I have never liked Ketchikan more in my life. As a child, I flew and ferried to Ketchikan at least once a year for swim meets, but getting off the boat today in the quaint Thomas Basin Harbor, I was the happiest clam alive. It feels great to walk, not have to cook or clean for one meal, and sit in a bar with lots of young local seasonal workers. As I type, Clif is catching up watching the America's Cup races--- he's glued (and a little bummed at the New Zealand lead). Also, we just received FREE grilled salmon from one of the servers (Asylum Bar-- free food every Monday night!), so we're set for a while.
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Before we left Petersburg on Saturday afternoon, we had the
privilege of having Father Thomas, of Petersburg and Wrangell, and Bishop Burns
of Juneau, officially bless Sound Discovery for her voyage. Fr. Thomas is a
long time, experienced sailor, and therefore knew exactly what needed to be
blessed and sprinkled with holy water on the boat! Clif and I were very
thankful for the blessing and felt happy, safe and secure leaving the
Petersburg harbor.
Thank you again to FT and Bishop Burns if you’re reading
this!
*Also, since I’m writing “thank-yous,” I wanted to thank Jim
Betts of Betts Boat Repair in Juneau, for his helpful hints and warm wishes
over the phone before and after we left Juneau.
*And thank you Bride and Jason--- for… well… pretty much
everything. Helping us willingly and with a smile. We appreciate and miss you.
*Thanks Jill and Mom for the zucchini bread and Uncle Paul’s
cookies… we have officially devoured all of them as of this morning!
And now, introducing our newest section of the blog, a reoccurring column:
“Clif Notes”
Clif here…
So far the trip has been fairly
uneventful, which isn’t at all a bad thing while travelling the Inside Passage
in the Fall. There have been a few stormy days but for the most part it has
been partly cloudy with very little wind. It’s nice not having howling wind in
our faces and I can forgive the drone of the engine as long as she keeps
faithfully pushing us toward warmer waters.
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| So patriotic through the Wrangell Narrows! |
For the most part we have been
travelling 50 miles a day and only travelling during the day. We have been burning
0.4 gallons per hour at a steady 4 knots, motor sailing when we can but the
majority of the time our trusty 30 hp Weterbeke does the bulk of the work with some
sailing when the wind picks up. (As a side note the one time that our Westerbeke
did overheat it was attributed to a piece of seaweed plugging the intake. Once this
was cleared, and the coolant topped off, our engine has preformed wondrously. Cheers
to keeping it that way!) This makes for relaxed shifts at the helm and we
usually switch places at the helm every 2-3 hours, as well as sharing the
cooking duties evenly. Admittedly, when it’s my turn in the galley the result
is much less appealing then when Giselle goes below to whip up a brunch or an early
dinner (which have become our main meals of the day).
When there is even the lightest
breeze we hoist the mainsail and do our best to motor sail into the light
headwind, in hopes of gaining even a tenth of a knot of boat speed. Inevitably,
as soon as I get the sails set, the wind dies back down and we end up motoring
through seas that are as flat as an oil slick. Still, much better than the gale
alternative. The best part about travelling the Inside Passage, with all of the
bays, canals, sounds and channels, is that there is always safe anchorage less
than ten miles away. It makes planning your next stop easy: just keep on
motoring until dinner time, then duck into the most convenient bight out of the
channel. Although we have a nice chart plotting program on our laptop with all
of the NOAA charts, we have found it much more convenient to use the Navionics
App on the iPad. The App only cost 7-14 dollars, and since our iPad is in a
waterproof case, we can read the charts in the cockpit, no matter the weather.
The alternative is looking inside the companion way at the laptop, lashed to
the table, which we fear will come crashing down with every wave. All of the other
systems on the boat have been working great. With the engine running most of
the day our batteries are fully charged and the 70 watts of solar panels I
installed haven’t had to work very hard to keep up with the demands of the
refrigerator.
I have been dragging a fishing
lure most of the time hoping to get a bite from a late season Coho salmon. I’m
no pro-fisherman, but I’ve heard the best speed for trolling is below 2 knots.
At that speed we wouldn’t get to Mexico until next year, so I rev up the diesel
to 4-5 knots and figure I will have lot of time to go fishing once I’m not
running away from another Alaskan winter forming behind me. So far the trip has
been relaxing and obviously warmer than when my Dad and I brought the boat up
from Tacoma in November (2012). The memory of icy decks and ocean spray
freezing in the rigging is always in the back of my mind: something I care not
to repeat. With the Alaskan Summer ending, and a short Fall before winter hits,
it is push on all day to the South. Once we get more comfortable with our
routine on the boat, we will likely start motoring a little during the night in
order to gain even more precious southerly miles.
Over and out.
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More from Giselle… (I'm copy-and-pasting this while I eat salmon and simultaneously watch America's Cup races.)
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| Enjoying time in the pulpit. |
With all this sunshine, calm seas
and little to no wind, we are finding it hard to muffle the drone of the
engine. The “sail breaks,” when the wind actually picks up to 10-20 knots, are
marvelous. We throw the sails up with the slightest hint of wind and turn off the
engine once we see that the sails are increasing our speed. With the engine
off, it is just the light, soothing sound of the water passing over the
hull. Despite the engine being on
quite a lot, we still have managed to get in some good sailing time. The wind
has been coming predominantly from the SE (our heading… of course), so sail
time has been close-hauled, pointed upwind as far as possible.
The other moments where we can
find silence and peacefulness is after we drop the anchor. All of our anchorages
have been glass calm, well protected, and picture perfect. Last night in Ratz
Harbor, I woke up in the middle of the night to tighten some of the halyards
that began to clank about once a light breeze picked up. I went outside the
foggy windows of our cabin and saw the night sky littered with thousands of
stars. It was a completely clear, cold night. I half expected to see some
northern lights (which I would’ve woken up Clif in that case). For those who
live in Southeast Alaska, we know how precious it is to see the stars in our
usually clouded over landscape. To see those stars out on the water with such
vibrancy, its no wonder sailors enjoy sailing at night. Looking back, it
probably would have been a perfect night to motor down to Ketchikan and gain some
ground. With so much beauty and light surrounding us, it would have been a nice
night. Instead I enjoyed to silence… took a couple deep, cold breaths,
tightened some of the lines, and crawled back in my sleeping bag.
Schedule
Stuff:
We are spending the night in
Ketchikan tonight, and most likely tomorrow mid-day, giving us enough time to swim and shower in the morning and go get groceries... etc. We're just planning a short day to Duke Island and then a long early morning and day into Prince Rupert. The NOAA weather for Dixon
Entrance is not soo hot on Tuesday, so we’re hoping to wait out for a nice day on Wednesday (which it is predicted to be)
Things I am looking forward to in
Ketchikan:
1.
A shower!
2.
A draft beer at a bar with wifi (hopefully by
the time I’ve uploaded this to the blog, I will have found one!)
3.
A nice lap swim in the pool, if we spend a full
day Tuesday.
4.
Safeway run. hooray.
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| We put on a smaller jib for the close-hauled, up-wind sailing. |
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| Anchorage in St. John's Bay |
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| Sunrise in the rigging... |
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