Pacific NW

Expeditions

Lee pulled up yet another empty crab trap this morning, save for a few whelks and starfish. I admire his persistence and wish he could get more crabs, but we seem to be choosing anchorages where there are few. Nonetheless, he faithfully rows out each evening and goes through the rigamarole of setting and hauling the trap. We got a lazy 0800 hrs start this morning and motored over to Endicott Arm. Another clear day, wow! It’s getting a little scarey now! My tide tables indicated high water slack for 12:30 hrs, which is what we needed to transit the tidal rapids that lead into Ford’s Terror, our destination. Entering the inner basin, I was horrified to see a wall of white water that seemed to drop 10 feet or so, rushing into the inlet! Ford’s Terror is unsurveyed water, and the entrance has many rocks, shoals, and serious rapids. All we were going by was our depth sounder and a rough hand-drawn diagram of the general area. We proceeded at one knot of speed over to the entrance of the rapids, where we anchored temporarily to wait for slack water. I set out in Modulus and rowed to shore so I could get a good view of the rapids. As I stepped out onto the shore, my radio fell into the salt water and was instantly fried. All contact with the mothership had been severed! I set out overland through thick brush and briars, up a ridge and many cliffs until I crested the summit and could see the rapids. When I saw them, I instantly had to relieve myself! A torrent of solid whitewater was rushing through the narrow canyon, about 1/4 mile long! It was flowing at least 16 knots, if not faster. Unbelievable. “I’m supposed to take my boat through this??!” I thought to myself. I sat on the ridge and studied the rapids for forty minutes or so, waiting for signs of slowing down. Suddenly and literally all at once, the boiling and seething white water halted. Slack water came fast! And I had to act fast to get back to the boat before it reversed! I bolted off the ridge and plowed through the brush, throwing my bag to the base of a cliff and jumping down after it. Once in Modulus, I pulled for all I was worth on the oars. Silent Partner was the picture of leisure when I returned. Christoph was washing dishes in the cockpit and Lee had a fire going in the stove. “Raise the anchor and start the engine!” I yelled from afar. Sweating profusely, I leapt into the boat and we raced into the rapids. Just in time! By the time we got through it was already coming in strong against us. True slack must have lasted a minute or so! We had gained the inner chamber. Massive, towering verticle walls a mile tall lined the entire four mile canyon that led to our anchorage. We were locked in, in one of SE Alaska’s most remote, uncharted places. No VHF radio reception, and satellite reception was spotty. I will not even attempt to describe how sublime the scenery was inside Ford’s Terror. It gave me a feeling of extreme privilege just being there. We couldn’t wipe the smiles from our faces. When Silent Partner brings me into a place like this, I am always struck by this fact: I am surrounded by ever-changing sheer beauty and incredible natural phenomena, and yet my whole home is right there with it! If I get cold, I can go down below and dig out my favorite sweater, or get a drink of OJ, or pull a book from my bookshelf. All while being in the most amazing places on this planet. Simple pleasures! I love Silent Partner, and today she has taken us to an exceptional place. We anchored off a steep-to mud flat at the head of the west arm of Ford’s Terror. The only sounds we heard were the gentle rush of the waterfall, a kingfisher, and avalanches coming off the 6,000 foot tall cliffs. For the rest of the afternoon we had soup and sandwiches and potato chips, eaten in the cockpit as we craned our necks to view the mountains above us, and just relaxed.