Circumnavigating Admiralty Island

Circumnavigating Admiralty Island

On my 60th birthday, my wife gave me the gift of an Alaska cruise.  This gave me a chance to be with my family for over a week in an amazing place - something that would never happen backpacking or on an extended kayaking trip - so in many ways it was the perfect gift. 

For someone who isn't friend or family, or might be bored with a summary of an Alaska cruise, I apologize, and suggest that you might scan the photos.   For anyone curious, I'll try to do my best job, here.    

The trip started out with the wedding of my nephew, Patrick, in Portland, Oregon, and then a quick drive up to Sea-Tac Airport and hopping up to Juneau.  We had an entire day in Juneau, and this allows me to introduce the cast of characters:

Me - somewhat scatterbrained academic, who plays banjo

Karen - loving spouse (she likes the term 'spouse' over 'husband', 'wife', or 'partner')

James - eldest son, who plays guitar and brought along my backpacking guitar

Phoebe - eldest daughter - ready to start a new job with the DOJ in Manhattan

Charlotte - younger daughter - ready to start a new job in Chile

Santiago - Charlotte's boyfriend, who lives in Santiago (go figure)

Marion - Karen's friend from when she was a teenager

Renee - Karen's friend from when she was four years old

Maddie - Marion's daughter, who I recently learned was named for Madeline Albright

On the cruise itself, we became known as the Karen Clan - for somewhat obvious reasons, and also because the Tlingit - the first peoples of the area, have a matrilineal inheritance and identify as specific clans. 

Once in Juneau, we had a full day before we departed on the cruise.   We decided to hike up to the base of the Mendenhall Glacier.    This is very close to Juneau, and is receding at quite a pace.   Karen, Renee, and Marion hiked the east trail, and I and the young 'uns hiked the west trail that goes all the way up to the foot of the glacier itself.  The cairn trail, as it's called, has a set of signs set in rocks that gives the year when the foot of the glacier was in a given spot.   Two things came to mind - one is the speed the glacier is receding.   The second is found in a sign for 1985 that sits in a forest well on its way to being a climax, with deciduous trees all around.   

Foot of Mendenhall Glacier - on this trip.  Don't blink, this section will be gone next year. 

Phoebe, Maddie, and Santiago on the top of a hill at the foot of the glacier. 

Tour group hiking around on the glacier. 

The next day was the scheduled departure of the cruise, but we had one last go-round.   There's a hill in Juneau called Mount Robert, which has a tram that runs up to the top of it from the waterfront.  A bunch of us hiked up it at various speeds.   Here, a word is in order about the weather.   When you mention Southeast Alaska, the main thought is 'rain'.   But, we seemed to catch the best weather ever.   For ten straight days, there was no rain at all, and for most of the time, there was nothing but clear blue skies.  

We made it down to the waterfront, where the giant cruise ships docked.   By far, these were much larger than any of the tallest buildings in Juneau.   By my estimate, some were 12 stories tall, seven of which were devoted to staterooms for the passengers.   People would swarm off the boats during the day, looking for various excursions onshore.   The local Juneau-ians (is that the word) made good money from the trade of the cruise ships, but they were also something of a curse in the short summer months.    Our boat, by contrast, was hardly noticeable.   The Island Spirit had a capacity for 30 passengers.   It was moored next to a fish processing factory.   

Island Spirit 

Karen called the cruise "glamping" (glamor camping), but it was actually quite well appointed, with a happy hour every evening, and very good food.   The rooms weren't huge, but I spent most of my time on the upper deck to be closer to the surroundings.   

Below is a chart with our route overlaid.   Each red star indicated where we anchored each night.  Because the Island Spirit was relatively small, the Captain could get into relatively small harbors and bays to anchor each night.  

Outline of the cruise.  The path in red is counterclockwise around Admiralty Island. 

First evening, we went out of Juneau and anchored in a small unnamed bay on the Mansfield Peninsula on the north end of Admiralty Island.  The first evening was mainly an orientation, getting situated and the like.   Because the cruise was mostly sheltered from the Pacific, there were nearly no swells, so seasickness wasn't an issue.   

The next morning, we pulled the anchor, and motored past Point Retreat on the northern end of Admiralty Island. 

Lighthouse on Point Retreat

Most of the lighthouses in Southeast Alaska have been put up for sale, and buyers try to use them for various means.   The one on Point Retreat is now a bed and breakfast.   Just as we were passing the lighthouse, someone spotted a humpback whale playing off of Hump Island to our north.  We got relatively close to it and saw some of the pectoral finds, and saw it's tail go up when it sounded.  It was a first glimpse, in any case.   We then turned south into Chatham Strait that runs to the west side of Admiralty Island.  

I had several charts of the area, so I followed along, and the Captain (Chuck) was kind enough to confirm our position on the charts.   The night before, the entourage was on the top deck ...er...partying it up just a bit.   Chuck came up after anchoring saying "Oh, so this is where the cool kids are."   We were close to being the youngest on board, which is not surprising for an Alaskan cruise. 

Our destination that night was Pavlof Harbor in Freshwater Bay.   What's the most striking about any cruise in Alaska is the sheer scale of everything.   While people may ooo and ahhh about Mount Desert Island in Maine, the mountains are higher and all over the place in Alaska.   As Karen put it, 'it's like Maine on steroids'.    In the harbor, the kayaks were put out, and some of us paddled to the outlet of a creek where brown bears were known to feed.   In fact, there was a group of sightseers who had come in by float plane to see the bears feeding on salmon.   Alas, there were no bears to be seen, but it was a nice paddle to get out. 

At around five the next morning, there was a commotion with people scurrying to the bow.   It turns out that a brown bear and her two cubs were sauntering down the beach toward the creek.   

Bear and cubs in Pavlof Harbor.

On the trip, bears were kind of elusive, but we spotted them every once in awhile.   One of the crew said that they look like rocks that move, which pretty much sums it up from the perspective of a cruise.    

We pulled up anchor and went into the next embayment, Tenakee Inlet, and the town of Tenakee Springs.   Tenakee was the only town we visited along with way.   It has 130 people living there, according to the 2016 census.    There's a b-and-b in town, and a bakery that boasts the best cinnamon buns around.   We visited there, and took a short hike. 

House in Tenakee Springs. 

Every so often, there was a reminder of our high latitude - 58 degrees North.  The satellite dishes in Tenakee were pointed almost horizontally.  Geostationary satellites that transmit to the ground hover over a fixed point over the equator, and the receiving dishes have to be pointing toward them.  In Boston, the satellite dishes are angled upwards, but in Tenakee, they're pointing at a much lower angle. 

Some of us on the hike near Tenakee Springs.

As we were leaving Tenakee, I spotted some people setting up tents on the shore, and noticed some sea kayaks pulled up.  I went over and struck up a conversation with the group, mostly women.  They were from Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory.   About a week previously, they drove to Skagway and took the ferry, part of the Alaska Marine Highway to the town of Hoonah, which is north of Tenakee.  They paddled up the fiord of Port Frederic, and did a short portage into Tenakee Inlet, and then down to Tenakee, waiting on the ferry, which was due in the next day.   

We pulled out of Tenakee and continued south.  Captain Chuck asked what we wanted to do - there wasn't a fixed itinerary, and we had some options.   Most people in our group wanted to do something active, like go kayaking in the morning.   We pulled into the next anchorage, Takatz Bay, and the crew put out the kayaks, and also the motorboat.    The next day, we had a nice long paddle around the Bay.   I managed to find a stream leading into it, and pushed up against the current that I reckon to have been about 3 to 4 knots.   There were salmon all over the place, darting around.   A some moment, a huge bald eagle soared over me.   It was a slice of heaven, and I momentarily forgot that I was paddling in what was probably an ideal fishing site for brown bears. 

Sea Otters in/near Takatz  Bay

After lunch, and a final paddle, we pulled up anchor and began to motor around the southern end of Admiralty Island.   A fairly strong wind was blowing from the north, and when we rounded Point Gardner, there was a big current moving against the wind.  This patch of disturbed water was about 3-4 miles long - not something I'd want to be caught in with a kayak. 

Current against wind at the south end of Admiralty Island. 

That evening, we ended up on Pybus Bay, on the east side of Admiralty Island, and anchored up.  

I should mention that I brought my banjo along, and James brought my backpacking guitar.   Because the banjo is my old 'beater', and the backpacking guitar takes some getting used to, our practices were a little rusty, but we got better as the trip wore on.   In particular, I've been trying more harmony singing - in part because James takes the lead with our 'band' called the "Heartbreak Hillbillies" - so I figured without the others around to do harmony, I might as well do it.   I even found that I could pretty much hit the notes, although my tone definitely needs work.  I suppose pitch is the first thing, and then work on tone.  

After Pybus bay, we motored to a group of islands called The Brothers.   There's a somewhat 'standard' kayak route along the inside passage.    There's a 10 mile crossing from the mainland to Admiralty Island, and this passes through a cluster of islands called the Five Fingers, and then the Brothers, allowing the crossing to be broken up into only 3 mile segments.    

We anchored off the Brothers, and the motor boat was launched.   The destination was a small island where sea lions gathered.   It was impressive, and smelly, too.   There were some battles between males vying for domination. 

Sea lions off of The Brothers

Boat framed against the coastal range.

After the Brothers, we pulled up anchor and motored around the Five Fingers, which had a magnificent lighthouse on one of them. 

Lighthouse on five fingers

After motoring past the lighthouse, a mother and baby humpback whale were spotted, and pretty soon, we saw an example of bubble netting.   In bubble netting, a group of several humpbacks get together to concentrate herring an krill by make a bubble net.   They go underwater, create a ring of bubbles that corrals the fish, and then they all charge up through the concentration of fish with mouths open.   This went on for a couple of hours - very impressive. 

Humpback whales bubble netting.  

After the bubble netting, we pulled into Hobart Bay, which is on the mainland.  

View of Hobart Bay at sunset

Rob, the cook on the cruise came upstairs to shoot the breeze.   It turns out that he was in the army infantry during the battle of Fallujah.    That didn't sound terribly fun.   However...he said that he sometimes sets up a hammock on the upper deck to spend the night.   He set it up, and allowed me to sleep in it that night in Hobart Bay.    

In the morning, we had a little wait as we had to time our departure to get into our next anchorage in a place called Fords Terror, which has a narrow opening that the boat can only get through at the highest high tide, during slack water.   There's only a 15-20 minute window of opportunity.   

The water was quite still and there was a reflection of the rock in the still water at high tide that created an interesting geometric effect with a symmetry the reminded me of a totem pole, so I did some photoshop cropping and rotation to create a kind of abstract that looks like a totem pole. 

Rock reflections - rotated vertically

We began motoring up to Holkum Bay, which has two fiords, the Tracy Arm and the Endicott Arm.  During the most recent glaciation, the Wisconsonian, both arms had glaciers that made it all the way down to the end, and retreated over the past 10,000 years.   There is a submerged moraine at the end of Endicott Arm, and this creates an upwelling of sea life - great for whales to feed.   We saw maybe five or six at one time feeding.   We were told that this was 'lunge feeding' - I'm not totally sure what lunge feeding is, but there was definitely a lot of coordination by anywhere from two to six whales, where they swam together in parallel and then all dove at the same time. 

Lunge feeding

After viewing the feeding some time, we went up Endicott Arm to enter Fords Terror.    Fords Terror is a long, deep fiord, with very steep mountain walls surrounding it.   The entrance, however, is quite shallow and narrow.   During the flood and ebb tide, there can be strong currents, up to about 8 knots running.   Ships can only pass at high slack tide.   

The name of the fiord comes from a ship's captain, named Ford, obviously, who got into the fiord at high tide, but then got trapped by the rapids, and evidently was terrified, thinking he couldn't get out, but ultimately he did.   Sea kayakers and surfers like to play in the currents, catching the top hydraulic and riding it.   We entered at 'precisely' high slack tide, but even then, there was evidence of a confused current running. 

Entrance to Fords Terror at slack high tide. 

We anchored up in one of the arms of Fords Terror.   It's a magnificent sight, and the photos don't do it justice - how big it is. 

View of Fords Terror from anchorage.

Karen and some of the crew at anchorage at Fords Terror.  From left: Jake, the deckhand, Captain Chuck, Karen, and Rob, the cook. 

The next morning gave us a chance to do some kayaking.   I headed to the other arm of the the fiord, where there were some shallows and current running  - at about 4 knots, I reckon.   I worked my way up by eddy hopping and got a nice ride back down. 

Phoebe and Maddie kayaking in Fords Terror

Char, Phoebe, and Maddie jumping into Fords Terror

After the paddling, the crew invited the guests to jump into Fords Terror from the boat.   The water temp was 42 degrees (F), but we weren't in very long, so it was quite refreshing.   After that, we pulled up anchor and exited the fiord again at high slack tide, and motored up Endicott Arm and up to anchor in Dawe's Bay, a few miles from the tidal glacier of the same name. 

In the morning we made it out.   Dawes Glacier is quite popular, as there is a lot of ice that calves off and into Endicott Arm.   In fact, it takes a lot of tricky steering to get close to the glacier as there are many berg-bits floating around.    We saw many calving events, but they're tricky to capture via a camera.   I did get a nice photo of arctic terns resting on one of the iceberg bits in the water. 

This was kind of our last hurrah for the trip.   After we'd inched back out of the ice in Endicott Bay, we motored back up to Juneau, and docked.   

I'll mention here some more of the crew.   I've already said something about Captain Chuck, and Rob, the cook.   There was Doctor Dan.  He's an anthropologist from the University of Alaska Southeast, and has extensive knowledge of Tlingit culture.   Dan gave a number of naturalist talks.   It seems that each cruise is a bit different, and he wasn't going to join in the next cruise.  

The Tlingit are the first people of the region of Southeast Alaska.   Their language is something of a mystery as there is no affinity with neighboring language groups, although there is some evidence to suggest that the Tlingit language has relations to indigenous Siberian language groups.  If so, there's probably a fascinating history buried in this, if we could only unpack it. 

Dan kayaked a lot of the coast, and had some helpful suggestions for good kayaking.   In addition to Dan, there was the first mate, Nick.   For some time, Nick was a sea kayaking guide, and also had good suggestions.   The 'convergence' of suggestions seemed to focus in on the Mystic Fiords region of the Tongass National Forest.  This is near Ketchikan.     

In parting, let me mention that I was out of internet contact for eight days on this cruise, which was absolutely delightful - particularly not have to learn about the stupid tweets from you-know-who.