Sailing SE Alaska

July 27, 2012   Hoonah to Couverdeen Cove

     The three of us didn’t go to bed last night until 1am but I lay in my berth, too exhilarated to sleep--I think it’s the whales. I’ve wanted to see whales all my life. In my 20s I dreamed about them constantly, walking along the shore, one would slowly swim by within arms reach and I could reach over and caress its back. But alas, whales were only dreams until my first sighting last August on the south end of Bainbridge Island (in Puget Sound, Washington) of three orca whales but still I yearned to see humpback whales. The close encounter in Dundas Bay and then the whole symphony of whales yesterday, has me grateful beyond expression and I’m teary now just remembering. Something I will never forget.
     As I lay awake in my berth, thinking of whales I heard the large, wooden commercial fishing boat moored behind us fire up its engines and watched it head off from the portlight above my port berth. Her name is Tatchu and we had seen her several days ago, 50 miles NW from here in Cross Sound. Then yesterday evening she pulled in behind us at the outer Hoonah dock. I had remembered that particular boat because I made a joke to Pete that, “There goes the Tat-choo”, like a sneeze. Awesome to see her up close--she’s very impressive, Hoonah must be her home port.
     After watching Tatchu go by, a glance at the time, 4am. I lay back down determined to get some sleep, which I did, but my sleep was raucous, dreams full of burlesque women ,earthquakes (I bet the boat was rocking from someone’s wake right then) and riding a giant wave of Will Ferrell’s pee.
     I was able to sleep until 9am but the instant I awoke my body thrummed with the exhilaration I’ve felt since we saw the whales yesterday.
      After a quick cup of chai tea and an English muffin, I headed over to the marina for a quick shower--best deal I’ve found yet--$1.00 for 4 minutes while Pete and Kelsey did their errands. Then to the library to update my blog. The public library, which has internet access is housed inside the town's school. Later I met Pete and Kelsey a few doors down at the little cafe, Chipper Fish. Really good food. Pete had a craving for a hamburger (it was huge) and I had salmon bits and Kelsey had a salmon “taco” but really a large burrito. The salmon is from the owner’s uncle who is a fisherman.
     Slowly walked through town, chatted with a group of Tlingit townfolk hanging outside a closed gift shop. The three young guy’s ride appeared soon after though, so they left but I talked with the older gentleman for a while. When I told him we had been up Dundas Bay, he told me that his grandparents had died up there--in a too top-heavy skiff that had overturned, I think in the Dundas River but may have been the bay.
    Walked next door to a cafe that had some local crafts and bought a beaded bracelet for my daughter and bought my big treasure of this trip--a miniature yellow cedar paddle with a colorful raven carved on it. Both pieces designed and made by men from Hoonah. Also, in the shop was a humpback whale vertebrae, about a 12 inch diameter, which was awesome to see.
     There was a black bear skin tacked to the wall that the woman in the shop told me her grandfather killed and they ate the whole thing. She showed me some bare patches where tourists had come in and ripped off some of the fur to keep--how tacky and disrespectful is that! Chatted with her for a short time, which was nice. When I saw Pete walk past the sidewalk outside, I ran out and caught up with him. Back at the boat, Kelsey joined us and it was time to go--beginning of the flood.
    Left Hoonah, Kelsey at the helm. Clouds covered the tops of the mountains, in contrast to yesterday’s sunshine. What a beautiful town Hoonah is--would love to go back someday.
     Exited Port Frederick inlet and into Icy Strait and turned toward slightly South and toward the East. As we saw The Sisters Islands ahead off our port bow, the drizzly rain had become more of a downpour and Pete rigged a canvas tarp over the boom to keep us dry--what luxury!   We saw humpback blow plumes in the distance to our North and South.
      Here in this area, Icy Strait (from the NW) converges with Lynn Canal (from the NE) meets North Catham Strait coming from the South and creates crazy intense currents. They can run 3 knots and today the waves were 2-3 feet high. As we rolled over the waves, and Privateer’s bow rolled up and down, Pete called it “Bucking the chop”, which being a bit of a cowgirl, made me smile. I enjoyed the motion (although after about 4 hours I was ready for a calm anchorage). Pete told me Georgia Strait (where I want to sail) is often like this--so good experience for me.
     The currents were too intense to sail and as we motored South of The Sisters' submerged shallow reef, the currents increased but Privateer rides the waves with ease--such a wonderful boat she is. An eagle circled above the island. The clouds started to part here and there and we could see bits of sun break out to the East and South of us--a beautiful cloud day. Looking back toward Hoonah though, the clouds were dark and low--obviously still raining there.
     Continued across Icy Strait and passed between Couverdeen Island and Rocky Island rock. We could see the Northern end of Admiralty Island ahead of us and where the mountains make a valley down to sea level (where Funta Bay is) you can see beyond Admiralty Island to the mainland and the Harding Icefield that is the backdrop to Juneau. Parts of Admiralty Island turned emerald green where patches of sun hit the mountain sides.
    Once we rounded Pt. Couverdeen, we turned North along the East side of Couverdeen Island. The crazy currents lessoned, and the 15-20 knot South winds gave us a nice tail wind so Pete was able to unfurl the yankee and turn off the engine--a nice downwind run. Things were a bit more peaceful and Kelsey handed us up hot cocoa with marshmallows from down below to warm us up--what a goddess!
     We made our way around the Northern tip of the NE end of Couverdeen Island and carefully entered the very sheltered bay there. The Coast Pilot doesn’t say much about this cove so we had to rely on the Douglas, which says there is a 3 fathom bar not on the charts. We started the now familiar routine in uncertain anchorages, Pete at the helm, Kelsey on the bowsprit watching for rocks and me watching the depth sounder and calling out the depths in 5 foot increments. Pete brought us deep South into the sweet little sheltered bay and we’re now anchored in about 40 feet of water.
     A good call to bring us into here because the float dock on the West side of the island is much more exposed. I can hear the wind howling outside and Privateer is gently rocking from side to side. Inside Privateer the wood stove is burning, we’ve hung our wet clothing, and we’re warm and secure in our anchorage and snug as a bug. Another awesome day.