Tuffy Enters Alaska
The voyage continues...
Article series by John Hughes
It’s hard to comprehend that just ten days have passed since our first whale sighting outside Rescue Cove, and the subsequent musings on “why?” It seems like months ago that Tuffy, and our buddy boat Snow Goose, plodded north from there ahead of a massive forecasted storm—with Dixon Entrance and crossing the Alaskan border forefront in our minds and squarely in our sights.
First stop was Buttedale. Once a bustling cannery operation, it has a sturdy dock and ramp available for free tie up with the owner’s permission, in the hopes you might invest in some in future development of Buttedale. Then as the storm forecast was pushed back, on to Bishop Bay, the site of a natural hot springs. This BC jewel was developed just right, with incredible imagination, care and effort. It too has a nice dock and ramp for boats fortunate enough to secure space there, and for the tenders of those anchoring out in the beautiful and protected end of this inlet. A network of boardwalks helps negotiate moving about terrain more suitable for bears than humans. The facilities include the minimalist hot springs complex, a composting toilet structure, and tent platforms for camping up off the ground a ways from the dock. There is a lock box for making voluntary contributions (please do). The effort and creativity that went into this creation, and the maintenance of it, deserves all our support. A must stop for any traveler up this way.
As the storm’s arrival was pushed back yet again, we decided to run for Lowe’s Inlet, and its protected inner anchorage, “Nettle Basin.” The passage was smooth for the most part, excepting two points of land we needed to round—Money Point, on Hawksberry Island, and Waterman Point, on a mainland peninsula. The storm raging out in Queen Charlottes’ waters was sending rain, waves and wind deep into the waters these two points poke out into. We took a needed breather by ducking in behind Promise Island, which works with the mainland to create Hartley Bay and offer shelter. A small village across the bay provided the welcomed bonus of cell coverage, so as we bobbed in relative comfort, we called our families, caught up on our emails and discovered the world has continued to spin as it should without our input. Making the second point we were glad to see the rain diminish as we entered Nettle Basin greeted by spectacular Verney Falls crashing into the basin. That night the storm returned with vengeance, but with just rain in our protected harbor. Nettle Basin, remember it, when the salmon are running a little later in the year you can anchor right up on the edge of Verney Falls and watch multiple bears gather the bounty of the Pacific Northwest.
Pushing on to Prince Rupert the next day we headed north up Greenville Channel, a 45-mile straight piece of water running, on our day, directly downwind. That’s a lot of fetch, so once again we were surfing on growing waves and accelerating to 9+ knots. Before reaching Prince Rupert we braced for even larger seas as we entered and area where multiple channels come together, but were pleasantly surprised when conditions improved and settled. Current was so favorable this day that, despite 60-nautical miles under the keel, we pulled into the Prince Rupert Royal Yacht Club by 3:30 PM. We watered and fed the horses, did some laundry, took a shower and grabbed a cheeseburger. With south winds predicted to run along a northerly current, and forecasted to change the following day, we wanted to take on the Dixon Entrance crossing the very next day… another long one at 50+ miles, to our targeted Foggy Bay, Alaska.
Our day began with full sun, no wind, and a favorable current. The first half of the crossing was as calm as a mill pond, and for those who appreciate omens, we saw our first grizzly (Coastal Brown Bear actually) early in our backdoor exit from Prince Rupert. As we made headway across the opening, the swells did increase, probably to 2 meters by the end, but they were easy rollers and except for a short while,when the wind increased across them.
Having used the CBP app in Prince Rupert we were already cleared for entry back into the US and, somewhere out in those swells, we returned to our home country. Our first night in Alaska was spent in Foggy Bay which, after navigating a narrow snake of a passage, offers a very protected anchorage and beautiful inner sanctum. It looked like perfect bear country, and Bob had seen them in there before, but not for us on this stay.
The next day the cursed wind against current (it had switched to the north and this time right on our nose) made for as bumpy a passage as we have experienced anywhere, but we made for Ketchikan with spray flying over the cabin top. It backed off a little when we got beyond Behm Channel’s open water influence, but then built back again to cause turbulent waters as we were coming right into town. A departing cruise ship provided some short-term relief to wind and sea as it passed by us in the narrow channel. Two days at the slip gave us a chance to wash the salt off our boats, pick up some essential provisions, explore all around town and, for me, to make a stop at the hospital to get some Augmentin to fight off a sinus infection I’ve been suffering through this whole time.
Meyer’s Chuck… an amazing little town of mostly artistic Alaskans (I think there was a population of 20 on last count), was our next stopover. The community appears to be making a resurgence of sorts as there are new houses on some of the islands, and even several houses in town under construction. One local resident told me, “Yeah, maybe in the last couple of years there’s been some building.” There is no store, aside from an empty gallery we found in the woods. No restaurant and no business, aside from the gal who bakes cinnamon rolls and brings them to the dock at 7:30 in the morning (and maybe a local lumber and angling club that has a pretty nifty plank saw).
The City of Wrangell evidently built the wonderful dock for Meyer’s Chuck—which is somehow a part of Wrangell although a long way from it—and now, travelers plying the Inside Passage can land in this quaint town to walk its forested trails. Watch for unexpected artistic creations, like a huge wire spider web spun between the trees, complete with rusting spider, and witness the cabins literally dissolving into the hillside next to the new ones being erected. And be sure to order up some cinnamon buns for an early morning departure. Oh, one more thing if you come to visit—there’s an unmarked rock in the entrance (actually it is marked on the chart, but two boats hit it yesterday, so not very well). In fact it seems so many people hit it that there’s a special “grid” structure made of stout lumber (manufactured by the angling club no doubt) that you can pull into at high tide, tie off to the verticals, and come to rest on the horizontals as the tide recedes. If you’re quick you can get your props switched out before the water returns.
In leaving Meyer’s Chuck we encountered our first major mechanical challenge. Snow Goose had been running hot and it was getting worse. As I left the entrance to Meyer Chuck, avoiding the aforementioned unmarked rock, I met Bob’s bow coming back in. “Overheating” came his voice through the scratchy Motorola we use to stay off the VHF airwaves. It was back to the dock to initiate the process of elimination to discover cause. The seawater screen was removed and in fact had a bunch of little “life forms” in there—enough to conceivably inhibit good water flow (and definitely enough for me to check mine to discover them there too). But after cleaning and testing we determined that wasn’t the issue. Bob decided it had to be the impeller, so got right to it. About an hour later we ceremonially pulled the cap and… darn, it looks perfect. He put a new one in anyway, but in the process noticed the intake hose, which was installed around another hose, looked to have developed a bit of a kink, enough to restrict the amount of water flowing through it. With spare hoses aboard it was soon replaced and after preliminary testing the engine maintained normal temperatures. Six hours past our planned departure we again avoided the unmarked rock. It was still today, and we were still departing!
On departure we entered into a much angrier Clarence Strait. But our good fortune continued in that the trifecta of wind, waves and current were all from the south, and we were, of course, going north—but why must it be so much of all three? As long as you’re up for a good fight you can handle a lot more wind and sea traveling with the current than bashing against any or, in some cases, all three of these forces. A pair of whales surfaced just outside, seeing us off with their now signature fin slap and tail wave, so on we went with their blessing. Even with the late start we made it more than halfway to Wrangell Narrows, close enough that the balance to Petersburg was assured the next day, and we discovered another beautiful protected cove. Two boats rafted up in soft Kindergarten Bay, awaiting a bear strolling out of the woods. How does he know the salmon aren’t running yet… shouldn’t he check? After navigating a narrow snake of a passage that follows passage through a really well-disguised entrance, a completely protected and serene anchorage emerges, surely as pretty and tranquil as any we have found. We were positioned for a run to and through Wrangell Narrows to Petersburg…. which means another shower is in my future.
Update: Secure in a North Harbor Petersburg slip tonight, our plans for a few days of rest and regrouping are already giving way to the thought of quick showers, topping off the fuel, and pointing north in hopes of making Tracy Arm Entrance Cove by Thursday night. Friday is predicted to be a beautiful day, and how better to spend it than transiting a long iceberg-strewn fjord that culminates in a calving glacier. Will it come to pass? Stay tuned!
—John Hughes MV-Tuffy •SCA•
It was getting late, thanks for the heads up, sorry.
That should be Wrangell, not Wrangle.... Wish I was up there again; those were our home waters until life got in the way. Thanks for taking us along!