Super convenient town. Moored on an empty dock and boats filled in throughout the day. Everything is within a 30 second walk of one another on shore, so we did a small reprovisioning trip at their little grocery store, filled up our propane tanks at their hardware store, did two loads of laundry, topped up our tanks, and cleaned the boat in a only few hours.

Nice, quiet cove along BC’s coast. Another sailboat we’ve yet to see along the inside passage anchored nearby. We were hopeful to see the northern lights projected in our area, but it was foggy.

Nothing spectacular about this anchorage. We try to limit our motoring to 4-5 hrs or ~20 nm per day. Spent the day on the computer writing emails, trying to sort out the haul out in Port Townsend, and looking for a place to live while Ciao Bella gets worked on 🛠️

Motored to Bottleneck during the ebb tide and anchored just after sunset. The head of the cove was packed with boats, but we weren’t going to find another place in the dark, so we anchored near the mouth of the cove and left early in the morning for a new place. Although we only saw the anchorage during the sliver of light that remains after the sun sets, the walls were blanketed with green foliage and the cove had a faint sulphur smell.

We left Butedale with the ebb tide for K’ootz/Khutze Conservancy and anchored near the estuary at the head of the inlet. Dropped our Rocna in approximately 50’ beneath a cascading waterfall that looked like a painting. Looking inland, the valley opened to a wildflower-painted estuary framed by snowcapped peaks. This part of the Great Bear Rainforest, on Princess Royal Island, is home to the spirit bear, sea wolves, harbor seals, bald eagles, and more. It’s a popular anchorage, and we’ve seen more boats here than anywhere along the Inside Passage so far. We spent the afternoon relaxing and cleaning our fuel injectors.

Sailed (for the first time in forever!!!) around Gribbell Island to Bishop Bay Hot Springs and…just wow. The landscape is breathtaking. It seems like Misty Fjords was the gateway into some of the most epic mountainscapes we’ve ever seen. We entered Bishop Bay alongside a pod of humpback whales, their surfacing breaths echoing against granite walls, and later watched them from the warmth of the hot springs. The afternoon was ethereal. At the springs, we added a small artifact of our own (🐚🤫) to the collection left by fellow cruisers, a quiet gesture of belonging to the unseen fellowship that threads through places like this. Dropped anchor in approx. 80’ and stern tied to shore for the first time. Ciao Bella sat around 45’ at high tide, and 25’ at a +5’ low tide. Not 10’ from our stern, the shore quickly shoaled to 5’ or less. Definitely a little precarious, but this place is worth it.

Quick stop to fill up gas ⛽️ for the dink at Hartley Bay, a First Nations community. Really nice day today.

We left a windy Kumealon and motored down a windier Grenville Channel, with the breeze building to 25 knots by the time we turned into Klewnuggit Inlet. We dropped the hook in the long eastern arm where it was completely still. You’d never guess how wild it was just outside. The next morning we woke to dense fog and infinite gnats. Once the fog lifted, most of them did too (though Porter was happy to eat the ones that stuck around🤮). The mud here has a sulfur smell, and we read that there’s outgassing in the area, so the area must be volcanic.

We left Prince Rupert in dense fog that remained until Kelp Passage. The anchorage there was poor, with wind and fetch blowing it out, so we carried on down Grenville Channel, better known as The Ditch. The channel felt like a highway, and by the time we pulled into Kumealon Cove, it had the air of a truck stop. A very beautiful truck stop, to be fair, but the anchorage itself leaves something to be desired. Wind is gusting 20+ knots and the cove is not nearly as protected as the chart suggests. The inner anchorages in Kumealon Inlet demand stern ties or are prone to williwaws, so instead we are giving this outer cove a try for the night. Truthfully, there have not been many solid options between Prince Rupert and here, so we’ll take what we can get.

We left Punchbowl Cove in Misty Fjords National Monument and made our way toward Foggy Bay, our final stop in Southeast Alaska. The original plan was to break up the trip with two or three more anchorages, but with this weekend’s forecast looking immaculate for a Dixon Entrance crossing to Prince Rupert, British Columbia, we decided to send it straight to Foggy Bay. We saw some type of porpoise (Dall’s?) and humpback whales in Revillagigedo Channel en route to Foggy Bay. Staged at the edge of Dixon Entrance, Foggy Bay greeted us with complete stillness. The only sounds were our wake lapping against the shore as we entered the protected bay and the soft taps of birds’ wings skimming the water’s surface. As we settled in for the night, we felt deeply grateful for our time in the southern portion of Southeast Alaska. It’s hard to believe we only glimpsed a fraction of this vast and wild place.

We arrived in Punchbowl Cove in Misty Fjords National Monument and tied to the lone mooring ball beneath sheer granite cliffs. For the second fjord in a row, we’d been lucky to claim the only one, and have the entire fjord to ourselves. The landscape is unbelievable. Waterfalls spilled down the mountainsides as we made our way in, and, much like in Walker Cove, we were dwarfed by the presence of the mountains. It felt like we entered a sanctuary carved by giants, untouched by the outside world. This is a place that makes you want to lower your voice, as though speaking too loudly might wake the mountains from their long watch. Ciao Bella felt like a toy set against the landscape. The fjord drops off steeply at the edges, but around the mooring ball the shoreline softens into tidal flats. At the head of the cove, a waterfall and river are fed by a lake high above in the mountains. Upon arrival, seaplanes and tour boats filled the cove with noise, and their wakes reverberated against the granite walls long after they left. After the quiet of Walker Cove, I can understand why Navionics users prefer Walker. However, by evening, the water was calm and the cove was quiet again. The noise was enough to keep the bears away, however, as we didn’t see any while we were here. This place is without a doubt in my top three anchorages in south-SEAK.

Yesterday’s motor through the Behm Canal felt like crossing into a new world. The water shifted suddenly from murky jade to glacial blue at a sharp convergence zone. We passed three deadheads (waterlogged trunks lurking just beneath the surface) while soaking in as much sunlight as we could after days of rain. The landscape changed quickly. The granite mountains grew steeper, the forest thicker, and it became clear we had entered true fjordland. If we had been in bear country before, this must be their kingdom. Walker Cove left us speechless. Fellow cruisers spoke of this place with reverence, and Navionics calls it one of the most beautiful anchorages in Southeast Alaska, but no description prepared us for its vastness. Sheer granite walls closed around us, draped in green, with water tumbling down in silver ribbons everywhere we looked. It’s a place that dwarfs you. We snagged the only mooring ball in the fjord and stood in the cockpit for a long time, just taking it all in, jaws quite literally hanging open. No photograph could ever capture it. Somehow, we had the entire place to ourselves. The fjord held us in solitude. We spent the afternoon exploring by dinghy, nosing up to waterfalls, chasing birds and seals, tracing the shoreline. We should have sent the drone up, because today the rain returned in full force, drumming down in white sheets. For now, we’re cashing in on our luck at snagging the only mooring ball and staying another night. Crossing our fingers the skies clear for a moment in the next 24 hours 🤞🏽

Ciao Bella tucked nicely into Fitzgibbon Cove on the NE corner of Behm Canal. After over 72 hours of relentless rain, the skies finally cleared and we sent the drone up for the first time in a long time. Tannin paints the water a rusty brown, and the cove is framed by steep cliffs. A handful of rivers and small waterfalls feed into the cove, and their sound carries softly throughout the cove. We’re really looking forward to the next few days exploring Misty Fjords National Monument.

Motored across Clarence Strait and made it to Ketchikan. This is where Ciao Bella will stay until mid-Aug. We’ll have the weekend to explore the town and then we’re off to England for a week for our best friends wedding 🍻🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Update 8/17/25: Happy to be out of Ketchikan. It’s a great place to stop for a night or two, but the influx of tourists on cruise ships really make this charming town not so charming. We were initially placed in Bar Harbor North which was conveniently next door to a marine shop and grocery store. We were moved into Thomas Harbor while in England, which was inconveniently far away from everything. It was cool to be in the middle of town, but Bar harbor was just more convenient. Because it’s such a tourist town, everything was priced accordingly.

Binge watched LOTR and made a fire on the beach. Came across some chicken of the woods (!!!) and made hot honey, garlic, and sea salt fritters. So good. Still haven’t caught any crab big enough to keep, too bad!

Departed Petersburg to traverse the Wrangell Narrows. We buddy boated with our new cruising friend Theo on SV Eelyos, a Spindrift 43. He took the lead and we cautiously followed. Wrangell Narrows is fed by Frederick Sound in the north and Sumner Strait in the south, so the currents are opposite at either end. This means, in the middle of the channel, the current directions switch, so you need to time your crossing so that the currents are favorable across the entire channel. We crossed Sumner Strait for Red Bay on the north side of Prince of Wales Island and experienced interesting effects from the strong currents, especially entering Red Bay. The bay has a super narrow and shallow opening, but inside is your classic Alaskan anchorage. We saw lots of deer, otters, birds, and seals. Had a late dinner with our new cruising friend and talked story about cruising AK and BC!

Long and cold day of motoring in Frederick Sound, north of Kupreanof Island. Dave took on the navigational role and I took on the keep-us-happy-and-fed role. We saw a large pod of humpback whales moving fast…like, really fast. For a second, I thought that I caught a glimpse of a tall, sharp dorsal fin slicing through the water behind them. If it was a killer whale behind them, that would explain the pod’s speed though the water. The energy in the water was super intense, and the pod remained thrashing and charging forward on the surface for at least 10, minutes. It looked like a stampede. We’ve never seen anything like it! Portage Bay was just a quick stopover before Petersburg. We anchored close to the mouth of the bay, which looked like a classic Alaskan anchorage. Heard howling in the distance around sunset! 🐺⁉️