Down The Inland Passage

The Inland Passage - out of Haines

The Inland Passage

Wednesday, Sept 8th - Haines to Juneau

Today we started our journey down the Inland Passage. We left Haines at 4:30 pm on one of the Alaska Marine Highways’ smaller ferries. Small enough that I had to reverse on! This is akin to pulling out on to a football field at the 50 yd line, backing straight down through the goal posts and then executing a quick right turn so as not to leave the end zone. We did it without a ding but an hour later I had a headache.

At Tracy's Crab Shack

The trip itself was grey and misty, the water, a hammered sheet of pewter. We arrived in the dark with heavy rain but managed to find the campsite and had some help backing in to our spot. The next day Juneau is a madhouse with four monster cruise ships parked at the bottom of the main street: tourists everywhere, doddering around, filling their shopping bags with cheap t-shirts and knock-off art work. (Yes, yes, I know. I’m a tourist too. But talk to these people! Many barely know where they are, often they’re not sure where they’re going next, some have forgotten what their last port was.) Fortunately the State Museum is a haven of peace and beauty and we try again to get our heads around the different moietes, clans and languages. Terrific exhibits and I fall in love again with Yupic masks. We have lunch that day at Tracy’s Crab Shack - an outdoor trailer selling wonderful king crab and share our picnic table with a couple of overseas Chinese from Indonesia currently living in Australia - their accents, to our ears, a wild mixture of all three countries.
No trip to Juneau is complete without a visit to the Mendenhall Glacier and on the second day it is dry, sunny and uncrowded - the ships sailed in the night. Dar and I are getting a bit blazé about glaciers - they have a tendency to just sit there - but their structure is fascinating and today a recent calving from the face reveals a deep, deep cyan blue that will gradually fade as exposure to oxygen bleaches the colour.

Saturday, Sept 11th - Juneau to Sitka

Big ferry - I get to drive on going forwards. The Fairweather is a large modern boat: carpet on the floors, reclinable armchairs, study carrels and big windows. A downside is that passengers are not allowed on the front deck. This boat is driven by water jets, moves at 35 knots/hr and sends up a fair bit of spray at the bow.
Dar and I spend almost the whole 5 hr trip on the back deck. The passage between the islands is almost mystical: forested hills, snow-capped peaks, sunshine sparkling on clear water while a pod of orcas pass by and then some humpbacks.

The Inland Passage - on to Sitka

We arrive in brilliant sunshine, drive into Sitka and Dar - in her quest for authenticity -  manages to find the oldest, narrowest road as we head towards the municipal campsite. (We are both impressed at how the oncoming trucks calmly pull up on to the sidewalk to let us pass - and we both know what they’re probably thinking.)
We both agree that Sitka is the most beautiful town we’ve seen so far. Although it is also on the cruise itinerary it is a thriving town in its own right and has not developed one of those dreadful strips of knick-knack shops and t-shirt ghettos.
Sitka is the homesite of the Tlingits; it was here that they first slaughtered the intruding Russians and only barely succumbed to a six-day retaliation siege a year later. Their culture is still strong here and there are numerous commercial ventures as well as a thriving artistic base. Our first visit is to the Sitka National Totem Park,  a conservation and reclamation park that houses numerous totem poles gathered from many of the islands around here.

Gotta love Humpbacks!

The following day we hire Paul Davis to take us whale-watching in his small cruiser. Just the two of us, Paul and a buddy.  At first, we seem to have struck out. We see plenty of “blows” but when we arrive at that spot there are no whales. Paul is a great guy and explains his reasoning as we move from place to place. As we cruise around he shows us a huge sea-lion “haul-out” and rafts of sea otters as well as a number of Grey Whales - great gnarly beasts that cruise the rock faces in search of plankton and krill.

And then, on the route back we run into dozens of humpbacks and Darlene and I burn through our memory cards shooting. ( and NO! I did not photoshop that photo! There was the cloud, the whale and the volcano.)

Tuesday, September 14th - Sitka to Petersburg

The ferry arrives in Petersburg at 3:30 am and the harbour master kindly lets us park in a loading lane until morning. (Actually, what he says is: “ We don’t want you driving that thing down our streets in the dark.”) The next day we find a lovely turnout by the Wrangell Narrows where we can watch the boats sail by and we’re back to “dry camping”. This is where our generators come in really useful.
The ferry ride was another day of serene beauty punctuated with sightings of whales and porpoise chasing salmon. Steve, a local fisherman explains the passage through which we’re moving. He’s a little weird, immensely garrulous, and incredibly knowledgeable about all things related to fishing, crabbing, shrimping ...... the man’s a fountainhead, so we learn a lot.
The day is spent exploring the small town of Petersburg. This is a serious fishing community - there are several canneries - as well they have seasons for shrimp and Dungeness crab. Lunch is at Coastal Cold Storage and I determine to learn how to cook “Halibeer Bits”. (Halibut is still more than 2x expensive than salmon. And the scallops are from Nova Scotia!)

Sea lion looking for dropped fish

There are three harbours and we roam around them all, talking to fishermen about their boats - gill netting season ended at noon - and following a couple of sea lions that are cruising around looking for hand-outs.
Big Bonus! I find a store that sells my size in Haflinger’s and I buy a pair of slippers. (The rig is cold on the tootsies in the morning.) At night, I grill some halibut, Dar makes a great salad and we get ready to sail early in the morning.

Friday, September 17th, Petersburg to Ketchikan

Oh my God, they want me to back the rig down that loading dock! Now we’re talking (1)reverse the whole football field, (2) negotiate a curve in the middle, (3) through the goal posts and then (4) another right turn in the end zone - all backwards.
 We start out poorly, my deckhand guide getting us too far to one side and then spend some time getting straightened out. Enter the stressed out loading chief who tells me “We gotta hurry, we’re running late.” and I respond ( a bit loudly) with “I’ve been sitting here for two hours, waiting!”
Eventually I shelve my ego, embrace common sense and let a young trucker back it down for me. I’m a little soothed as he does exactly as I would - except he’s 2x faster with 1/2 as many corrections. ( Later, on the ferry I am called to the Purser’s desk. It seems the young guy didn’t park the rig perfectly. Could I help straighten it out?  Now the loading chief is all smiles and actually apologizes for his earlier attitude. I do, and everyone’s happy.)
It’s a ten hour ride on the ferry. The first half is wonderful - through Wrangell Narrows and other tight passages. Then the water opens out into a broad expanse, the hills retreat into the distance and the view becomes your basic water, water everywhere.
We arrive about 7 pm. The state campgrounds are closed so we spend the first night at ............... Walmart. We’re happy to be somewhere but it’s noisy all night long. Ketchikan seems to be carved out of rock at the foot of the surrounding hills - space is precious. And so Walmart stores its stock in dozens of shipping containers at the back of their parking lot. Right about where we’re parked. At 2 am the forklifts are busy shunting pallets of goods from the containers to the store.
In the morning we look for another site and wind up in a state recreation area. Strictly speaking there’s no camping allowed -day use only - but our options are limited - either the campgrounds are closed for the season or the sites are way too small. (As I write this I’m waiting for the trooper’s knock on the door.)

At Totem Bight

This morning we drove north to the end of the road and then turned in at Totem Bight - a state totem park. Four cruise buses convinced us to continue on so we braved the masses in downtown Ketckikan. The highlight was talking to Marvin Oliver, a Coast Salish artist who works in everything from bronze to serigraphy to glass. (Oh, and checking out the Ray Troll shop - “Spawn ‘Till You Die”)
We return to Totem Bight in the late afternoon; the western sun is warm upon the totems, the water laps at the shore and seagulls cry in the distance. There is almost no one else here and we are enveloped in one of those timeless moments.

On Sunday we head the other way out of town - “out the road” to its southern end. At Herring Cove we stop to watch some seals chase salmon and spend some time at Saxman Village, walking through more totems. We’re slowly understanding more about these majestic carvings, separating them into different types and recognizing the individual features. I talk to carvers and locals whenever I can and find them willing and eager to chat with someone who cares. (Although I don’t think I was quite able to convince Woody that, in a previous life, I was a member of the Ravens.)

Dar, Marvin and our print

In the afternoon we return to Martin Oliver’s shop and decide to buy ourselves an anniversary gift - one of his prints. We have a lot of fun choosing and finally settle on a Raven image that combines a traditional story and graphic structure with modern colour and whimsy.

Monday is oil-change day. It starts auspiciously - I drop off Darlene at the laundromat and take then truck in to get it serviced. On return, we discover that she left her journal in a pile of stuff on the tonneau cover when I drove off. Heading back down the road I find everything except the journal. We walk the road several times but no luck, it is gone. In the afternoon she is frustrated in her search for a hairdresser. ( This maybe because I have been suggesting she might be a member of the Woodpecker clan.) And, to finish the day, as we drive down the highway, I watch in the rearview mirror as someone’s tonneau cover comes loose and sails into traffic behind me.
It took about a 1/2 second to realize that it was ours. Fortunately it didn’t hit anyone but the car behind us couldn’t stop in time and did some damage rolling over it. It has now acquired a bent personality and will need some serious repair. We return to the rig to find a note on the door telling us that this area is DAY USE ONLY! ( I don’t think this is official - it’s scrawled on a yellow sticky, but the question is moot; we’re spending the night at the ferry terminal. Tomorrow we sail for Prince Rupert.)

Tuesday, Sept. 21, Ketchikan to Prince Rupert.

It’s not peaceful on a ferry dock. There’s always someone moving something with a large piece of equipment that beeps in reverse. In the morning it’s a lovely trip down to Prince Rupert but it’s also a bit bland - which tells me that I’ve been spoiled by a rich diet of too much beautiful scenery.
In the morning, Dar gets her hair done and I repair the tonneau cover - and then we head up the 37 to the ghost town of Hyder, Alaska to see more bears.
There are no bears to be seen. That is because there are no salmon to be seen in spite of many assurances that they were still running. Hyder would be a phenomenal bear-viewing site if the fish were running. A long raised boardwalk follows the stream’s course allowing terrific viewing.
We’re a little disappointed but not heartbroken - we knew it was a gamble.
On to Prince George - where I hope to finally catch up with my new glasses at the Bee Lazee RV Park.

O Haines! How Do I Love Thee! Let Me Count The Ways...

Haines, AK

Ah! Salmon for breakfast!

Tuesday, Aug 31st - by the side of Lutak Inlet, Haines. AK

We make it to Haines easily enough, but our plans to camp at Chilkat State Park are stymied by a 14% grade on a dirt entrance road and the promise of five days of rain. I’m worried that by the fifth day, not even four-wheel drive will pull the rig uphill in the mud.
Today was spent stopping for photos along the Haines Highway. So many mountains, so much colour! And Darlene continues to have nosebleeds, adding a little colour to the inside of the truck as well.
Checked out another state campground but no sites that could accommodate our length. Did see a grizzly sow with cub fishing for salmon in the river, though! Apparently this is a nightly occurrence in Haines so we’ll try again without the rig on our back end. We’ve found a great turnout by Lutak Inlet, complete with bear scat, so maybe tomorrow morning will bring some excitement when I go outside to fire up the generator for our morning latte.

Sunday, Sept 5th, Labour Day Weekend - Chilkoot Lake State Campground

We’ve been in Haines for five days now. Although it is a small town with limited “attractions” we have kept ourselves busy.
Wednesday was largely spent figuring out where we were going to camp until the 8th, when we leave. There are certainly enough turnouts beside the highway but I’m leery of leaving the trailer unhitched for long periods of time while we explore. We took the truck over to the other campground and checked out the 14% grade. Ridiculous! They must be actively discouraging RVs without actually saying so. The road is not only steep, it is twisty and has not been graded. The potholes and humps are immense. It could easily rip the trailer from the hitch, even at a snail’s pace.
And we are very happy with our site at this campground. Bob, the Camp Host, helped us secure a large pull-through by the lake and we are staying here for five days. Not only is it beautiful, surrounded by tall Sitka Spruce,and facing the lake, we can walk 10 minutes down the road in the morning and evening and watch grizzly bears fishing for salmon. Mostly sows and their cubs - all show up for the salmon (coho), along with eagles and ravens. (They really like this part of the river as the Dept. of Fish & Game has erected a weir so that they can count the salmon run. How’s that for a summer job? Sit in the middle of a weir that spans the river, counting the salmon that swim through a three-foot hole, with grizzlies on either side of you grabbing as many fish as they can.)

Bear & gull discuss fishing technique at the weir

So moose like bananas - who knew?

Another highlight is a trip to Steve Kroschel’s Wildlife Center.  Steve is a film-maker in his own right - just google him - and keeps a tremendous number of Alaskan animals on his huge estate that are used in movies. Need a wolverine? Steve’s got three. (Years ago he brought two to Johnny Carson’s Late Show) His relationship with his animals is nothing short of amazing: grizzlies, wolves, moose (yes, moose!) even weasels and lynx. He vocalizes a hundred different sounds - noises humans don’t usually make. It’s a complicated connection. He doesn’t think of these animals as pets and he is very concerned about their rights as wildlife. I think he sees them as family.
At the end of the tour he invites Darlene and me to remain behind so that we can try for some weasel photos. ( Weasels seem to be constantly on the move, staying still for only a second unless they are in their den.) Amazing guy, multi-talented, no pretense.

We have discovered the Alaska Carving Center where Dar and I talk with a Tlingit carver about a pole that he’s working on. Slowly I’m sorting out the Eagles and Ravens, Killer Whale clan and Frog clan.

The Sheldon Museum helps clarify things and gives me an appreciation for button coats and Chilkoot blankets. But I always come back to the carvings - masks, raven rattles, house posts and totem poles - I’m entranced. ( That Tlingit carver will carve me my own pole - $2500 - $3000 / ft. ) I want thirty feet - something I can plant in front of the house. Make a statement on Knights Bridge Court.

We have had some terrific meals here. Darlene’s been eating salmon and I’ve rediscovered a taste for halibut. And the beer!!!  The Haines Brewing Co. is a one-man operation housed in the film set used for the “White Fang” movie. (Apparently the producers were going to tear it down when they were finished shooting but offered it to the town. Haines grabbed it and, as well as the brewery, there is a restaurant, a massage therapist and a wool store housed in the quaint little buildings of “Dawson City”.  I contributed by buying a “growler” full of Rock Red. (one of those jugs with a finger hole at the neck)

Ian supports a small independent business

Tuesday, September 7th - back by the side of Lutak Inlet, Haines, AK

It’s September 7th. Our friends back in Ontario have just had their first day of school and we are parked beside Chilkoot Sound, watching a couple of seals chase down a fish dinner.
Our week in Haines has been bears, bears, bears! I have shot hundreds of photos and still don’t have one that’s really good. If it’s not the light, it’s the distance - or the way the bear’s facing. And when everything’s perfect it walks behind a rock.
This morning - our last in the park - we woke up to bright sunshine. The river had some mist rising and everything was rimmed in liquid gold. So beautiful, but .........
No  bears. In a place where there are ALWAYS bears - no bears.

I don’t think I have the patience to be a wildlife photographer.

Did I mention bald eagles? Haines is a gathering centre for bald eagles in the late fall. If I could wait until November there would be over 3000 birds feasting on a late run of chum salmon on the Chilkat River. As it is, Dar and I counted fifteen fishing the river below the bears. Not easy to photograph, though. I’d need to invest in some very expensive glassware to get close.

Good Road Going Bad

Sat., August 28th, high above Midway Lake -  Wrangell Mtns in the distance, AK

The day starts off dreary - cold and wet - and we must sort out our plans. Yesterday we spent time at the visitor centre of Wrangell-St.Elias National Park and it confirmed our desire to see something of the park. This park is immense! Bigger than Switzerland with higher mountains. Unfortunately we’re not going to see a damn thing in this weather and we reluctantly agree to push on. It would be a slow drive down rough roads with only clouds and mist.
The highway heading north to Tok is described in The Milepost as “good road going bad” . There are lots of frost heaves which throw things around in the rig. (Literally, “throw things around”. Even at 40 km/hr the couch has moved, its pillows are upside down, and the sink stopper is nowhere to be found.
What we do find is water. Water dripping from the bottom of the rig. Water dripping at the front, over the spare tire and water dripping at the rear, by the stabilizers. Hell, I don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s not blue, so it’s not from the toilet holding tank. If it’s still leaking later I’ll taste it: No taste = fresh water tank, soapy taste  = either the kitchen or the shower. (The knowledge may be comforting, but there’s nothing I can do to fix it. When we get to Haines, I’ll phone Heartland for suggestions.)
Have I mentioned that I’m writing this enclosed in a giant mosquito tent? We found it on sale at a Fred Myer’s and decided that it might be useful. Tonight it’s not mossies, but some sort of midge that find the inside of my ears and nose extremely attractive. I expect that Alysha will claim it when we get home as it actually provides some protection from those annoying wasps when working on the computer outside.
I’m off to BBQ some scallops and shrimp for tonight’s dinner.

Sunday, August 29th - a rest stop looking out at the Kluane range, Yukon

We turned right at Tok and in doing so, began our journey towards home. We’re both feeling a little wistful; neither ready to call it quits. We console ourselves with the knowledge that we have thousands of miles of unseen country in front of us - including the Inland Passage. We travel south on the Alaska Highway past Trumpeter Swans in pothole lakes and miles and miles of taiga. ( Numero Uno moose country - where are they?) If the Tok Cut Off was “good road going bad”, as soon as we cross over into the Yukon the Alaska Highway south is “bad road going to Hell” The road is built over permafrost and the civil engineers have yet to solve this problem. The frost heaves are immense and speckled with 6” deep potholes. At one point I’m driving 10 mph and meet a sign that reads “Reduce Speed”! ( The shift from the US to Canada is funny; in Alaska, the road sign says “Drive with Caution!”; in Canada - “Please Drive with Caution!”) And muddy! We’ve got a “soft focus” thing happening on our windows. All that previous rain had kept the truck & rig pretty clean. Now we’re back to tan with overtones of caramel and chocolate and you can’t open a door without getting mud on you somewhere.
Dar has the keen eye today. She sees the swans and eventually two cow moose browsing the grass at the edge of a pond.
Dinner tonight is pizza. My job is to lie on my back, force my right hand below the pilot light and flick the BBQ lighter while Dar turns on the oven. Heartland - the manufacturer - has some ‘splaining to do. This is uncomfortable and awkward. There must be a better way. (I need a 24” BBQ lighter)

OBSERVATIONS:
    - Weathertech floor mats are bloody wonderful!

    - In Alaska, there are turnouts every few miles and - by and large - they’ve been     leveled, even if you’re coming off a hill (Just perfect for overnighting.) In the     Yukon, there are relatively few turnouts and they tend to follow the slope of the     hill. Not so good for camping.

   -  The Milepost - a book detailing the Alaska Highway - is priceless! Thank you,     Joel! ( The Milepost tells you every turnoff, every pullout, every bridge, every rest area along the way. As well as information on every town and business (thriving, expired or ghost) that you meet. ( This might seem superfluous until you realize that, because of the trees and brush, you can’t actually see any of this until you just passed it!

   -  In Alaska, at almost every dock and waterfront there are “free to use” lifejackets     for children, sponsored by the “Kids Don’t Float!” program.

   -  It’s August 29th, and  Alaska is getting ready for winter:
        - Moose season opened for those who depend on the meat.
        - The RV parks start closing Labour Day Weekend
        - Bill, beside me in Valdez’s RV park, has bought all his anti-freeze for his trailer and boat.
        - The foliage has started to turn
        - Question asked of a gas attendant at Burwash: “When do you usually get your first snow?”

          Answer: “Oh, about August 31st.”
       

Monday, Aug 30th - Dezadeash  (Dez-dee-ash) Campground, YK

We drive south-east down the Alaska Highway  and decide to camp just south of Haines Junction. The road has gone from horrible to fantastic; from the worst road ever driven to the very best, (Could they have finished it yesterday? I could believe that we were the first to drive it, were it not for other cars & trucks going both ways.) It is the result of the Shakwak Agreement that sees the US  pave a Yukon highway since 85% of the users are American.

The trip involves many stops for photos. Lots of colour here. The fireweed is raving scarlet. Ian drives because Darlene has a wicked cold. Some Tylenol purchased at the junction seems to do the trick until we set up camp and then she has a monster nosebleed. (Ian refrains from taking photos.)

Fireweed

Closed? It's August 31st!

Valdeeez Please!

Worthington Glacier

Tuesday, August 24th, Valdez ( pronounced Valdeeez!)
We got here in the mid afternoon. A trip of only 120 miles but many distractions: frost heaves on the road and rock heaves all around. (Mountains - many many.) And some splendid glaciers. A stop at Worthington Glacier provides us with a bunch of info on firn (compressed snow - more globular crystal structure) and glacial movement. I find the Alaskan information kiosks to be well done. We are camped at a private RV park which hurts our pride a little but occasionally there is an advantage to electrical service, laundry and wi-fi (of a sort)

One day's catch

If Homer was halibut, Valdez is silver salmon. People at this campsite have multiple freezers outside their rigs full of fish.They transport their catch from the dock to the RV in wheelbarrows! (See photo - I know no one will believe me.) My neighbour Bill is at present vacuum packing his daily catch. (Alysha, there really are people who buy that machine on the infomercial!)

Fish in a barrow

On Wednesday we roam the town, visit the museum and decide that we’ll try kayaking in the icebergs at Columbia Glacier. Both of us are a little hesitant - that water is damned cold and a dump would have severe consequences. ( Even having owned a kayak I’ve never developed the sane comfort level as I have in my canoe. It has to do with being strapped in I think)

Thursday arrives, we join six others and head out Valdez Arm, past the infamous Bligh Reef where the Exxon Valdez grounded, and head for Heather Island where we will hop into our boats with Sam, our guide. (There is little overt evidence any more of the Valdez tragedy but we’re told that if you lift up a rock on some of the outlying islands crude oil will seep up from the ground. And there are still wildlife sectors that have never recovered.)

First skirt Darlene's worn all trip!

Kayaking in the icebergs is magical. I was hoping for bigger ones but truly, they would have been wasted. There was a strong current blowing them our way and even “little” ones will cause damage if you were to be hit by one. Anyway I’m having enough trouble steering the boat. I’ve never had a moveable rudder on  kayak before so I don’t realize that mine is not operating properly. ( It finally breaks, Sam, the guide, adjusts it, and oh my, the boat now turns easily. )

Columbia Glacier Ice Fields

Bill and Mary, our neighbours at the RV park have been fishing again. This time, as well as a mess of shrimp, he’s brought in a 175 lb halibut as well as a 30 lb one. They may have to buy another freezer.

On Friday, before we leave we visit the Whitney Museum a wonderful storehouse of early Alaskan and Athabascan life. Later, at  the visitors’ center of the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, we have a long conversation with an Athabascan woman who explains that, because of their history as nomadic hunters, all of their art tends to decorate functional pieces and that they have none of the larger pieces like the Pacific North-West peoples because they would not have been able to transport it.
We spend Friday night back at Talkina River, this time in the company of two families in Class A’s, both towing cars.

Stellar Sea Lion