Incredible Tracy Arm
Wednesday, June 27th – Before raising anchor in Cannery Cove, The First Mate and Janet retrieve the trap. Nothing! Absolutely nothing. We pass a man going to his traps. Janet, in her sweet voice, sadly wishes him better luck than us. He nods and says a good many of the traps have been there for days giving the crabs plenty of time to smell the bait and move on into the trap. That must be the secret. We return to Avante, and, as we are securing The Dingbat, this same man motors up to the boat with two very nice crabs for us. How nice that Janet will engage all and sundry in talk! The man was so taken by our plight that he offered up two of his. We happily accept and thank him profusely. Two more Dungeness Crabs to add to The First Mate’s Fishing Tally. She knows full well that she did not actually trap these crabs, but if we had not been crabbing she rationalizes, we would not have gotten them. So the total now is 5 Dungeness Crabs.
As we head north in Stephens Passage, the wind is light and coming from behind us. This is consistent with the forecast which calls for very light winds all day. Looks like another boring day of motoring.
Our spinnaker had gotten quite wet from all the rain, and The Captain decides, with the winds so light, this would be a good time to dry it out. We go through the exercise of raising the spinnaker, and “exercise” it is with sheets, halyards and tack lines going all different but specific directions. The First Mate does not think of herself as 3-dimensionally challenged, but maybe she is. There will never be a time when she understands how to rig this sail, but, fortunately, it is no mystery to The Captain.
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That does not mean that it always works. We have not used this sail in a while, and somehow something has become tangled inside the sock that covers the sail. A line binds and prevents the sock from moving up and allowing the sail to unfurl. The First Mate rushes forward to help with the struggle. Together, they work out the bind, and the sail unfurls. Finally, flying as it should, it is impressive as it gently pulls us down the passage.
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We find that we are able to turn off the engine and sail smoothly on, gliding along beautifully and peacefully in the light breeze.
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Around lunchtime, we hear a call on the radio for “Sailboat in Stephens Passage with a big yellow sail.” The Captain answers and learns that the caller is a very large cruise ship that is miles ahead of us and heading in our direction. Without binoculars, we can barely see this behemoth on the horizon. The cruise ship wants us to “Please state your intentions.” Avante is under sail, so we technically have the right of way, but both of us are in a passage that is well over 5 miles wide and provides ample room to maneuver. The Captain responds that we are continuing north, but that we will stay well within the eastern half of this wide passage. The cruise ship answers. “Thank you sir. We will pass port to port.” Wow! We feel like a big ship now.
After several hours of nice gentle sailing we are approaching the entrance to Tracy Arm, and it is time to take down the spinnaker. Without warning, the wind picks up fiendishly from a nice gentle 5 – 8 knots to a blustery 15 – 20 knots, and Avante begins flying along. We now have a challenge. Normally, we could use our mainsail to block the wind while we douse the spinnaker behind it, but we never raised the mainsail. The Captain tries to lower the sock, but our yellow spinnaker is a big sail. With this increased amount of wind filling the sail so forcefully, The Captain can only get the sock halfway down. The First Mate goes forward to help, but too much sail is still flying. Having no way to block the wind, we are fighting both wind and sail. The Captain has an idea. He decides that one way to get this sail down is to knock the wind out of it. It could damage the sail, but we will have to take that risk. He tells Tom to take the helm and to turn the boat 180 degrees, heading right back into the wind, on his command. Go! As we turn sideways to the wind, the boat begins heeling way over with the force of the sail. Janet scrambles for higher ground with The First Mate not far behind, giving herself a few good mental kicks for not anticipating the action of the boat. The turn works. The spinnaker is pressed against the mast and deflating. The First Mate scrambles forward to help The Captain pull down the sock. Then, Janet is out there pulling in lines. Tom is at the helm. We are all working together. What a team! Go Team! We get the sail down and breathe a collective sigh of relief. All this action just confirms why The First Mate does not like that sail.
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Anchored quietly now in a cove just by the entrance to Tracy Arm, the red and white marker to The First Mate’s crab trap can be seen dutifully floating not far from Avante. The skies are still blue, and we keep our fingers crossed for tomorrow.
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Trapped by us or not, tonight we feast on crab!
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Thursday, June 28th – We have all been eagerly awaiting this day for our trip up and down Tracy Arm. This fiord is a popular one, for there are two prominent glaciers in it: South Sawyer and North Sawyer. It is frequently visited by tour groups, but only small, maneuverable craft can navigate the waterway filled with bergie bits that have calved from the glaciers. These chunks of ice are slowly melting and floating their way out the fiord.
Magically, the day greets us with blue skies and sun. It is even somewhat warm. Looking out into the bay, we are amazed at the sight of 2 large icebergs that have floated down from the glacier. What an opportunity to have a photoshoot of Avante on this “Chamber of Commerce” picture-perfect day! Tom and The First Mate are sent out in The Dingbat, she to take the photos, and he to make sure all goes well when maneuvering The Dingbat.
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Janet and The Captain remain on Avante. With our handheld radios, we communicate as we work to position Avante in line with the icebergs.
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It takes several passes to position Avante and The Dingbat at the right distance from the icebergs. Aware that more than ⅔ of an iceberg is usually submerged, The Captain is cautious. Even though Avante is moving very slowly, there is only time for one or two shots before she is no longer centered between the two bergs.
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The Perfect Shot! Perseverance pays off.
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Back on Avante with The Dingbat secured, we enter Tracy Arm dodging a few scattered remains of icebergs of various sizes. Bergie bits are what these chunks of ice are called, and motoring around them in a fiberglass sailboat, they deserve our respect.
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We continue through 21 miles of gorgeous scenery.
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Steep, chiseled cliffs rise above as we glide over unfathomable depths below us. We pass by waterfalls too numerous to count.
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Sunlight and water create pastel reflections. Every corner we turn holds another mesmerizing view.
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Five miles before the glaciers, we encounter a minefield of bergie bits
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We are all on alert as The Captain weaves Avante through this minefield. Fortunately, the ice is spaced far enough apart that The Captain can avoid hitting any straight on, but the risk is always there.
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At a very slow speed, with unrelenting concentration, The Captain maneuvers Avante through the ice.
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The First Mate goes below deck and is amazed at the sound of the bergie bits as they glance off the side of the boat. It is a constant staccato barrage of noise, and she hopes that Avante‘s beautiful navy blue paint is not being chipped.
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North Sawyer Glacier finally comes into view, but any possibility of getting real close is thwarted by a thickening ice pack 100 yards ahead of us. The wind has blown it into this inlet, and we dare not go much nearer.
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Continuing on in Tracy Arm around yet another corner, there, with clouds upwelling like a celestial version of the Alleluia Chorus, lies the blue tinged South Sawyer Glacier. Maybe you had to be there to feel it, but we all caught our breath in awe at the sight.
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A half hour later, The Captain declares victory. We are as near the glacier as is safe. In this dramatic spot, we enjoy a quick lunch while drifting with the ice.
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How nice it would have been if the path Avante made through the ice remained open for our return trip, but that did not happen, for the ice quickly closed in behind us as we passed. Turning around, The Captain begins to pick his way back through the ice. The trip back is just as much work as the trip in.
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At the end of a long, wonderful day, we thank and toast a very tired Captain.
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Tracy Arm – The First Mate does not have the words or the elegance to describe this place and this day. It was more of everything than any of us expected. The blue skies, the relative warmth, the iceberg fields, the steep chiseled walls, the views, the glaciers — so very much more.
Friday, June 29th – After the absolutely perfect day Mother Nature gave us yesterday, we know we cannot complain about the grey dawn and and overcast skies today. We do not have far to go to Juneau, the end of this leg of our trip, and when rain begins around noon, we decide to stop early and anchor in Taku Bay. We had hoped to fish, but the rain nixed that idea. A movie? No, it’s a bridge afternoon! Card games are not The Captain’s favorite activity. He maintains that he has no luck with cards, and after playing with him, we all are forced to agree. Still, he plays on until, mercifully, it is time for dinner.
Saturday, June 30th – Heading up Stephens Passage, we rounded a bend and found decent wind for sailing on Tom and Janet’s last day. We raised the sails in 16 – 18 knots and even put a reef in for passenger comfort. Thirty minutes later, the wind had died and the engine was back on. This was a typical Inside Passage sailing experience for us, sailing at over 9 knots with a reef in the sail, and then, while still in the same channel heading the same direction just 20 minutes later, having only light wind.
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Under a grey sky, we approach the dock in Auke Bay which is roughly 15 miles from Juneau. The bridge one needs to go under to enter Juneau harbor is too low for Avante‘s mast. So, Auke Bay is where the big boys go, as well as a good many of the local fishing fleet.
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This is where Janet and Tom will leave us tomorrow. How sorry we are to see them go! They have been such great traveling companions on this leg of the trip, and oh, the sights we have seen! None of us will forget our ventures into the land of glaciers and icebergs, and our day in Tracy Arm will always be there in memory.