Jupiter processes from Prince Rupert, British Columbia to Ketchikan, Alaska in one long punishing day. The passage proves a miserable forecast, but arrival comes early by joining the Alaska time zone. Boat and crew arrive at the Petro Marine fuel dock with enough capacity to use the high-speed pump, loading 664 gallons of diesel within minutes.
Sleeping with the Fleet
A full gale shuts down the normally turbulent boat traffic of the busy port city and “Gateway to Alaska.” The fishing fleet is moored up on every float, and by radio the Harbormaster reports no vacancies for Jupiter within his jurisdiction of 6 harbors and 1300 slips, locally known as “stalls.”
All fueled up and nowhere to go, Jupiter is unexpectedly notified that one stall remains available within Thomas Basin if the boat does not exceed 60 feet in length overall (LOA). The crew duly reports Jupiter’s exact LOA of 59 feet 11 ¾ inches and, after giving way to a couple of colossal cruise ships with names like “Global Dominatrix” and “Eternal Magnificence,” we vellicate Jupiter into the assigned 60′ berth. And happy we be as the gale develops into roaring wet rage outside the breakwater.
The city of Ketchikan upholds its reputation for utility by finding us moorage, and providing for ships stores and provisions that we need – even if not exactly what we want.
You can’t always get what you want
Mick Jagger – 1969
But if you try sometime you’ll find
You get what you need
The Chuck
Improving conditions beckon Jupiter forth for a morning voyage to another crossroads of Alaskan civilization, Meyers Chuck. A chuck is a native-derived word meaning a bight of sea water. This salt chuck has been many things to few people within its protected harbor, and now offers visitors an astonishing new dock. Seven seventeen or seasonally seventy rusticators reside in the Chuck.
Along a narrow footpath the crew discovers a locked treasure chest, the contents of which remain undisclosed.
Jupiter loves the attention she receives at Myers Chuck, and the crew enjoys the footpaths and friendly folk who often entertain visitors with stories of vessel groundings on a notorious submerged and unmarked rock at the entrance.
The Suburbs
With the cosmopolitan precincts of Ketchikan and Meyers Chuck in our wake, Jupiter explores the sublime suburban wilderness of Ernest Sound, Seward Passage, Blake Channel and Eastern Passage. Icy peaks, steep inlets and fine anchorages tumble about in a chaotic sprawl of natural planning.
Jupiter’s anchorage in Berg Bay, described by the german word for mountain, unrelated to freshwater ice.
A double pectoral fin wave from a feeding humpback and a double peak of the Coast Mountain Range which defines the border between Southeastern Alaska and British Columbia.
Wrangell
On approach to Wrangell the water changes color from deep green to a milky-grey suspension of minerals carried by the wild Stikine River rising in British Columbia 380 miles from the sea.
Ancient Tlingit people occupied what is now called Wrangell, a strategic location for trade and travel at the Stikine estuary. John Muir used Fort Wrangell as a launching point for canoe and glacier expeditions during 1878-1880.
Wrangell, population 2,200, is a place for which Jupiter’s crew has great affection. The city’s charms lie just below the visible. It is at the center of interesting adventures involving glaciers, river systems, marine mammals, and bears, and for the curious offers petroglyphs lying about on beaches, and almandine garnets embedded in exposed walls of silvery mica schist.
Despite its many attractions, the city remains authentic. An occasional cruise ship disgorges its horde here and a local friend was recently asked by a newly shored passenger: “Is there even a town here?” Indeed there is – a kind community, and plentiful interest for those willing to find it.
Orange Garlic Cheeks
One of the crew was sent to buy two oranges and returned with a bushel. Fortunately they pair well with nearly everything, and especially halibut cheeks. The cheeks have been described as the “pulled pork of pescatarian pleasures” and are prized for their tender sweetness. In Wrangell local fishermen remove the cheeks from their catch for their own supper before turning the rest of their haul in to the processing plant.
Melt butter in a skillet until lightly bubbling. Toss in a chopped onion and cook a few minutes, then add lots of roughly chopped garlic. Cook over medium-high heat until garlic turns golden-brown. Using a peeler, slice a few strips of zest from an orange, cut into slivers and stir in. Cut the orange in half and juice it into the pan along with a splash of dry white wine, keeping the mixture bubbling lightly. Simmer down for a few minutes then pour sauce into a heatproof bowl and set aside.
Melt more butter into the same skillet and add the halibut cheeks. Season in the pan. Sear lightly and turn over. When cheeks are almost cooked pour sauce back into the skillet to bathe cheeks. Shower with chopped chives. Allow to meld for two more minutes then serve over basmati rice with a crisp green salad.
Chris West forward your blog to me…our cabin is one of the “rusticators” you mention!
We bought it in 1996, after my husband cliff retired from corporate America and took up commercial fishing for fun, and some fun has he and the family enjoyed…he’s headed there next week!
I know chris from tennis…she has told me a little about you, apparently you’re another expat…
Was great reading your blog and seeing the pics of mc…
Enjoy your summer at sea…
Wendy Hall
Loone2
What a small world! Thanks for checking in.