Geographic Harbor

Geographic Harbor

By Mark Ward

On a rainy weekend in June, we kicked the dock in Seward and headed for Geographic Harbor.  Our journey would take us through some 600 nautical miles of sailing among the Kenai Fjords, Shelikof Straits and to Geographic Harbor on the Alaska Peninsula, home of MANY brown bears.

For the first couple days and nights we battled with the remnants of a multitude of low pressure fronts that had converged on the area leaving behind, big seas, strong williwaws and damp conditions.  As we traveled with Mirage, we were able to catch up with Tlingit in Verdant cove, which had left a couple days earlier, but had also been pinned down by weather.  We sailed out of Verdant for Tonsina and after rounding Aialik cape, sailed broad reaching or running with consistent 20-28 knots of wind from the northwest.  Radiance continued to sail wing-on-wing and surfing down building seas to McArthur Passage, then through the pass with 26 knots on the stern.  It was a bit of a white knuckle experience, but quite exhilarating sailing 11.5 knots SOG through McArthur Pass, with the crashing waves and shoreline just yards off the beam.  WOW.  After shooting through the pass, it was amazingly calm on the other side, yet we still had the wind to sail on and through Nuka Passage.  We made Tonsina and rested up for the next days long crossing.

Next morning we started with a reefed main and blasting back out into 26 knots, then reaching down the coast to Gore Point.  The wind and waves continued to subside as I shook out the reef and we pointed to Cary Inlet on Shuyak Is. some 90 miles away.  The clouds slowly cleared as we sailed in 20-26 knots downwind, surfing on the long waves.  Poling out the genoa, Radiance made good distance sailing wing-on-wing and we watched a humpback whale breach completely out of the water and land in a giant splash of energy.  As we approached Shuyak Is. We were met by many finback whales, otters and a beautiful view of Mt. St. Augustine steaming away in the setting sun.  The long day found us anchored inside Cary inlet with a beautiful sunset and glass calm waters.  The kids kayaked around in the sun and Dana and I enjoyed cocktails in the warm evening sun before dinner.  Next day we enjoyed beach excursions and Piper even saw a baby fawn in the woods, barely able to stand.  Later, we took a dinghy excursion out of the inlet, pulling the kayaks and explored skiff passage which connects to Big Bay, a world class kayaking destination.  Exploring a small islet on the way back, we were surprised to see VERY fresh brown bear sign and kept the kids close as they collected chitin shells.

When the tide was high enough, we pulled the hook and made for Kukak Bay across Shelikof Straits on the Alaska Peninsula.  Motor sailing in calm seas, Mirage made the move to catch up and set the spinnaker and was followed closely by Tlingit doing the same.  It was perfect broad reach spinnaker sailing with flat seas and light winds.  Another long day and we were finally met by the fabled inhabitants of the Alaska Peninsula, the brown bear.  As we pulled into Kukak Bay, we began counting bears on the beach and had tallied 14 by the time we anchored around the back side of a small island.  All 3 boats rafted for Tanguire & Tonics and dinner, toasting our arrival as we watched a bear feeding just off the beach.

The next day we sailed out into Shelikof and turned south for Geographic Harbor, about 30 miles away.  The wind building out of the northeast made for another downwind run as we raced along in the blustery conditions sailing wing-on-wing.  A large pod of porpoises joined us, swimming hard to keep up as the wind topped 30 knots and things began to get interesting.  With a preventer rigged on the full main and the jib polled out, we were overpowered and I called Mirage on the radio to warn of the strong winds they’d soon encounter.  Mirage had already been hit by the gusts, resulting in a broken vang block.  With the untamed full mainsail out and a full 130% jib, they had their hands full trying to hand steer and wrestling some sail under control.  We all shot into the relative calm of Geographic Harbor and were relieved to get the sails furled. The sun was shining, we’d just had an exhilarating passage and we’d arrived at our main destination.  Tucking inside the Northern bight, we were met by a large brown bear on the nearby shoreline.  At the top of the food chain with no natural enemies, brown bears reign supreme in this spectacular volcanic landscape that is Geographic Harbor.

From June 6^th to June 8^th, 1912, Novarupta exploded, blowing 15 cubic kilometers of volcanic material into the air.  Ten times more powerful than the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helen’s, this would be the largest eruption of the 20th century.    Atmospheric effects were worldwide and there were earthquakes reported daily as far away as Cold Bay for the 70 days following the eruption.  Animal and plant life was decimated by ash and acid rain. Bears and other large animals were blinded by ash and starved when large numbers of the plants and small animals they lived on were wiped out. Millions of dead birds that had been blinded and coated by volcanic ash littered the ground and some neighboring native villages were abandoned…forever.

The mountains surrounding Geographic Harbor still gleam with pulverized white pumice and volcanic ash.   Its many islets are now skirted by white sand beaches that look almost tropical.  Since the event, nature has reclaimed the land which now teams with bears, deer and otters.  As part of Katmai National Park, Geographic Harbor remains one of the most wild and untouched places on earth.  This is why we came.

Rising for the early morning minus tide, Dana and I joined John Baker for a clamming expedition.  We counted 5 brown bears doing some clamming of their own as we made our way to a sandy spit located between two islands.  With relative good visibility, and with shotgun in hand, we kept a sharp lookout for our furry competition.  Once we figured out where the clams were, it was easy digging and soon we had dug two buckets of clams.  Returning to Radiance, I whipped up some pancakes and bacon, enticing the kids out of bed.  The day was shaping up to do some exploration of the surrounding area and we gathered up the gang for a dinghy trip.  On a protected white sand beach, we relaxed in the sun. The kids made sand castles and took turns burying each other with sand.  The lush foliage and aqua colored water looked almost tropical as we watched a 65 foot French ketch sail into the bay.  After the kids had enough sand, we hopped in the dinghy and motored around to the next islet when I commented to the kids to “keep a sharp eye out for bears.”  At that moment, dead ahead, was a large brown head sticking out of the water and looking at us.  I cut the motor as she lazily pulled herself up on the rocks, posing for photos.  She kept an eye on us, but seemed unconcerned and we watched her scratch her backside against the rocks and eat grass.  The breeze was slowly pushing us toward her and as I looked up from the camera lens, I realized we were WAY too close.  Having heard stories of other bear-dinghy encounters and bluff charges, we started the motor and idled in reverse until well clear.  Back at Radiance we were pleasantly surprised to see Kahe’a sail into the harbor.  She’s the Hawaiian boat that we met in Seward and John met last summer in Cordova.

Another stunning sunny day as Dave and I set crab pots (in spite of discouraging crabbing reports) in hope of finding some Dungeness crab.  Danny and Daniel explored some rocky shoreline caves in the kayaks while Dana, John, Marcy, Piper and I took the larger of the clams over to a beautiful stream surrounded by white sandy beaches to clean them in fast flowing water.   That eve, Tor, his parents and girlfriend from Kahe’a joined the crew of Radiance aboard the rafted Mirage and Tlingit for cocktails and fresh grilled king salmon, halibut and small butter clams.  We topped the evening off by watching a bear clamming on the beach in the setting sun and Tor and I took some more bear photos from the dinghy.

Radiance brings home the Silver in

First White Sails Race of Season

The first in a series of WHSYC sponsored white sails races were held Saturday June 3^rd in Seward under bright sunny skies and perfect 15-20 knots of breeze out of the south.  Radiance was crewed by Scott as helmsman, Grant, Jeff and Peter as cockpit trimmers and Annette,  Joy and Elanor as glamorous rail-meat and Trish as chief photographer.

Being the fastest rated boat on the course, our handicap put us last in the staggered start and also made us the committee boat.  Annette did a fine job with Grant keeping track of times to start and all boats got off the line with only a few late. 

Radiance and her crew showed their stuff as we passed all the boats and were about to round the mark when our genoa blew out on a tack.  We ended up tacking the final yards to the mark under mainsail alone and Williwaw screamed by.  After rounding the mark, the crew handled the sail change and got the blade up just after being passed by Bob on Afirmance.  But it did not take long to gain another position and Radiance squeaked out a well-earned second place behind Williwaw.  The second race began about 30 minutes later and after everyone had a chance to celebrate with a beer.  Some of the boats got better starts on the second race and Radiance ended up starting about 18 seconds late, but not bad.  We were pointing well with the blade, but never having flown the sail in race mode, we were struggling with lead car positions.  A couple tacks from the mark we were on a converging course with Williwaw on starboard tack.  Meet mild Linda, yelled across the water “Starboard!” and realizing we were not going to cross in front, we ducked behind and shot out the other side, though lost a lot of boat speed in the process.  But we got a great photo. 

We finally got our jib lead car right just about the time we rounded the windward mark.  Bob on Afirmance was close, but we easily slid under him and ended the second race with a good solid second place.  3-cheers for the crew of Radiance….a great crew and a great time!

Memorial Day 2006

The first cruise of the year was a 3-day Memorial Day weekend and we were blessed with sunshine and unseasonably warm temperatures.  After helping fellow sailor Dave with his haul out in the morning, the crew of Radiance set sail about lunchtime.  The warm north winds were blowing about 18 knots and made for a nice downwind leg out to Fox Island where we decided on Porcupine Cove, 2-bights south of Bulldog for our destination.  This south facing cove has a beautiful beach with a large lake behind it and is a natural rookery for harbor seals and their newborn pups.  It is often inaccessible due to the large swell from the Gulf of Alaska, but was sunny and calm this time and provided a great anchorage for the night.  We met up with the Baker’s from Tlingit for a nice bonfire complete with wine and s’mores and watched the many harbor seals with pups and sea lions put on a show along the beach.  Piper entertained us with a cute puppet show for us with her two hand puppets.  We played rock-Janga and Marcy created Zen-magic with her perfectly smooth and round rock pile symmetry.

The next morning Piper and I took a spin in the Avon and watched the many seals and their pups along the rocks in the morning sun.  Paddling in his kayak, John pointed out a mountain goat and calf high on the steep rocky ledge above.   

We enjoyed the quiet of the morning before heading back for a pancake feed aboard the boat then pulled the hook and headed over to catch the high tide for a dinghy exploration trip into Bear GlacierAfter piling all 5 of us into the Avon, plus the 80 lb dog, we could barely make headway upstream and after crunching a few rocks with the prop, we lightened the load and Jessica and I got the boat up on step so we could traverse the rapids while the others walked the flat open beach. 

Once in the calm waters above, we loaded all back aboard and headed into the ice field.  As we made our way through the bergs and got closer to the glacier, the temperature continued to drop.  We felt like Antarctic explorers as we searched for leads through the ice and closer to the glacier.

The chill was beginning to get everyone and so we headed back to the main stream and to Radiance.  Dana and Danny enjoyed laying on the hot black sand for a spell before we transported everyone back to Radiance.  With Bulldog cove in sight, we motored over to join Tlingit, Forever, Inua and new friends Mike and Alissa who’d sailed over from Kodiak aboard Pelagic, a beautiful Pacific Seacraft 37.  After cocktails and dog beach duty, we all congregated for a massive beach party and bonfire to celebrate several of the teenage crew’s birthdays with toasting of beers and marshmallows.   

Monday morning came quickly and with it a definitive change in temperature.  Though still sunny, the breeze was filling in from the south and was much cooler.   We enjoyed a peaceful breakfast and I puttered with a few deck projects before we hoisted anchor and sailed for Seward.  The breeze built and made for a perfect sail home to top off a perfect weekend.  

Yea, summer is here!

It may not look like Spring, but....................

The harbor has already come to life

Spring is in the air and I've already started on the list of projects which include a sail locker remodel, some engine work and then we'll start de-winterizing!  With other music committments and going to Juneau, I've got a late start on some of this but am eager to get caught up.  All very exciting except the timeframe is already looking amazingly short and this will be a BIG year because I've got to pull the boat, replace some seacocks, thru-hulls, rudder bearings, zincs and then also do bottom paint - then the regular list of de-winterizing before we can go sailing.  Whew!  Better got to work!

Winter Cometh

By Mark Ward

It’s grey today.  The clouds fill the sky and touch the snowy ground.  They are low overhead; thick and dark on the horizon.  Frozen like a black-and-white photograph, the  absence of color is instead more a variation of greys.  I can see my breath, but the grey dulls my depth perception, turning the world into a two-dimensional experience.  It is winter.

Already, vivid green leaves, iridescent flowers, the infinite blues of water and even the oranges and yellows of fall seem a distant dream.  It’s as if the world has always been this way; like Narnia under the spell of the white witch.  It’s mid-November and spring seems years away.  I have reluctantly accepted the unstoppable onslaught of winter, mowed the grass, drained the hoses, readied the snow blower, and traded the lawn rakes and planters for snow shovels and ice-melt.  The family sailboat has been stripped down with sails unbent, canvas folded, tanks drained, systems winterized and extra mooring lines added for the inevitable violence of winter storms.  Like an embalmed corpse, she lies lifeless alone in her berth. 

Spaced neatly to keep us occupied through the dark months, we are temporarily occupied by the diversion of the holidays.  January comes.  Save for the celebration of a new year, it’s a dark and hollow month.  As our planet tips, the light and warmth of the sun will creep back into our lives. 

The longer days will bring thoughts of spring….and sailing.  Archived memories of unfinished boat projects will emerge.  We will renew our endeavors to ready our boats for opening day.  We will carefully plan our summer weekends and extended summer cruise.  Then, just as it was leached away, color and hope will seep back into our lives.  Without warning, we will begin to feel the sense of urgency and excitement that spring bestows.  I’ll be driven to organize, itemize, prioritize and finish boat projects to make our boat ready for sea and for the adventures of summer.  I’ll have the sails serviced and spend my lunch hours collecting parts and pieces from the local chandlery so my weekend boat projects will not be delayed.  There will be excitement on the docks.  Radiance will be ready to come out of hibernation.  As her caretaker, I’ll reassemble her, bend on sails and tune her rig, breathing life back into her.  Then there will be that first sail of the season and a million dollar smile will beam from my face and in my heart. 

When mid-summer comes, I’ll have Radiance in top shape for our summer vacation cruise.  We’ll explore some new coastline and I’ll relish with my kids, the exquisite adventure of cruising.  Until then, I’ll hunker down by the fire and lose myself in glossy sailing magazines...and try to survive the holidays, awaiting that first sign of spring.