#23 ALASKA ADVENTURES

M/V Europa

56’14” N

131’57” W

8/10/01

18:21 ship time (GMT-9)

The first visit to the engine room on this ship brought memories of the Knorr.  Specifically, I remembered the 22 folks who were on board to service the ship and science crew.  My first

thought was that I would be half of all the resources available to perform the same functions.  The engine room was a maze of piping, wiring, pumps, batteries, valves, seacocks, diesels, primary engine, 20kW generator, 8kW generator, electric panels, 12v, 120v & 240v systems, water desalination system, fresh cold/hot water system, sea water sys, LP gas,  hydraulic systems for steering, transmission, throttle linkage and stabilizing wings and more in the size of a large 4’ tall closet. Combine that with a wide assortment of electronic gear for communication, navigation, and ship operation & monitoring in the pilothouse and you have a recipe for confusion.  A bit overwhelming, especially when I began running some common failure scenarios through my mind, such as fuel strainers being clogged due to dirt in tanks being stirred up by rough weather.  I knew that one would have to change the filters and bleed the lines to the injectors but where to start?  The first week was a high learning curve with much time spent reading manuals as well as staring at things till they made sense.  DH was having a charging issue and was having to run the 20kW generator a few hours/day to charge up the batteries.  This didn’t seem right considering that we were not getting any charge off our main engine.  

A few days into the cruise, we accidentally tangled a line in our prop.  We were towing the dingy at the time and had enough presence of mind to pull it up snug when we arrived in our anchorage cove because you back down on the anchor to set it.  Unbeknownst to us, a spare line had bounced out of the dingy and was being dragged in the water. DH shut down the engine immediately upon hearing the added torque.  After securing the boat at anchor, we spent an hour talking to each other about diving under and freeing the line, trying to work ourselves up to the task. Finally, I dove into the coldest water I’ve ever been in, and for two breaths, began unwinding the line.  We alternated this performance and then diving into the 110 deg engine room to shiver.  Finally, a neighboring yacht dinghied over to check out the action, and then offered a wet suit.  (This is what KA had been suggesting all along, but ya know how guys will be guys!)  1/2hr later, the whole shebang was history and we were drinking wine with our new friends.  He was quite a help in troubleshooting our charging problem, and DA & DH spent the next day in the engine room cutting wires, and trying to piece things back together.  Successfully fixing this issue allowed us to forego the generator except when we need to use the washer and dryer!  To say the least, cruising is not an entirely relaxing and kickback event.  

Navigation, maintenance, cooking, route planning all take quite a bit of time.  It can take an entire hour from when we first enter a bay to get anchored and shutdown.  The first week, the beautiful steward, KA, was constantly cooking and dishing delectable from the galley.  Her absence is sorely missed now that we must be self supporting.  With a huge investment and our lives at stake, our attention and actions always address the boat’s needs first.

Besides our arrival day in Desolation Sound, we’ve endured day after day of grey, cold, and rain. Unfortunately, KA & Teale left prior to our arrival into Alaska and the return of bright blue skies.  Dave and Dave have settled into a comfortable routine of managing the boat, preparing delectable dishes, listening to great music all within the most glorious, wild and exotic scenery one can imagine.  










Today we dinghied for 20 minutes to an adjacent bay loaded with salmon. The creek leads to an upper lake and passes through an extensive tidal mudflats prior to hitting several short falls.  This is the Anan Bear Reserve.  A short 1 mile hike up a trail loaded with scat brings one to a platform built overlooking one of the falls.  A blind has also been built right down 10’ off the water.  The flats were a cacophony of squawks, cries, and screams of hundreds of gulls, ravens and eagles.  The mouth of the creek is a turmoil of seals and salmon, all in a frenzy.

If the salmon make it through the initial onslaught, they then meet the wall of water and mightily struggle up and over rapids and eddies.  Many, in their blind struggle, end piled in the rocks in mounds of rotting fish flesh.  Not the final barrier to their efforts, but the reason of our visit is the largest carnivore in the hood, the bears.  Black bears and Brown bears clog the narrow channels of the creek, casually wading among the frothing salmon, biting one after another, then taking the third choice to the bank to rip the head off, and tear into the belly and lick up the roe.  Here is a nice short clip the scene.  Half eaten carcasses line the banks and sit among the mounds of rotting stinking bodies.  The bears wander among the mayhem in a glorious gluttonous orgy of noshing.  We left with a grimace etched on our face and many furtive looks about as we hiked back to the boat.  The running joke is that one needs not out run the bear, just your hiking partner.

Other high points have been the runs with the porpoises at our bow.  Clear water, early strong sun at our backs, we watch the curvaceous bodies playfully bop about the pressure wave from our bow.  They keep such steady speeds, we can study their body markings, noting scratches, feathery color variations, the lip’s movement as they open and blow from their blowholes.  Twisting, turning spinning around themselves, the essence of playfulness. 

Today, while fishing along a small island a pack of 15-20 harbor seals bailed from the rocks to reappear in quizzical and comical groups of 5-6 surrounding our skiff. Their dog like manners instantly endeared them to us, but unfortunately, they did not head our requests to round up the fish to our hooks. 

The absence of people, the absolute solitude in a large untouched bay, the quite of only our sounds, Taj on the stereo, clinks of wine glasses and comfortable dinner conversations over the grilled salmon, these things continue to blow our minds as we grok where we are.

Steady warm 55deg rain patters softly on fiberglass and seawater as the kayaks glide noiselessly through galaxies of thousands of small white jellyfish.  The placid waters, a window to a world below.  Suddenly, ahead, a massive orange feathery blob appears, a sea blubber (yet another jellyfish form) drifts by with yards of stringy tentacles dragged out behind on the current. An eagle launches from it’s perch and into the fog to swoop home to the nest as the last of the day’s light fades, leaving us in the twilight with Europa’s anchor light reflected in the perfect rain spattered surface.  The clouds fall to enclose us in a dense quiet.

From the Alaskan wilds,  David.