It’s time for a catch up with Fredrik and Nancy and their Salish Voyager, Wild Places! (See their previous blog posts here.) Here’s a pair of updates they sent us from their travels so far this summer…
6/7/2022: Greetings from Ketchikan
We are now nearly a year into our expedition, and a month into our second summer, with our Salish Voyager. May has been good to us, with lots of fine weather and fair winds.
We feel like we finally have our systems figured out. We can swap between rowing and sailing in about a minute. If the anchorage is straight forward, we can have “Wild Places,” anchored on a retrieval system to shore in 10 minutes.
From the bird migration in Rocky Pass and springs first baby animals, to an uninvited visitor in camp and some creative anchoring, it has been a month of change and adapting to the situation. Here are a few photos and captions to tell the story.
From here we will circumnavigate Revillagigedo Island. Then—if Dixon Entrance is in the mood to let us through—we will head into Canada and southward.
Hover to see captions and tap to enlarge photos… and make sure you scroll down for part 2!
We left our winter home in Baranof Warm Springs Bay on May 6th.
On our first day, we rowed across Chatham Strait and around Point Gardner. Great sailing winds came up for the 11 nautical mile crossing of Fredrik Sound.
That night with 23 nautical miles and three major cruxes behind us, we pulled in to camp on a tropical looking beach.
The grassy wetlands of Rocky Pass were perfect for catching the spring bird migration. Sandhill cranes, canada and white-fronted geese, green-winged teals, plovers, dunlins, dowitchers and thousands and thousands of western sandpipers attended the event.
Nancy rowing under a dramatic sky in Sumner Strait.
An unpredicted wind storm and surf on the beach led us to seek a creative anchoring option nearby.
Rowing against the 5.5 knot currents of Wrangle Narrows wasn’t an option. For us, going with the flow meant getting up and on the water at 2:45 a.m.
Rowing next to the ice bergs of Leconte glacier, the furthest south tidewater glacier in North America.
As we approached Petroglyph Beach outside of Wrangell, we found one sandy landing place on an otherwise rocky shore line. “Wild Places” safely ashore, we discovered the landing had been cleared by the Tlingit for landing canoes.
One evening when dinner was eaten and camp set up, we heard a splash. A Brown Bear was swimming to shore. This bear was unique. She was not aggressive, but refused to give us our space, or acknowledge our attempts to establish our temporary territorial status in the area. She finally retreated to the forest. However, grumbling from the woods let us know she was not happy with the situation. We knew that a good nights sleep wasn’t to be had on that beach, so at 8:30 p.m. we moved on.
Low light and a glassy sea around a steep, rocky headland made for one of the most enjoyable rows of the trip. We settled in, to sleep soundly on a new beach, about midnight.
Fredrik enjoys some light wind sailing, after a long day of rowing, until he notices that a local current is cancelling out all forward progress
6/22/22: Back in Ketchikan…Tired, Humbled and Hungry.
The promise of real wilderness, natural hotsprings and gigantic granite walls was what lured us into a 165 nautical mile circumnavigation of Revillagigedo Island. (Straight lines don’t seem to be our forte.)
Our nearly month long loop through Behm Canal held all the spectacular wilderness we had been hoping for, plus plenty of challenges.
In the upper reaches of Behm Canal, we couldn’t get a marine weather forecast for six days. The current table’s 0.5 knot predictions didn’t match the river we found ourselves rowing against. We didn’t see another boat for days. It was as if the world had forgotten about us.
The hot springs provided a delightful respite, and a much needed bath. Misty Fjords National Monument was a flooded Yosemite. It was the fjords of Norway without roads. It also put finding a place to camp, and anchor the boat, at the top of our hierarchy of needs. We found ourselves grinding against Southeast headwinds, at a pace slow enough to count banacles. We encountered strong erratic head winds, got blown off the water at 8:30 a.m, and came the closest we have come so far to having a shipwreck.
Returning to Ketchikan to regroup and buy more food, we ran into several recent R2AK finishers who had encountered even more epic drama on their journey. Thanks to the Ketchikan Yacht Club for giving us this great space to reorganize. We have decided to return to our slower, pace and our partially subsistence lifestyle; as well as to return north with hopefully more favorable winds for the rest of the summer. Next stop Prince of Whales Island.
The steep rocky coastline in Behm Canal made for challenging camping and anchoring.
The trail to Bailey Bay hot springs had a few rough sections.
Fishing at the mouth of Walker Cove was delightful, albeit we didn’t catch anything, again. We usually count on fish for dinner a few times a week.
Rowing into Walker Cove on glassy water.
A couple hours later, conditions were very rough, our anchor had dragged, and retrieval lines were wrapped on a huge submerged boulder. As the tide lowered, we were able to free her, climb aboard, and sail under bare poles to a better anchorage at the back of the bay.
This small rock slab and tidal area became our bivy site for the night with high tide lapping at our toes.
Wild Places at anchor in rough water.
Taking turns enjoying morning coffee, and rowing at 4:30 a.m. became our habit, as 20-30 knot headwinds often started abruptly mid-day or earlier.
Wild places anchored to a gigantic cedar beach log makes us feel small and insignificant.
Back in Ketchikan to re-stock supplies. We meet R2AK finishers with their own stories to tell!