33 - The Ferry: The Last Leg of The Last Frontier

I left to ride to the front of the line. The lady behind the counter indicated it was ok for me to do so. Gotta love having only two wheels. Once on the boat, it took nearly 30 minutes for me to secure my bike. Then, I began hauling all of my stuff to the top deck where I set up my tent. Liz had finally made it aboard and walked up to say hi. Having a full day ahead of her, she set off to sleep for a couple of hours before meeting her parents in Juneau. Meanwhile, I sat down to celebrate a huge milestone. Sure, I’d wanted to make it to Alaska. That’s why arriving in Chicken was such a big deal. But after breaking down in Chicken, my next big milestone was to make it back to the lower 48. Making it to Alaska is one thing, making it back with one’s machine intact is another. I’d made it!

I popped the cork on a bottle of bubbly and sat down on the deck to drink it. Delicious!

The ferry was a lot cooler than I’d imagined; and a lot smaller.

I was in the middle of a conversation with the Captain of a Yacht, when Liz walked up. We hung out for a couple of hours before her port of call. She was excited to spend her winter Snowboarding and Ice Climbing in Juneau rather than guiding tourists. Every Alaskan I’ve met does some really neat and extreme winter activity.

Bill from Fairbanks spends part of his winter trapping. That entails drilling though a couple of feet of ice in temperatures ranging from minus 20 to minus 50. Needless to say, one doesn’t just drill in the back yard. Going to the “spot” is a journey in and of itself. Trapping is a big deal in Alaska. There is a lot of work that goes into getting a single pelt. I’ve seen pelts from different species of fox, from beaver, and from animals that I can’t recall. They are all beautiful and, with proper care, will last a lifetime.

 

 

 

 

Back to the Yacht Captain. A Brit, who hadn’t lived in England in many years, spends his time as the Captain of big boats in the British Virgin Islands. For many years, he was the Captain for the Rockefellers’. His stories about the family and their generosity were really inspiring. A sport fisherman from Sitka was also part of the conversation. Typically, Alaskan fisherman are the experts when it comes to boating and navigation. However, in this conversation, it was clear that the British fellow was the best seaman of the bunch. He’d seen tides and weather that are unique the world over.

Later, I met Matt. Matt just finished his second summer as a fisherman. He was the sole crew member on a Salmon boat. Out for two months, the work had been long, but rewarding. As we passed by, he pointed out Fox Point and told me of the fishery nearby. Above, Matt and I are photographed with Fox Point in the background.

 

My tent held up well in the fierce winds. The bungee cords kept the tarp in place, and my 100+ pounds of gear kept the tent in place. Judy, who was emigrating from England to Canada, used Duct tape to keep her tent in place. She'd just spent the last month riding her bicycle around Alaska. Amazing.

The ferry moved much more quickly that I'd anticipated. At 25 knots, we were traveling at about 20 mph. The diesel engines chugged along, creating a constant and predictable wake.

Being on the ferry is really quite peaceful. Having adequate cold-weather gear made it possible for me to spend the entire time aboard outside.

The stunning views were well worthwhile even in the rain. When it was clear and tranquil, the views were equally as majestic.

The float planes zoomed right past our boat. As we pulled into Ketchican, plane after plane flew by, below eye level, to beat the ferry into the harbor. It was really cool.

Hey look - It's the Ferry that I'd originally been booked on before it broke down. Thanks to it, I'd spent three weeks in Alaska.

The Purser had just announced that the stop in port had been extended to five hours. More than enough time for me to walk the 2.5 miles into town to explore the area. My watch band had broken the night before, so I set off to find a jewelry store.

 

 

 

Oh to have flown in Talkeetna! Oh well, I still had an amazing time there.

After leaving the jewelry store with a newly-repaired watch, I walked by a furrier and had to stop in. At Bill's in Fairbanks, at various restaurants and bars, and at National Parks, I'd seen quite a collection of pelts, but never a fur. (Not in Alaska)

This place had a collection of Men's Vests. I love vests. This one is made from Muskrat. The blacks, browns, and tans are really cool, though I'm not entirely convinced that anyone reading this will actually agree with me. Oh well. I've been wearing vests long before they came back in fashion. My prediction, in ten years, men in Muskrat vests will be all the rage.

The sales lady really thought I might buy it. Hmmmm a replacement Goldwing or a Muskrat vest? Think I'll hold on to my pennies for trip home.

 

 

 

 

 

On the walk back toward the ferry terminal, I saw this. The picture doesn't capture the state of dilapidation to which this building had succumb. Interesting placement for this particular billboard.

I continued down the street when I began passing the docks where the float planes sat tethered.

What the heck - I started inquiring about flights and the next thing I knew, Scott pointed me to the co-pilots seat as we set off for Annette Island. This wasn't a sightseeing trip.

 

 

 

 

 

The cruise ship had just boarded and the tourist-related business had all closed. This was an airline that catered to locals and flew natives to the reservation; a ten minute flight.

 

 

I shot many of the pictures with no zoom. In order to add perspective to the picture, I made sure to capture a bit of the plane too. So if you can see the plane in a picture, then the view on your computer screen is as close of a representation as possible to the view I had from the plane.

 

 

 

 

 

After the four passengers debarked, Scott taxied away from the dock and then killed the motor so it was quiet enough to talk. He asked about my trip and enquired about the Wing and how it held up in Alaska. He told me all about the plane and his history as an Alaskan float pilot. The he fired it up and we took off in a direction much different than the one we took to the island.

"Was I getting a scenic ride home?" I eagerly thought.

Wow - the plane, when empty, was a real hotrod. The years I spent at GTE were really cool for a number of reasons, one of which was the frequent use of the company's Cessna Citations. The pilots who flew the seven-passenger jet, told me off-the-record, that one of their perks was that no one questioned their fuel costs. That meant that after the corporate brass reached their destination, the pilots were free to "fly it like a Lamborghini."

Scott had a similar flying style and we flew right over trees, through mountain passes, banked hard around natural obstacles and then landed on a tiny mountain pond for a photo op. This trip wasn't free, but he made sure that I left grinnin' without a care as to the cost.

It was really an added bonus to get to take off and land an extra time. Landing on the pond in the middle of the mountains with nothing visible but water, mountains and the plane was really cool.

Check out my orange tent. It's clearly visible there on the top deck. My bike is parked on the bottom deck, just behind those giant open doors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So long Scott. It was a great flight. I've wanted to fly in a float plane in Alaska since I was a kid. Taking the ferry and flying were two things I really wanted to do while in Alaska and I got to fly at my last stop in Alaska before crossing into B.C.

It was as cool as I'd imagined. I paid for 25 minutes and flew for over 50. Nice!

Walking back to the ferry with only seconds to spare, I saw the Bar Harbor restaurant. In mid-May, I had stopped at the Bar Harbor restaurant in Bar Harbor Maine. From Maine to Alaska, what a ride!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next:  34  -  The Ferry from BC to the Lower 48