Voyage of Tuffy: Juneau!
Article and photos by John Hughes
Today marks the end of the 4th week since Tuffy put-in at Port Townsend. Tonight she sits snug in a slip on G-Dock in Aurora Basin, Juneau, Alaska. We’re here in Juneau alive and, for the most part, healthy! Lots on the agenda for tomorrow—probably after some real coffee in a shop with wifi. The laundry bag is busting at the seams and, while the dinner food is holding out well, there are some incidentals and perishables in need of replenishment. Both boats are ready to change oil and filters, either here in Juneau or at or next stop in Hoonah. My last pill of Augmentin, prescribed in Ketchikan ten days ago for a sinus issue, is set out for the morning, but I’m not near 100% so should probably go see a doc tomorrow as well.
At last report we were in Petersburg and getting itchy feet—probably weather induced. If it’s going to be raining we might as well be motoring down a strait, up a channel or across a sound. We did limit our stay to the one night, figuring we were coming back this way anyway and Petersburg is prettiest with sunshine. So we pushed off with an ambitious 50-mile sail plan…but in our run to the fuel dock Snow Goose overheated again. We returned to our slips, notified the office it was just for the morning, and it was off with the floorboards—this time to replace the the last thing we could think of, the thermostat. I watched Bob’s surgical skill, to try to learn from his misfortune, and soon enough the new part was installed. Success! The new thermostat was doing its job controlling the temperature and at 1PM we cast off with hopes of still achieving our original destination (Entrance Island Cove in Hobart Bay) halfway to Tracy Arm. With the help of a favorable current we made great time cruising up the rest of Frederick Sound and half of Steven’s Passage (an area known as whale territory and yes, we did see Humpbacks). With the long days now (I have awoken at 2:30 to see twilight in the west and 3:30 to see twilight in the east) a late start is forgiven. We made our destination and tied up to the barely floating dock, with only one other nicely equipped sailboat anchored out in the middle. Wear your boots and test your next plank when you tie-up to this floating dock, but the pilings and framework are sound. It’s an easy release in the morning, and it’s a beautiful cove with quick access from and to your route.
Here I need to stray just a bit from the traditional Small Craft Advisor storytelling. Several years ago my wife and I celebrated our 40th anniversary with a cruise out of Juneau on an Irwin 72’ yawl and became fast friends with her skipper and, then very pregnant, wife. We had a most amazing week particularly cruising up Endicott Arm, spending the night in Ford’s Terror and motoring amidst the ‘bergs up to Dawe’s glacier… but the highlight was the connection we made with Jonathan and Brittney Yoors. I stayed in touch over the years and reached out when starting this trip and received this reply:
“Great! Let me know when you’re close, but things have changed a bit. We now have two children and Gypsy Wind has morphed into Alaskan Song (a 98’ wooden vessel built as a chase boat for rescuing downed pilots and sailors of sunk vessels during the war). Obviously it was converted to a luxury personal vessel after the war and with Alaska charter inquiries for motor yachts outnumbering sailboats 10 to 1… and the growing family… well, what’s a guy to do?”
I emailed again from Petersburg to learn they were anchored in Sandborn Canal, not far to the north, and we agreed to meet up in No Name Bay (Tracy Arm Cove) in two days time. When we arrived, Jonathan, Brittney, Maverick and Tucker took us up Tracy Arm to within a quarter mile of South Sawyer Glacier in Alaskan Song. I can assure you that tonnage makes a difference as the calving waves rolled easily under Alaskan Song where Tuffy would have been quite upset. Again, probably outside the normal scope for SCA readers but… if you are getting on in years and sailing the SCAMP up the Inside Passage is not in the cards—and you’re feeling flush—you can’t do better for a Southeastern Alaska charter experience than with these guys. You just may end up with some new friends for life!
However you come, do make it up Tracy Arm and live this wondrous experience. The cliffs tower several thousand feet over the water and drop a couple thousand more below it. We saw a billy goat and her kid perched above us on a sheer cliff, neither looking the least bit worried. The baby seals lie atop the icebergs with their protective mothers jumping into water to ward off intruders. The colors of the rock span the pallet, trees seemingly grow right out of that rock, and the valleys lead back to glaciated peaks soaring high above it all. You feel you’ve made a day long journey deep into the mountains (it’s 30 miles in and 30 miles out), but you’re still at sea level. If you’re lucky—and we were twice now in as many trips—you can work your way in close, where the cracking ice sounds like a bomb and the glacier releases parts of its face to send a torrent of wave and spray action. Sometimes there is just the sound of ice cracking within the glacier. Other times there’s a big cracking sound and loose debris showers off the face. Occasionally there’s a big BOOM and whole columns of ice shear off to create a big wave that pushes its way through the bergs. I’m told whales do make their way up here, although we did not see any on our trip. My advice…make it happen, life is short.
Back in No Name Bay we were treated to another most wonderful meal by Master Chef Brittney before climbing back into Bob’s tender, a John Welsford-designed sailing dinghy. I made Bob cross the bay with me to lasso a floating “bergette” and tow it back to our boats (he wasn’t pleased as the gnats were having their dinner about that time), but finally gave up after multiple failed attempts to get it secured with the painter—but not before commandeering a piece that broke off. While I could not fill my cooler with ice, we could, and did, enjoy a wee dram of single malt chilled by ice that may have been a thousand years old.
The next morning Alaskan Song led two little ducklings back into Steven’s Passage, she heading south back to Sandborn and us northward to Juneau! The forecast was for light winds but, as is often the case, up here the forecast is a “definite maybe.” The wind picked up, with it the waves, and both coming from the north across a current from the south. Spray was once again flying over the top of Tuffy as her bow met them head-on (Bob wondering at times if she was coming out). Tuffy was fine, just hitting her stride, but they were still growing so we both decided at the same time to hop into Taku Harbor for a little lunch. Taku Harbor is the site of an old cannery (1904), with little left of the cannery operation except pilings and huge metal gears and brackets. There are a couple of structures in decent shape being “renovated”, a forest service log cabin (for rent by campers) and what’s left of the house of Tiger Olsen, the original long term resident of Taku Harbor. It was also the site of Fort Durham, a Hudson Bay Co. Trading Post in 1848. It has a public dock in great shape, available to tie up at no charge and a ramp to the shore for hiking and exploring the ruins. A big but still well-protected spot, with good access to the Passage, for ducking into to take a break, like us… and then, like us, deciding to stay the night. We met many from Juneau on weekend escapes as well as some from distant points making their way through the passage… again like us. One young family, now from Colorado but keeping a sailboat in Juneau, caught a salmon on their way in just outside the entrance and shared it with us. The bay is known for its crabbing, but on this first day of commercial season there must have been a hundred pots sitting on the favored shelf.
That brings us to this morning’s route—the last twenty miles to Juneau—with a light following wind, small waves and ray upon ray of sunshine. Without question, the most spectacular mountain scenery to date with snow covered peaks left, right, and ahead. As we left Stephen’s Passage and crossed Taku Inlet (different body of water than the harbor described above) we could see high alpine peaks and a glacier that appeared to come all the way down to the water. With the bright sunny day it seemed you could reach out and touch it, but I know it’s twenty to thirty miles away at a minimum. I think it may be Hole-In-The-Wall Glacier. Gastineau Channel leads up and dead ends at Junneau, and as we plied it we were passed by a massive cruise ship. The population of Juneau, now declining at just under 30,000, was about to increase by probably more than 10%.
I’ll touch back later with tales of Glacier Bay (maybe) and the Peril Strait (you’ve got to love that name) and our passage down Chatham Strait where we hope to find and visit some more Hot Springs, see more Grizzlies and whales and explore some small towns! Until then, Ruffy on Tuffy. •SCA•
Excellent ride-along adventure
Thank you
Thanks so much for taking us along on your spectacular trip!