Heading South through Northern BC

We're in the last two weeks of the voyage now, sitting in Port McNeill at the north end of Vancouver Island, catching up on internet.

Glenda and I spent several days in rainy Ketchikan preparing for our trip south. We were fortunate to catch the very end of Race to Alaska, participating in the celebration at the Ketchikan Yacht Club where the three last contenders were figuring out how to get home. Tim Penhallow, the last guy to finish and the person with the most time spent racing (he and a friend completed it last year too) wasn't sure how to get himself and his boat back, so we volunteered to take him and his boat in tow, bringing them to Prince Rupert where he made plans. This was one of those lucky happenstances, in finding him a wonderful companion and newfound friend. Looking forward to hooking up again at the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival in September.

From Prince Rupert, we rented a car and drove four hours inland, along gorgeous Skeena River and through magnificent mountain wilderness. We were visiting old friends from back in the late 70s. Jenny and Paul have a fabulous summer home near Hazleton, BC, spending the rest of the year in the Bay Area. Paul is a wonderful musician. The house was filled with the sonorous notes of his latest album and the patter of twelve little feet. Paul and Jenny have three cute dogs :)

After our short detour, we were ready to tackle northern BC, the most remote part of the Inside Passage. After a summer filled with friends and family, it was both sad and a welcome relief to have the boat to ourselves. We found several beautiful anchorages, then made an uneventful crossing of Queen Charlotte Sound to quaint Sointilla, a Finnish town on Malcolm Island. Back in "civilization", we went for breakfast in a coffee shop (the only one on the Island) and spent the next couple of hours talking politics and writing with several, one of whom was a published novelist who lives here part of the year and Okinawa the rest of the time.

I absolutely love the kinds of cool people we meet while traveling. As always, these random, brief friendships are what give me hope for the human race. So how do we keep that up at home, where we tend to hide ourselves away? This is just one of the questions this voyage has us asking ourselves. Is it time to change up our lives a bit? Certainly, what is happening with the election is a wake up call. If the worst happens, would we be partly responsible by not speaking out? But what, truly, can make a difference? We'll vote, of course. And my sense is that this is what is critical, maybe more than ever--getting people out to vote. Anna, a friend on Facebook, took the time to write down the 44 things she likes best about Hillary. I was struck by this, the fact that she took the time to think it through and write it down, trying to cut through the propaganda too many people seem to accept as truth. As a writer and a citizen, what is my responsibility? Should I just try to write the best possible fiction, stories which indirectly reflect upon what we're experiencing in our times? Or should I be more direct? Given the intransigence of those who support Mr. Trump, an emotional rather than rational choice in my opinion, what hope could I have of changing hearts? Tough questions, but something I'm chewing on these last couple of weeks, still mostly separated from everyday reality.

But I digress...

Yesterday, we shifted operations across the water to Port McNeill where we'll do laundry and grocery shop for the six day run down to Vancouver, where friends Jan and Dave will hop aboard, for the four day trip home via Ganges and Roche Harbor.

How could three months have gone by so quickly?

One more brief post once we get home, and then on to the next adventure.

Be well.

I love how so many Alaska fish boats are even older than me, wooden beauties that have been lovingly (in many cases) maintained, preserved and going strong. Since Amelie is one of my favorite movies, I was particularly taken by this one.

As a Board member of the Northwest Maritime Center, sponsor of Race to Alaska, I was sorry to miss most of the race this year. But at least we got to bring one of the boats, along with Tim, back from Ketchikan to Prince Rupert. Imagine sailing/rowing (mostly rowing according to Tim) 750 miles upwind in this little gem, which he built himself.

This post seems to be all about boats. Saw his buoy tender replacing a buoy in tricky Venn Passage on the way into Prince Rupert. He called me on the radio to tell me buoy 63 was currently missing. You can barely see it being lowered into the smaller boat, about to be put back in service.

Tim Penhallow, the last person to finish 2016 Race to Alaska, quickly became one of our family on the two day crossing from Ketchikan to Prince Rupert. He stayed on the boat as we drove inland to visit friends, and left these flowers for us when he departed. I'd told him about Freddie, our 1971 VW Van.

The view from Jenny and Paul's amazing house near Hazleton, BC. Not a single man-made structure is visible from their home. We felt as if we'd travelled back 200 years.

Paul jamming in his studio. We loved listening to his new album while visiting. Check him out at https://www.facebook.com/PaulMillersMusic/

Heading south in Grenville Channel. Hundreds of waterfalls are still flowing, even this late in the summer.

I dislike the aesthetics of most cruise ships, but the Disney boat is an exception. Passing us on Grenville  Channel, it's reminiscent of "real" ships of yore.

At anchor in Fly Basin in Smith Inlet. The morning was still and the tide low, exposing an almost 360 view of "totems", rocks reflected in still water.

I couldn't stop taking shots.

Turn a picture on its side, and you'll see why they are called "totems."

One last example.

Bears and More Bears!

Anan Creek is a special place in July. Salmon are returning and the bears show up to gorge themselves on a high calorie diet, fattening up for hibernation. Both black and brown bears are here, and it's amusing to see how the black bears keep out of the way of their larger cousin.

Most of these shots were taken from a blind set up by the forest service, and at times, had I been stupid enough, I could have reached out and touched the one brown bear among the blacks. Glenda called him her movie star bear, and it's true, he looked so healthy and so handsome (he's a male.)

Patti and Marty were with us, traveling from Petersburg to Wrangell, then to Ketchikan. They flew home yesterday and for the first time this summer, Glenda and I will have the boat to ourselves for the next 700 or so miles. The weather is nasty the next few days, so we'll wait here before crossing Dixon Entrance (open ocean) to Prince Rupert. There, we'll rent a car and drive up the Skeena River to visit friends Jenny and Paul in Hazleton, BC. Then back aboard and south through northern BC, picking our way down the Inside Passage. After the second ocean crossing (Queen Charlotte Sound) we'll hook up with friends Jan and Dave in Blind Channel, and will continue on home with them.

So the next (and last?) blog may be a couple of weeks away.

Until then, be happy and well.

Peter

We think this was a 3 year old cub.

The black bears spend a lot more time watching than catching fish

But every once in a while they succeed. I shot this with a slow shutter speed to give a sense of the speed of the water. This is actually a shot of the poor fish.

This was one bulky black bear

Despite their size, bears in general are remarkably agile, which they need to be in these dense forests

Here he is. "Movie Star bear" This is a young male brown bear. They grow to 1100+ pounds and 8-9 feet tall

Peekaboo Bear. He watched for a long time before coming down to join his peers in the creek. He's a black bear with cinnamon coloration.

This guy was amazingly good at fishing. I think he caught 10 fish for every one the black bears caught. Check out the claws!

He spend half the time climbing around the rocks and half the time wading with his head under water

This was with a 100mm lens! You could have gotten a picture almost this close with an iPhone

Of course there was lots of other wildlife. This raven spent quite some time talking to us.

Two black bears saying hi.

These guys were hanging around to pick up scraps

Yay. The cub got one.

What were they both looking at?

The claws were simply awesome. And their paws remarkably agile at holding the fish.

Eagles constantly swooped by.

Magnificent Glacier Bay to Petersburg

We've just arrived in Ketchikan and have officially begun our trek south.

The last three weeks have been a whirlwind on Seaducktress. First, we took Charley and Liz to Glacier Bay (we celebrated Charley's birthday in Gustavus), then Simon, Faith and our granddaughter Hala, travelled with us from Hoonah through whale territory to Petersburg, where we celebrated Simon's birthday. Finally, Marty and Patti joined us in Petersburg and on down to Ketchikan, but that  is the subject of the next post. (hint: BEARS!)

We've been checking in with the world periodically, and every time I do it, I ask myself, why bother? And so, I'm not going to comment on the craziness that seems to have taken hold of the country, except to say once again that spending time in remote areas, immersed in natural beauty, is the best antidote I know, providing the space to remind myself how the vast majority of humans on this planet are good, and that politicians and the media can only make hay sowing fear if we choose to buy in to it. So many words have been written about fear, about how most of us so rarely experience true fear (e.g. a bear charging you), or worry about the things we should worry about (using a seatbelt), and instead spend time fearful of potential (and highly unlikely) future events. As a physician, I know that living in fear if bad for your physical and emotional health, and as a student of history I know how effectively despots have used fear to bend populations to their will.

Yikes - I said I wasn't going to comment! Enough of that. On to the main show: the pictures!

We were just sitting there minding our own business when this pod of orcas passed us. I loved the starkness of their dorsal fins, slicing through he waters, demonstrating complete dominion over their environment.

About six or eight breeding pairs of sea otters were introduced back into Glacier Bay a decade ago or more ago. Practically every one we saw (and we saw a lot) had a pup on her belly, so it worked.

Charley and Liz kayaking in Blue Mouse Cove.

Charley and Liz

The weather wasn't without a bit of drama

In Bartlett Cove we decided to compete with the bears, picking blueberries from incredibly abundant bushes in the forest. This was next morning.

You're lucky I'm not subjecting you to a dozen Tufted Puffin pictures. But you gotta love this goofy little guy.

Marjorie Glacier, one of the most active in Glacier Bay. We anchored by ourselves for the night, about a half mile to the left, among the "bergie bits", listening to the thunder of the calving glacier. Scary and magnificent.

I always think of our friend Jim Whittaker when I see ice fields like this. Can't imagine climbing among the glacial seracs. This was taken with a long lens, but we could see it from our boat!

At anchor we were endlessly entertained by flocking kittiwakes. Love their black legs.

We offered assistance to a boat having mechanical trouble, and he gave us a bottle of his home made citrus IPA beer. It was outrageously good! Thanks Shenanigans. It went great with stir-fried chicken.

Sunset from our anchorage

We checked out Reed Glacier, which is one of the many receding glaciers in the park, no long calving into the ocean

A drone view from Reed Glacier out towards the rest of the park.

I've photographed this glacier-carved valley before. I never get tired of imagining the mile high wall of ice which originally carved it.

North Sandy Cove, our last anchorage in Glacier Bay

Sea Lion Rookery on South Marble island. Glenda spotted this gal scratching her ear.

All right. One more.

Simon, Hala and Boat Bear in a moment of reflection.

Tennakee Warm Springs - on our way to Petersburg

I love the delight on Hala's face as she sees a whale.

We ran into what seemed like 100 whales in Frederick Sound. Several breached near our boat, but I was slow with the camera. So you'll have to be satisfied with backlit spouts and whale backs for now.