet, the only anchorage in the area. A very slight breeze allowed us to ghost out under sail ever so slowly. A short while was spent in irons before the wind came up strong from the east. Before I knew it, we were reefing the mainsail and sailing at a furious pace, tacking while avoiding ice chunks. The wind brought us all the way back to Reid Inlet before falling calm as we anchored, a nice to change to the usual routine of being calm all day then huffing up the minute the anchor is set.
June 14th. Cloudy
Reid Inlet to Blue Mouse Cove
With no wind to warrant moving from the most amazing anchorage I have ever seen, Jill and I decided to head back to the glacier, this time armed with ice axes and crampons. We ended up rowing most the way to the glaciers toe rather then walking the half hour on soft sand, a tiring process as we found out a few days before. Crampons and ice axes drawn, I showed Jill the basics of moving on ice. "Walk like a cowboy to avoid ripping your pants" I told her as we proceeded onto the ice, moving slowly at first but getting the feel for the plastic feeling glacier ice quickly. Working our way through sections of heavily cravased madness, we found a large flat area with not a hole in sight. Ahead was an extremely convoluted area with towering blocks of stable looking ice. With help of binoculars, I found what looked like a route to the high point of the towers. Along we went, happily exploring bright blue glacier ponds, looking into deep cravases and all around loving the joy of exploring a glacier with no snow on it. We weaved through the twisting maze of ice and after a few short and steep sections, we were standing on our goal. Magie was merely a speck in the distance with mostly ancient ice making up our view. Slowly we found our way back to the sea having to avoid some unbelievably large cracks and being careful on some tricky down climbing. In climbing, its always easier on the way up, but when forced to head down the same section, its full on. Ice soon turned to dirt and we hoped back into the dinghy, making very good time with a strong breeze now howling off the glacier. Taking half the time it took to row there, we arrived at Magie happy and tired. Dinner was enjoyed as the winds continually increased. By 8pm, 25 knots was raging down at us as I nervously watched the lee shore only 100 meters behind. I look though the binoculars revealed that the wind, now nearing a gale force, was isolated to the inlet as the waters outside it were near calm. At 10pm, there was no sign of the now gale, calming anytime soon, waves now 3ft despite the short fetch. After examining the charts of Glacier Bay, we decided to get out of the raging funnel of wind and head for Blue Mouse Cove, 12.5 miles south east. I warmed the engine while Jill began to take in some of the anchor rode being careful as Magie's bow bucked wildly in the choppy, steep waves, streaks of foam and whitecaps everywhere. The second the anchor was free, we began drifting very quickly, so I put the engine to almost full throttle to clear Magie of the lee shore behind. Once passed the spits that make up the mouth of the inlet, we raised the mainsail, promptly gaining hull speed. Very fast and exciting sailing was savored as we watched the line of calm water ahead become closer and closer. From 40 knots in the inlet, the wind was now less then 5 knots, only a quarter mile from our anchorage. Talk about localized winds! Now 11:30, it was beginning to get to the stage of the short night were it was slightly challenging to make out distant landmarks. I concentrated on keeping our location on the chart clear as winds began to build from the southeast. Whitecaps began to appear as I reefed the mainsail, now a very routine task with the sporadic Alaskan winds. Seas built to 5 or 6ft as the night wore on, the full moon cresting over the hills to our south. Sea spray kept me alert, shielding my face under the hood of my jacket as waves slapped the windward of Magie. Feeling very tired and now 2am, Blue Mouse Cove was a welcome sight. The wind died off as we approached the simple entrance, made easier by the fact it was almost day light again at 2:30am. We noticed our friends Peter and Glenda's vessel "Seaducktress" was anchored in the bay. We dropped the hook nearby and sleep came fast as the sun appeared in the east, casting light on the high mountain peaks.
June 15th. Sun and cloud.
Blue Mouse Cove to Johnson Cove
Awaking to my name being called, I jumped up to say hello to Peter and Glenda who where on there way out to Tarr Inlet. The mid-morning air was warm and even slightly muggy as the sky threatened rain. Still exhausted, I saw no reason not to return to bed, so to bed I went. Up again at the crack of noon, my stomach now sore with hunger. A large breakfast was very quickly consumed and the days plan of relaxing executed perfectly. I was able to tune into a sports radio station that was updating the progress of game seven between Vancouver and Boston. I listened with vigor to the updates spaced out between the blabber of the loud mouthed talk show host. The end was not what I was looking for, but for the most part, I was able to remind myself that none of it matters. After the game was finished, I had a look at the chart plotter to see how long a run we needed to do tomorrow, our last day permitted in the park. Quickly, I came to realize the distance was huge and we would need to get to an anchorage just before Sitkaday Narrows to take advantage of the early morning ebb that switch to a flood near 8:30am. Jill and I quickly got Magie ready for sailing, things strewn about the cabin having not anticipated any evening of sailing. The anchor was off at 6:15pm and spinnaker set shortly after with a perfect little breeze on our stern. Sea otters sightings where plentiful in the area along with porpoises and a few humpbacks. As we ghosted along, a sea otter floating around, eating a meal on its belly did not notice us coming. We got within 15ft of it before it saw us and with what could only be explained as a "o shit face", plunged below the surface. We neared Johnson Cove around 1am having been very happy to sail gently in familiar waters. Sleep came quickly once anchored knowing full well the alarm was set for 5:30am.
June 16th. Mostly sunny
Johnson Cove to Hoonah
Beep beep beep! Snooze. Beep beep beep! Snooze. Beep beep beep, alright alright! It was rough rolling out of bed this morning, my toes clenching as they touched the cold cabin floor. No wind was evident, so stubbornly, I started the engine and aimed the bow south to Stikaday Narrows. Jill made pancakes which certainly helped my tired mood warm up. We reached the narrows by 7:15am, funny as I thought we had been motoring at only 5 knots but we had traveled 8 miles in just over an hour. Turns out the current was a much bigger factor then I had guessed it would be. I turned on the gps and to my pleasant surprise, we were moving at 8.3 knots. It got better, first maintaining 10 knots before maxing out at 11.3 knots. Magie screamed along at 8-9 knots for the better part of two hours before the currents faded past Point Gustavus. The sun was now high and we were in whale city. At any given time, more then five humpbacks could be seen surfacing with a few breaching in the distance. Porpoises were everywhere, hunting the hordes of salmon jumping constantly around us. We cruised along at 4-5 knots under spinnaker alone. The fishing rod trolling behind went wild once, the fish getting away a moment after I grabbed the reel. Nearing Burger Point, the wind eased, then fell calm. Motoring was required for the last 3 miles into Hoonah where we grabbed some groceries before heading just outside the small craft harbor to anchor and save on moorage for the night. Our idea to anchor was paid off double with golden sunset illuminating the water around us which would have been totally missed had we been tied in the harbor behind the large breakwater.
June 17th. Sun with a few clouds
Hoonah to Halibut Island
We enjoyed the sunny morning aboard Magie with no wind in sight. Near 2pm, a nice breeze kicked up, so with the sun beating down, we set sail and tacked away from Hoonah. Nearing Icy Straight, the wind stopped completely. A look at the charts indicated a spot off Halibut Island where we could anchor for a while and wait for wind. I short push on the motor had us anchored on mirror calm water, whales and porpoises feeding all around. By 6pm, there was still no wind. Rum out, we where staying the night at what turned out to be a lovely anchorage. I had a go at catching dinner and would you guess it, a perfect "couple size" halibut was caught in minutes. The water remained calm as Jill and I enjoyed our delicious catch with quinoa pilaf, a salad full of nuts and dried fruit and lots of fiery rum. Yarr harr!
June 18th. Sun with building clouds, a few showers late.
Halibut Island to Funter Bay
Awoke to the same as I fell asleep to, mirror calm seas, only now I had a nice little head ache from the previous nights indulgence. The morning was spent relaxing as the sun turned to clouds. Finally near 3pm, a breeze kicked up enough to get going. The breeze ended up being short lived only carriering us 4 miles before falling calm again. We motored a short way before the wind came up again, and nicely this time. Sailing along, I looked ahead at what looked like a log. Nearing this apparent log, it was realized it was a sleeping humpback whale. With no motor running to disturb it, we ghosted by, watching as it raised up slightly every few minutes for a breath, then back down leaving just it's hump exposed. Ahead where The Sisters, two low laying islands sitting right in the middle of Icy Straight. The shallows surrounding them caused much disturbance of the sea state, waves quickly stacking to 3ft. Whitecaps now surrounded Magie as we charged downwind past The Sisters, the indent across Lynn Canal that was Funter Bay coming into view. Switching out to spinnaker, we maintained 5 knots for most the evening. A few orcas surfaced near by, the first we had seen since just outside Port Hardy. The wildlife was incredible all evening with salmon jumping, porpoises and eagles after those salmon along with the ever present humpbacks. Once entering Funter Bay, the breeze was perfect to carefully navigate past a few reefs and reach within 50 meters of the free state dock under sail. I was going to attempt to dock by sail, but the wind died in that last 50 meters, so the motor was used for a minute to get to the float. Grabbing our dock lines was a French couple who are on the tail end of there five year sailing trip around the world. Very inspiring to meet people like the ones I have read about in many sailing books.
June 19th. Cloud with a few sunny breaks.
Funter Bay to Auke Bay (Juneau)
Clank, clank, clank! I was awoken by the sound of halyards hitting the mast, a welcome sign of good wind. Out of the v-berth, and after rubbing the sleep out of my eyes saw beautiful ripples all over the bay. Ecstatic that today the forecaster was wrong and rather then the calm winds forecast till late afternoon, a perfect southwesterly was here. Quick breakfast, then motored to the edge of the bay where main and genoa were hoisted, filling firmly with the fresh morning breeze. Once clear of two islands named The Kittens, the main and genoa where swapped for the spinnaker, increasing our speed to a pleasant 4.5 knots, the wind on our port quarter. The wind slowly shifted to southeast which required switching the spinnaker over to the port side. Now with the lack of a spinnaker pole aboard Magie, I have figured out a way to fly the spinnaker in a controlled way by fastening a carabiner attached to the pulpit by some webbing to one foot of the sail. It works very well aside from the tricky action of switching foots which is needed if the wind shifts to the opposing side or we are changing course. Ready on the foredeck, Jill released the sheet as I began pulling the sail across. Jill noticed the fishing reel let some line out. Forgetting in the excitment to secure the spinnaker, I ran back to grab the fishing rod to find a salmon had finally found our lure. Quickly I pulled in a beautiful 8lb-10lb pink, netted it and got it into the cockpit, the fish wildly flapping about just as the spinnaker began doing the same. Getting as quickly to foredeck as I could, it was to late. The spinnaker had securely wrapped around the fore stay several times, so we dropped it and hoisted the genoa. Now sailing happily along again, I cleaned out first salmon! Sesame, wasabi powder, ginger powder, chipolte powder, salt and a bit of pepper made for a outstanding crust on the now twenty minute since caught salmon. What an amazing treat, and all while under sail. Continued excellent sailing with a good current in our favor brought us to Point Retreat where we did a 180 degree turn to round the point and headed down Stephan Passage. The current, confusing at best was still on our side despite heading the opposite direction we had been going all morning as we tacked amongst many pleasure and tour boats with a few commercial fishing vessels heading by. A humpback surfaced only twenty feet from our port side, my jaw dropping in amazement of this wonderful creature. A broad reach finished the day as we dropped sail at the entrance to the traffic filled Auke Bay. After motoring to the public docks to fill up water, we anchored in a beautiful cove across the bay, which aside from the wake of passing boats during the day is perfect.
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| Whale nostrils! |
June 20th. Sun and a few clouds
Auke Bay
The past two week with Jill have been outstanding, seeing some of the most amazing views I could ever have imagined and enjoying some very good sailing in great company. Jill and I where getting along very well but again, we decided that we are unfortunately not right for each other. With every experience in life, I learn and grow. The past six month with Jill, although sometime challenging, have had me grow as a partner and grow as an individual. We have spent some amazing time together and despite the challenges we have faced, there will always be love for her as my now friend.
Travel arrangements for Jill made, we enjoyed one last evening together aboard Magie, Jill getting set to catch the 2:30am ferry for Bellingham. We spoke of the great times we had and both expressed a desire to carry on a friendship once in the same area again. At half pass midnight, we loaded up the dinghy and motored around the corning aiming for the government dock next to the ferry terminal. The moon peeped in and out of the clouds and the water behind glowed of biolumeneces from the prop wash. Sadness filled me as we neared the terminal. It was the end of something I thought this time was going to last. I hauled Jill's heavy bags out of the dinghy onto the high commercial dock and walked up the steel gain way to shore. The night air was warm as we walked to the ferry, I now holding back tears. A hug, a kiss, and off she went down the ramp, tears now streaming down my cheeks. I know I will never forget the good times.
I walked back to the dinghy, motored back to Magie and for the first time in 50 days, went to bed with no one aboard but myself.
June 21st. Sun and warm, a very summery first day of summer!
Auke Bay
I sit outside in the sun aboard Magie, the resident harbor porpoise keeping me company while I type this. Hannah will be arriving in a few days at which point we will continue our journey, now heading south. Tracy Arm and Fords Terror should be highlights of the next leg of the trip. The route we are thinking of taking is down Stephans Passage, Fredrick sound back to Baranof Warm Springs, down the south end of Chatham Straight, around Cape Desicion into Sumner Straight, continuing south down Clarence Straight. With only small communities along that stretch, it could be sometime before I update, maybe not until Prince Rupert which I intend on being in around July 15th. Bill and Annie at God's Pocket told me there cook they had lined up for August fell through so I have agreed to head back a week early to fill the spot. The aim is to be back at Gods Pocket, which I call home, for August 1st.
