Salmon fishing is real work, baiting the lines, setting up and dropping the downriggers, constant vigilance as you troll up and down the shore. Kelp and other flotsam gets fouled in the lines, the hooks need re-baiting often, up and down again with the downriggers with their heavy lead balls.
Halibut fishing is more my style, find a likely place, drop the anchor, drop in the pole, sit back and crack a drink and enjoy the scenery while you wait for the fish to bite. Given the choice of eating halibut or salmon I will take the halibut! Nothing against salmon, it is pretty good, just that halibut is better.
Poles in the water while fishing for halibut in Holkham Bay beneath Sumdum Glacier, Alaska
A black bear swimming Clover Pass near Ketchikan, AlaskaUh… Dan… That log in the water has ears.
I had the binoculars and just happened to glance at the object in the water, just as Dan had changed course to avoid it. Logs are a regular navigation hazard in these waters, everyone keeps a sharp lookout ahead.
It can’t be… it is… it’s a bear.
But this channel has got to be a mile wide!
It was, we used the GPS and navigation computer to check, 1.1 miles across, assuming a straight course. We watched that bear swim the last 50 yards and climb out of the water. That was one exhausted black bear.
The plan is to catch halibut. This involves sending heavy hooked and baited line to the bottom, weighted with a heavy lead ball. When bottom is felt the line is brought back up a few feet to hang just above the seabed waiting for halibut to take the bait. There are a number of other fish that inhabit the bottom and will also go for the bait. Some of these fish are desirable catches, pacific cod, rockfish or golden eye are all good eating.
There are a couple you don’t want, starry flounder or the sculpins! Flounder are not much of a problem, but the sculpins are something else entirely. We caught a couple of these really ugly fish that day. All mouth and head, big eyes and no body, all spines and teeth. Not easy to get off the line, the hook is in that impressive mouth!
A sculpin (Hemitripterus bolini?) hooked on halibut gear in Holkham Bay
It is a quiet place today, a favorite anchorage near Juneau for local sportsman and boaters, rimmed with a dozen homes and cabins. Funter Bay is a convenient place to stop and spend the night for anyone coming into or out of Juneau and Auke Bay. No surprise that we found ourselves using this safe anchorage no less than four times over two weeks. As I have come to find, it is more than a convenient harbor, it is also a very interesting place…
At the beginning of the 20th century, Funter Bay was home to a large cannery and mining operations. Photos from 1900 to 1930 show a bay alive with activity, with substantial buildings supporting the mine and cannery, a post office, church and everything else one would expect in a thriving community. The area has quite a history with tales of industry and tragedy. The stories are a vignette of Alaskan history that typifies the lives of those who came to this place generations ago.
Even with a quick exploration of the area, signs of the past are scattered about to catch an observant eye and inquisitive mind. Pilings on the shoreline, unnatural objects along the beach. Going ashore and poking about soon reveals that the forest conceals even more evidence that this bay looked much different in the past.
Barges used by the Thlinket Packing Co. of Funter Bay decaying in the woods.Just behind the treeline of Coot Cove are four barges, well built working vessels now decaying in the woods. the decks are collapsing and spruce trees grow through the frames. Remains of a skid ramp and heavy cables secured to large tree stumps show how they came to rest here well above the tideline. Two large motors and winch gear are rusting away on the uppermost barge.
On the northern shore of Coot Cove there is the wreckage of a substantial vessel. At low tide a large engine betrays the wreck. On a previous visit I had motored around the engine with our launch, taking a few photographs of a large four cylinder diesel engine protruding from the water. This year was the first time I had had an opportunity to examine the wreckage more closely, low tide had completely exposed the wreck to examination. I could walk where I had previously floated.
Update 25Feb2015: Received an email from a historian at the Alaska Department of Natural Resources. They believe the wreck is the Anna Helen, a tugboat that burned from a gasoline explosion caused by an engine backfire on October 22, 1928.
Update 1May2015: Found a great website by Gabe Emerson who grew up in Funter Bay. He has done some research on the various wrecks, posting the information to his blog. His guess is the tugboat Morzhovoi, an 84 foot diesel vessel owned at one time by the Thlinket Cannery. He also notes that the Anna Baron sank near Swanson Harbor.
Remains of a tugboat on the shore of Funter Bay, possibly the cannery tender Anna BarronA closer examination of the wreck tells much about the vessel and how she met her end. Charred timbers and piles of metal fittings in the bilge shows she burned to the waterline, most likely ending up on the beach as she burned.
Given the winch gear, the large engine and the size of the vessel it is clear that this was some sort of tugboat, equipped to handle barges similar to those found nearby in the woods. She was also extravagantly equipped with electrical gear, several generators, motors and heavy wiring feature among the wreckage. There are also more mundane items, a metal sink and silverware testify to a comfortable existence for the crew. A radiator shows that she was heated, a nice feature in Alaskan waters.
In an attempt to learn more about the tug I did a little research. It did not take long to find more information on Funter Bay. Historical photos in several online archives featured images of the “Thlinket Packing Co.”, with photos of a large cannery and associated fish-traps. “Thlinket” is obviously an alternate spelling used at the time to refer to the local Tlingit people native to the region. Other photos show a Tlingit village in Funter Bay and note that they also worked in the cannery.
The cannery tender Anna Baron moving barges of fish in Funter Bay, image by Case and Draper, Aug 2, 1907, from the Alaska State Library Historical CollectionThe historical photos came with a surprise… Images of a tugboat working as a cannery tender, moving barges of salmon from the fish-traps to the cannery. The tug, the Anna Barron, looks to be an exact match for the wreckage found on the north shore of Coot Cove. One particular photo shows the vessel with two barge loads of fish, close to where we had anchored for the night, a few hundred yards from the current location of the wreckage.
Based on the photos I tentatively ID the wreck as the Anna Barron. A vessel of the right size, type and in the correct historical context. If this is the Anna Barron, she lies just across the cove from the barges that she spent decades shuttling to and from the fish-traps along Chatham Strait and Admiralty Island. One has to wonder about her story… How did she end up burned and sunk in the bay? An accident? Deliberately burned when she was too worn to be used or sold?
There is a problem in identifying the wreckage as the Anna Barron… The engine mounted to the hull is produced by a company that was started in 1916, yet the Anna Barron is shown in 1907 photographs. It is possible the engine now in the wreck is not her original engine, but was a refit somewhere during her working life. A refit is not out of the question. A 1907 photo identifiers the Anna as a steamer, typical propulsion for a vessel at the turn of the century. It may have been desirable to refit the tug for diesel with the increased power and reduced maintenance costs offered by the then new technology.
No evidence in hand to prove the case. It may be that the vessel wrecked in Coot Cove is simply some other boat. There is a second candidate, the Barron F., a 75ft cannery tender. Information with this vessel also specifies a different engine, and seventy five feet appears to be somewhat longer than the wreck on the beach.
The barges in the woods are almost certainly those seen in the photographs. They are an exact match in size, shape, construction, including the posts on the decks used to contain the cargo of fish. A reasonable guess is that they were pulled up on the shore for protection from the elements through the winter, ready for next year’s salmon season. A season that never came with the closing of the cannery. They lie forgotten and decaying where they were left.
Funter Bay was gradually abandoned, the mines and cannery closed. The area never becoming a thriving settlement like nearby Juneau or Hoonah. With the land in private hands, is was not added to the holdings of the U.S Forest Service or an Indian corporation. The bay is now dotted with private homes and vacation cabins. As one of the best anchorages near Juneau there are usually a dozen or so boats swaying at anchor each night during the summer season. You have to look a little to see the signs of a rich history, but they are there and fun to explore.
The Juneau Ice Fields from a float plane air tourTouring around a sunny Juneau you might not suspect that something completely different lies above the city. But here and there you can see hints. Atop the ridge that lies behind the city you can see ice, suggesting that what lies beyond Juneau is something a little more wild. Look above the Costco and there is a little glacier atop the ridge. Just a bit further north and you will find the Mendenhall Glacier, the terminus of a river of ice a mile wide with a photogenic lake at the face.
Take a plane or helicopter above the high ridge that rises above the city and you find ice, thousands of cubic kilometers of ice. The Juneau Ice Field is 140km (86miles) north to south and stretches almost 90km (55miles) into Canada. In places it is over 1400m (4600ft) thick, a sheet of ice that remains from a time when the world was colder.
When visiting Juneau it is worth the time to see this place. An air tour from town climbs over the ridge an into another world. Once over the ice the scenery is dramatically stark, ice everywhere, with bare rock and rugged mountain peaks punctuating the white. You would think you are over Antarctica, indeed the Juneau Ice Field has stood in for the south pole in a few movies.
There are two cities of Juneau, Alaska. This is a city that has come to depend heavily on the tourist trade. Like many other places that have heavy tourist traffic, a second economy springs up, devoted to servicing the visitors.
Looking down Franklin Street in downtown Juneau on a quiet day, without the cruse ship crowdsIn Juneau the tourists arrive primarily by cruise ship, the floating cities arrive in the morning at the dock along the waterfront that are built specifically to handle these enormous ships. Two to four ships per day are normally present during the height of the summer season, each potentially debarking thousands of people who either head out to one of several available excursions, or simply shop in the waterfront shopping district.
The result is a waterfront district of shops specifically designed to service this trade. Dozens upon dozens of small shops line the streets, each very different, each somewhat the same. Without the cruise ships none of this would exist.The streets are crowded with people and the sidewalks jammed, groups and couples stroll from shop to shop to look at everything from stuffed Eskimo dolls to diamond and ivory jewelry.
Away from the docks the shops thin, until a few blocks back from the waterfront another Juneau can be found. This city exists to service the local population. In Juneau the business is that of state government, timber and fishing. In places like the Hawai’i, where the tourists roam in rental cars the impact of tourism is spread out somewhat. In Juneau, where most simply walk from the ships, the tourist part of the city is more concentrated and the difference very stark.
There are odd days when no cruise ship comes in. On those days the waterfront shops are quiet, many do not even open, choosing to take those days off. Everyone knows when the ships will be coming in, the schedule is published in the local paper. For those who work the waterfront district, life revolves around the cruise schedule, for a few months at least. When the cold weather comes the ships depart for warmer waters and life slows to a less frenetic pace.
A massive river of ice flowing down from the high ice fields above the city. When visiting Juneau go visit the glacier, only a few minutes drive from the airport and worth the visit. if you have the time and can make the arrangements take an air tour of the ice field. An fantastic flight, cross the ridge above the city and you are over the Juneau Ice Field, an enormous expanse of ice punctuated by spires of rock. From below there are only hints of the ice, from the air it becomes an unworldly experience.
Mendenhall Glacier flowing into the lake of the same name, Juneau, Alaska
A small cruise vessel enters Icy Straight en route to Glacier BayOn approach to Juneau we encountered something I had never experienced before, a delay in landing for something other than weather. Indeed, the weather was beautiful, not a cloud to be seen over the spectacular Alaska scenery for the last hundred miles as we flew along the coast.
As we approached the city the pilot announced that another flight was in the way and we would have to wait before landing. As a result we circled a couple times over the entrance to Icy Straight and Swanson Harbor. I sat at the window enjoying the view as Deb slept on my shoulder. The water below looks wonderful, it is going to be tough to wait a day until we leave harbor.
