Gut Bay to Red Bluff Bay

Mickie’s Winter Basin in Gut Bay proved to be a spectacular place. The morning started with the usual overcast, but the sun soon started to part the clouds. After seeing me running all over the decks of Arctic Star with my camera, Lee from Sonata came over in his tender and offered to drive me around for some better angles. That’s the kind of people you meet while cruising.

It was low tide, so we went over to the entrance to take a look and snap a few images for future reference. I managed to take a couple of nice photos of Sonata and Arctic Star. I wanted to get a really nice “portrait” of Sonata for Lee that I could send him in thanks.

Sonata sits in front of the large waterfall

Sonata looks majestic against the backdrop of granite and waterfalls

Sometimes Arctic Star looks big, and other times, as here she looks small

Arctic Star in Margie's Winter Basin

It doesn't get much more spectacular than this

As we wrapped up our photo mission, Lee suggested that we go out and check his prawn traps in the large Gut Bay around the corner. We swung by Arctic Star and let Karen know our plans and also picked up Dave from Sonata, and off we went. As I mentioned, it was just coming up off of low tide so we only had just enough water for Lee’s tender to make it though with only one bump at the bow. Going though at low tide gave us all a great mental picture of the narrow passage that would come in handy later when we departed at high tide.

Checking in with Karen to let her know “the boys” are off for a little adventure

Leaving the entrance to Mickie's Winter Basin near low tide give you a good look at the contours of the passage

I’ve been out with a few people before to tend to prawn and crab pots, but Lee definitely has it figured out. The wide beam of the boat combined with the electric retrieval wench made easy work of hauling in 300 foot of line with two prawn pots at the bitter end. I took notes of the technique for using floating line with weights to prevent the line snagging on rocks. All in all, a great learning experience, and by-the-by, the pots did contain a nice harvest of prawns. Apparently, while I was gone having fun, Karen cleaned the boat and opened it up to get some fresh air inside after all the rain. Wonder who had more fun?

Lee mans the hoist to retrieve the prawn pots

Transferring the catch to the awaiting bucket

Success!

Sonata's tender is a great way to get around

Waiting for high tide that was predicted for around 1 pm, I continued to take pictures of this beautiful place as the clouds and light danced across the mountains, trees and water.

Critters have been a little scarce in this bay. The beach is perfect for bear, but all that we have seen on the beach is a Sitka Black Tail deer. I did manage to spot a Bald Eagle landing on the shore line and then eating a catch from earlier. Not very pretty, but interesting to watch.

A Bald Eagle working on a tasty morsel for and earlier catch

Karen polishes off another book on her Nook

As high tide approached, we lifted the anchor, along with a lot of sticky mud and some kelp. It’s a pain to clean off, but makes for a secure night’s sleep. Of course, as we departed, the wind started to funnel in through the narrow opening, making for some additional fun.

Blue skies make an appearance at Mickie's Winter Basin

Good holding in Mickie's Winter Basin

The narrow entrance to Mickie’s Winter Basin was traversed by following the course we used coming in. The area that was nothing but large rocks and rapids when I saw it this morning at low tide in Lee’s tender was now smooth with a moderate outflow. We passed over those same large boulders that were now just below the surface.

 

Leaving Mickie's Winter Basin at high tide makes for a safe passage

Our destination was not far. We decided to anchor at the head of the adjacent large bay at the mouth of the river. Into the kayaks we went to enjoy a paddle up the river. From the end of the open portion of the river we made it another 100 yards into a large 1 foot deep “pond”. This area will dry quickly when the tide goes out only leaving the narrow stream, but for now it was tranquil. However, I didn’t want to dally long, as I had no intention of portaging my kayak if the tide got too low. We reversed course and rode the river’s flow into the receding tidal flow.

Karen paddling around the shallow “pond”

Karen playing around the head of the river. The area is a rocky falls when the tide recedes.

Gut Bay is large but beautiful

Karen is dwarfed by the surrounding mountains

These boulders sit “on the beach” at low water

When we returned to Arctic Star, we had been joined in the anchorage by our friends on Sonata. A quick pass by in the kayaks and fond farewells were exchanged until we meet again.

Sonata and Arctic Star anchored in Gut Bay

Saying goodbye to Lee on Sonata

There is an interesting phenomenon that we witnessed in this area where fresh water runs into a body of salt water. The fresh water sits on top at a depth of six feet or so. At the top of saltwater layer there forms a layer of algae. When you look into the water you think you are seeing the bottom, but it’s only this thin layer of green life. I’ve never seen this before, but we have now observed it a couple of times on the last few days.

With the kayaks on board, we headed north to Red Bluff Bay. This is a similar alpine feeling location to Gut Bay, but one that is much more popular. There are a couple of spectacular waterfalls in the entrance channel and the drying beaches are known to be frequented by brown bear.

The entrance to Red Bluff Bay

There was only one sailboat in the anchorage when we arrived. Karen was predicting there would be six boats, so we felt lucky. Around 7:30 pm a classic motor vessel Discovery anchored. They look as if they do “adventure cruising” in this 1930’s-ish motor yacht. The passengers were all on deck enjoying the views as the vessel approached and anchored. But as soon as the anchor was set, all hands disappeared to the main salon, presumably for dinner.

Another hour or two passed when we spotted a two masted steel sailing vessel. The Maple Leaf out of Canada made her appearance. The passengers on this ship where also out on deck. However they were all bundled up as if they had spent most of the day on deck in the elements. Such is the differences between a sailing and a motor vessel. She also anchored and we enjoyed watching the alpenglow over the mountains before heading off to bed.

Another beautiful sunset in Red Bluff Bay

Gut Bay

Up at 7 am today because low tide, a minus 1.5 foot low tide, was at 8am and I wanted to take a look. Our calculations predicted it would be no issue, but when you’re a boat length away from shore, you always want to double check.

A hearty egg scramble breakfast for a cold and wet day

Today was forecast to be rainy. The morning lived up to that prediction. It started raining sometime last night and was making a show this morning. The rain was constant and at times it was blowing 30 degrees to the horizon.

The rain, the low clouds, the cold chill; it was a day to stay in and read, read, write work on photos and relax. About 11 am, Karen spotted a boat approaching, a pleasure boat, the first we had seen in many a day. It approached slowly, looking as if it’s intentions might be to traverse the narrows back to Mickie’s Winter Basin. She was a metal boat, we guess about 60 feet in length and her name was Sonata.

Waterfalls abound as the rain feeds their tributaries

As she approached , I called her and talked with the captain. He asked if we were waiting for high slack to enter ourselves and I said we were most likely going to spend the day here, in the outer basin. He encouraged us to consider going in, given that in his opinion it was a special place. He was off to set some prawn traps during his wait for high slack.

That was enough encouragement and obvious local knowledge for us to get in gear and make our way to the inner basin. After all, if we did not like it, we could always return to our spot here, which we thought was pretty special.

Sure enough, about an hour later Sonata returned and made good her course through the narrow passage and disappeared. We lifted anchor and spent some time untangling about 50 foot of barnacle encrusted 3/8 twisted line from our anchor. Karen was not pleased.

We took the line on board and dropped it in about 300 feet of water so it would not foul another unwary boater’s anchor.

Through the pass we went, and Sonata was spot on, the inner basin is a very special place. The sides are steep to and reminded us of the Wasatch mountains in Utah. At the southwest end is a grassy low area, split by a fresh water runoff from the mountains, with a drying flat in front. There were a few waterfalls as well. Behind that the valley opens to a beautiful vista. It was both cozy and spectacular.

Sonanta at anchor in Mickie's Winter Basin, Gut Bay

This anchorage is ringed by alpine views with waterfalls all around

At the head of the bay is a large drying flat pierced by a freshwater stream

As I was writing this blog and Karen was deep into reading another book on her Nook, the tender for Sonata approached and invited us over for drinks later in the afternoon. I offered to bring the wine and the time was set for 5pm.

The rain continued, vacillating between steady, light and a downpour. I tasked myself to the galley to make beef Bolognese sauce, and my famous glazed meatloaf.

At 5 o’clock, our departure time to go visit Sonata, the skies started to show breaks as the rain decreased its relentless cascade. Sonata’s owner, Lee, was very gracious to come over and ferry us back Sonata in his covered tender. Lee was also the builder of Sonata. It’s a Bruce Roberts 62 foot design that Lee made his own, customizing it based on learning gleaned from many years of boat ownership. The list of special touches and features you would want are too long to list, but suffice it to say, it is a vessel I could see living aboard and cruising for extended periods.

Lee and his wife Diane have been living aboard for five, I as remember, years. On board were their friends Dave and Sharon from Bellingham, WA, who had joined them in Petersburg and who would be departing in about a week from Warm Springs Bay.

I am always reminded just what a small world this is. Sharon had lived and worked in the Philadelphia area and Diane has relatives right around the corner from  us. We also know a lot of the same people they do in the Bellingham, Seattle and Northwest Cruising areas. We had lots to talk about.

We shared stories, talked about places to visit in Alaska and other destinations,  and generally had a wonderful evening. An unexpected surprise was an invitation to dinner, “Only burgers” said Diane, but I must say they were some great burgers!

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We spend the night in a truly unique and special place

Cedar Bight to Gut Bay

Karen has taken over the blog, because Bob is cooking up a storm from our cozy anchorage in Gut Bay.

We awoke in Cedar Bight to light rain and clouds…of course. It always seems that way when we want to launch the kayaks. But we haven’t yet christened them on this trip, and time was awastin!  So after a quick breakfast, we got the 12ft Pungos  in the water and the rain stopped for a while. When Bob was making breakfast, I saw that crazy black bear again on the beach.

Karen loves her new Pungo Kayak

Cedar Bight makes for a good paddle

Arctic Star sits at anchor in Cedar Bight…notice the seal head just to the left of our boat

It was super to be back in the kayaks again. There is something magical about the peaceful sound of paddling and the fact that you are so near to the waterline. We decided to paddle to the head of the bay to check out what looked like a freshwater creek and then head for the small inlet we saw via dinghy the day before. As we were just starting to paddle…yes…you guessed it, I saw the black bear again, over on the east shore this time.

Bob set off paddling at a good clip, because we have been too far away for good bear pictures on this trip. The bear was unaware of us at first, but as he approached, the bear raised his head and kind of looked poised for action. What action? I wasn’t sure…but I surely let Bob take the lead in his kayak. I floated behind, ready to backpaddle at a moment’s notice.

Mr. Bear takes notice of us

The bear apparently didn’t like the sound of Bob’s camera clicking, and he started to amble away.  A few more splashes from the kayak paddles and he disappeared into the woods. That was OK with me.

Bob poses for a picture

The stream that feeds he head of the bay…good exploring by foot from here…bring the bear spray

We explored the head of the bay, and what we could of the creek. The entire time, a lone grey seal was following us, kind of tracking us but diving and making a fuss if he got closer than he intended. We thought the bear had a great beach, and as we departed the creek area I heard this bubbling sound and it was like a small fountain was under the water. The water wasn’t more than a few inches deep…and then all around there were smaller bubbles. We have no idea if it was a hot springs or really big geoducks. It was cool, though.

We headed over to the  inlet, crossing a shallow and rocky entrance to see a small inner bay, perhaps part of the bear’s beach patrol area. The seal followed us faithfully. We decided to just drift a while and see what happened with the seal.  It came closer and closer. It did NOT like the sound of Bob’s camera, but it seemed to like my “hey, sealie, sealie” voice, and it got close enough to be within two kayak lengths away. Bob got a pretty good picture of that.

Our curious friend followed us the whole time were explored the area

Back to the boat after about an hour, and we secured the kayaks before heading off to see Happy Cove, another anchorage in Tebenkof that sounded both small and nice. WRONG. It was pretty unappealing and I just wanted to get out. Bob liked Tebenkof, but had commented how it all looked pretty much “alike”…and with forecasts for rain on Saturday with wind, we decided to head off two days early for the east side of Baranof Island and Gut Bay.

We departed Tebenkof about 1:30. It was a long run across the Strait and we were glad our stabilizers helped offset the beam seas we faced. Behind us, Kuiu Island was enshrouded in fog and clouds, but we could see the mountains of Baranof beckoning. We saw eagles swooping and dive bombing some areas out in the Strait…we didn’t see them catch anything, and can’t imagine how long a flight they’ve have back to their crazy rocks in the Bay’s entrance if they actually caught something. Bob worked on pictures while I drove over to Mist Cove, the supposed site of a lovely waterfall.

The waterfall at Mist Cove

Sometimes I get a bit frustrated at the lack of info on Alaska…I love to research things to do and places to see, so I search published books as well as boater blogs. Guess I messed up somehow, because although we saw the pretty waterfall from the Strait, as soon as we entered the Cove, the waterfall was completely obscured by the trees, and the Cove was tiny and the head was now taken up by somebody’s float. So we left, me driving again, so Bob could get a few pix from back out in the Strait.

Another two  hours or so and we arrived at the entrance to Gut Bay. This was one that sounded pretty good, a remote and quiet Bay with few anchoring spots and some serious granite mountains on either side. It was absolutely impressive upon entering, and we actually had some blue skies peeking through the clouds to illuminate our way.  After the last two days in Tebenkof, we had seen no other boats at all – not pleasure boats, not fishing boats. I saw no boats either on the crossing of the Strait. Imagine our surprise to find a little fishing boat trawling away inside Gut Bay! He headed off for the head of the bay while we made our way down towards Mickie’s Winter Basin.

Entrance to Gut Bay…topography promises to be interesting

The scenery get better around every turn

The view from our first anchorage in Gut Bay

The rain makes the waterfall sing

This Basin was the site where a Frenchwoman and her companion wintered over in the ice(!!) in 1995. I can only imagine what that was like. By the time we approached the Basin, the tide was too low to enter over the narrow and shallow bar. So we decided to drop the anchor outside the basin. It was DEEP almost right to shore. Shore was dominated by tall mountains and multiple waterfalls, with trees right down to the shoreline. It was again…impressive. We ended up having to anchor in 70’, which still put us quite close to shore depending on how the wind blew. We were really tired though, and decided to stay put after watching the boat spin about and deciding we’d be safe for the evening. I made tuna fish melts to spell the chef, and we enjoyed the scenery and the bits of blue sky until about 10pm. The forecast for Saturday was Rain and Wind…and we expect to see at least the rain when we awake.

Bob helps the satellite phone make a connection to send and receive emails

An easy dinner…tuna melt

Shelter Cove to Cedar Bight

Alaska is Big. No, I mean REALLY BIG!!!!!

We’re in Tebenkof Bay. When you look at a chart of Alaska, Tebenkof does not appear to be all that large. But once you are here, it is enormous.  As we make our way to the various anchorages in Tebenkof, we continue to be bewildered by the distances. What looks like a mile is 6 miles…or more.

Baranof Island as seen from the entrance to Tebenkof

We’ll see a humpback feeding and decide to investigate further, and 45 minutes later we‘ll just be close enough to take some pictures. We’ve been out twenty days and our internal distance scale has not yet recalibrated. I wonder if when we get home after five weeks in Alaska, if everything will seem too close and cramped. Karen often feels that way anyway…so I suspect this time in Alaska will just intensify that feeling.

My first every frittata was a success

We left Shelter Cove late morning with a goal to visit the Eye of the Needle in Tebenkof. Now the Eye of the Needle sounds small and narrow. And when you look at the charts (and read the sole “guidebook”), it appears exactly that. However, due to the distorted perception of space and distance here, it’s not really that small. Relative to all of Alaska it is small, but in the absolute we have been through much narrower passes, with much less water with critical timings for tides and currents.

Entering the Eye of the Needle

Karen keeping warm at the Eye of the Needle

Our trip started at a plus 6 foot tide and that made the trip very comfortable. At the end, or the Eye, you anchor in 12 feet of water behind a small islet. It is beautiful and almost certainly you will be alone. Although we only stayed for an hour, we would definitely come back and plan to stay a couple of days and explore the back bay via Kayak – especially if the weather was sunny.

Another note on navigation. The word is that much of the charts of Alaska are incomplete in that there are rocks and other obstructions that are not charted. Knock on wood so far… but I have to say that the Nobeltec electronic charts we are using are spot on. Thus far, what we see on the charts matches what we see out our cabin windows. That is reassuring, although we are keenly skeptical and err on the cautious side.

Scale is also impacting our fuel calculations. When we’re in the Broughton Archipelago for three weeks, we never worry about fuel. At the end of our travels, we pull up to the fuel docks and we usually have half tanks or better. If my calculations are correct we have used 250 gallons of diesel to go 218 miles. That means 58% of our fuel remains. So today we did a little planning to make certain we’ll make it to our fuel stop in Kake with a good safety margin. The only way to calculate fuel usage is to look at the site gauge and, using a tape measure, determine how full the tanks are. Old fashioned methodology but compared to the electronic Computank device we have onboard that says we added six gallons of fuel today, I’ll definitely place more trust in the tried and true methods.

As we were entering The Eye of the Needle Karen, who has become quite a critter spotter, had sighted a humpback feeding out toward the entrance to Tebenkof Bay. So after the Eye and before we made our way down Petrof Bay for the day’s anchor spot, we took a detour to see what the humpback was up to. Sure enough, he was still there. We made our way over and sat and watched and took pictures for a while. He would come up from the depths, show his flipper, pound the surface of the water with it, and then emerge, mouth wide open, before submerging again. He traveled in a large circle near a shallow (60 foot) area. As we looked at our Nobeltec charts, it turns out that this is exactly the same spot we saw a humpback yesterday on our way into Tebenkof. I suspect that this fellow has staked out this area as his own.

Humpback feeding

High-Five from our friendly humpback

Petrof Bay is much larger than Shelter Cove, almost too large for us. However, Karen did spot two black bears at the head. Therefore it might be worth a return trip to anchor overnight and wait for low tide with hopes of seeing more bears feeding on the beach.

Our next stop was Cedar Bight, the next anchorage west of the head of Petrof bay. We took a small detour to visit a rocky outcropping where we had spotted seals earlier. They had deserted their small rock, but we were able to add seals (other than the ones floating on icebergs in Le Conte glacier) to the list of critters spotted on this trip. So far, seals are much less prevalent here than what we see in British Columbia. I don’t know if it’s just normal or the large population of sea otters keeps them at bay.

Cedar Bight is a cozy (by Alaska standards) anchorage. The large drying area at the south end features a freshwater creek. It has all the makings of a bear beach: flat, fresh water and lots of surface revealed at low tide. As I was fixing dinner in the galley below, Karen found her third black bear of the day. That fellow spent the better part of two hours combing every inch of the beach looking for tasty morsels.

The other big event that occurred while I was making dinner was the appearance of some sun and blue skies. What a change happens to the landscape and your mood when the sun comes out. We took lots of pictures and ran around the boat admiring what seems like a completely new environment. However, an hour later the clouds rolled back in and secured their rightful place in the Alaskan landscape. We come here expecting clouds and rain and tell ourselves we can deal with it. But in reality, we long for some sun.

Yes! We found the sun.

The mix of sun and clouds can be stunning

Karen ready to go exploring in the dinghy

Our spirits were lifted for a while and we enjoyed some curried chicken salad with flatbread. A no-cook (since I grilled the chicken last night with the pork) dinner.

Karen's favorite thing to eat on this trip. Curried chicken salad.

With our fuel plan secure and 50 foot of additional chain sitting on the bottom, we settled in for a quiet night. Tomorrow, we’ll  launch the kayaks and explore the small inlet to our east.

By the way…all we did today was “tool around” Tebenkof Bay. We put on over 28 miles.

Mud Hole to Shelter Cove

Looking out across Mud Hole bay this morning, all but two of the fishing vessels had departed by 7:30 am.

Mud Hole morning

We expected a good ride north today with winds forecast 25 knots and seas four feet on our stern. I plotted our course out of Port Malmesbury so we could go back and check out the beach where we spotted the bear feeding two days ago.

To our surprise, as we were making good the course to the “bear beach”,  Karen spotted a humpback whale. Naturally, we slowed and watched and we paralleled his course in the opposite direction. We watched for a while, but he was not in a mood to put on much of a show.

He was a shy critter. More interesting in eating then us.

With four foot seas predicted, we made certain the stabilizers were up and running long before we arrived at the end of Port Malmesbury and entered Chatham Strait. Looking out as we rounded Port Harris into Chatham Strait, we spotted a fishing fleet, at least twelve boats making a North-South, counterclockwise racetrack pattern with their gear in the water. Arctic Star had to make a run along the shoreline to keep out of the racetrack and the fishermen’s lines they trolled behind their boats. On VHF channel 10, we overheard one captain talking with another that so far they had only landed “a few small ones”.

A tough way to make a living, but you can't top the scenery

Eagle eye Karen let out a shriek. She had spotted a large humpback breaching out of the water just south of Point Cosmos. We steered a course 15 degrees to the west to get a closer look. Breaching whales are something both of us had only seen on TV. It was on our wish list of things to see on this trip, but the odds are thin that you should be so lucky. As you can see from the photos, we were indeed lucky. I counted four breaches, and one was close enough to the boat to get a good picture.

What a show! If I was a girl whale I would be impressed.

I suspect that the male was courting his companion. He would breach, and then slap one, then the other of his fins on the water in an attempt to make an impression. Then the pair would swim alongside one another for a while, disappear, and then the display would repeat. It takes a lot of energy to thrust a humpback whale out of the water, so after about 35 minutes things quieted down. Either he was resting, or his advances were successful and they got a room.

After a lot of splashing and jumping, the two would swim side by side

Of they went, I'm certain they'll be happy together

Critters were everywhere today. A sea lion surfaced just 30 feet from the boat to the surprise of both us and himself. As we approached the large entrance to Tebenkof bay, there are rocks on both sides of the entrance. Sitting on top of each rock were large birds. Out came the binoculars to determine the species. It was misty and with the reduced visibility, it was impossible to see any color, but the silhouettes looked just like Bald Eagles. It seemed improbable to us that bald eagles would be fishing out here in the ocean. Usually you see them sitting in a quiet cove fishing calm water. But yes, as we neared, there was no doubt that these were eagles.

Eagle Rock One

Eagle Rock Two

Continuing into Tebenkof bay, Karen again spotted humpbacks. We sighted at least one pair and a couple of solo animals. Eagles, Whales, a Sea Lion and lots of sea otters -- what a critter day.

Karen took the wheel and practiced her helmsmanship as we wove our way though slalom of islands back into Shelter Cove. Karen was musing that we wanted to see a raft of sea otters. Apparently they will congregate into a large group and float together. Sometimes they will even join up, flipper to flipper I guess, for reasons I know not why. Sure enough, there was a large group, maybe 30 animals floating as one. Not hanging on to one another, but still a tight group. I guess Karen has the magic touch today. Maybe she should ask for some sunshine and we’ll see what transpires.

They are all personality

Shelter Cove is just that. Nestled deep in Tebenkof, it is a medium sized cove, flat bottomed with twenty feet of water. We are protected on all sides, it is a great place to anchor.

We launched the dinghy in the rain and proceeded back though a narrow channel to the south that takes you to an inner bay. The channel is narrow and has its shallow spots, but at the right tide you could take a boat as large as Arctic Star in and anchor in the southern-most bay.

At the end is a stream that feeds into the salt water. We got out and walked a short distance up the stream to see what we could see.

Karen scopes out the beach and freshwater stream. The streams undermine the roots of the trees on its banks so there are always downed trees on the banks or fallen over the stream.

Freshwater streams make for great walks. They also signal bear might be in the area.

Karen found this rather large rock on the beach that had been dislodged and turned over. A bear?  We’ll never know, but we always yelled out “Yo bear” when were ashore and near a fresh water stream.

Yo Bear? After all, we’re from Philadelphia!

How big a bear does it take to lift this size granite rock?

Its dinnertime now…this is a truly spectacular anchorage. There are great views in all directions and the water now is mirror calm. Off for a glass of wine!

 

A peaceful anchorage in Mud Hole