Dear friends and family,
I am sitting in the boat at Thomas Bay anchorage, the only boat. Just returned from rowing in the sliding seat dinghy, both for exercise and exploring. I am taking the day off from sailing today as it is pretty windy the direction i am going and I needed to recover from very little sleep the night before.
Leaving Wrangell with a good forecast, i headed west. Just out of town I set the genoa (big front sail for those non sailors), and was having a wonderful sail in the predicted winds of just over ten knots, then averaged fourteen as it got squeezed between islands. Perfect and quiet sail. As i approached my destination turn out of the Sumner Straits the wind started to pick up and then pick up some more. Once it got to over twenty four knots, I turned on the weather radio to hear that the storm to the south decided to continue north and the forecast was for 25 knots now, gusting to 35 knots.
Luckily i was soon turning off this main channel and into the protected Wrangell Narrows, where five miles in, I anchored for the night. Even in this protected spot, the wind stayed steady at fifteen knots and gusted to twenty. A lot less than outside, but even though I set the anchor well and left lots of scope out (chain distance), the noise in the rigging was loud. Think of a jet revving the engine at the end of a runway about to take off. And it was my first night out this year in this craft, so I was only one day in on my three day “getting used to things” period. And hanging everything from that metal hook I dropped to the bottom.
So, with electronic anchor alarm set, I laid down to sleep, but kept getting up to check things and make sure we stayed put. Morning arrived too quickly and I drove north for the next seven hours, the first two and a half in the narrow channel (Wrangell Narrows) where you have to make sure you are on the correct side of 63 channel markers. It is not hard, but you do want to pay attention.
So, sleepy Charley relaxes today in the beauty of being anchored in the middle of several receded glaciers, surrounded by snowy peaks. Chores today include: checking the weather, feeding my sourdough starter and …
There must be something else, but that is the beauty of this life. Doesn’t need to be.
Earlier this spring I bought a truck camper to fit on my 2020 Tacoma pickup. It allows me to camp in comfort (for me) as I haul either my mountain bike or small sailboat (Snark) to starting points for trips. It’s kind of like the Alaska boat, but on wheels. I plan to explore closer to home, in BC and Alberta and eastern Washington this coming fall.
Once again, I sent boat parts and a load of Costco food on the barge to Wrangell. Even with the barge costs, it is still quite a savings, so I loaded up on dry and canned goods for the summer.
Then the usual boat pre-season maintenance while enjoying the community of Wrangell. Each day a bike ride to the community center for working out and showering and some socializing. As I stay more years there I get to know more people and enjoyed spending time with them. This is my sixth season sailing in Southeast Alaska, and wow, how time does fly.
A special treat this year to have dear friends from Port Townsend show up on their boat in Wrangell. We all went out to dinner together and they must of thought that I spend a lot of time alone on Hongvi, as I seemed like a gusher of words, as if they were bottled up. I guess they were.
I spent yesterday afternoon and today reading a book about the hermit in Maine who spent 27 years alone in the woods, from age 20 to age 47, and recently was arrested. (He survived by stealing food from unoccupied cabins for all those years). Sometimes when I am alone on the boat, like now, I feel a bit like a hermit. If I started his routine now, I would be 99 when I quit. I like people AND aloneness so I guess this wouldn’t work for me. Plus I could not steal.
In the winter, when I am not in Alaska, I sometimes forget how much I like this land of wild animals and high mountains, all still snow covered. The rain can be bothersome, but isn’t that what raingear is for? And of course, the pilothouse to stay warm and dry while sailing. And the forecasts are more like suggestions than forecasts. I have five different sources of forecast aboard, and often they are quite different. In a way, that is part of the charm, that you have to be ready for anything with a backup plan to hide if necessary. When in heavier than forecasted weather I won’t say it is fun, but having the boat (and skipper) ready for anything is the challenge. If I wanted predictability I would just stay tuned to economists predictions on the world economy right now. (Joke).
Depending on who predicts, maybe skipping the next 27 years would be a good idea. I have enough food to give it a good start.
Sending love,
Charley
