Sailing SE Alaska

July 26, 2012     Dundas Bay to Hoonah----A Whale of a Day

     Woke up this morning feeling much better though still slightly shaky. Had breakfast--biscuits with sausage gravy--then before Kelsey and I had even gone up top, Pete had the engine going and was starting to pull the anchor. He was anxious to get going because we had 44 miles to go today and currents in North Passage and Icy Strait are very strong and it was important to time them right.
     As soon as we got underway, while we were still in the SW arm at the head of Dundas Bay, we saw a huge raft-up of sea otters--at least a hundred, probably more. Although we’ve been seeing sea otters everyday, this is the biggest concentration I’d seen and Pete told me that this bay is one of the places they were reintroduced. (Russian, American and British fur traders wiped them out in SE Alaska by 1850) When they’re not diving, they float along on their backs--very adorable critters.
     We motored down the bay on the ebb tide and as we left the mouth of Dundas Bay and into North Passage, we caught the full force of the ebb tide against us. Our speed instantly went from 5 knots to 2.5 knots (too long of a passage today to wait for the flood--we just had to deal with the ebb for about two hours).
     There was a bit of wind, so we raised the main and unfurled the yankee and with the engine and sails we increased to 3.8 knots. We had a SW wind, so we were running down wind. Peter tied on a preventer (a line that runs from the end of the boom to the furthest forward bow cleat, which keeps the main from an accidental gybe--which is when the boom violently swings to the other side of the boat). Once the the preventer was tied on, we pulled the yankee to the other side and ran her wing-on-wing (yankee sail on one side, main sail on the other).
     Motored-sailed and once on the north side of Lemesurier Island, the wind picked up and now we were on the flood, so we were able to turn off the engine--yeah, we’re sailing baby! At one point we were going 8.9 knots.
     Then, as we hit the big open area comprised of the mouth of Glacier Bay to the North, the East end of Lemesurier Island and the North end of Chichagoff Island, and marks the beginning of Icy Strait, we started to see whales, lots and lots of whales...blow plumes everywhere. Our guess is that there were at least a hundred of them. I head a loud boom, like a gun-shot and looked askance at Peter. “That’s the sound of a breaching whale hitting the water.” Suddenly, off our port side there were whales close enough we could hear their exhalation and sometimes there would be a loud squeal (the sound reminded me of an elephant’s trumpeting sound). I don’t know if this is part of their blow noise or a vocalization. Looking South toward Chichagof we could see a whale doing numerous breaches close to that shore line---quite a distance away, but the big splash was very apparent.
     We continued sailing down Icy Strait and passed the area between Pt. Adolphhus on Chichagoff (to the South) and Pleasant Island (to our North), we weren’t seeing anymore whales when Kelsey shouted, “Whale straight ahead”. This one was within 50 feet in front of us and there was another one close by too. It’s trajectory was to our right so we held our course but several times over the next 10 minutes one of them would surface near us---the closest was about 20 feet off our starboard side..a blow, then a gleaming rounded back comes to the surface and then you see the small dorsal fin and then they’re back under. I must admit I looked at Pete and asked, “Do you think they can hear us?” It was exciting to see a humpback so close, but I’d hate to be in a boat bumped by one.
      I don’t know if it was the excitement of the whales or my body’s immune system finally knocked off my flu weakness but I suddenly felt my full strength return. Once we were safely past all the whales and heading SE down Icy Strait, Pete turned the helm over to me and with Kelsey making sure I kept course on the GPS (quite a large underwater shoal off Eagle Point she reminded me--need to head to port 20 degrees) we continued sailing down Icy Strait. I guess Pete trusted us (we were in wide open waters now--no rocks to worry about) and he went down below and took a little snooze.
      Now, we were in full flood, the wind was good and we had a nice downwind sail. Not only that, but we had one of SE Alaska’s rare events--sunshine! We were averaging 4 to 6 knots most of the way and I was at the helm about 4 hours.
     Eventually Kelsey took over the helm and as we came abeam of Port Frederick--(our off ramp to Hoonah), we called Pete from below and he came up deck. Suddenly, the wind caught the nautical chart next to me and blew it off the boat and I literally caught the edge of the last inch as it went over the rail (close call there) Disaster averted, Pete had us gybe and we entered the inlet. As we were abeam of Scraggy Island, the wind abruptly died and so Pete started the engine and we motored toward Hoonah.
      Hoonah is the largest Tlingit village in SE Alaska. A long time ago, legend says, they used to live in Glacier Bay but were forced out by growing glaciers and relocated to what is now Hoonah. The first thing you see is Cannery Point, where an old cannery has been remodeled and other structures built including the world’s longest zip line--this is where the big cruise sometimes stop.
    A mile down the road is Hoonah, a small town of colorful houses surrounded by mountain peaks. We’re moored at the dock outside the break water. As I called home to family, a bald eagle flew right over me a few feet above the mast.
     Pete and Kelsey have gone to walk around but I’ve stayed on Privateer to jot down everything before I forget. Tomorrow we plan go eat lunch in town and find the library, which has wifi, then explore the town. (41 miles and 9.5 hours of traveling today--another day in paradise)