Leg 1, Tom Hall, Nap Hosang, Todd Olsen, Phil Rasori
From and to Ketchikan via a circumnavigation of Revillagigedo Island
and Misty Fjords National Monument
May 18-28, 2004

Tuesday, May 18 (arrival in Ketchikan; no miles). Tom worked all day to get Onward into good shape for the arrival of his crew. They were scheduled for 8:22 PM but arrived a half hour later. We loaded up the rental car, crossed Tongass Narrows via the airport ferry, and on to Onward. We had a good chat, supper and into the sack at 11:30.

Wednesday, May 19 (Ketchikan to Alava Bay; 3.7 hours, 23.5 miles). A leisurely rising and then systematic preparations. The weather was beautiful sunshine, blue skies and warmer than California that day. We first went to downtown Ketchikan so that Nap could send student grades back to Berkeley via the internet café. The rest of us checked out Creek Street and several of the cruise ships on the wharf. Next, to Murray Pacific (their motto – “The name fish fear most”) to get fishing licenses, instructions on the best methods and fishing locations, and stock up on lures and frozen herring. Then to Carr’s supermarket and over $400 of groceries, impressive at checkout but inexpensive when you figure we were shopping for four men for over 100 meals. The last stop was at the liquor store for some Yellow Tail Australian wine, beer, gin and other libations. Back to the boat and the task of finding space for all the food in the lockers. Tom settled up with the Harbormaster and returned the car and then off into Tongass Narrows, past the cruise ships, and out into the straits. We had good weather and lots of sun for the start of our expedition. The crew elected to bypass the small cove by Carroll Point (10 miles from Ketchikan) and instead press on to the entrance to the Behm Canal. Our planned anchorage, Alava Bay, was once the site of major fishing activities and spawning streams, now abandoned. We were pleased to find a single mooring buoy ready for our use located just in front of a currently unoccupied USFS cabin. Before dinner Nap, Todd and Phil caught 8 sandabs right off the stern and with Nap in the galley, we had the first of many fine meals.

Thursday, May 20 (Alava Bay to Punchbowl Cove, Rudyerd Bay; 4.3 hours, 27.8 miles). Another perfect morning – how long can it last? Off the mooring at 9 AM for a smooth cruise north, past the 237' high volcanic plug, New Eddystone Rock, into Rudyerd Bay and Punchbowl Cove. Poor Todd and Nap lamented that we were now in territory that was off limits to fishing for salmon. With no other boats around we took the lone USFS mooring buoy, launched the flotilla (dinghy and two kayaks), and landed at the Punchbowl Creek outlet for a reconnaissance climb up the trail. Though “good” by Alaska standards, the trail was quite rough and very steep. After 600' of ascent we came to the falls, at least 80' in height, and stopped for a breather and reflection on the beauty of the creek and forest. Back down the trail and out to the boat for a chef Nap dinner of steak, potatoes, corn and tossed salad. We spotted a young grizzly bear checking out the beach which induced an extra measure of caution when the three fishermen headed to shore to try their early evening luck. Onshore they met an unusually active marmot that beat a hasty retreat. After an hour of fly fishing at the mouth of the stream curtailed by a rising tide and darkness, the fishermen returned with two fine rainbow trout, 17" and 13", which were saved for breakfast the following morning.

Friday, May 21 (Punchbowl Cove; at the mooring). A spectacular morning, Nap’s usual weather grumblings notwithstanding! Our tourist bear was right on schedule, at the beach where he had been the night before. Lean, hungry, and apparently not very successful finding his morning grub(s). A leisurely breakfast on rainbow trout, à la Nap, and then via dinghy and one kayak (just in case the dingy disappeared) to shore, ready for the climb. We climbed 600+ feet past Punchbowl Creek falls to the head of a large lake with several islands in it. Surrounded by snowcapped mountains, waterfalls from the snow melt (no rain for the past several weeks), forests, stained rocks from the far greater number of waterfalls during the winter rainy season, it was quite the location! A quarter mile along the lake we came to the end of the trail and a lean-to, complete with privy, canoe, skiff and a log book. Nap duly signed for all of us, noting that as a former member of the Jamaican bobsled team he was glad to be up in the north country, ready to get back in practice for the next Olympics. Two of three skiff oars were broken so we launched the canoe and while Tom guarded the packs, the others took to the water. After checking out beyond the bend and into a lagoon the three-some returned, Nap and Phil headed back to the lake mouth to fish, and Todd and Tom went paddling. An hour later the latter two joined the fishermen and once again the fishing master, Phil, had transmitted too much knowledge to his pupil. While Phil wrestled with the 4-5" trout, Nap hauled in a 17.6" rainbow trout and as consolation prize, Phil squeaked just a tad above the minimum allowable length (11") with a fine specimen that measured, when stretched, to a genuine 11.5". Back down the mountain and relief to find our boats still there, despite a now strong 15-20 knot onshore wind. With minor drama we pulled the dingy ashore and then in two trips (we might have been soaked if all four of us, along with packs and poles, had made a single trip upwind and against the waves) we returned to Onward. We left the kayak there to be retrieved in calmer waters. A short time later Nap spied in the distance another boat and with his Jamaican genetic makeup, immediately identified it as the police. The rest of us, with many valid reasons for doubting his veracity, challenged that “call,” but Nap bet us $5 that he was right. And indeed he was! A large, rigid inflatable with two monster outboards and two men pulled alongside, with “Alaska State Troopers” written on the side of it. One man was dressed in official-looking black, with lots of hardware on his waist and an inflatable life jacket (and perhaps bullet-proof vest), while the other was casually garbed with pants and a T-shirt. They asked to see our fishing licenses and inquired about our knowledge of fishing size limits. Licenses were duly presented, Tom nervously proclaimed his innocence of fish-killing, and while one trooper engaged us in chit chat the other disappeared into the small cabin, presumably to check our names via radio with their home base dataset. Fortunately we had not yet made it into the record books of malefactors. Tom brought out his camera to record this visit and the well attired officer immediately put on his official cap to put himself in accord with the trooper dress code. With a cheery goodbye they were on their way. The balance of the evening was filled with fine talk, large pork chops and veggies à la Nap, music and a slowly dying wind.

Saturday, May 22 (Roundtrip from Punchbowl Cove to the end of the northern arm of Rudyerd Bay and back; 3.5 hours, 18 miles). Another gorgeous day in Punchbowl Cove, though Nap, per usual, managed to find to a single wisp of a cloud and hence complained loudly. It was calm in the early AM, with the winds then rising to a gentle 10 kt breeze from the north. The crab pot had zip in it, with no evidence of small crabs having had a nibble on the fish heads. Phil and Todd relocated the pot nearer the creek but with no eel grass evident, chances are slim. Phil brought the second kayak back from the trail head where we had left it the previous PM. The winds had been 15-20 knots with gusts to 30 and we didn’t want to tow it back to Onward. We had a fine breakfast on poached and fried trout from the previous day’s lake haul and then loaded the three-boat flotilla ready for the cruise up the northern branch of Rudyerd Arm. We cruised 9 miles to the end of the Arm, with five float planes checking us out en route as they made their flightseeing circuit. Anchoring is only possible at the end of the Arm due to very deep waters and a steep-to slope that goes from >150' deep to 20' and less in just a short distance. The scenery was five-star: a narrow, winding channel, >3000' mountains on each side, and near vertical cliffs interspersed with deep crevices, valleys and long avalanche slopes. Phil spotted a canvasback duck, which was added to our trip bird list. Lunch on tuna fish sandwiches, à la Todd, relaxing in the sun and soft breezes. We launched the dinghy and the three fishermen went off for 2.5 hours, wending their way several miles up a small river with Todd at the helm and Phil encouraging the trio on into uncharted waters. They went as far up as the rapids and got out to fish. No luck on the flies or with Mepps, so we retreated to float fishing on the way back. Phil has a mean fly arm...he put that fly into every nook and cranny with the able dexterity of our helmsman Todd, but to no avail...the fish were elusive. The fishermen were unsuccessful but the trip was outstanding. Tom stayed aboard Onward, reading and relaxing in a spectacular setting. With the dinghy on board we upped anchor at 5 PM, retraced our route past waterfalls, cliffs and snowfields bathed in soft afternoon light, back to Punchbowl Cove. We picked up our crab pot from the bow of Onward and were pleased to find 6 male “keepers” with only one female and an undersized male. Nap had a sanddab dinner ready for us right after hooking up with the mooring and post-dinner the crabs met their fate in boiling water and the frig. Another quiet night.

Sunday, May 23 (Punchbowl Cove to Fitzgibbon Bay; 7.3 hours, 46.1 miles). Up at 6:15 and off the mooring at 6:45 for the long trip north. Yet another fine day with sun, a few high clouds and a light breeze from the south, though rain is forecast for Monday. We motored about three hours to the head of Walker Cove, a five-mile fjord indentation on the east side of the Behm Canal. As with Rudyerd Arm, the scenery was spectacular; sheer walls, waterfalls, >3000' mountains on both sides, and up to 800' deep until the end. We put Onward in neutral, digitized the scene, and then back out to Behm Canal for another 25 miles up to where it turns west. Light following breezes, dolphins in our bow wave, occasional waterfowl, hot dogs and buns for lunch and by 3 PM we were anchored at the end of Fitzgibbon Bay. A brown bear was browsing on the flats until he heard us approach and then ran off at a canter. The flotilla was launched, the crab pot set in a shallow (13') part of the cove, and the stream checked out, but it was dry. We spent a leisurely afternoon with the last day of forecast sun – fishing, kayaking around the cove, harlequin ducks, river otter, eagles and gulls. A very quiet night and a very lively discussion of matters profound and trivial.

Monday, May 24 (Fitzgibbon Cove to Yes Bay; 3.5 hours, 24.3 miles). At last, high clouds and a brief smattering of rain; the long-range forecast is coming true. The crab pot had 8 large specimens, 6 male keepers. With two hauls so far the pot has brought in the equivalent of $150 worth of Dungeness crabs. We spotted a black bear so Todd and Phil took to the kayaks and cautiously proceeded along the shore to minimize their visibility; they got quite close but could only see the bear’s back due to the tall grass and their low angle of view. Back on the boat, Todd prepared great pancakes, with bananas, raisins, both, and neither, topped with genuine maple syrup. Up anchor at 10:30 and out to Behm Canal. Nap plotted our course on the laptop under Todd’s guidance which took us on a 25-mile cruise around the north end of Revillagigedo Island, through Behm Narrows, to Yes Bay. We threaded our way between Yes Bay Lodge and a small peninsula, around the peninsula to a small inner basin for a quiet and totally protected anchorage. By now we had steady but light rain so into our raingear ready for the dinghy ride to the Lodge. A short 10-minute ride took us to the Lodge dock where we joined four day trip fishing boats, a tug, barge, and a classic wooden yacht under repairs. We were informed that the Lodge was not yet open for business, the first guests to be a wedding party coming next Thursday. A trail goes two miles from the lodge, alongside a substantial fast-flowing stream up to MacDonald Lake. Parts of the trail were well maintained, with log halves forming walkways and bridges over the gullies but parts were quite rough. Fifteen minutes up the trail we found a fine pool area that should hold some fish – ready for extraction tomorrow morning. Back to the Lodge we met Joy and then her brother, Bill Hack, whose parents had purchased the Lodge in 1977. Bill lives there year round and all hands were now working overtime to get the Lodge ready for Thursday’s wedding. They were a great source of information about good fishing spots (lots of them), bear observation (a new observatory platform was just finished) and during spawning season, you can practically walk across the stream outlet on the backs of salmon, and bears, and other attractions. Back to Onward we were treated to Phil’s gin and tonic formula, munchies and a chance to escape the by now, substantial rain. Phil made a crab ciopino with spaghetti, and as a special concession to Tom’s aversion to crab, Nap prepared chicken breasts. With a two-menu offering this is getting to be quite a high-end cruise. After cleanup Nap and Phil took to the dinghy for a try at trolling for salmon in the late dusk; they returned at 11 PM in the pitchblack night, without a bite. Without a lighted lure the fish couldn’t see to bite!

Tuesday, May 25 (Yes Bay; at anchor). Cloudy skies, essentially no wind, and intermittent rain. The barometer has dropped from its previous highs in the mid-1020s to 1015 and still falling so we are in for some rainy weather. We stayed all day in Yes Bay. Lots of pre-breakfast talk about war, past and present national crises, leadership and who should decide about when and how to fight wars. This was prompted by the recent documentary movie, “Fog of War,” in which Robert McNamara reflected on his years in the DOD, from the Cuban Missile Crisis to Vietnam. Enough heavy topics! Phil left to hike up the creek to the middle lake and try his luck with trout fishing. Todd and Nap took the dinghy for a long trolling excursion outside the entrance of Yes Bay, and Tom stayed boat-bound, exercising the genset to replenish the depleted batteries, reading, working on the two 2005 conferences that will be one of his responsibilities on his return, writing in the log and listening to Baroque music CDs. The fishing was great. We got early hits just outside Yes Bay’s entrance and Todd landed his first King Salmon of the season. We trolled around square island with no luck. Todd then steered us back to the north side of the channel and we again got good bites and we landed the second King of the day. Todd then brought us back, planing the dinghy on flat waters up Yes Bay, to our pre-arranged pick up for Phil at the Yes Bay Lodge. The fishermen returned at 6 PM after a long, cold and intermittently rainy day with a total fish count of: Nap and Todd (two salmon, and red rockfish; Phil (five rainbows, all released). After taking pictures of Todd’s fish, he proceeded to clean them. Phil after a change of clothes made us G&Ts, while Tom updated the log.

Wednesday, May 26 (Yes Bay to Naha Bay; 4.8 hours, 27.0 miles). A peaceful night, occasional light rain, clouds and a sharply falling barometer, over several days dropping from 1022 mb to 1003 mb. No luck with the crab pot, though the absence of our bait suggested that small crabs had entered and feasted. After a scrambled eggs, bacon and peppers breakfast we raised the dinghy, hoisted anchor and headed out to the eastern arm of Behm Canal. By popular request of the fishing contingent Tom turned off the main engine, started the small wing (or “get-home”) engine, and managed to keep the speed down to about 2 knots. With such a slow speed, an off center wing engine propeller and a quartering headwind steering was not an exact art. We wandered about the north end of the Behm Canal for 80 minutes but despite trolling three lines, not a single bite. The main engine was restarted and soon we were on Phil’s inaugural Nobeltec laptop course. The wind picked up and we had 2' waves but the southerly trip went well, enhanced by Nap’s hamburgers, and soon we passed the hamlet of Loring and entered Naha Bay. Todd did an able job docking at the small government wharf at the head of the bay, thus providing us easy access to the trail. We launched the flotilla and while Nap and Todd explored by dinghy and kayak, Phil and Tom walked about 45 minutes up a well maintained and beautiful trail to the brackish lagoon at the head of the bay. Much of the trail is boardwalk, a heroic job considering the amount of wood that had to be brought up. We all rejoined on Onward and soon feasted on a fine rice, pork chop and black bean sauce dinner à la Nap. After dinner we made our first regrettable decision. All but Tom decided to go by dinghy to see if high tide would allow passage to the lake. It wasn’t reliably possible but they did see some signs of fish activity so they returned to the boat, got the fishing gear and headed out again. In a short time they returned, through they were through with explorations for the evening. Nap had slipped on a wet log, fell and suffered a 1+ inch jagged cut above his left eye. With a surgeon, internist and public health physician in attendance, he didn’t lack for medical attention. Just the previous evening Tom had brought out his full medical kit for review by the experts and now Todd had a chance, courtesy of Nap’s fall, to give Tom a demonstration of how Dermabond works, a “superglue” for wound closure that makes stitches unnecessary. An impressive performance! Nap used an ice cube compress and conversations shifted away from the state of the world to the vicissitudes of trauma care.

Thursday, May 27 (Naha Bay to Knudson Cove; 1.7 hours, 10.5 miles). A quiet night tied to the float, occasional light rain, and a cautiously rising barometer (1003 to 1004 mb). The day dawned partly cloudy, Nap’s wound was better though with one eye partially closed he is beginning to look like a veteran pirate. Three keeper crabs in the pot, a breakfast of pancakes à la Todd, and then the fishermen were off again, this time by land, to try their luck at the lake mouth. After a short try, with only several wee ones, they were back on Onward ready for better waters. At 10:15 we left for the short trip to Knudson Cove, Todd at the helm. We arrived at noon, took a “30' only” slip that would have accommodated at least 50', checked with the marina and learned that we were at the government dock. We had tried to reach the harbormaster by radio to no avail and were equally unsuccessful by telephone though the office person said that if we were later found to be in the wrong location that we could move. After a hamburger / hot dog / crab lunch the four of us embarked in a rented 14' Lund fishing boat for three hours of slow motion trolling. The results: several strong but unproductive bites, several times of snagging the bottom and one smallish rockfish. Phil and Tom returned to Onward at 5 PM while Todd and Nap went out for another two hours; result, not even a strike. With Todd at the helm he and Nap trolled the point and languished (tough life, isn’t it?) in the beautiful backdrop scenery of the Behm Canal and snowcapped mountains beyond. Back to our seaborne lair for gin and tonics followed by a fine pasta, sauce and rockfish dinner. After dinner the three fishermen went over to the main dock where they were weighing and cleaning a 36.6# King salmon caught in a guided outing; a study in frustration for our own fishing addicts!

Friday, May 28 (Knudson Cove to Ketchikan; 1.8 hours, 9.6 miles). The three fishermen got off to an early start, trolling in a rented skiff in front of Knudsen Cove. They had many rockfish bites and landed a few. No luck with the salmon, even though others around us seemed to be landing sizeable Kings. Phil insisted on bottom fishing for Alaskan Snapper. He proved his superior skills as he landed (as promised) a snapper that would forever make us prefer snapper over salmon, for dinner. At 1 PM we eased out of the cove and headed back to Ketchikan, past Onward’s winter resting place at Refuge Cove, past the airport, past the drydocked Alaska ferry, LeConte, which had run onto a reef in Peril Strait and now had 30' gashes down both sides of its hull, and finally to the Bar Harbor South mooring basin. Much of the remaining time was spent cleaning up the boat, making a detailed inventory of available food and supplies, and packing. Rather than have a night out on the town Phil decided that we should have our last evening meal on board. To commemorate the occasion he prepared a gourmet salad followed by a fish first course and an excellent wine. Lamb chops were the entree and ice cream for desert. We all lamented the end of the trip, made all the more vivid by a review of Phil’s slide show of many excellent pictures.

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