Lovie read my last post, and decided that I just didn’t project the full intensity of the night. Here, in her words, are the events, as well as some comments about the trip home to Sitka.
Bad, Ugly, and Terrifying!
The details that need filling in to the Excursion Inlet / Peril Straits Run.
I hate to sleep in my yucky, smelly fish-gurry coated clothes as it will ruin my sleeping bag and I’ll have to smell it for 2 months. So, I sleep in sweats, commonly made of cotton or as called in Alaskan Survival Schooling, “Death Cloth”.
The irritating bumping sound that woke us at 2 a.m. – I just snuggled deeper into my warm cocoon as the boat is chilly even with the oil stove going as you have to leave windows open for ventilation. My thought was “Aaahhh! Reubin’s taking care of it..” and next it’s “Get your life jacket on, the dock is breaking up!”
I looked out the door to water rolling and breaking over the boards and Reubin jumping from the heeled-over boat, running and pounding on Steve’s door. Got his boat started and cast off and ran back to ours.
I jumped into my ExtraTuffs to keep from slipping and started undoing the stern line. We’d tied up with 4 ropes because of the tidal current. We’d bought a new bow rope earlier which we thought was too long but it’s saved our necks a few times already. Reubin looped it under the cleat and back to the bow for me to hold. I’d grabbed an additional sweatshirt and my raincoat as it’s always pouring even in pitch dark. The far side of the dock broke loose as Steve barely cleared it and our boat. Out into the middle of the (River!) he headed, up to find an anchor spot as he’d been there before.
Our GPS didn’t come up right away, so I shivered with teeth chattering, hanging on to the end of the rope as the dock swung downstream with us still on it. Thank goodness the other side of the pilings held. Reubin had our engine running and looking at the depth sounder as we’d swept from 17 fathoms to 2 fathoms; our boat is 6 feet deep in the water – 1 fathom! Afraid we’d hit the bank he hollered into the wind, “OK, cut her loose!” We could barely see Steve’s light in the driving rain but he’d anchored by then and we aimed upstream to tie up – jazzed by adrenaline, which we have been several times in this occupation.
The Peril Straits trip home…….
We had to keep driving 13 hours, into the dark night to hit tides right for making Sergius Narrows at 6 a.m. We were following Kirk and Jason as it got dark, seeing the blinking lights of beacons from one rocky point to the next. Red beacon, green beacon, white beacon, 3-second flash, 1-second flash, as marked on charts so you know where you’re at.
Night is not fun as our old windows glare something fierce from the computer and radar screens. Someday we hope to get modern anti-glare windows and a high-pressure sodium floodlight so you can see logs before you hit them in the dark.
From 7:30 p.m. to 1 a.m. we drove on in the night to a safe anchorage just before the Narrows so we could make the tide right. As it was, it changed extra fast and we were 15 minutes late and having to buck it, but we plowed through and kept an ear out for the Ferry coming through so it didn’t run us over. Tonnage has the right of way…! Let them know you are there – sometimes they can’t see a little fishing boat 4o feet below their decks. We pulled out and let it (Fairweather) go by at Olga Strait. Seeing the glimpses of Sitka through the mountains was a relieving sight!
Yeah! Good for Lovie! Haha. I could HEAR her while I read this. :)
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