| | 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 6th to June 8th, 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.
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