Lessons Learned

Living room view at Decourcy Island today.

We’re back at Decourcy Island for about 2 weeks. The weather is still lovely, mostly around 60 to 70 degrees F. It has rained a few times, enough to keep the air clear of wildfire smoke. I even went in the water a couple of times! We’ve enjoyed hanging and reconnecting with our neighbors. And I'll admit it. It's nice to sleep in a real bed again.

FINAL STATS

Hours underway: 330

Miles: 2563 

Days: 77

Rainy days: about 10

This was a trip of a lifetime. The animals, the glacier-cut mountains...the beautiful color variations of the water and sea states... connecting with the boating community, including professional fishermen (and women)...friendly locals, including welcoming First Nations people who gave us new perspectives...quiet sunsets in lonesome beaches and coves...dance parties in the pilot house and chocolate birthday cake made in the BBQ. It was about trusting our experience and the ability to learn new skills. 

LESSONS LEARNED

Looking back, there are a few aspects of the trip North that surprised us or that we were unsure of when we left: 

- Mike said, “I didn't know you were so adventurous! You kept me going.” I said, “I was so happy to see you unwinding more and more each week. I haven't seen you this relaxed since college.”

- A 32 ft. boat was large enough, even though we were among the smallest boats doing this type of trip. However, we didn't like having to store bulky items like crab pots, ropes, buckets, etc. on the decks. It didn't look ship-shape. Also, using a dorm-sized fridge was frustrating.

- Yes, Mike and I got along fine for being together so much. Sometimes I would listen to books via earbuds and Mike would just listen to his thoughts. We had a routine and division of labor which worked out well. We never got sick of Cribbage, Dominoes, and NYT Crosswords.

- Using Starlink was a game changer. Being connected to the Internet at anchor was fun and added to our ability to unwind. We streamed Foundation, and all the newer Star Trek shows.

- While nothing dramatic broke along the way (1), and we didn't need extra parts (2), it was a good feeling to be super-prepared. Also, Mike's pre-work and maintenance along the way likely paid off.

- No regrets for towing a heavy dinghy. We used the RIB often. Our heavy-duty bridle and oversized hardware were a good choice. 

- Mike will not have a second career trimming ladies' hair. I won't have a second career managing boat electronics. But there is always hope and more chances to practice!

- Currents were less predictable than we thought. The government issues a 2-inch thick “Tides & Currents” guide. We found that it was a good guide, but actually accurate perhaps half the time. Sometimes currents were running opposite of expected, or stronger or weaker. The slack predictions for important narrows were accurate, however. Current did what it needed to do for various depths, turns, and parts of a channel. Cruising along the edge of a straight channel could sometimes give us a push when the center of the channel was running against us.

- Taking one day at a time is a reliable plan to meet an incredible goal, just as they say.

WHAT'S NEXT

We are now repacking for an extended leave from Decourcy. Before we start The Great Loop, we will drop off Unwine’d with a boat broker in Anacortes, WA. Then we will visit friends and family in Washington, Oregon, California, and Arizona. We still own one car, our beloved Ford F150. Picture everything we want with us for over a year packed in the back...like clothes and tools..for the next boat adventure!

We are narrowing down our must-have features for the next boat. (3) It will be bigger. It will have below-deck storage, a good-sized fridge and hardwood floors. And, it will have a walk-around bed and a second stateroom. Mike will have excellent access in the engine compartment.

Shopping for the next boat is the fun part, people!

YOUR PART IN OUR NEXT ADVENTURE

The next email from us in a few months will be a spreadsheet of our potential stops along the Loop route and dates. Some of you have asked to meet us along the way. The spreadsheet will be a sort of sign-up sheet for you. Please look out for it.

So, this is the last chapter of this travelogue. I will likely take it up again when we start The Great Loop. 

Close-up of photo on the left side of the living room pic. We are celebrating our 30-year anniversary in October. This was taken at Oktoberfest in Munich in 1992.

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) I dropped a glass jar on my portable induction burner in the second week, splitting the top in two. Ugh. I ordered a new one and picked it up 2 weeks later in Ketchikan. It turns out that not many distributors ship to Alaska. And, Amazon does not have 2-day shipping to Alaska. The induction burner was an excellent cooking tool.

(2) Mike changed the engine and reduction gear oil 3 times, and generator once during the trip.

(3) We are thinking of a 46’ to 48’ Grand Banks or something similar. We may need to be flexible. Our choices are limited to a <5’ draft and less than 17.5’ height.  We’d prefer a (slow) trawler over a fast motor yacht; one engine instead of two. Lower maintenance and diesel fuel costs.

Back in B.C.

Sunrise behind us as we set off to cross Dixon Entrance. 

FINAL DAYS OF S.E. ALASKA

Since I last posted we have been ambling South, as planned. We’ve discovered that the yacht-y crowds have dwindled. We’re bringing in the rear. The small communities with seasonal stores have let their vegetable stocks dwindle. By this time, we saw one other recreational boat a day while we’re underway. 

When our anchoring and marinas have synced, we have been meeting up with new boat-y friends, which is a great break from Mike looking at Elaine, looking at Mike, in the same pilot house, on the same boat. We’ve learned about about their home bases, Olympia, WA and Poulsbo, WA. We’re going to keep asking questions along these lines to people we meet. We will eventually need to nest somewhere during 6 months of the year in the U.S. 

NORTH COAST OF B.C.

We crossed around Dixon Entrance, piloting from Ketchikan, AK (U.S.) back to Prince Rupert, B.C., (Canada). By waiting an extra day or so to optimize weather, we were able to minimize swells. I didn’t need to Dramamine it.(1) 

Again, we cruised down long, narrow (about .25 mile/.4 km wide) channels that seem too straight to be natural. These are the same inside passage highways we took going North. Again, we watch beautiful, dense, green fir trees rising up moderately tall mountains with occasional waterfalls dropping back down, as we move through the water. We see fewer whales and sea otters. This makes a sighting more special. We sense our trip is coming to an end.

We’ve stayed in so many coves over these last few weeks. Each one was uniquely magical, often enveloped in layers of lacy fog. To keep things short, I’ve created a laundry list of stays below.

- Baker Inlet, anchor. Winding narrow, blind opening to a large inlet surrounded by tall, wooded cliffs.

Baker Inlet—dead calm, reflection of lacy, layered fog.

- Hartley Bay, marina. First Nations community with wooden boardwalks for roads—all had ATVs or golf carts to scoot around.

- Bishop Springs Provincial Marine Park. Natural hot springs with manmade, concrete tubs overlooking the bay. Lots of cheerful locals on weekend family trips. 

- Bottleneck Inlet, anchor. Same beautiful, convenient stop we stayed at on the way North, along a very long passage.

…At this point we watched weather forecasts to time our final Cape Caution crossing with minimal swell…

- Shearwater, marina. We returned to this First Nations village to get fuel.

- Codeville Bay, anchor.

We finally did some crabbing. Dinner: dungeness crab.

- Pruth Bay, anchor. We returned to the same island — the Haikai Institute with great beaches. Here’s a drone video of us walking (near bottom of screen).

One of the boardwalks on walk to the North beach at Haikai Island.

- Fury Cove, anchor.

Fury Cove—Mike’s drone shot of boats waiting for favorable tide the next morning. 

…Eight hour transit from Fury Cove, around Cape Caution, then down protected waters to our next one-nighter anchorage in Claydon Bay, in “The Broughton’s” islands. In the most dramatic parts we experienced a 5 foot swell with 2 foot wind waves. I decided before we left to take Dramamine, on top of my Relief Band, and I felt fine. This much up and down and back and forth is not uncomfortable or scary in our boat, but it demands our attention while underway. 

THE BROUGHTONS

- Claydon Bay, anchor.

- Viner Inlet, anchor. We left for Echo Bay, a small community, for a worthwhile afternoon at the locally famous Billy’s Museum. Billy is a retired fisherman who has a mighty collection of First Nations artifacts, old equipment, shells and even bottles. He’s an encyclopedia of local stories.

- Burial Cove, anchor. Not at all spooky, by the way. We departed as soon as it was light to make our way down infamous Johnstone Strait. It’s a wide body of water that is part of all Inside Passage journeys. It’s notorious for larger waves due to prevailing winds opposing currents. We found it fairly glassy, and we timed our passage with a flood, to give our slow boat a slight push. 

DESOLATION SOUND

- Campbell River, marina. It was time for a final provisioning, laundry and a beer at their pub at this large town. We ruminated on what we wanted to do with our final cruising days. Desolation Sound was a must—but it was starting to get a lot of wildfire smoke from the fires hundreds of miles East. We also started talking about logistics for selling Unwine’d and where we’d go next on our way to buying a boat for The Great Loop. 

- Roscoe Bay, Desolation Sound, anchor. Definitely not desolated—about 20 boats anchored as this is a day’s cruise from Vancouver. Pleasant afternoon at the freshwater lake, inland.

- Melanie Cove, Desolation Sound, anchor. Another pleasant afternoon at their freshwater lake. Lots of boaters from Vancouver and Seattle. Impromptu, enjoyable concert by a super-talented guitar-playing boater in the evening. We joined about 30 dinghy’s surrounding the performer’s stern deck.

Unwin Lake at Desolation Sound. That’s me, happily floating in the fresh water.

SUNSHINE COAST

We intended to return to Princess Louisa Inlet, where we last went in 1990’s. It would have been, a 2-day, out-of-the-way trek. This is a sort of Mecca for Northwest boaters because of its beauty, and the somewhat arduous journey it requires. In order to do this, we had to start from the small community of Egmont, which already took us 7 hours to get there. However, the Egmont marina was full and there were no nearby comfortable anchorages. So sadly, we scrapped our plans for Mecca. Perhaps we go there in a few years.

- Pender Harbor, anchor. This is a large town, but we really didn’t need to provision, get fuel or water, so we just dingy’d to shore for a dinner. It was also a protected spot to endure a night-long lightening storm. Don’t you worry—we were cozy inside Unwine’d. It wasn’t terribly windy, either. 

- Smuggler Cove Provincial Marine Park, anchor.

WHAT’S NEXT

We’re going to be tourists at Pirate’s Cove Provincial Marine Park, Decourcy Island, a.k.a. Home Sweet Home!

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) I’m using something new: a Relief Band. So far, I’m a convert, although I don’t think it will get me through the biggest swell days. I definitely recommend it for anyone who has to deal with nausea, for whatever reason. 

Natural Warm Springs & Foggy Day

 

Beguiling boardwalk that slices through Baranof Warm Springs, to upper cabins, the lake and the natural hot springs. 

BARANOF HOT SPRINGS

The commonality among Baranof Warm Springs residents is that they are clean. Like 1-3 baths-a-day, clean. In addition, their defining qualities are that they are welcoming and industrious. 

We have been looking forward to seeing Mike’s tennis buddy’s cabin and visiting his community for a while. It was a little difficult to plan because we could only estimate the window that we could arrive. (1) Mike’s buddy, Fenton, had to plan when to fly in from California. Obviously, it all worked out, because we got to experience all that Baranof Warm Springs has to offer.

This was my first visit to a hot springs. I wasn’t sure what to expect. First of all, there is an enormous waterfall that skirts one side of the community. It originates at a lake about a mile from the bay. 

Fenton led us on the wood boardwalk up towards the lake, until the boardwalk turned into an occasional wood plank. 

A sign marks a fork in the trail: left to the springs, right to the lake. We first visited the natural springs. We’re not sure how hot they were, but it was too hot for me. We know other people love it, however. Then we pushed on to the lovely lake. 

Mike and Fenton at the hot springs hole. It’s probably been there for over 100 years, lined with rocks. Behind it is the cold, rushing water of the top of the waterfall.

At the peaceful, clear lake, beyond the hot springs. Not a soul in sight.

Back at the community we saw the products of their industry. Probably miles of tubing delivered hot and cold water to each cabin. Each cabin also has all the normal trappings of off-grid living, like we have at Decourcy. Each of their charming cabins has a unique view of the cove. 

The shared boardwalk in front of the waterfront cabins at Baranof Warm Springs.

We happened to be there a day of a party, so we were able to learn more about some of their origin stories. Some were from the town of Sitka, which is directly West, on the opposite side of Baranof Island. There is a busy fishing lodge at Baranof. It’s obvious they take pride their community and their little piece of paradise. (2)

The community also built a bathhouse with 3 private tub rooms so that visitors can soak away the griminess and aches of their trips to get there. They provided this from their own pockets. They don’t charge a fee, although they have a donation box. Fenton told us about the recent work they did on the bathhouse, in addition to recent work on his property and his neighbors’. Their signage, walkways and bathhouse make visitors feel wanted and safe.

The community-built 3-room bathhouse (with the greenish curtains in front of each). It’s along a boardwalk that encircles the cove. (3)

While I’m no rule-follower, I did follow these! I left it cleaner than I found it. And it was very clean when I found it.

Your view into 2 of the bathing rooms. Each tub has a controllable hot and cold spigot. No windows to impair your view. And no one lives on the other side of the cove.

The small and seasonal community of Baranof Hot Springs reminded me a bit of Decourcy Island. It’s a tight knit group of people who are very resourceful. One big difference is that the residents live peacefully alongside brown, hairy residents—the bears. 

FOGGY BOATING

After our sojourn in Baranof Warm Springs, we really wanted to visit Sitka, which we heard and read about, but decided that would add about 6 long days to our entire trip, so we continued South, back towards British Columbia. 

We stayed in Alaska-beautiful inlets for a couple nights (4) until our good luck with the weather began to change. As we headed out for a 4-hour cruise to little Petersburg, we immediately hit fog. We know from experience that fog can hang low, hang high, be a strip across your path or settle in across a whole strait. We had no way of knowing what we were in for.

The view of fog as we approached the exit of the inlet we just stayed overnight in. Picture it flowing and ethereal.

We carefully planned for fog, with technology solutions. We also have some experience in San Francisco Bay with using the technology to get us through safely. It’s crucial to avoid other boats, especially cruise ships, who can’t change direction or stop for a boat like us. 

The technology.
On the left, 2 iPads which have zoom-in-able and out-able charts (aka a chartplotter). We will always know our position. On the right is the radar. This is a primary way we identify other boats and land. No matter how foggy it gets, we have these eye-enhancing tools.

The wildcard in this case is colliding with humpback whales. For the last few weeks we saw whales either singly or in groups every hour or so. We often took zig-zagging paths to avoid them. No technology can “see” them for us. It’s not just uncool to hurt a humpy. A bump can also damage our boat, even in a debilitating way. This was probably the most dangerous situation we had been in during this entire trip. 

Foggy view directly in front. We couldn’t even estimate how far ahead we could see. The water reflected the shade of grey so there was no horizon. At one point, we said now we understood why men go mad in the fog. And think you can fall off the Earth.

View out the port side door. It was glassy calm, so the only reflection was of fog. We could see blue sky above, which was a little frustrating. There was no way to see humpback whales in this soup.

After about 2 hours of fog at 7 mph, the fog magically parted. We came through and saw snowcapped Alaskan mountains, blue waters and felt the sunshine. 

Within minutes we saw an amazing sight: dozens of humpback spouts about 1-2 miles Southwest of us, between us and shoreline. What joy it was to be out of monotonous, dangerous fog and to witness what looked like a miracle. After being so careful, we deviated towards the humpbacks, giving them plenty of room, to watch their romps and tricks. Mike caught much of this on video.

Do humpbacks prefer to be out of the fog too? We learned that while orcas use sonar like other marine mammals, humpbacks use sight. So there might be some truth to this.

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) Between Juneau and Baranof Warm Springs we had a some great brushes with nature. Here’s a video Mike took of yours truly running Nautica outside of Ell Cove. We just caught a Coho salmon and wanted to check out the waterfall. 

(2) Baranof Warm Springs’ history echos much of the history of other communities in Southeast Alaska. After the native people were reduced in number, settlers moved in during the late 1800s with the Alaska Klondike gold rush, then with the growth of the timber industry and then with the growth of Pacific canneries. After that, many communities became ghost towns until locals cleared out plots and rebuilt quant cabins and fishing lodges. At one time, Baranof Warm Springs had perhaps twice as many people and cabins there and there was a bridge over the waterfalls. 

(3) Below the boardwalk and dock were multitudes of salmon fry. Mike took this video of a seal swimming through the school, having a snack. 

(4) In one of the inlets, Pybus Bay, we had incredible bear encounters. At an opportune moment, we were scanning the shore a noticed rocks moving. It was 3 cubs and big bear.  They hung out in the creek outlet for a while. Mike managed to pull out his drone and got some overhead bear footage here. Later on, we also saw a momma bear with two playful twins.

Grizzlies & Elves

 

This type of view made Glacier Bay worth the trek.

For the first 3 days we edged up North to enjoy the views from lovely coves and to make a glacier cruise easier. There were typically 2 to 5 other lovely, large boats sharing each cove with us. Most boat names we recognized from the trip up--all of us racing to meet our allotted days.

When we were as far North as we could safely anchor, we decided it was time to see what all the excitement was about. Instead of taking our RIB out to get to the main attractions faster, we opted to see the main attractions all in one day. Taking the RIB would have been hours of enduring the cold wind in our faces. So, this entailed a long, 10-hour day of cruising. We passed, without stopping, four inlets which ended in glaciers. They were somewhat easy to see as we slowly floated by because the inlets are about a mile wide each. Our binoculars were always at the ready. There was always an incredibly beautiful view that changed each mile or so as new vistas came into view.

Nice glacier and a classic, typical view.

The John Hopkins Glacier was as far we went. Photos in 2-D just can’t express the large scale. You sense the power of the frozen, moving river. It takes your breath away. The blue, white, and rich dirt brown of the thick glaciers as well as the teal and green waters are hard to capture. 

John Hopkins Glacier (1 mile wide and 250 feet deep) and vicinity:

Enter in occasional orca whale sightings (which we hadn’t seen yet in the trip North), many dozens of buoyant sea otters, and silvery salmon leaping a couple of feet out of the water -- all of which kept our eyes open and binoculars at the ready. 

The layers of colors show the progression of glacier retreat. The closest, greenest areas have the most plant growth. 

I learned that when Glacier Bay was first designated as a national reserve, the glaciers were much longer. Most poured out past their inlets into the large bay. Now, all the glaciers have melted back into their inlets. A couple still are calving into salt water, like the one we saw at John Hopkins Inlet. The glaciers still are spectacular, and you can see them from the water, but the founders of the park did not expect the scenic views to change so dramatically.(1)

We saw the allowed 2 cruise ships and their routes each day.(2) Based on this, I think a cruise ship is a good way to see the glaciers. You can also make your way to park headquarters and see them from a sturdy tourist day-boat. (3)

Our last ancorage was probably the best because we saw a black bear, a grizzly bear, and a wolf!

 

After Glacier Bay, we opted to go a little further West to the small village of Elfin Cove. It's famous for its boardwalks, in place of roads, and as a major fishing lodge destination. It's just so darn cute as well. There are a few garden elves here and there, but we didn’t see any real ones. Unless elves are men, 25-75 years old, wearing camouflage jackets and wet gear. That's all you see. 

View from Elfin Cove boardwalk.

We took the RIB out with a fishing pole and Mike’s now-favorite lure and caught 2  salmon in about 2 minutes. With no camo! We also were surprised to see beautifully rugged stone arches and caves in the area. 

Natural arch at the fishing grounds. In the distance, behind the arch is another glacier. We also were surrounded by sea lions and humpbacks.

The small islands near Elfin Cove were so scraggly. There were shallow caves and fissures. The trees were growing directly on the rock. 

Next, we retraced our steps and anchored 2 nights at Funter Bay--a good midpoint on the way back to Juneau. Here’s Mike’s drone footage of the first evening:

The next afternoon we experienced our first rain and wind storm. As the wind picked up and waves wrapped around into the large bay, we didn't like the way it tossed around our RIB, so we pulled up anchor and cruised across the broad bay to a public floating dock. 

Just as we got comfy, the wind changed direction and waves started hitting us broadside which is very uncomfortable -- and potentially dangerous for our tie-up. We donned our wet gear and took the RIB to scout out another solution. 

We didn’t like the possible anchorages but we thought the other public dock on the opposite side of the bay was not perfect but calmer. Back we sped to the tug, wet, but relieved to have a solution. Before we hastily took off in the tug, I noticed one of our three lines was undone and another was one loose loop from becoming undone! 

I stayed in the rain on the back bench in my wet gear for the putt over to the dock. It was kind of fun. This California gal likes weather--I do! We docked without drama at the third spot of the day. Within about an hour we noticed that the wind was dying down. By evening, the seas were flat again. 

Did we have elves as stowaways, untying my lines? We may never know. But I learned that we need to use different knots in stormy weather. 

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) Actually, I read that the original purpose of creating a national reserve was to keep the land a great public place for hunting, producing timber, and tourism. It was much later that Glacier Bay became a National Park and hunting, etc. became limited. 

(2) Now, 95% of the people who enter Glacier Bay come via cruise ship. 

(3) The hard part is getting to Glacier Bay. You have to take an infrequent Alaska ferry from a large town like Juneau and stay at least over night. Or, arrive via seaplane. There is a National  Parks lodge at headquarters with a restaurant but it’s nothing as nice as you might see in Yosemite or Yellowstone. We saw it and you would need to keep your quality expectations in check.

Half Way or Finished

The view from my kayak on day 2 in Glacier Bay. The arrow points to little Unwine’d at anchorage.

Okay, drumroll and hit the high hat! We made it to Glacier Bay! Call it achieving our goal or finishing our objective, if you like. But what a great feeling it was to cross the park boundary, surrounded by towering, snow-capped peaks, calm waters, watchful cute gazes of sea otters, and a pod of orcas, skimming the water. 

Now we are halfway, geographically, and have about two months to make it back to Decourcy Island. We made it here in a month, with conditions that couldn’t have been better. 

Boating miles: 1072 (1)

Boating hours: 143 

Since my last travelogue, we stopped in urban-like Juneau, spent 3 nights in 2 different quiet coves, and then spent one night in small town Hoonah. 

In case you haven’t seen Mike’s social media posts, here are some highlights:

Mike cleaned the two salmon we (finally) caught outside of Funter Bay. 

“You have to make do on a boat,” they say. Mike made me a chocolate cake for my birthday with our BBQ. Who knew you could do that?!

The top of the marina ramp to colorful, laid-back Hoonah.

Here’s our first view of Glacier Bay National Park: 

It was a clear and comfortable day when we arrived in Glacier Bay, so we took turns sitting on the front. Those are the snow-capped mountains in the background. (2) 

After checking in with the park ranger, we opted to hike the raised boardwalk trail through the 10-shades-of-green temperate rainforest that arrives at this pond. It’s been weeks since have taken a hike. (3) 

We’ve noticed so many more sea otters up here. We actually are seeing “rafts” of adorable otters in these waters—dozens of otters hanging out together. They have light colored furry faces, dark eyes, dark nose and little dark mouth like a stuffed animal. They float on their back like a boat with their too-large-looking pawed flippers sticking straight up. Many of them are carrying pups, it seems to us:

After a month of scanning the shores with hours upon hours on the water, we spotted a bear! 

Good night to you all from our anchorage tonight. We haven’t figured out yet if it actually gets dark at some point. We’ve seen it light enough to see by 3:00 a.m.

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) This is close to the same driving distance as driving down California on Highway 5, from the Oregon border to the Mexico border. Or, driving from New York City to Orlando, Florida. But, our average speed was 7.5 MPH. 

(2) Glacier Bay National Park is slightly smaller than the size of Connecticut. In addition to the waterways and glaciers you can see from the water, it includes the surrounding forests. The Glacier Bay waterway is about the same distance (65 miles), South to North, as San Francisco Bay (60 miles). 

(3) There are many regulations in Glacier Bay National Park. They only have 25 private boats in a day—total. And there are only two cruise ships that come in a day. There was no one sharing our cove the first night. There are areas that are always restricted due to active whale habitat and others that are only available to non-motorized vessels, e.g. kayaks. We had to attend an orientation at the park headquarters before motoring upward.

Red, White & Shades of Blue

 

A favorite iceberg in Le Conte Bay, AK.

Last week we started thinking, “Where will we be on the Fourth of July?” We know the route we are taking to Glacier Bay, basically. But there are options about which islands we go around, which of hundreds of coves we anchor in, and which towns we can stop in. 

Generally, we have been planning our days the night before. We learned what daily distance we are willing to go. We use various written guides and personal advice to pick the stop. We also pick optional coves along the way in case we need to duck out from the conditions. We haven't needed to yet, but it's there when we will need it. So far, we find that pushing off early in the morning gives us the smoothest conditions, but that isn't always the case, depending mostly on currents, which aren’t 100% predictable.

Back to the Fourth, we figured out that we will have left Ketchikan, spent one night anchoring in Vixen Cove, and would probably be in Wrangell. We looked online and learned that Wrangell’s Fourth is an old-fashioned, small-town celebration. Sounded like fun! We burned 2 nights in this working-class, one-hardware store town. 

First, we visited Petroglyph Beach State Park. There were many petroglyphs scattered on large, smooth rocks along the beach. Totally approachable. 

It was fun discovering the petroglyphs. We wanted to capture them. 

This was my favorite. Looks like a shorebird to me. 

These petroglpyhs were in these homeowners’ backyards. Can you imagine?!

We walked about a mile from the Petroglyph Park to downtown. The streets along the way were deserted. We rounded a corner and saw the whole town watching their parade. Zoom in and see it’s the local kids riding decorated ATVs.

After the parade and street food (hamburgers—like we found in all Alaskan towns) was the Logger Competition. What fun! Here was the chainsaw race. How fast could you cut a slice off the log with a 15lb. vibrating chainsaw?

Next was the ax race. These guys were trying to chop the log in half first. While balancing! The poor guy on the right, a fisherman, broke his first ax. He had no chance against the big guy in the middle who was a professional tree feller. 

After Wrangell, we moved West and North through Wrangell Narrows to the fishing-cannery town of Petersberg. We got advice that we should not miss Le Conte glacier, which was a one-hour ride from Petersberg in our fast RIB. So we stayed two nights in Petersberg, to do this. 

The ride over and down to Le Conte Bay was a bit challenging. The RIB takes a 1-2 foot chop and small white caps well, but let's just say it requires full concentration. 

As we approached the entrance we were so excited to see our first icebergs!

The approach to Le Conte Bay. Starting to carefully watch for submerged icebergs—like the first ones we see up ahead. 

As we rounded the corner in the bay, the temperature dropped perhaps 10 degrees F, and we began to see more bergs. We needed to round two curves in the fjord in order to get to the glacier. As we went deeper, the bergs grew to a slew of many baby bergs, which essentially blocked our way into going further. 

However, we thoroughly enjoyed the glacier-cut mountains and energetic waterfalls surrounding us on both sides and got to encounter approachable-sized icebergs up close. 

Lots of baby bergs. Lovely waterfall.

Mike had to have a close encounter with the cutest of baby bergs.

Every iceberg had a story. I imagine this one was a little on dirt. See the stripes on the right? It picked up dirt as it moved towards the ocean. One day, boom, it falls. Slowly melts. Turns on its side as weight redistributes. 

Every iceberg is a modern work of art. Some looked like this. The blues were out-of-this-world. 

I’ve heard that icebergs are beautiful, but seeing them in 3D is the only way to believe. Check this out:

After we left Wrangell early the next morning, it was grey out. We were surprised that we could see the actual Le Conte glacier from the main waterway on our way North. 

The Le Conte glacier on our way North. That’s it just right of center. 

Tracy Arm was a must-see recommendation from experienced boaters. We had no idea the sheer majesty of this amazing fjord. It was a 10-hour cruise to get there from Wrangell, but still on our way to Glacier Bay.

Here’s our home sweet home in Tracy Arm. We anchored 2 nights near the opening of the fjord. Mike played with his drone and got this pic.

We buddied up with a couple we met on another boat to explore the fjord together in our RIB. We weren’t sure if we’d be able to see the actual South Sawyer glacier, or if we’d be blocked by dangerous icebergs. 

The fjord zigged and zagged. After each turn was a new, incredible vista. The glacier cut walls were about 2000ft/600m at first. With each turn, they grew…to 3500ft/1000m and to 5000ft/1500m! It was like floating through Yosemite Valley, with one El Capitan after another. As we passed the rock faces the wind warmed, and after the next turn, it cooled back to glacier breezes. The valleys were lush with trees and unnamed waterfalls reached up and way back to distant peaks. 

After 1.5 hours we were rewarded with a clear vista of the South Sawyer Glacier. Being that this was a “minor” glacier, we didn’t expect the large scale. We appreciated the rich blue hues that are just hard to sufficiently describe. 

Here was the view of the whole glacier. 

Here’s a better close-up. I wish you could see the small grayish dots on the floating bergs. They’re seals. Dozens of cute seals.

Mike created a video story of this day. You don’t have to login or sign up. You can just click on the link. 

We’re at the same latitude now as Sitka. Hard to believe we’ve gotten here in 3 weeks. 

Next, we plan to spend a few days in quiet coves as we continue North. We’ll re-supply in Hoonah for our stay in Glacier Bay, which we may stay in for up to a week.

Boating miles: 946

Boating hours: 116