Alaska Expedition 2003

14thhead

August 14 - 15

8/14 In the morning we make our way to 6-Fathom Pinnacle (not what it is called, just how it is marked on the nautical charts) north of Sail Island. This is an interesting location geographically due to its proximity to Sail Island, its relative shallow depth of 35 feet, and the tidal currents in the area. On the way out, Phil awakes and stumbles to the dining room complaining about how his hair hurts...it must have been a very late night of port consumption.

The current appears a tad fast, running from bow to stern, but no matter. We suit up for the exploratory dive. The first two in indicate the current is not that bad and head off to the bow and follow the anchor line down. By the time we are ready to go in, the divers in the water are moving backwards with a wake at their mask line. They could not even pull themselves up the helper line to the bow. The rest of us abort the dive and wait it out. The report from those who made it said the pinnacle was very nice, but that the current was fierce around 30 feet, and impossible at 15 feet. Perhaps it just needs to be called on a better slack time.

We spent the afternoon at The Brothers Islands for a nice kelp forest pinnacle dive. Later in the day we hiked about gathering spruce tips for Captain Cook's spruce beer recipe. On the hike we found a Designated Bald Eagle nesting tree (as noted by an official Forest Service designation sign nailed to the tree). The floor of the forest was velvety thick, like walking on a soft bed of, well, a soft bed of mulch that has been collecting forever and fully covered in brightly colored green moss. The entire scene is very surreal with the large canopy of pine trees and the forest interior very open and visible.

8/15 Long quiet morning motoring over to Yasha Island for some Stellar Sealion games off the mother ship. In search of MFAs (miserable animals), we had been down for 15 minutes or so, just getting ready to go up and locate the boat (we are in 20 feet of very murky, smelly, MFA water) I see a pair of Stellars pass below me. I drop back down in time to be mobbed by 12 to 15 of these beasties. Two or three of them started mouthing our heads and arms (that annoying air pocket that forms under your hood is a good thing!), with the rest just hanging around checking us out. It was like being mobbed in a dark alley. Then all of a sudden they were gone. A moment later, they all came back, only a little more bold. Then, again, they were all gone. The third round was a little more frenzied. Mouthing on fins, gear, legs, arms, heads, blowing bubbles (do our regulator bubbles make us look threatening?), showing teeth, etc. After they took off as they had previously, I called the dive. I really did not need a chance to document their behavior on the fourth round. Moments after getting back on deck, the captain called the dive location short due to incoming weather, pulled anchor, and headed off to Baranof for hiking and hot-spring relaxation.

Baranof is a small fishing outpost of maybe 15 houses built on the side of the mountain. A large waterfall provides hydro-power to the homes, and hot water piped from the hot-springs provides floor heat. There is a general store where we purchased two bottles of molasses...and it was noted by the proprietor there are only two things you can do with that much molasses, and baking cookies was very low on that list. Spruce beer here we come!

We hiked up the wood plank walkway, taking in the lightly sulfur-tainted air, making our way to the hot-springs. The pools are of varying temperature, starting upwards of 120 degrees, down to 100-ish, overlooking the massive waterfall. There is a separate pool with water entering directly from the waterfall...this is the cold dip. You slowly lower yourself, in a meditative fashion, relax for a moment, then slip back out. As the cold water closes up your pores from the ensulfurated spring, an odd sensation is felt - that of sulfur being expelled from your skin, being locked into your skin, or just the dirt and grime being washed out of your pores.

Later in the evening, Phil calls for a night dive (Phil volunteering for a night dive? Phil never does night dives!). The dive is planned for a small pinnacle at the mouth of the bay. Turns out this is a hunting expedition...looking for large crustaceans for dinner. Coming back empty-handed, none are to be had until they run into Guido and Jimmy selling crabs out of their car trunk in Sitka. The iceberg contest is coming to a close, with two people on either side of what will likely be the winning time to melt - 52 to 60 hours. The two decide to split the winnings after much consternation from the voter of 52 hours. It all ends well, nobody is hurt. The ice passes back into the environment around hour 54. Tonight we have a quiet midnight run through Peril Straits on our way to Sitka.

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