June 29, 2023 Rocky Pass, Kuiu Island and More:  Because ... Sea Otters and Bears

 Posted July 20 in Sitka, AK

Dixon NEVER looks like this!

We crossed Dixon Entrance and entered Alaska with our dear friends, Chris and Chuck (m/v Esprit d'Four) on June 9, much earlier than last year. This open water crossing can make for several long, miserable hours of dreadful swell with wind waves on top, but we lucked out with a surprisingly delightful forecast of light winds and seas "two feet or less" in NOAA weather channel parlance. The reality was even better: seas were flat and glassy on a beautiful, bright sunny day. A big, friendly Alaska welcome!

We had several fun days in Ketchikan, some excellent prawning on the north side of Cleveland Peninsula, and a quick stop in Wrangell to pick up last-minute fresh produce before heading west on Frederick Sound. Always up for something new and challenging, Captain Patrick decided we would transit the aptly named Rocky Pass, the narrow, twisty and rather shallow channel that runs between Kuiu and Kupreanof Islands.

 

Going through Rocky Pass requires solid planning, as depths and currents vary widely depending on the tide. We approach the entrance to the Pass a little early, so we drop anchor in at the bottom of the pass to await the optimal time to start.

To my delight, we find ourselves in the midst of a large raft of sea otters, eating, playing, rolling, sleeping and just paddling in the warm afternoon sunshine. I watch their antics from Tenacious's broad teak deck. they seem mildly interested in us, but cautious all the same, using their clever hind feet to paddle away if they float a little too close. 

 

 

It's time to begin this new adventure. The anchor chain rattles coming up, startling our furry neighbors. A purple starfish has hitched a ride on the chain, so I stop the windlass before it is crushed on the bow roller. I lean out over the bow pulpit (kind of through the pulpit really) and gently de-tangle its stiff arms from the chain. I wish the starfish well and return it to the sea. Another starfish saved!!

 

We enter Rocky Pass when the current is slightly against us so that we get a little resistance to steer into. Patrick planned our transit over two days. We'll do the first section this afternoon, anchor overnight and do the second tomorrow.

You can see that the course is fairly difficult. Each dot on the chart represents a turn. Each turn must be executed crisply to avoid crashing into something or going aground. Ahead lies a section of the pass called "Devil's Elbow." Oh boy. Lots to look forward to. Rocky Pass has quite a history. It has dozens of aids to navigation that mark hazardous reefs and rocks, and show where the channels runs ("Red, Right, Returning!") At one time, the Pass was considered so hazardous that the nav aids were removed to discourage use of the passage by boaters who did not have local knowledge! Eventually, the shallowest part of the channel was dredged and the nav aids updated and replaced. That's the good news. The bad news is that happened a long time ago and a good proportion of the markers are now missing or damaged. Heaven knows what happened to them. Storms? Crashes? We carefully watch both the channel and our charted course to stay safe, with our without navigation aids in place.

 

Everything is going pretty smoothly. We pass the occasional sea otter, marvel at snow-capped peaks that line our route, and use the binoculars to locate each marker ahead. We approach the Devil's Elbow saying, "This isn't so terribly bad." And that's when a big upwelling and whirlpool, probably caused by the current hitting an underwater obstruction, shoves us sideways toward a big rock reef. Right in the middle of a series of 90-degree-plus turns, difficult enough for a 50-foot vessel with a single screw and no thrusters. A couple of gasps and Patrick's steady hand on the wheel and throttle carry us safely through the Elbow. Eventually our heart rates and blood pressure return to normal. And we still have tomorrow's challenges to look forward to! 

Our overnight anchorage lies just beyond. Happily, sea otters greet us there. Cocktails with the otters tonight! And take a look at our journey tomorrow:

And yes, we made it through safely!

July 3, 2023, Appleton Cove: Morning in Alaska

I awaken early up here. It’s unavoidable, since I sleep right next to Tenacious’s pirate-ship style stern windows. It never really seems to get dark. I can read a book in the cockpit until 11pm. The light fades slowly until it’s just murky, then begins to brighten before 4am. This morning I bring my coffee and iPad up in to the cockpit to read a little Bill Bryson and see what Appleton Cove might bring to me.

Today the winds are calm and the verdant mountains are perfectly reflected in the bay. I scan the shoreline for big animals and spot a pair of black-tail deer trotting along the bank. They appear to be a doe and her fawn, grown up enough to have lost its spots. The doe, anxiously followed by her youngster, stops every little while to let her baby catch up a little, and to scan for other danger. Within about 10 minutes they have gone all the way around from one side of this large cove to the other. Where — and why — are they going? They turn and follow a shallow creek that empties into the bay, and disappear silently into the forest.

A bright line of riffled water shows me the path of a grey-mottled harbor seal silently patrolling, hoping a juicy fish will venture a little too close. A bald eagle has a solid perch on an old waterlogged tree root ball stuck in the mud just at the tide line. I’ve watched him patiently survey his domain from that vantage point for almost an hour.

 A little farther down the water line, a group of five herons stand belly deep, each absolutely still and intently watching the water before them. A sudden thrust of a yellow beak, a brief, silvery flash, and a herring is headed, after a few gulps, down a slender feathered throat. The other four herons maintain their equanimity through the tiny drama, and continue to stare down through the shallow water. 

We are alone in this stunning anchorage, surrounded by mountains cloaked in many shades of green. Duller green areas with scattered the silver tips of dead trees show old growth areas. Long vertical bare strips show where avalanches or mudslides have stripped the thin layer of soil and carried it and its trees down the mountain, revealing naked granite. ]Long vertical steaks of bright lime green growth fill in the paths of older slides with first-growth alders and shrubs. They contrast sharply with the mass of deep forest green of cedar, spruce and hemlock.

The silence is broken by the raucous shouts of a pair of ravens, seemingly having a heated conversation. A loon’s unearthly call echoes through the valleys. A group of small brown marbled meurrelets float and dive. They chat among themselves; their little quack-ey calls are surprisingly low-pitched and have many different sounds and intonations. They sound like cranky old men having a political disagreement after a few beers. Gulls carry the top notes with their high-pitched peeps and cries.

I scan the shoreline once more, hoping to see bears. The herons have spread out along the shore. The harbor seal is still on patrol. The eagle remains perched on its snag, though now, as the tide falls, he is many yards from the water’s edge. All is right with the world here in Appleton Cove. Time for a second cup of coffee!

Ell Cove and Hidden Falls, July 8, 2023: Is It Possible to Have Too Many Bears? (Hint: No.)

Boating friends have told us that Ell Cove is a tiny, charming and protected anchorage, and it's true. At first we have it all to ourselves. Then we get new arrivals. Before the day ends there a 6 other boats anchored with us. And another one comes in and decides to move on. I meet the owner of a 252-foot yacht we saw anchored elsewhere. He and his captain, in their very sexy speed boat/tender, are scoping out the cove to see if they can bring their mega-yacht in here. Certainly not today! 

 

I think the best thing about Ell Cove (named for it "L" shape) is that it's dinghy distance from the Hidden Falls fish hatchery. At the hatchery there are thousands upon thousands of pink, chum and sockeye salmon in the bay outside, darting in large schools, milling around in the shallow, and practicing their jumping skills in the water all around us. ere, they capture the spawning salmon in a pond, collect their eggs and milt, and raise the tiny fry in tanks for about a year, until they are large enough to have a good chance of making out into the ocean to grow to full size. Depending on the species and sub-species, they'll spend anywhere from one to five years at sea, returning to their natal stream to spawn again.

 

The bears know this. The sea lions know this. The eagles and ravens know. It's a huge sashimi smorgasbord that delivers itself right to the table. And everybody wants a place at this table!

 

The second best thing about Ell Cove is that Captain Patrick caught a lovely small-ish halibut not far from the anchorage. We will feast alongside the bears! (At our own table, of course!)

 

 

(Video: 1:46)

 

We watch a series of bears march out of the forest and down to the rocks near the hatchery's fish weir and ladder. Big bears, little bears. Solo bears and families. My eyes feast on the bears while they feast on the fish. First there is a single bear, big and fat and a bit slow. He wanders around the rocks and in and out of the water for a while but never does catch a fish. Next, we're delighted to see a big mama bear and her three cubs. These cubs aren't big enough to be yearlings, but they are good-sized and curious about everything.

Another mama bear comes down with her tiny dark-furred cub. This little guy reminds me of a toddler, still a little unsteady on his feet, but wanting to do it on his own! he sticks to his mother's side pretty closely. At one point he follows her in to the water while she fishes. She gets her fish and promptly climbs out onto a big rock platform. The cub grabs her leg an)d is dragged out of the water. Mom tears open the fish and shares the bounty. 

A third mom bear comes out, this one with twins. Each has a narrow white fur ring around its neck. I wonder if they will outgrow it or carry that marking into adulthood. They are hilarious to watch. (Video: 6:04)

 

Thank you bears!