Port Chatham, AK, 27-AUG-2020 — This is the last time we will anchor on this trip. Everything is mixed: Melancholia at having this long adventure end, and impatience to move on.
The day before yesterday and the day before that stick in the mind as embodying so much of an Alaska cruiser’s life. We motored and motored around a point from one anchorage to another: four hours, some of it dodging rocks and kelp. Much with no wind and some with wind that would have required beating to windward.
For the first time since leaving last year, we spotted macrosystis pyrifera kelp. A very ropey, very strong kelp that has an preternatural attraction to Caro Babbo’s propeller. Twice we heard the sound of the prop change. Each time, we took the boat out of gear, came to a near stop and then switched back and forth between forward and reverse. The prop sound returned to normal, and we proceeded.
When I write it seems wrong to focus so tightly on the few feet of our boat. Kelp and removing kelp is happening on a back drop of rugged islands and islands that qualify solely as rocks protruding from the water. Beneath the water other would-be islands wait their turn for life above the water line, or perhaps I have it backwards. They have returned to the water after the last ice age, or earthquake.
Fishing boats are here. They see us on AIS; we see them. We share dock space with them and speak and ask advice. They want to know about our crossing.
It has been sunny for the last two weeks or so. It is unusual in our Alaska experience and, we learned, unusual for the area: glorious sun and clear air; visible peaks and long lines of sight. Sailing wind has been infrequent. Our friends Thomas and Anja have waited for wind and now wait for big winds to pass by.
When finally anchored in Big Fort Inlet, Jennifer needed to know the answer: was there kelp wrapped around the prop — the wheel in commerical boating terms.The GoPro attached to boat hook and hung over the side, we learned the terrible truth, lots and lots of macrosystis.
Generally, I can remove the kelp from the prop working from the dinghy with a kitchen knife taped to the boat hook. I work by feel and it will usually work. This time, Jennifer helps encase me in an O’Neil winter wetsuit. When she takes a picture of me she laughs and tells me I look like a tadpole.
The wide angle lens makes my head and hands look very large, and I can see that I am as thin as she tells me I have become.
Using the boat hook and knife, the kelp is removed in a few seconds. Seeing what I am doing is the key. Once under water the GoPro can not communicate with the cellphone viewer software. We’ll look into a cabled video camera for next year.
The engine starts easily but idles fast. Looking at the linkage I see that I did not completely understand how the Mason{?} cable connected to the throttle linkage. I should have known something was not right when the adjustment wasn’t identical to the adjustment for the replaced control. It is minor and off we go.
An hour before we arrive, Jennifer checks the bilge and finds it is full. It should be empty. I heard the pump run that morning. The leaking propeller seal leaks into the bilge.
I check the fuse, it has blown. A new fuse blows instantly. I decide it is a short. The handle for the manual bilge pump is in the cockpit and I pump the bilge empty from there. That pump moves a lot water: the level in bilge drops quickly.
We’ve been following a law enforcement boat on AIS as they move from inlet to inlet. As we enter our next anchorage, they are anchored in the entranceway.
Jennifer takes us to the open area in the anchorage where it turns out wind is howling. The wind is lighter everywhere else; it is a wind funnel. We turn tail and move to the entrance to an open area in a gooseneck hidden from the wind by the terrain and tall trees — yes, we’ve gotten far enough east to old enough islands that there are trees.
I start to debug the problem and quickly figure out it is not in the circuit leg connected to the manual switch, so it must be, I figure, in circuit for float switch in the bilge, which makes more sense. I cut the first wire tie, and start looking for places where a wire could short out against a ground.
Jennifer calls to me telling me that a small fast speed boat we’d seen entering the anchorage is coming towards us. It turns out it is the troopers from the enforcement boat. As they come closer, Jennifer says, ”When I saw that boat, I thought it was a drug drop.” I reply that that was exactly what I am thinking.
As the troopers get closer, a woman named Alicia from Washington state and a man named Eric, an Alaska native ask how we’re doing. I say some days are better. Our backup bilge pump has shorted, after the primary dying (I actually have it backwards, who really cares?)
They are full of genuine concern, and I know eager for something to break the routine.
We start talking about where we’ve come from and what we thought their boat was. They both laugh, then Alicia says that we would have been able to watch it all. I shout NO!. We were worried you’d think we were involved, which they find hilarious.
We talk a little more and Alicia asks if we were fishing. Her conversational tone has not changed. She outgoing, happy and interested. We both know she will ask to see our license next.
There is that wonderful confidence dealing with law enforcement of any kind when know you are in full compliance.
We don’t fish. They don’t seem surprised. Perhaps because there is no gear visible. Jennifer tells her story of how we get fresh fish: from commercial fishing boats and other boaters.
I enjoy these conversations. Jennifer and I both do. We’re interested in their job, what they do day-to-day and how they got into this line of work. They are interested in telling us what they do most days: check licenses and occasionally look at the catch or what hunters have taken.
Jennifer mentions that we felt bad our first season in Alaska, as we had no gifts to give those who gave us fish, but now travel with honey. It’s the end of trip,. Jennifer gets two jars. I apologize for not giving one to the captain of the boat.
When we asked if they would stay anchored overnight here, they tell us it is the captain’s decision. But probably. It depends on how protected it is. Eric tells Jennifer she may have picked a better spot.
After they drive off, I realize that the short must be in the common circuit near the pump. Jennifer and I empty the locker, but there is no short. It’s possible that something jammed into the open pump mechanism keeping it from turning. There is nothing there now.
I try to rotate the pump. It doesn’t move. I have nothing to lose. I put some muscle into rotating the pump by pushing with a screwdriver. It moves. I install a proper rated fuse. The pump works and has since.
I’ll replace the motor in Homer.
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