The Cellar - View Single Post - 8/2/2006: Cellarite seakdivers, from Hoonah Sound, Alaska

seakdivers · 08-06-2006, 10:00 PM

Hey xoB & UT - Thanks for getting this posted! I know my pics were out of sequence on Photobucket - I couldn't figure out how to rearrange them.

I've got a better narrative written by my husband (he's an author - can you tell?) Here it is..... it's a bit long, but it describes the events very clearly (I have to post it in two parts due to length)
***********

Friends & Colleagues;

This past weekend my wife, her father, and I took a three day journey from Sitka to the North Arm of Hoonah Sound. By the end, we agreed it was probably one of the most incredible if not revealing trips of our lives to date. For those not familiar with Southeast Alaska - it's different up here.
The blues are bluer; the greens are greener; the water is about 49 degrees year round; and it's one of the few places where nature reaches out to kill the stupid, the ignorant, and the prideful.

http://www.tongass-seis.net/shrd/shrd.html

Our plan was to go pull shrimp pots set by my father in law several days prior, or face the prospect of losing them. We left at about 4pm Friday and expected fairly bad weather (rain, wind, and a lot of rolling around).
Our course took us up past Katlian Bay, through Olga Straits, Neva Straights, and then out into the Eastern edge of Salisbury Sound. At that point, in the middle of our passage through Salisbury, it became clear that the weather was going to be different. The water was flat calm like glass and there was almost no wind. Clouds hung in the sky, black and gray, with the sun breaking through in conspicuous areas that always seemed just far enough away to be unreachable and more than a little disturbing.

These are common pre-storm conditions up here. And this particular region is known for being just miserable in terms of weather. Seeing it like this was special, if not bizarre and concerning. More bizarre - George (my father in law) gave me the helm for more than a while. It's a 48 ft Tollycraft(basically a yacht) named the Corlimaness. He rarely trusts anyone to take the wheel during any part of this particular run up North, but the weather was strangely accommodating. To be clear, I know enough to know that I don't
know enough to be piloting anything like this without George standing within shouting range.

We made our way up past Suloia Bay and reached Sergius Narrows, to cross it into Peril Strait. Everyone who travels up here knows that Sergius Narrows through to Peril Strait is the only place for the Pacific Ocean to flow through Baranof Island to Chatham Straits behind it. It is characterized by tides that can reach 8 knots, and dozens upon dozens of whirlpools. It is a dangerous area any for ANY vessel that crosses it, and some smaller craft wait until slack tide to be safe - especially if there's weather. But most times one can make it through alright if one pays attention. Larger boats,
however, must wait for slack tide. If they did not, the swirling currents can push them onto the rocks or, under the wrong circumstances, suck them down to the bottom.

http://www.nawwal.org/~mrgoff/photoj...giusbuoy2.html

See also:
http://www.nauticalcharts.gov/viewer/AlaskaTable.htm

We passed through the narrows to Peril Straight, which empties out at Poison Cove. Instead of going towards Deadman's Reach, we went to meet up with our shrimp pots in the North Arm of Hoonah Sound. They were stretched across the east side of Moser Island, which George calls "the deer factory". We reached our pots at about 11pm, and dropped anchor at the Northern most shore of Moser Island. There's a sort of cove there, and a shelf, which we hoped would hold the anchor in place. But with the wind so calm, the water so still, and clouds so strange - we joked that it would be no surprise to
wake up with our boat in the trees the next morning.

So early the next morning we woke to still calm and near perfect weather and pulled our pots; twenty had been set. The second pot contained no shrimp, but an octopus with it's longest arms stretching almost ten feet from tip to tip. The octopus had become trapped in our pot when it entered to eat all of the shrimp, which it did. In doing so, I guess it became too fat too leave. As octopus is a delicacy up here, and I let the last one go(a year or so ago), we decided to keep this one.

Over the course of the weekend we pulled and headed three sets of shrimp, resulting in 11 - 12 gallons of shrimp tails. These are the general family shrimp stores for the next six to eight months. Our average shrimp weighed about 2-3 ounces, with a lot of them bigger than that. Each set is stored in sea water for about two hours with water running over it, to allow the shrimp to evacuate it's waste without suffocating in it. Then they are headed one at a time by hand, and washed of their bluish-blackish blood. More importantly, they cook up white, and look and taste nothing like the grayish, foggy colored Argentinean shrimp that people in the lower 48 buy in
grocery stores and restaurants. After learning how those are caught and not cleaned, washed or evacuated - I won't eat shrimp in the lower 48 again. Let alone most other forms of seafood that I haven't caught myself.

In any case, after the first pull that morning, I went diving to look for bay scallops and Dungeness crab. Both are plentiful this time of year in different parts of Hoonah Sound. After an educational but unsuccessful dip to about 50 ft, I returned to
the boat. We pulled anchor and aimed for the head of Hoonah Sound to look for bears. This time of year, they are finding streams that open into the sound where the salmon are returning to spawn. And there are open flats breaking up the tree-lines all along the sound where bears can often be seen. As we headed deeper in, some deer came out of the tree line on Moser Island and followed us for a very short while across to Half Tide Neck.

Then things got real weird.

08-06-2006, 10:00 PM	#19
seakdivers Icy Queen Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: Southeast Alaska Posts: 700	The story in two parts Hey xoB & UT - Thanks for getting this posted! I know my pics were out of sequence on Photobucket - I couldn't figure out how to rearrange them. I've got a better narrative written by my husband (he's an author - can you tell?) Here it is..... it's a bit long, but it describes the events very clearly (I have to post it in two parts due to length) *********** Friends & Colleagues; This past weekend my wife, her father, and I took a three day journey from Sitka to the North Arm of Hoonah Sound. By the end, we agreed it was probably one of the most incredible if not revealing trips of our lives to date. For those not familiar with Southeast Alaska - it's different up here. The blues are bluer; the greens are greener; the water is about 49 degrees year round; and it's one of the few places where nature reaches out to kill the stupid, the ignorant, and the prideful. http://www.tongass-seis.net/shrd/shrd.html Our plan was to go pull shrimp pots set by my father in law several days prior, or face the prospect of losing them. We left at about 4pm Friday and expected fairly bad weather (rain, wind, and a lot of rolling around). Our course took us up past Katlian Bay, through Olga Straits, Neva Straights, and then out into the Eastern edge of Salisbury Sound. At that point, in the middle of our passage through Salisbury, it became clear that the weather was going to be different. The water was flat calm like glass and there was almost no wind. Clouds hung in the sky, black and gray, with the sun breaking through in conspicuous areas that always seemed just far enough away to be unreachable and more than a little disturbing. These are common pre-storm conditions up here. And this particular region is known for being just miserable in terms of weather. Seeing it like this was special, if not bizarre and concerning. More bizarre - George (my father in law) gave me the helm for more than a while. It's a 48 ft Tollycraft(basically a yacht) named the Corlimaness. He rarely trusts anyone to take the wheel during any part of this particular run up North, but the weather was strangely accommodating. To be clear, I know enough to know that I don't know enough to be piloting anything like this without George standing within shouting range. We made our way up past Suloia Bay and reached Sergius Narrows, to cross it into Peril Strait. Everyone who travels up here knows that Sergius Narrows through to Peril Strait is the only place for the Pacific Ocean to flow through Baranof Island to Chatham Straits behind it. It is characterized by tides that can reach 8 knots, and dozens upon dozens of whirlpools. It is a dangerous area any for ANY vessel that crosses it, and some smaller craft wait until slack tide to be safe - especially if there's weather. But most times one can make it through alright if one pays attention. Larger boats, however, must wait for slack tide. If they did not, the swirling currents can push them onto the rocks or, under the wrong circumstances, suck them down to the bottom. http://www.nawwal.org/~mrgoff/photoj...giusbuoy2.html See also: http://www.nauticalcharts.gov/viewer/AlaskaTable.htm We passed through the narrows to Peril Straight, which empties out at Poison Cove. Instead of going towards Deadman's Reach, we went to meet up with our shrimp pots in the North Arm of Hoonah Sound. They were stretched across the east side of Moser Island, which George calls "the deer factory". We reached our pots at about 11pm, and dropped anchor at the Northern most shore of Moser Island. There's a sort of cove there, and a shelf, which we hoped would hold the anchor in place. But with the wind so calm, the water so still, and clouds so strange - we joked that it would be no surprise to wake up with our boat in the trees the next morning. So early the next morning we woke to still calm and near perfect weather and pulled our pots; twenty had been set. The second pot contained no shrimp, but an octopus with it's longest arms stretching almost ten feet from tip to tip. The octopus had become trapped in our pot when it entered to eat all of the shrimp, which it did. In doing so, I guess it became too fat too leave. As octopus is a delicacy up here, and I let the last one go(a year or so ago), we decided to keep this one. Over the course of the weekend we pulled and headed three sets of shrimp, resulting in 11 - 12 gallons of shrimp tails. These are the general family shrimp stores for the next six to eight months. Our average shrimp weighed about 2-3 ounces, with a lot of them bigger than that. Each set is stored in sea water for about two hours with water running over it, to allow the shrimp to evacuate it's waste without suffocating in it. Then they are headed one at a time by hand, and washed of their bluish-blackish blood. More importantly, they cook up white, and look and taste nothing like the grayish, foggy colored Argentinean shrimp that people in the lower 48 buy in grocery stores and restaurants. After learning how those are caught and not cleaned, washed or evacuated - I won't eat shrimp in the lower 48 again. Let alone most other forms of seafood that I haven't caught myself. In any case, after the first pull that morning, I went diving to look for bay scallops and Dungeness crab. Both are plentiful this time of year in different parts of Hoonah Sound. After an educational but unsuccessful dip to about 50 ft, I returned to the boat. We pulled anchor and aimed for the head of Hoonah Sound to look for bears. This time of year, they are finding streams that open into the sound where the salmon are returning to spawn. And there are open flats breaking up the tree-lines all along the sound where bears can often be seen. As we headed deeper in, some deer came out of the tree line on Moser Island and followed us for a very short while across to Half Tide Neck. Then things got real weird.