It is pretty. It is a view I have spent all too much time staring at lately. Four times from the islands to the mainland in a bit over a month. Four times I have run the route from Kona, to Seattle, to Portland. Six times I have bounced through SeaTac airport when I add the run from Portland to Juneau and back.
I am back home for a while. Still dealing with the slightly disconnected feeling I often get after a long vacation. Living in a totally different world for a few weeks changes the definition of normal. It is back to work tomorrow and a resumption of the normal routine of life.
Looking out from the window of Alaska flight 843 from Seattle to Kona, 8Sep2013
Scarcely a day goes by without seeing whales. Usually they are Humpbacks busily feeding in the rich Alaskan waters. But there are other whales to be seen, Orca are not common, but every trip we have seen a few. Most sightings are fairly distant, a tail on the horizon, the white plume of a blow. Close encounters will happen, a Humpback swimming by while you are anchored, a pod of Orca cruising down the same shore you are cruising up. Sometimes the whale appears when you least expect it, a sudden blow just off the bow. Cut the engine and drift, enjoying the view while giving the whale a chance to move off.
An Orca (Orcinus orca) cruising in Icy Strait, Alaska
A small chunk of ice makes a perfect resting place for Arctic Terns. Somehow these beautiful birds fit both their name and the place. Looking as if they are made of ice themselves, grey with white and black markings, these birds just fit the environment.
A group of Arctic Terns (Sterna paradisaea) resting on a small iceberg in Glacier Bay, Alaska
The planet Mercury is starting an evening apparition. The planet should become visible this week just above the fading glow of the setting Sun as a magnitude -1 object. Currently about 10° from the Sun it will rise higher each evening, reaching a maximum elongation of 25° on October 8th.
Near midsummer in Alaska the sunsets are quite late and seem to last forever. In SE Alaska we are not north of the Arctic Circle, the Sun will set, if only for a few hours. It is the long twilight that really has an effect on the psyche. A sunset that seems to last for hours. Actually, it does last for hours…
Looking north to Taylor Bay from Mite Cove on a late Alaskan evening
A small lake above a remote bay on Kruzof Island, Alaska. A mile long hike through the rain forest and muskeg to climb to the shoreline. Rocks covered with moss and dwarf tress line the northern shore, creating vignettes any master Japanese gardener would treasure.
Rocks on the shore of an unnamed lake above Kalinin Bay, Alaska
Small towns and settlements clustered along the water. With no roads, travel by water is the only way to reach these destinations in rural southeast Alaska. The sea provides either a highway or a runway for a float plane, making the docks the focal point of any town. This is where everyone arrives or departs, part of the life in this part of the world.
The 42′ Nordic Tug, Chrisara, docked in Elfin Cove, Alaska, 30 June 2004
Where are we going today? The usual question, often the answer is ill defined. It is not that we do not have a plan, we do. It is simply that experience has taught us to keep the plan loose. Weather conditions, what the wildlife is doing, what we want to do. The plan can change.
Sunset while we are under way, a few miles yet to go for our anchorageBad weather in Chatham strait? There is little pleasure to be found in pounding our way through six foot seas. Perhaps we will spend the day looking for bear in the arms of Tenakee inlet. With flexibility we can maximize the adventure with less stress.
Thus the plan is kept very general. There are some constraints, this year we have an entry permit for Glacier Bay National Park which specifies an entry date. Of course we do have to be back in Juneau in time to make the flight home. Beyond that? Just a general idea of where we plan to go and where we will stop.
The evening often sees my father and I with charts spread across the table and on the screen, planning the details of the next day and identifying a possible anchorage or two. We plan with a fair amount of experience, we have come to know these waters a bit. We plan with a backup in mind, we know that conditions will change, or we might linger when the whales or fish cooperate. Point Adolphus? How long do we want to watch whales. Funter Bay? Been there a few times… I can do that anchorage in the dark if need be.
Where are we going this year? I know… Perhaps here or there. We will just have to see. It has never failed to be fun.
A catch of halibut at Knudsen Cove Marina, Ketchikan, July 1999There are fish, there are other fish… then there are halibut. Tales are told about halibut, tales of injured fishermen… tales of sunken boats… tales that could be true. These are big fish, powerful fish, and like any other respectable sea monster they come from the deep.
Just getting the line down to them in their dark depths is a chore. Hauling them up from three hundred feet down is a bigger chore. But this is the challenge of the fisherman.
These are fish you don’t bring on deck until they are well and truly dead. Some will shoot them, but we just use a harpoon. Even then the fight is not over, but for some strange reason of halibut neurology a solid whack at the base of the tail will end it.
