J. Dillon, 11 years on a 27 footer, WOW!!!

[J. Dillon]

Map showing approaches to Glacial Bay National Park

Rain and fog seems to be the pattern here to greet the early riser or for that matter any riser at any hour. I recalled a sign back in Ketchikan boasting the rainiest location in AK at over 160 inches a year. I’m beginning to think Juneau is a close second. At 07:00 it was foggy with veils of mists girdling the mountains around us. But nevertheless the undaunted crew of the Tara Maru got underway by 08:00 to find a new haven for the night a bit closer to our goal of Glacier Bay. Nothing much happened that in any way might be thought of as memorable except that Bill saw a whale that sounded by the time anybody else had a chance to get a glimpse..



JD hoping for a little sunshine

We played a few recordings on the way and one that appealed to me was, Adagio in G, by Albinoni. The music seemed to suit the mood of the day: somber, dismal, bleak . Kind of a November in one’s soul that Melville spoke of. This was of course bolstered by the scenery that happened by. We arrived in Funter Bay at 15:36 and dropped the hook in 23 feet. Henry (the Count), turned out to be a kindred sprit as far as exploring is concerned. We ventured ashore to see what might be of interest and found little. An abandoned building that did show a trace of human habitation with a calender to the correct month, but no year to confirm its authenticity! A faded dirty curtain, kerosene lamp, chair, and an old issue of Newsweek completed one room, and a pile of rusted engine parts comprised the furnishings of the other room. Outside trees effectively hid a huge 30' diameter tank as though some one was conscious of how it might spoil the greenery. Another two story building seemingly occupied rested on pilings weathered with age. Rot was prevalent everywhere and rusted engine parts dominated the beach scene. If the weather was typical it’s no wonder this place was abandoned. Perhaps a little sunshine could displace the feeling of despair it now engendered. Rain became more intense and hastened our return to the Maru. The honeymooners were asleep as was Bill so we took a clue and soon joined them. Later Bill and George went ashore to see if clams could be found. Our shore party arrived back aboard with 6 clams, and two eagle feathers and told of a sign reading, "No bears allowed." Now bears cannot read but they do understand 16 penny nails driven into a piece of plywood with the business end up. Now that any animal can comprehend. I wondered if the bears figured a way to get around it. I guess it depended just how hungry the beast could get. With the full crew aboard and a break in the rain, we decided to have a happy hour. A favorite activity this time of the day - 18:00 hours.



The crew have a little tea and libations

About the time dinner was being prepared we observed a nearby vessel having some difficulty retrieving his anchor. Contacting him on the VHF radio we learned the name of the boat - "Vandal". It seemed he had hooked something with his anchor and was unable to clear it.We of the good ship Tara Maru went over armed with boat hooks and line and were able with much man power to pull up the anchor high enough to see that it had caught a 1" steel cable. Once we secured a line to the cable we were able to take the strain with the line and then lower the anchor freeing it. Then we slipped the line and all was free once again. We then learned that the crew of the Vandal had two Bostonians aboard as well as two locals. As a gesture of thanks they gave us some cigarettes to support Bill’s nicotine habit. Back aboard the Maru we all had a salmon dinner served in our cozy saloon

Fog and rain, fog and rain some more. The wet weather pattern persisted We were up at 08:00 and underway by 08:45 for one of the two Excursion Inlets. The wind was south at 15 kts. which did create a`bit of a chop in the Chatham Straight getting up to three feet at times . Once we entered Icy Straight we were in the lee of the land and the swells quieted down . The fog persisted as usual but with enough visibility to proceed at our usual 7 Kts. By 12:14 we sighted Porpoise Island and the Maru tied up to a local cannery at 13:06. We were able to empty our refuse and to fill up the water tanks. This essential diminished at an alarming rate when our master chef and chief steward prepared meals. The Count had his hand in its loss as he used running water during his dish washing chores. While there I talked to the workers and they told me it was gloomy and rainy like this most of the time, and when the sun shines it was an event to write about. He also related that he had to sometimes go to his brother’s home in California to preserve his sanity and just to get away from the gloominess so prevalent here. This alone could explain so many abandoned buildings we saw, enough to drive anyone to leave. I tried to make a few calls to my daughter in CA but to no avail; she never seems to be in her office. We left the cannery at 13:45 and proceeded up the East Inlet, turned around, went back down, and went up the West Inlet to anchor 35 feet in a pretty little side cove in the West Inlet. There was little wind but we let out 175 feet of rode to lie very quietly, hardly swinging at all. The crew played cards after a happy hour but the rain and mountain tops were veiled in perpetual mists, the clouds drifting in and out amongst the trees, veiling some, revealing others . Tomorrow we do have to be in Glacier Bay at Strawberry Island to check in with the Park Service. Our love birds, on a dare to each other, went in the water which at this place must be in the range of 52 or 53 degrees F. Remarkably they survived the cold and even stayed in the water for a few minutes. The rain has stopped for now and our chefs are preparing a barbecue salmon for dinner. Dining on the poop deck was a delight. A table was set up and the background was the wilderness of Alaska.. For a few moments the sun broke through proving it did exist. It, with a bit of a wind, cleared away the high cloud cover to reveal the snow flecked mountain tops with rivulets of water streaming through the lush evergreens. A gentle rain again started to fall breaking the reflections in the still waters of Excursion Inlet. We retreated to the warmth of the salon for another card game. In a quiet moment Hilly told me a little more of herself and her life here. Her husband was a fisherman, abusive as most of the men she met were. There weren’t any places to go to find better stock. I thought, no wonder she took up with George, who for her was a refreshing change. Kind of like being swept away for a few days by prince charming despite his obvious "warts". We all retired early as we were to make for Glacier Bay tomorrow at 05:30, to arrive on our appointed day reserved months ago. Anticipation was high for me. We were to see this fabled place where the true unspoiled Alaskan wilderness still existed. Forward thinkers preserved it from the inroads of man and his trash. Awaiting us were calving glaciers, ice bergs, snowy mountain peaks, soaring eagles not scavengers, no rust, or rot of man made things - just the natural way of the wild, and with a little luck, even a sustained period of sunshine.

Next Glacial Bay National Park AK

JD

[J. Dillon]

Well it's a wonder any body still peeks in here with a sex thread and a running discussion about M.Mike pin ups. But hang in there viewers I got yarns about sailing in the South pacific to Tonga, Shaula sinking and another stab at Bermuda still to come.

Oh yes some more visits to National parks and tenting at the Battle of the Lttle Big horn . Does "Medicine Tail Ford" ring a bell here?

JD

[beaky]

still hanging


jill

[J. Dillon]

The bay was as still as glass dotted by small bergs looking lonely and cold The crew all on deck to view the whole expanse of the park before us . We moved at 5 kts not in a hurry as we were here to soak in this fabulous place. In the distance I could see whales spouting like Melville described. Their hot breath gleaming in shafts of light that managed to thrust through the cloud cover. Others sounded, their graceful tails high in the air to sink hardly disturbing the surface. In the distance frigid shapes suggested mountains. I was at the wheel dogging the numerous small bergs freckling the grey water. As we proceeded it became noticeably colder like when opening a freezer, the air comes pouring out chilling your hands. We were doing the same on a grand scale surrounded by bergs, glaciers, snow, all the elements frosting the quiet chilled air. The Tora Maru was entering a vast cathedral, the clouds above supported by columns of snowy mountains giving one a sense of the divine. It evoked a reverence in our conversation. We spoke in hushed tones. Hilly cuddled closer to George. Bill shared the binoculars with Henry. I reached for my rain gear as the cold crept into my bones. Perhaps I was subconsciously programed to feel the chill, recalling, we did navigate Icy straight just that morning. Conning the Maru I thought back about the events of early morning and compulsory lecture at the ranger. What I saw was still fresh in my mind.



We were up early, reveille at 05:30 and underway at 06:16. We conned the Tora Maru through dense fog proceeding very slowly. Our feeble horn echoing off unseen shores. The fog lifted enough to put up a bit of speed and clear the harbor of Excursion inlet .. We had shaped up a course for Icy passage rounded Ancon Pt. At 09:36 under cloudy but brightening skies we tied up at the Glacial Bay National Park dock in Bartlett's Cove by 10:30 On the way we confirmed our reservation which were made back last February . The park ranger assigned us a temporary tie up and summoned us into the ranger station for checking our ID and indoctrination to the park regulations. Myself, skipper and crew were all impressed by the trophy room. Not in the sense one thinks of when this word comes up. Hung from walls and various standing exhibits were things, the fury of predators, mainly bears. Shredded kayaks, tents, food storage boxes, metal containers, clothing all victim to the teeth and claws of grizzlies, wolves, walrus and toothy seals. He emphasized not smelling like food, even the dinghy. At the conclusion he told us where the most numerous whales sightings were . Also, anchorages, and which glaciers were calving.





JD and the crew pose for a picture before entering the park

To be continued

JD

[The Bigfella]

Those love-birds sure do cuddle up don't they?

[Robbie 2]

Well it's a wonder any body still peeks in here with a sex thread and a running discussion about M.Mike pin ups. But hang in there viewers I got yarns about sailing in the South pacific to Tonga, Shaula sinking and another stab at Bermuda still to come.

Oh yes some more visits to National parks and tenting at the Battle of the Lttle Big horn . Does "Medicine Tail Ford" ring a bell here?

JD

Those are just side issues...here is where the really important and most interesting thread is to be found.
Regards
Robbie

[Eric D]

talk about a teaser....keep it up JD!!!

[J. Dillon]

I guess I better post another episode soon. Got some good pix and still rewriting some of the "happenings".

JD

[Paul Pless]

looking forward to it as always

[Ron Paro]

I just got caught up on reading your yarn JD. Still good reading, and great photos! I agree that the blue ice bergs were very 'neat' pictures. What makes them so blue? I have never seen that before.

Thanks for keeping it going! - Ron

[MiddleAgesMan]

I had never seen icebergs that shade of blue before but it's funny how, now that I've seen JD's, I've twice seen such blue 'bergs on the boob tube. The Travel Channel just did a piece about an Alaska cruise and in several wide shots you could see the blue beasts all around the ship.

[J. Dillon]

While at the park entrance /ranger station we obtained some supplies, topped off our water tank, and shoved off at 13:20. Tora Maru was bound north into Glacial Bay NP. The waters were still windless with lowering skies. Our destination for the night would be Ried Inlet with a stop in John Hopkins Inlet and Lamplugh Glacier which was supposed to be calving. On the way bears were sighted on the shore as well as two whales spouting in the distance. Park regulations specify keeping a distance of ½ mile from whales so we didn’t go any closer.
Another good sized berg appeared ahead so we changed course to get up closer to it. Luckily we got off the last one a few days ago before it turned, so this time we preferred to drop the dinghy over and take pix from different angles.



Dog berg



Bill attacks the berg

Bergs of various sizes became more prevalent as we proceeded. By 19:40 we rounded up into John Hopkins Inlet to make the final westerly turn into the opening and there it was Lamplugh Glacier in all its blue glory, complete with a slide as we approached. It was incredibly cracked with fissures. Some sections were split open, others had great menacing overhangs and still other portions had water line caves. To top it all off there was the ever present sound of cracking reminiscent of trees buckling under the burden of snow or ice back in New England. Pieces of all sizes came tumbling down into the frigid graying waters sending huge splashes and tumbling waves to gently rock the quiet Maru.



Our Glacier is calving, (to the right) small but continuous



The colors surrounding us were worthy of an artist’s palate. The berg was blue with the lower levels exhibiting the deepest almost cobalt blue with lighter more delicate shades further up. Some sections of the glacier were dark with debris picked up as it advanced but most of the top looked much like dirty snow. The glacier was calving before our eyes. George encouraged this by making as much noise as he could with the fog horn but we voted that down as it spoiled the whole grandeur of the spectacle. You’ll notice on the map various lines with dates near them. They indicate the extent of the glacier on various surveys: Lamplugh 1966, and Johns Hopkins 1966, and further eastward 1912, definitely receding.



Map showing portions of glaciere we visited



Lamplugh glacier



In the distance towards Mt. Cooper we could see tents of campers and wondered where the owners were. The sun broke out for a bit revealing the tops of distant mountains. It was getting late for the hungry crew of the Maru so we turned to head a few miles east to stay in Ried Inlet for the night. A quick dinner and four of us went out in the dinghy at 21:50 for a hike to the Ried Glacier. We pulled up on the beach and walked the last mile and I noticed it became increasingly colder with each step nearer this massive moving ice cube. This one was receding and one could see where the last moraine of the previous winter left its pile of rocks. There were also caves, overhangs, and large fissures, but none were active or threatening. The debris on top and near the base was composed of mostly rock chunks of all sizes from tons to ounces. Several were near the surface and I dug one out with my knife. It had an unusual surface ( Since found out it is fossilized coral)



Fossilized stone I dug out of the glacier About 2" long

The light was lowering slowly and the day nearing its end at 23:30 so we headed back to the Maru for the end of a long but eventful day in Glacial Bay.

To be continued

JD

[J. Dillon]

Goofed on above map size. Just made it smaller

JD

[Eric D]

Neat fossil JD, so do you have any idea why the bergs are so blue??

[J. Dillon]

Eric D.

This is the best and simplest explanation of why the ice is blue.

Physiology
An iceberg is a piece of glacial ice that can measure one metre or more above sea level. When an iceberg is in the water, approximately 90 percent of its mass is below sea level.
Learn more:
• Just the facts
• Icy indicators
Icebergs are normally white because of all the tiny air bubbles in the ice. The bubbles reflect all light waves, giving the iceberg a white appearance. An iceberg looks blue in colour when the ice is bubble-free. This is because when white light, made up of all colours combined, passes through the ice more red light is absorbed than blue light, causing any light that has passed through a reasonable thickness of ice to appear blue.

[J. Dillon]

07:05 Our chef and chief steward cooked up a memorable breakfast topped off with pancakes. The lovebirds were always horsing around in the galley but this time spilling maple syrup in a locker would have dire consequences later. With the anchor up we got underway beneath a cloudy overcast day but the visibility was good enabling us see to the horizon .



Lowering clouds allowed views of mountain tops.


Even the mountain tops were visible as we set course for The Grand Pacific and Marjorie Glaciers.The water had a frigid look liberally sprinkled with ice bergs of all sizes but white seemed to predominate.



The waters took on a more frigid look

As we proceeded up the Tarr Inlet the ice bergs became more numerous and it was apparent we were near another calving glacier. Some shapes were fantastic. Varying in appearance, some looked like bears, others like geese sitting on the water and a third a bird about to take flight. The guide material furnished by the Park Service warns of approaching too close to calving glaciers. Occasionally they will fall deeply into the water and surface some distance away and with great velocity. Something to be aware of. Whales in the upper regions are scarce, as they prefer to feed lower down the bay. As we approached the glaciers it soon became apparent that the Grand Pacific Glacier was quite dirty and old looking, while Marjorie looked young, fresh, quite blue, and was doing a minimum of calving.


Looking at the charts for the upper reaches of Glacial Bay a notation sits in the corner saying, "Strong magnetic disturbances on the compass". With the penetrating cold around us it was hard to imagine that deep underneath us was a cauldron moving molten iron around causing that disturbance. Eyeball navigation and studying contour lines and elevations are essential for safe passage if you don't have radar or a functioning Loran.

This point at the base of the two converging glaciers marked a turning point in my epic. Once we turned around on a southerly heading, I was homeward bound as all courses eventually led to the south and east of 59o 04 N 137o 03 W. I thought of Shaula basking under the summer sun back in CT, lonely but a lot warmer then I at the moment. I had repaired her from the fire damage so I could step aboard when I returned home and resume living on my own boat. Could I light off the propane stove again without trepidation ? My burn gloves were getting pretty shabby now a constant reminder of that moment months ago where I almost lost my life aboard Shaula. Of course I’ve been living with propane aboard the Toro Maru . In a few weeks I’ll be home and will soon enough find out.Our routine for the day was to poke into various inlets but with southerly headings and anchoring for lunch. George netted some ice for chilling drinks.



George nets some ice



Henry, George , Hilly and me by glacier



Calm waters allowed reflected beauty

The chilly water remained flat and calm with hardly any wind . This permitted reflections doubling the inspirational aura of this place.
We continued southerly easing in and up close to tempting inlets where a cruise ship could never venture. Each turn revealed unexpected wonders.



We poked into places the cruise ships daren't go


Cruise ships were sighted at various times and one has to wonder just how much seeing of the park they do. They do get in pretty close when depth allows but never seem to anchor or stay long, always hurrying off in another direction. I suppose the majesty of this place could encourage mystics to encamp here, like the holy men of the bible wandering in the desert, but the harshness of life here wouldn’t encourage long time residence, nor would the almost absence of sunlight. Only kayakers stay for brief interludes of camping all through here.


Safely anchored for one more night I thought more about my east bound journey soon commencing. I’d be heading back across the US, not afloat, but living out of my van and alone again, just meeting new people briefly, not on an intimate level like now aboard Tora Maru. You get to know people pretty well sharing the same quarters and head. George would be going back to his divorce proceedings and everyday business affairs. Henry back to lecturing students and Bill once again resolving to quit smoking. What will Hilly do now when back in Juneau? Her sister would be coming up from Petersburg to take her home to three young ones and back to the reality of dirty diapers and squawking kids. The honeymoon over.

As we moved down the bay the weather remained benign and calm and even started to warm up with some brightening in the sky. On the way out from the park all hands wanted to stop at the ranger’s office make some phone calls and get various sundries like tobacco for those thus addicted. Booze also had high priority especially with our honeymooners. Soon we would all be back in reality. Leaving the dock we headed for Excursion Inlet to tie up at the public dock near the cannery we left the other day. The happy couple cooked a salmon dinner which even at 22:00 tasted great. Afterwards, we sat on the after deck and watched a Bald Eagle catch a fish right before our eyes. The time here is deceptive. It's 23:07 and it is still light. Tomorrow we push for Juneau about 10 hours away and against the current.

Next

Back In Juneau, departure and paying the price of maple syrup.

JD

[The Bigfella]

Hmmm - maple syrup? Ants?

[Eric D]

JD, thanks for the quick research. Very interesting.

Bigfella, that is my guess too...but it is probably too cold for ants so...???

[The Bigfella]

mosquitos?

[clancy]

One year and counting JD, thanks and please keep the stories coming.

[J. Dillon]

Thats right Clancy. It has been one year today that Paul launched this thread. For me it has been a voyage down memory lane I probably never would have embarked. At my age It's been good to get it down on paper or in this case electronically before Alzheimer's takes over erasing it all. I still got a way to go and hope to keep entertained all who took the trouble to click on.

Future installments will deal with sailing yarns as well as boats built and maybe some family, if I can find the photo's . Some got lost when "Shaula" my home afloat sunk to the bottom. More about that in a future yarn.

Thanks all and especially Paul Pless

JD

[rufustr]

"this time spilling maple syrup in a locker would have dire consequences later."

Come on JD, what the hell can maple syrup do in the locker that might cause dire consequences?

[The Bigfella]

Come on JD, what the hell can maple syrup do in the locker that might cause dire consequences?

Steven Segal would make a bomb out of it

[rufustr]

The maple syrup mutates and starts eating the boat.

[The Bigfella]

The lovebirds get it on in the locker and get all sticky?

[J. Dillon]

06:30 Today started as a total surprise. When I woke sunlight prevailed. I could see it shining, its rays piercing into the main salon, shifting slightly as the Maru swung on her anchor nudged by a westerly wind. Once I was on deck it was apparent brightness would last the day at least with deep blue skies and fluffy cumulus clouds racing easterly. In a sense the clouds a pilot, guiding our predominant direction with welcome sun light. This will be our last day underway. When we get back to Juneau our gallant craft will just be a boatel, a sleeping place before we catch our individual flights and all go our separate ways. Of course, there are mixed emotions about this; glad that it is over and we can get on with our real lives and on the other hand the wish to venture on to new ports, experiences, and people. As usual, Bill and I got the Maru underway with a few grumbling heaps of humanity stirring below. We weighed anchor at 06:45. The trip back was delightful, the sun shining brightly causing deep shadows on what had been glum sameness with little variation in tone. We proceeded down Icy Straight, turned north west of Mansfield Island, south into Saginaw Channel, then hooked a little south of Douglas, to finally swing north up Gastineau Channel. We tied up at Juneau at 16:40 After filling up at the gas docks every body scattered, but Bill and I strode into the Red Dog Saloon.



A tourist trap for sure


Bill made a call to Dale, the owner’s agent for the charter. He was to fly up to Juneau the next day to inspect the boat and give us our deposit. The Saloon was what you’d expect in Alaska but this one had a bunch of tourists gawking at the trophy heads that ranged from big horn sheep to moose . They looked miserable covered in dust and soot from noxious fumes of tobacco, some I’d wager from the puffs of 49er’s long ago. Ship artifacts hung as well, like life rings never cast in real peril. Maybe some how there were hopes of saving the dusty animals looking forlornly at us. This place must have been something in the gold rush days filled with hopefuls expecting to strike it rich, some never venturing much past this very spot, cheated out of all they owned and doomed to stay in Juneau. Bill and I talked of going home as soon as the ship business was concluded.

Our lovebirds came into the conversation as to what would happen with them. Bill told me George was serious about Hilly. I replied I felt the same way with my transition lady. But the difference here was that they were both the same distance down the divorce road. You really need a partner ahead a few miles to help guide you. The smoke started to get to me so Bill and I left. We went back to the Maru to meet of all people, the honeymooners . We never expected them back so soon when they took off from the boat. I was really tired but they had been sleeping most of the way back and were ready to party some more . They just hadn’t given up. I like them both but felt we all have to get back to reality. I’d be glad to get on the plane to get a little relaxation for a change. Navigation and current problems were over for now. Our liberty parties got back aboard in stages. Bill and I first, the Honeymooners next, still enjoying a state of euphoria helped with a bit of booze. Finally Henry, the "Count", who should know enough about drinking too much at his age. They were all reasonably quiet so Bill and I had a fair amount of sleep this night.

A bright sun greeted us this morning and we’ll not be underway, but rather commence a clean up the Maru day. I got up at 08:30, tried to make a few phone calls, but could not get through. The entire crew was up later by 09:00 and we all had breakfast ashore. Then we all turned to cleaning our vessel.



These guys know a few tricks

Even the dock was busy. Fisherman stripped in the sun, the first view of it in many days. They knew a few tricks that would come to our rescue later.


.
Mendenhall glacier

After cleaning, we took a tour to the Mendenhall Glacier, the transportation furnished by Hilly’s sister who was also one of Henry’s last night drinking partners. The trip to the Glacier was not too inspiring as compared to what we had seen the previously. However it was apparent that one of our encounters to a berg might have been spawned by the Mendenahall Glacier. The same shade of blue seemed to permeate other bergs as well. This was also a day for goodbyes and farewells as we would be going our separate ways. The honeymooners would be going back to Petersburg, and Henry to Seattle for two days to visit a cousin. I and Bill would be leaving as soon as we concluded ship’s business to later part in Seattle. When we got back to the boat Dale was already there. I hardly recognized him. He looked out of place in a sports jacket with a shirt and tie. Bill lit up, offering a butt to Dale. He refused stating he’d given them up. His focus was on the water. Bright sunlight reflected off the boats nearby with dancing rays along each hull. They seemed so joyful, not reflecting what was on Dale’s mind. Bill and I also stared into the water, at the stream of bubbles bursting to the surface to explode in the sunlight. Dale watched intently as well . His eyes followed the bubbles as they crossed the stern and lingered some-what. Bill and I exchange knowing glances, wondering what the diver might find. We did touch bottom back in Butdale the Maru listing on a shelly bottom, dropped there by a gently receding tide. At the time we figured there was no damage as things seemed normal when afloat once again and underway. Finally, the diver surfaced. We all looked intently at him, each expecting a signal of some kind. He made his way to the boarding platform and pulled himself up and aboard. Whipping off his mask and gear he pronounced that all looked OK. prop, shaft, rudder good and bottom sound as far as he could see. Dale seemed disappointed. Bill exhaled. I grinned inwardly. Dale was out to catch us on something so continued his inspection. He and I went through the engine room check and all seemed to be OK. He seemed satisfied with the condition of the boat yet suggested we clean it some more, especially the decks and salon. Afterward, the three of us went to lunch ashore. Dale departed telling us he had to make some arrangements to get the boat back to La Conner, WA. Bill and I hit the Maru once again. The sun still was shining at 17:00 and looked like it would be for the rest of the day. Bill and I scrubbed down the boat with fresh soapy water again. The Maru gleamed. She looked better than when we first boarded her. We both went ashore, this time to book a flight for Seattle tomorrow. When we got back aboard Dale was there. A look of glee was plastered his face. His jacket and tie was off and shirt sleeves rolled up . It was apparent he’d been snooping around more throughly. He greeted us with "When are you guys going to clean the galley?" Answering defensively Bill and I blurted out "We did!"

"I smell something sweet coming from one of the lockers. It stinks, what the hell is it ?"

Bill and I knew right away what he was talking about; the spilled bottle of maple syrup . We had become used to it, but some syrup apparently leaked down behind the ceiling, unreachable, escaping any cleaning George & Hilly did to mop it up at the time. Dale had triumphed. He absolutely glowed at his discovery. Like Captain Quegg in the "Caine Mutiny" when deducing the source of the strawberry theft. It was easy to see Dale had an item that could be deducted from our deposit. To get at the syrup properly one had to remove the locker, take off some of the ceiling and that would cost time and money. Bill and I were committed to fly out in the morning so us getting the tools and doing it seemed daunting for the moment. Dale blurted out, "Clean it up if ya expect to get all your money back," and left for his hotel room still smiling. It looked like Dale won, or had he ?


Bill lit up resigned. We had to think. Walking the docks to look around, the pair of us started gamming with a couple of fishermen we had seen earlier drying and repairing nets. They told us of their woes and how their brothers further north are cut throat in behavior never helping one another but severely competing. This they said was untrue of the fishing in the panhandle. We got to telling of our battery problems with them and related our dilemma with Dale. "****," one said, "We have spill troubles all the time. We’ll look at it." Well, two of them came aboard took off the locker and unscrewed the ceiling in the region of the spill exposing the gloppy mess. Almost a full bottle. One went back to his boat and returned with dry ice placing it on the muddle instantly freezing it. A chisel made short work of the glop. A few sprays of car deodorant completed the clean up. Later we had a hearty round of drinks to go around at a local bar the fisherman knew. Back aboard, Bill and I slept soundly, our last night aboard. Would Dale be satisfied ?

next A reunion with an old shipmate and Penguin sailboats

JD

.

[The Bigfella]

Aha - kept us guessing eh Jack. Well done

[rufustr]

Very sneaky JD.

[Eric D]

well done, we all missed it...

MORE the crowds chanted.....

1 year? wow...that flew by

[J. Dillon]

I hope to get out another episode tomorrow after the launch of Ssse. See Theory, Reality and Boat building above in Building and Repair for details.

JD

[Paul Pless]

Just got caught up again.

Thanks all and especially Paul Pless

JD

Don't mention it, its been pure pleasure enjoying your tale.
Thnaks for taking the time to share it with us.

[J. Dillon]

Homeward bound 2
East bound across the US



Portion of Washington State map

My flight was right on time landing in Seattle at 10:30 Pacific Daylight time. Bill got hotel reservations in Seattle as he was staying over for two days with George. He intended to get back to Petersburg and whisk Hilly and her brood of three kids to CT. At about 12:30 I bade farewell to Bill but we’ll meet again in late August . It was a bit sad for us, being in the same boat for over a month, but farewells are not forever. The bus back to Mt Vernon, WA left a half hour late, then a $20 taxi ride back to La Conner to pick up my van. She was sitting just where I left her, nobody touched her, and she started right up. Back on the road I was bound for Ferndale to reach my son-in-law’s folks . They were living aboard at a local marina there and had promised to hold my forwarded. mail. Now for a little detective work. Inquiring at the local old timer’s pub I inquired as to just where was an R.V park and marina at Sunset Point. Their boat was gone when I arrived, so I called up to get a message on their machine which said they will not be back for a couple of days. It took four more inquiries to locate their truck and there sitting on the front seat, my mail. Truck unlocked. I already had dinner in Ferndale at a local diner so now the thing to do was to camp here at the local marina for the night.
It was a bit cool but nice in the van. There seemed to be a nice southerly off the water here at Point Sunset as the sun went down in a clear sky after an eventful day. I had time to reflect on the day’s events:
Dale had came aboard early that morning, his nose sniffing around the galley.

"What’d you guys do? This place had a sickly sweet smell yesterday."

Bill replied with a wink at me.

"We managed to get a cleaning service who came aboard and took some things apart to get at a syrup smell."

"What things?" Dale snorted.

Bill explained about the locker and ceiling. Dale looked perplexed for an instant but he was a fast thinker, he had dealt with situations like this before. He loosened his tie a little . It was easy to see his wardrobe was uncomfortable for him and that he much prefered something more casual. Bill lit up confident we won this round. We both waited for Dale’s response. Dale glanced at our bags packed ready to leave . He knew we had booked passage on a flight soon to depart. He probably knew which flight. Finally he reached in a brief case he had with him and pulled out a check book. Bill smiled. Me too. We won. Dale said nothing, just started filling out the check and handed it to Bill. There was a downcast expression on Bill’s face and the mood quickly changed for me too.

"Something’s wrong." Bill piped up.

"Dale, you’re one hundred bucks short."

"Don’t worry" he replied, adding " You’ll get the rest in the mail. If I don’t find anything else wrong. You understand, I got to protect the owner. There was not time to argue. We had to get to the airport Bill and I cursed Dale under our breath. Bill was too much of a gentleman to get nasty but preferred to trust Dale’s word. We just both picked up our bags and left on the waiting taxi. At the terminal we both agreed it was a good cruise even if we never saw the money again. We could chalk it up to part of the expenses. What did bother us was we were outfoxed by Dale.

Arriving in Seattle, my goal was to visit an old shipmate. While visiting Admiral Russel USN Ret. a month ago, ( see page 9) I had obtained Admiral Stanley’s Phone # and intended to visit him if possible. He started the USS Coral Sea boat club, way back in 1950
I made the call to his home and was told he just left for the office. The directions to get there were OK, and aided by a map, I found it easily in downtown Seattle. Driving around Seattle reminded me of hilly Yonkers, NY., where I grew up. I even found a parking space. Visiting a third old shipmate, and an admiral to boot, what could one expect? Another officer, remote to me as officers and enlisted didn’t mix then, but now, we were both civilians. Relax, I said to myself, remember how warm Admiral Russel was?
His secretary said the Admiral would be right with me. I was surprised he was still addressed as Admiral even though long retired and running his own consulting business. A richly paneled door opened, and out stepped the Admiral. He walked towards me hand extended. It was easy to recognize him trim and a military bearing was still apparent. Thinning white hair accented his deep brown eyes with the knowing twinkle I recalled from four decades ago. I grasped his hand and introduced myself, adding , "Do you remember me?"

"Of course," he said, "You’re the guy who capsized."

My brain spun some. Sensing my distress he added,

"Come into my office, I’ll pour you a cup of coffee."

He briefly related his numerous capsizing while at the naval academy. I didn’t feel at all patronized, but rather recalled his way with people, always aware and looking out after those under his charge. A trait never lost but refined with time. From the 5th floor window I could see the water so blue and remarked about it to him.

"Yes," he said, "I can see the marina where I keep my boat."

He asked what I’ve been doing and I related a brief outline of the past 40 years but focused on my just concluded Alaska venture. He listened intently, but asked about the boats I built. I felt he was a lurking builder. This was confirmed when he said he always wanted to build a boat but never got around to doing it.
At once my mind went back to our mutual building venture aboard ship. The Korean War had just broken out and our sailing whale boat was replaced by another jet fighter.
Back then Commander Stanley was our supply officer and procuring things was his forte.

"But Admiral you got us three Penguin sail boat kits aboard for the crew to build during off duty hours", I replied, adding, "I remember you being a working part of it"

"Yes, I mean something bigger like a cruising ketch" he said.

We talked at length of building two of the Penguin sail boats and how we all puzzled over the plans and construction details. All of us total novices. There were mainly six in number hacking away at the pile of plywood, including Commander Stanley, cutting , glueing, screwing and painting that lovely Phil Rhode design. The Admiral remembered Don from E division laboriously planing down the masts. Curls of spruce falling to the shiny steel deck while our mess deck MAA Ryan was frowning but not able to say a word . After all, his boss was right there contributing to the wood shavings. We sailed those little cat boats in various Med ports but the one I recall the most was in Toronto Bay, Italy, a big naval base and ship yard where the Andrea Doria was then under construction. The day was sunny but with a gusty wind blowing . The commander was ashore on a nearby beach readying the other Penguin for a sail. I was at the helm with Ed, another sailor from my division was tending the sheet. In a flash a gust hit us and we were over, the salt water of the bay engulfing the two of us and the boat. Fortunately the water was still warm. The commander got a navy motor whale boat to us to tow us to the beach where we completely bailed the boat and took off once more. We both had a laugh at that one and I related that I’d had capsized twice more since then.
An hour ticked by, the two of us exchanging yarns. Finally the secretary buzzed in and an important call was on line two. It was time to bid farewell.



Portion of National Parks Map

Next,, National Parks, The Little Big Horn, Sturgis and motorcycles.

JD

[Steveh]

You could call me a lurker but I’m probably less than that. Coming and going here and there, cast my line out this way and then that. Have a little read and then go. Missing the big one. They say hindsight is a great thing but the occasion is history, gone and hopefully in some instances never repeated. But I reckon the internet and in particular the Wooden Boat Forum is a great thing. Leap forward into the future… now where can you do that? Only on this thread.

You fish here and you fish there, forever hoping to catch ‘the big one’ or the one that got away, stripping all your line and spitting you out without ever getting a glimpse… but not this monster. I’m hooked and I know I’ve got a dousie and I know I’m not going to loose this one. Just real him in nice an slow, savour every parry because you know you’re hooked and hooked well and truly on the Wooden Boat Forum on a thread that’s telling of 11 years on a 27 footer, hey I’ve got time. JD living aboard for 11 years and then this, telling us all about it, going this way and that then, the navy stories, the passage making, I’m going back because that’s as far as I’ve got. Back to 04/07/07 and I’ll just keep reeling you in enjoying your experiences savouring every tale. Truly awesome.

This is trophy material.

Thank you.

[crazyriver23]

thank you jd for sharing your journey work! you seem to be one hell of a man!! thanks again!!!!

[J. Dillon]

Thanks Steveh, Your kind words help to keep me going.

Will be yawning about sailing aboard a topsail schooner from Bay of Islands NZ to Tonga soon. Lots of pix

Thanks Crazyriver . Gota be yarn in that name.

JD

[Steveh]

2 very nice places to sail from and too JD, Hanging out for the next installments.

[J. Dillon]

Some National Parks



My dash mounted compass read SE as I rolled along on Rt 90 homeward bound. I had over 3,000 miles to go and a lot of things to see in between. Resolving not to rush this overland journey, I determined to see more of my country and savor every moment.

Leaving the Cascades mountain range the scene was different. Lack of meaningful rain on western slopes had its visual effect. The eye took in low, well rounded hills sparse of trees, but supporting sagebrush. As I moved further east the plowed soil became very black in color near the eastern end of Washington state. I pulled off the road in Spokane, WA to have dinner at "Old Country Buffet" where one could have all you can gulp down for six bucks. I also provisioned up my land yacht so that I could dine aboard, breakfast, lunch and dinner and not be dependent on eateries scarce in the boonies here. Crossing into Idaho at 19:00 I started to look for a place to camp for the night, toying with the idea of staying at a rest stop, but the first one I came upon had a sign posted that overnight camping was prohibited. It had a look about it that seemed to mean business, reinforced by the absence of any kind of camping vehicle. Driving a few more miles I stumbled on "Mountain View Camp Grounds". A hand painted sign on two weathered sheets of plywood announced $8.00 as a charge for overnighters. Some enterprising farmer had decided to clear a few trees and bushes and tap into the camper market. The "facilities" consisted of a sheltered pit also more commonly known as an Outhouse. However it was safe from diligent rest stop inspecting cops and vandals. The look of impending rain emphasized its drearyness. Bad weather was promised for the night but never materialized. I think I drove out of that forecast area and will slept soundly for the night, even under cloudy skies. In the distance something was baying at the moon. Tomorrow maybe Wyoming and the National Park.

Another early day as I did want to leave the "Crummy Camp Grounds", a name I coined for the place. Yellowstone National Park was my destination It didn't take long to go through Idaho and it seemed there was nothing much to see in the area I passed through, so by 07:00 I was in the state of Montana. Now Montana is beautiful with tall hills on either side of Rt 90 . I guess the trees were cedars as near as I could judge from the road, with some hemlock and firs mixed in. This kind of country settled out after a while and gave way to a wide lush valley with beef cattle grazing on the land on both sides of the road . The grass was a very healthy green and not burnt looking as I had seen in other states. The hills on either side had a soft velvety light green look about them and it appeared to be easily hiked or horsed through the trees to reach the summits. This scenery lasted for most of the time that I passed through. I left Rt 90 to get on to Rt. 287 to go south directly to the west entrance of the Yellowstone National Park. I passed Madison River and Earthquake Lake which was formed 20 years ago by a quake in the area. You can still see the naked trees thrusting through the surface of the lake, a kind of stark forbidden sight, especially under gloomy looking skies. It had been raining on and off all day and I had been switching sun and regular glasses constantly. I arrived at the park entrance at 16:30 only to find it full and no camp sites available today. Going through the town of Yellowstone I doubled back on Rt. 287 to pull into the Gallatin National Forest campgrounds and found myself a spot. The registration envelope warned of bears as this is their country, and in fact forbid tents, pop- ups and any camping device not totally enclosed. The warnings sounded quite ominous and encouraged the use of "Bear Bells" to be attached to your ankles. The sound alerted the countryside of your venture into the wilds. Feeling secure in my metal van, my mind wandered back to the shredded remains of metal containers displayed at the ranger’s orientation room back in Glacier Bay National Park. I pulled an extra blanket over myself to ward off the chill descending on me.

Yellowstone National Park is the first national park ever conceived. Its size is daunting, in fact, most of CT can fit within its borders.



West entrance to the park

In the wee hours the cold required two blankets to keep me warm and prevented jumping up at an early hour. Eventually I did stir, had breakfast, put on a warm sweater, and broke camp by 08:00 in a thick morning fog. Dew drops hung on everything. The sun was glistening now and gave cheer to one’s soul with the promise of a clearing day. Going into the town of West Yellowstone which is still in Montana, I got a few supplies, and left to enter the Park by 09:30. It was 14 miles to the camp site from the entrance. I was fortunate to get a site and I hung up my "Campsite Occupied " sign in site A 16, my home for the night. I looked at the material and map provided by the ranger and decided to see the geysers today, including "Old Faithful". Another drive of 16 miles got me to the Visitor center and the feature attraction. On the way there are numerous other geysers to look at including " Paint Pot "



Paint Pot geyser

Traveling the roads from the west entrance one soon becomes aware of the desolation the 1988 forest fire did to the park . Mile after mile the stark, needleless trees poked like burnt matches into the sky giving mute testimony to the fire’s wrath. Park rangers say that it is healthy in the long run because it provides a clearing for new undergrowth and the life systems it supports. But the present generation has to bear the bareness for now. Adjacent to the road is the "Firehole River", a paradise for fly fishermen who could be seen wading and casting away. Examining the above map carefully, you’ll see a dashed brown line from lower left extending upwards and to the right. This a portion of the approximate Caldera boundary - or to put it more bluntly the very top edges of a flat surface volcano devoid of the usual sloped peaks. Underneath and not very far down is a broiling cauldron of heat just waiting for the right combination to unleash its fury. For the mostpart it vents off harmlessly to awe visitors and me with thousands of geysers we all came to see. As I approached Old Faithful the crowds became thicker under a now beautiful sunny sky and parking became a problem. However, if one persists one always finds somebody leaving. Once parked, I could see the crowds clustered around the perimeter of Old Faithful so I knew her time was near. I hurried closer not wanting to miss the event as the brochures related that she erupts about every 80 minutes or so. The throng became denser. My height gave me an advantage as I could look over heads to see a fuming, steaming geyser spewing forth teasers for the expectant crowd. Each new burst was greeted by sighs from the waiting hordes. Babies cried, children whined camcorders cranked away, and photographers composed with nervous fingers poised to push. Restrained dogs sensing the tension even barked but nothing happened. Some complained of lost footage and batteries running down. Others even left, but the stalwart remained. Was this the day Old Faithful was to falter? Never! She didn't get that name for nothing. Finally a few healthy bubbles, then a great geyser rose steadily skyward in a blue sky, sending plumes of steam downwind, challenging the puffy cumulus clouds.

It was a grand sight as shutters clicked away and elated video cameras spun merrily. Afterward, as the plumes died down, a happy horde soon dispersed to admit a new audience. Of all times, I ran out my 24 exposures just as the eruption occurred so I had to wait for the event again. It was pretty much the same only I did notice less attendance as the noon event is the most convenient. I did the scene again, only this time I climbed to an observation point opposite the general one most visitors use. It was up on a hill. A small well used trail led the way for those wishing to view this wonder from a different angle.



Old Faithfull from a different angle

Old Faithful did her thing and it was time to give others a chance at this different angle. Climbing down I did go to the other geysers that erupt at more erratic times but are none the less spectacular. This course sent me two miles from the visitor center on a board walk all the way. This is to keep the public off at a distance as the steam can be dangerous and also to protect the delicate grass in the area. Various mineral pools dot the way . This one looks clear but supports no life as it is too enriched with mineral deposits.



Beautiful but lifeless mineral pool

I heard foreign tongues, mostly German. The walk back to the van seemed long even though the temperature was balmy. Back at my campsite I prepared dinner and later the weather became threatening with thunder heads off in the distance. After dark it came down and I could hear large hail stones beating down. The rumbling seemed to shake my little van reminding me of my single handed passage to Bermuda. Here I felt much safer and not quite alone as a nearby arguing couple in an adjoining campsite competed with the fury of nature. Early in the morning I could see it had cleared and a waning moon heralded the coming sun.

Next,

Why they call it Yellowstone

JD

[From Mystic]

What a great read. I had a run in with those flies on the ICW just alittle south of where you were. Our experience only lasted about 15 minutes. Amazing how those little creatures can take a human being out of his element. We were like a bunch as crazed lunatics. Thanks for sharing. FM

[From Mystic]

Wow I just realized this thread was 11 pages long.

Also JD I'm in the BVI right now and I just meet a guy two days ago who sailed down here from Virginia on a Pearson 28. You might be interested to see what he's been up to and how things may have changed.

seejoesail.wordpress.com

I've got some reading to do. FM

[Salin Sal]

Good stuff JD .keep it coming! Ya going do Custer ?

[beaky]

hi JD

just a little pressy from me to you to keep you writing and to say thank you

my avatar, inside the wherry hathor



jill

[J. Dillon]

Sal, Custer coming up soon and the Battle of the Little Big Horn. Some revealing facts not in most history books.

Beaky, Is that your boat? It looks quite cosy!

JD

[beaky]

hi JD

i wish

that piccy is in the saloon of the wherry hathor, my camera was perched on the piano that is fitted in the corner.

i havent realy got piccies of the inside of my boat on my new comp but
this is one

[beaky]

and this is an old post card with my boat moored outside the pub





jill

[beaky]

and this hathor moored in norwich at pulls ferry




jill

[J. Dillon]

Jill, If ya gonna live aboard that is the way to do it. Lot's of room for the comforts of life and a pub right outside.

Jill you might think of starting a thread of your own about your boat complete with pix and some of the homey stuff like the shell and bonsai tree and maybe about that turned bust.

I'm sure some of the Fourmites would like to hear you yarn about her.

JD

[J. Dillon]

Got up at 07:00, had breakfast, renewed my campsite, and was off for Norris, Mammoth Hot Springs, and the north entrance of the Park. On the way I did see some of the other geysers namely Steamboat, and the peripheral geysers in the vicinity. This time I had an opportunity to get very close to a burnt out area. Tall stark trees devoid of any greenery overshadowed the scene but underneath there was a carpet of green and new trees arising. Small, spindly and delicate they promised a new look sixty or so years from now. Maybe my grandchildren will enjoy them. I proceeded to the Mammoth Hot Springs and they are well named as the residual effects of the thermal action had built up mounds of all sizes and shapes. Some had died out or ceased thermal activity and consequently hardened up. The remains of dead trees protruded here and there.



Mineral mound at Mammoth hot springs



Salt dome geyser

I drove outside of the Park to gas up as I thought the gas price was excessive. I got a few groceries. Back in Yellowstone, I headed to the Petrified Tree. It was surrounded by an iron fence reminding me of a family cemetery plot, its monument an unfinished sculpture, the inscription not dealing with names of the dead but rather how it was formed.



Peterfied tree all fenced in

I saw most of the prominent geysers, so decided to see other attractions Yellowstone had to offer. I drove south heading for Canyon village, Inspiration Point and Tower Falls. This required a walk down to see the site made famous by John Muir, the artist. The Grand Canyon of Yellowstone and Inspiration Point was beautiful and the deep green of the Yellowstone River showed up well despite the height of over 1,000 feet. Also it became evident why the name was used as the yellow of the cliffs and bluffs featured this color in varying hues. It was created by hot water acting on volcanic rock.




The Yellowstone river meanders thru the park



Typical Yellowstone gorge

To be continued

[CharlieCobra]

I remember my one trip to Yellowstone. I was 18, into photography and kept getting into trouble. I was down off a bridge about 100' on the other side of a bush from a bull moose, about 6' away, when some idiot threw a rock and hit him in the ass about the same time I snapped a pic. I spent 30 minutes running round and round a big tree with him chasing me. When he finally got tired or bored, he ambled off and I went back to the bridge with blood in my eyes looking for that SOB. Never did find him but I got some really good pics.

[J. Dillon]

The Lower waterfall

The steep walls of the canyon had eye appeal, speckled green amongst the distinctive yellow of rocks and soil. They also focused the thunderous sounds of the falls to one’s ears.

The views of upper and lower falls were spectacular. You are allowed right up to the brink with a stout rail protecting you from a sheer drop of 308 feet.



On the brink of the falls




Why they call it yellowstone

There were many sites to view the river and the falls. The park service is to be commended regarding parking. They discreetly located mini lots within walking distance of the view without intruding on the grandeur.
Throughout the Park signs and pamphlets warn you of wild animals. In the past bears were a real problem and visitors were mauled and even killed. Their presence is less noticeable but bison are also dangerous if provoked. Visitors are constantly ambling up to these formidable large mammals and poking a camera in their faces. Although seemingly accustomed to this intrusion, occasionally the animal feels violated as his space is invaded and lashes out in an attack. In a talk, one ranger illustrated this by abruptly positioning himself two hand spans from one face in the seated assembly. He recoiled and the ranger made his point.



Lone Buffalo. You can see some remains of burnt trees in the background

Visitors are also warned not to stray off the boardwalks in the region of thermal activity as the crust is thin and walking there you can start a new geyser and become scalded by steam. I do think that so far Yellowstone has more warning signs than all the parks I visited so far. Does this make it the most dangerous? Not really as the dangers are well known. The only difference is that here at Yellowstone N.P. the very ground one walks on can open up and swallow you. On the way back to my camp site



Elk grazing

I pulled off the road to photograph a grazing elk, a truly huge but placid animal. He permitted close up shots to hundreds of people. In my campsite it is becoming cool as the sun sets on another day. Tomorrow an early start to head for the Tetons and Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

Next the Tetons

JD

[The Bigfella]

Great, as always Jack. Don't they say that Yellowstone is long overdue to blow again - and the last time that it did resulted in the ash that makes Idaho potatos good?