|Run so far:
|Nautical Miles to go:
The mileage indicator above is wrong, and I'm not sure what to do about it.
It says that we have come 1,285 nautical miles (nm), which is accurate, but
it also claims we now only have 3,991 nm to go. In actuality, the weather has
been great, and we're running ahead of schedule, so we are making side trips
which were never planned. My guess is that we've added at least a hundred miles to our trip
just bouncing around the local area. Oh well... I'm sure you'll forgive me for
running MORE distance than we originally signed up for.
We are now positioned to exit the Inside Passage, on June 7th, venturing into the
Pacific Ocean. Here's a photo which gives you an idea of where we are:
Glacier Bay is about 55 nautical miles deep. (a
nautical mile is about 15% longer than a 'normal' mile). However, there are only three
or four anchorages. This isn't a problem, in that only a handful of
boats are allowed into the park at a time, and you feel as though you have
the whole place to yourself. Most of Glacier Bay is simply too deep to
anchor. We were mostly in waters over a thousand feet deep, and rarely saw
water under a hundred feet deep.
Our first night was spent at the North Sandy Cove anchorage, a spectacular
anchorage tucked in behind a couple of islands. There are two ways to
get into the anchorage; one of which is pictured above. This entrance looked
fine on the chart, but I took the more conservative approach, around Puffin
We departed early morning from Sandy Cove headed to the Marjorie Glacier; a
Several miles before arriving at the glacier we started seeing small icebergs. At first the ice was easily avoided, but it was rapidly
getting denser. There was so much floating ice we finally gave up steering around
it, and just tried to push it aside with the bow. Each iceberg was perhaps a
foot across, with the majority of the iceberg floating just beneath the
surface. Seabird had made this same run last year and made it all the way to
the glacier, so I knew that it was possible. However, we were still miles
away and there was just too much ice.
The ice wouldn't politely push away from the bow. Instead, it was pushing
down, and under the boat. CRUNCH!!! We heard a horrible crunching sound as
one iceberg went under the boat. Roberta was driving at the time, and I said
"One more and we turn around." Five minutes later, another loud
crunching sound from beneath the boat. That was it and we turned around.
Here's a photo of Seabird, deep in the ice, from their
trip to Glacier Bay last year. I wanted a similar picture of Sans Souci, but
didn't want to risk damage to the props or stabilizers. I am jealous of this
picture of Seabird, but, oh well...
The scale of everything at Glacier Bay is impossible to comprehend. A couple
of cruise ships a day are permitted into the park, but co-existing with them
is not a problem. Here you see a cruise ship we passed. This ship is probably
home to over 2,000 people, yet it looks tiny in comparison to the
We headed to an anchorage known as 'Blue Mouse.' En route, we passed by Reid
Inlet, and its glacier (pictured above). A few years ago, this was a
tidewater glacier, meaning that the glacier touched the water, but now, as
you can see, the glacier has retracted such that there is a beach separating
the glacier from the water.
It is possible to anchor in Reid's Inlet, just in front of the glacier, but
it is not very protected, and the weather reports were claiming a storm,
complete with five foot seas, would be coming.
Blue Mouse is an immense anchorage, surrounded by overwhelmingly beautiful
vistas. We dropped the tender and did some exploring. At the back of the
anchorage, there is a pass, easily navigable in a tender at high tide, which
would give us access to another large bay; Skidmore Bay. We started to head
in, but then I remembered the park rangers saying that some places were off
limits. I radioed to the ranger station who said "Skidmore is shut off
from visitors. Please do not enter. Thank you for asking." Darn. It was
probably good they said no. The tide was dropping rapidly and we wouldn't
have wanted to get caught in the wrong bay when the channel between the bays
While we were at the Blue Mouse anchorage, Grey Pearl was a hundred
miles away in Juneau picking up incoming crew, and Seabird had dropped anchor
at North Sandy Cove.
The next morning, as nice as Blue Mouse was, our guests wanted to go back to
North Sandy Cove, where the odds of seeing bears would be much higher. I
radioed Steven to ask what the weather was like: "Dead Calm" he
said. I reported to him the weather report I had heard, given by the rangers,
the prior evening. "Three foot seas, and 15 knot winds, becoming five
foot seas and 25 knot winds." Steven asked "Are you sure that is
for Glacier Bay?" I confirmed that it was. Both Steven and I were seeing
nothing but calm seas. Although our guests wanted to return to Sandy Cove, but I
didn't want to put them through rough seas. We had a group discussion, and
decided to go for it.
The weather report wasn't completely wrong. We did experience three foot
chop, but only for a couple of hours. Overall it was a very smooth ride, and
North Sandy Cove was beautiful on arrival.
Along the way, we were able to see an otter floating in the water. These are
very cute creatures who float on their backs. We were also able to see a
Puffin bird, which is a big deal in our family. Unfortunately, we didn't
even know we had seen it until I blew up the photo above, and there it was
(albeit blurry). Shelby, our dog, is a Norweigan Lundehund, which is a
puffin bird-hunting dog. We've always wanted to show her a puffin, just to see if
she would instinctually recognize it.
At North Sandy Cove, the weather was incredible, and we spent a couple days
just hanging out, enjoying our guests.
We took the tender out, and did see several black bears. No one was brave
enough to step ashore, we just floated along the shore, watching the bears eat,
and taking their pictures.
I know nothing about animals, so I was surprised to see the bears eating
clams. The bears seemed to like wandering the beach at low tide, looking for
clams. And, to my enormous surprise, the clams would shoot large streams of
water. We were fascinated seeing the clams randomly shooting out two foot
streams of water! It was like they were putting on a show for us.
Here's Seabird watching a bear from their tender (this picture was taken from our tender, just behind them)
My stepmom, Sandra Williams, Karen and Ray Hoffman, watching the bears from Sans Souci.
Karen and Ray Hoffman enjoying themselves in Glacier Bay -- with a black bear behind them..
Thus far, we've only seen black
bears. We hunted for the larger brown grizzly bears, and still haven't found
them. No worries. We'll see plenty of them in Kodiak and Geographic Harbor.
The picture above looks grainy because it is a capture from the video. I wish
I had it in higher quality, because arguably, this is amongst the most
important photos posted on my blog. It captures better than I ever could
with words the essence of what boating is really about. Here you see all the
key elements for a perfect day: friends, the barbecue, an incredible
anchorage, music, steaks, and wine. Life don't get much better.
It was disappointing to leave North Sandy Cove, but we had to take our guests
to the airport in Gustavus for their flight home. Here you see Seabird
pulling anchor. Like us, they have a high pressure chain wash. Frequently,
the chain and anchor come back to the boat coated with mud. Our prior boat
didn't have an anchor wash and it was miserable standing on the bow with a
hose trying to get the anchor clean, and then clean all the mud off the bow.
I'll never be without one again!
We had been recommended to visit the town of Pelican Cove, which is about 10
miles back a narrow channel.
As we approached Pelican, we were close enough to the Pacific, the Gulf of
Alaska, to see the water that we'll soon be traversing. We're randomly exploring now, but the
trip will turn serious, on June 7th, when we start across. I have been tracking
the weather in the Gulf, and as predicted, it looked remarkably calm. The
forecast for the next three days called for 15 knot east winds, with six foot
seas. This sounded VERY good, and triggered a conversation between ourselves
and Seabird on whether or not we should "just go for it." With blue
skies, plenty of fuel, a great weather report, and calm seas, what was
stopping us? We were fairly serious for a few minutes, and then realized it
just wasn't practical. Grey Pearl was still in Juneau, and many friends have
been looking forward to seeing us off. The idea was discarded.
Pelican Cove is a very small town, and a very attractive one. I saw one
estimate claiming 100 year-round residents.The entire town is built on
stilts, and all the homes border the waterfront. There is a fish
processing plant, which is closed and up for auction. The grocery store is
linked to the fish processing plant, and was also out of business. Someone must still believe in the town,
because there is a new nine
million dollar facility going in to generate power from a nearby stream. We
watched some of the construction and were very impressed.
Pelican is home to the infamous Rose's Bar and Grill.
L to R: John Buchan (Flyer), Steven Argosy (Seabird), Ken Williams (Sans
Souci), Rose, Gloria Buchan (Flyer), Roberta Williams (Sans Souci), Carol
In the picture you see our friends, John and Gloria Buchan, who keep a small
boat in Juneau for local cruising during the summer.
In an effort to liven things up Rose talked our wives into tending bar. I'd say it worked.
Our plan had been to stay several days in Pelican, but our wives started
talking about going to anchor at Dundas Bay. My friend John has been coming to Dundas
for a decade and considers it one of his favorite anchorages in Southeast
Alaska. Everyone was quickly convinced, so at 6am the next morning, we were
underway for the 36nm run from Pelican to Dundas.
Dundas is a gorgeous, but lesser known anchorage, just west of Glacier Bay.
Entering Dundas is simpler than it
appears on the charts. There is plenty of water, and no current. Until
recently, there were no depths on the charts for the bay, which severely
limited access. My friend John mentioned being at anchor, many years ago, when a 100 passenger
cruise ship entered the bay and struck an uncharted rock. The boat sank, and
John assisted in the rescue. (No one was injured or hurt.)
As we would be anchoring eight miles back a narrow channel, next to the rock
where the cruise ship sank, I decided it might be a good time to work on my Sonar
skills. I advised Seabird of my intention to run very slowly down the channel.
It was a useful exercise, and I am happy to report that the charts were accurate. When we get to the Aleutians, there will be bays where the
charts can't be trusted, and the Sonar will come in handy.
Dundas is an incredible
anchorage! As you can see in the photos above, the weather, and the bay, is too good to be
We even saw a wolf. How can you distinguish a wolf from a dog? I don't know. I'm not sure what he is eating.
The skeleton appears to be an animal, or at least I hope so...
As you can imagine, an anchorage this awesome creates a perfect opportunity for filling the
hot tub! Here's the view from Sans Souci's hot tub. Not too shabby! One very
strange thing: We tend to hit the hot tub late at night. Last night we were in
after 11pm, and it was daylight! There are very few hours of darkness here. I'm
not complaining! When the cruising is this good, I'll take all the hours I can.
And, on a completely different topic...
We've been talking about whales recently, so here's a "whale story"
from John Marshall, on Serendipity (Nordhavn 55), presently at Juneau, where our third GSSR
"...we're a couple of slips over from Braun and Tina on Gray Pearl, and two more slips away from Stan and Diane on Crossroads. In Auke Bay/Juneau.
We'll all going up in a chopper this afternoon to buzz the glaciers.
Weather is so warm and brilliantly sunny that my pilot house is too hot, even with doors and windows open. Going to get hotter the next few days. But no way I'm going to turn the AC on in Alaska and piss off the local weather gods. The audacity of that would probably guarantee us 40 days and 40 nights of rain.
Stan and I froze our asses off on Friday fishing for salmon in the rain, so today is most welcome.
We damn near got done in by a humpback this morning... Stan and I were both
exiting the marina in our dinks when a humpback breached high into the air right
in the marina entrance, right in front of our (suddenly) very, very tiny dinks.
We killed our engine and just sat there, hearts pounding shouting "Holy SH*T!". Impressive to the point of being scary.
Braun on Gray Pearl had been watching the whale (they weigh about 80,000 pounds) working his way along the breakwater, and saw it go airborne right in front of us, but we weren't paying attention and had no clue the whale was there until we were looking up at it. Needless to say, that's a different experience than looking down on it from our tall boats.
And, lastly.... I haven't posted anything technical in a while. To be honest, the boat has been running so flawlessly, that other than changing the oil in the generator,
I've hardly been in the engine room. Therefore, to keep the technical amongst you interested, I'm passing along this message that I posted last week on
the NordhavnDreamers Yahoo group. There was a discussion on generator usage, and I was sharing with the group how we use the generator aboard Sans Souci.
|"...I did something unusual on Sans Souci, with respect to the generator, and power, that has worked out well.
First a quick overview of Sans Souci's electrical system:
- 14kw of inverter capacity (a huge amount)
- 20kw and 25kw generators
- 1500 amp hour (at 24v) battery bank
The 20kw generator has auto-start, meaning it can be set to come on whenever the boat senses low voltage. There is a button I can flip to control the generator manually if I prefer.
Our standard mode of operation, on Sans Souci, is to run the boat off of the inverters. With 14kw of capacity, there are few limits as to what we can run. With the generator in auto-start mode, it decides on its own when the batteries need charging. The generator is so quiet that the only way we know it is running is to look at the gauge in the pilot house.
When a lot is happening on the boat (stove, a/c, washer, etc) the generator kicks in about every six hours, for four to six hours.
In other words, it runs about half the time. At night, when little is happening, the boat seems to run ten to twelve hours before the generator fires.
I would say that we have accomplished my original goal, of reducing almost completely the focus on power management. We have plenty of power, and the generator runs no more or less than it is needed.
One very important part of all this is our diesel furnace (Kabola). It is responsible for space heating and water heating. The Kabola uses almost no electricity, and very little fuel. We have seemingly infinite hot water on Sans Souci, without the electrical spikes I've had on other boats as the water heater kicks on and off. Anyone designing a boat, of any size, should seriously consider adding a diesel furnace (we had one on our 27' power-cat, so they aren't just a big-boat item)
In a similar vain, I just added soft starts to our a/c units (VFDs), which allow the a/c to kick in with no electrical surge.
The bottom line:
By adding complexity, I've eliminated virtually all focus on power management. However, as a rule of thumb, complexity on a boat is a bad thing. This said, all is working flawlessly, and the boat has been a real joy.
That's it for today. I do have some great video of the bears and ice, and even
took some video in the engine room, as several of you requested. Unfortunately,
my internet is very borderline here, and I can't upload the video to my server.
Maybe a few days from now.
N6805, Sans Souci