Day 22

After a good deep sleep, we got up and discovered that it was a good thing the wind was blowing from the north all night. This was because when we turned on the depth sounder we were in 10 feet of water and sung out away from the drying flats. And it wasn’t even low tide. We must have been very lucky to have gotten through the night without even a bump, much less going high and dry at low tide. Needless to say, we got underway and away from the shallows pretty quick and were headed out on our short ho to Ketchikan by 7:30am, just late enough that customs should be open and awake. (It’s always better to talk to a hay agent rather than a grumpy one who just stayed got up)

As we entered Tongass narrows and approached Ketchikan, I called customs again and did my first border check-in. everything went extremely smoothly, the guy I was talking too was really enthusiastic and not nearly so stiff-collar and impassive as I imagined. I had everything ready and the process was going very well, until the agent got to the passport info, and I told him that my date of birth was October 4^th, 2000. At that point, since I had already declared myself skipper (that felt really good, by the way) I half expected to get into some kind of trouble, but the agent just thought it was really cool and, though he was a bit incredulous at first and had to ask for my birthday a few more times, there were apparently no official problems and I finished checking dad and I in, and the agent told us to call back once we got to a dock so he could send an officer down.

That done, I called Ketchikan Port and Harbors, who put us in the city docks, not exactly where we wanted, but not the worst place either. As we came up the narrows, it started to blow up to 25 knots in our face, and due to the shipping and close confines, (Hint: “Tongass Narrows”) we had to bash though it as best we could with the little engine, only making 2 or 3 knots over ground the whole time, and trying our best to dodge fishing boats, cruise ships, sport boats, and even float planes.

However, we did eventually make it all the way to the city docks, where we faced yet another problem: docking. Due to the way Ketchikan is set up parallel to the narrows, there wasn’t much protection from the wind in the harbor and it was still gusting well over 20 knots as we circled around looking for a suitable spot. What we ended up picking was less than ideal.

It was on the leeward side of the dock, so at least we wouldn’t be slammed into it, and we would have some better protection from wakes and chop, but the problem was that it was also sandwiched between two large-ish fishing boats, so I couln’t really come in exactly parallel to the dock. However, I had not intended to come in perpendicular. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened, as I tried to come in at an angle, but the speed was too great so dad had to jump off and push the boat off to keep her from slamming into the dock and one of the other boats, while I slammed the engine into reverse. We didn’t hit either the dock or either of the boats, but now we were only attached to the dock at the bow, the rest of the boat swinging to the wind perpendicular to the dock. Luckily since Darwind is so light, we were able to pull the stern in enough from the bow pulpit to get the stern line in and from there it was easy. Not the best docking, I know, but at least we made it.

Soon, the customs officer came down to the dock, and she proved to be just as easygoing as the agent, merely needing to look at our passports and ask about fresh fruit, etc… She didn’t even step on board, but I guess that makes sense, as there are different laws concerning smaller boats, and my only border crossing experience has been on the 50-foot Northern Passage. (Not including going into Canada earlier because Canadians are always nice and it’s never a problem anyway)

Customs, cleared and legally back in the US, dad and I then called Jason, my 26 year old Cousin who was doing some work in Ketchikan at the time, and he agreed to come down to meet us around lunch. Jason is from Girdwood, my cousin on my dad’s side, a civil engineer who specializes in bridge construction, and he happens to be six-foot-seven. No joke, even my dad has to look up at him, and when he ambled down to the boat with his huge strides, he looked ridiculous crouched over in the cabin’s barley six feet of headroom. After a short chat and showing him around the boat, (as you can probably guess it’s not a very long tour: two steps into the cabin, turn around and back out) we went across the street to a Filipino restaurant that served pizza, (we later discover that as far as we can tell there is only one restaurant that does not serve pizza, and we found on that offers American, Asian, Filipino, pizza, and Mexican) here we ordered a huge pizza with literally everything on it, which although it was large, stood no match for three hungry Reins, two of whom had just come off a boat with very limited cooking variety.

After lunch, we brought our devices over to Jason’s work to use the internet. (sorry I wasn’t able to get any blog posts out, but they were on the wrong device) From there, dad went to do some shopping at the hardware store for some supplies to deal with the fuel tank under the cockpit sole that we still need to get cleaned and operational, and I returned to the boat.

Here, after a few minutes of relaxation, I got a knock on the hull, and when I poked y head up I saw that it was Byron, a friend from Seldovia who has a little Tartan 27 and is really interested in possibly getting sailing more into the community. He was really interested in the boat, which is of a very similar design to his own, and it turns that that he even looked at it a few years ago when he was looking for a boat, and almost bought it! It was also interesting to note that at that time the rice was over 20k and I bought her for 10k, pretty good deal huh? Anyway, he was in Ketchikan working at the hospital, and invited us out for dinner that night, which I could hardly refuse, not having to cook twice in one day? Pure heaven. Later that day, dad and I headed over to Jason’s apartment for free hot showers, and by the time we were got back to the boat Byron was there waiting for us.

I just had to pop back down to the boat to put the lock on properly (earlier we were told that a boat in the marina got a bunch of stuff stolen off of it yesterday so we decided to be rather safe than sorry, unfortunately the combination to the padlock was nowhere to be found and I could inly remember the first two numbers. It’s a long story but eventually mom got the combination from the marina in Ballard and texted it to us) and soon after we were off on a little walk, it was amazing to walk past those cruise ships lined up all along the city front, and towering over the tiny town, made to look like a toy in comparison with the giant white and blue floating monstrosities of luxury. Also to compare the tow extremes of pleasure boating, here we were cramped into a tiny, damp boat, basically camping, and crawling along painfully slowly, and here thousands of people (paying thousands of dollars) lounge around in a moving five-star hotel with half a dozen restaurants and a pool just outside their rooms. I wouldn’t trade places for the world.

We ended up going to a really nice little Asian/American/Filipino restaurant, where Byron knew the owners, and where we all had some delicious, filling food. (My wonton soup was especially good). Thus enduing a busy day in “civilization” after over a week of secluded anchorages and small, quiet fishing villages. Also, we arranged for Jason to crew with me up to Wrangell, leaving tomorrow, so I wont get as much sleep as I was hoping, but at least I should be able to make it four days, with a few days to rest in Wrangell.