Winter Solstice Eve

Bryant announced over morning coffee that today we weren't going to work at all. Who was I to argue with that request . . . after all it is Winter Solstice Eve, the 2nd shortest day of the year and that seemed like as good of a reason as any to declare a much needed play day for us. With an official sunrise of 10:14 a.m., there was no reason not to brew a second pot of coffee and linger through breakfast. Our big adventure for the day was a snowmachine ride out the backdoor, down by the Knik River and then up a nearby ridge to about 2,000 feet. We set our departure time for the crack of noon, which ironically has become our summer default departure time with the sailboat. The only difference is that now we have about 3 1/2 hours of daylight to enjoy the outdoors instead of the 11 1/2 hours we receive on the eve of summer solstice.

Yesterday, while I was finishing up my last day of school for the year, Bryant worked on snowmachines. Seeing as I could now start the machine, I figured something he did worked. We headed out on a trail in our backyard, crossed the highway, and road down to the mostly frozen Knik River. While cruising on the river bottom, we spotted a bull moose, which of course is nowhere to be seen during moose season. As Bryant stopped to take a picture of the bull moose, two other young moose came running out from the scrubby trees and joined the bull moose. Eventually they all ran off into the woods, and we continued on our ride.

The trail meanders by the river bottom for about 3 miles, crosses the highway again and heads up into the mountains. It isn't long before the trail works its way out of the cottonwoods and birch and into the alders each section a little steeper pitch than the one before. Just as I was beginning to wonder if the old Arctic Cat 440 Panther had the power to complete the climb, I reached our usual stopping spot on a clearing at the top of a knoll.

My plan was to stop, enjoy the views, drink a cup of coffee, and eat a couple of cookies. Bryant continued climbing up to the next knoll, and then turned back around to join me on the usual stopping spot. After conversing about the trail conditions and the potential for a good picture looking down on this spot, I decided I could handle it and took off. On route, I lost track of where I was suppose to turn around, and ended a little further up trail that I was suppose to be. Luckily, I saw another snowmachine coming down and pulled off to the side to let them by. They kindly warned me of some upcoming difficult turns on a steep section and also asked if there was anyone following me. I said, "No, my husband is down there waiting, but you might want to tell him to join me up here." I had a feeling that once I finished snapping some pictures I would need a little assistance getting my machine turned around. He was right . . . . our "usual stopping spot" looked cool from up there (He's the black dot on the clearing in the middle of the photo.)
As it turned out, Bryant did come to my rescue, but not before we dug him out first. When he passed me to find a spot to turn around, he became stuck. So I hiked up the hill, we freed his machine, and then he helped spin me around. It is always easier having two people pull on snowmachines. This experience reminded us that we should have brought our shovel, and trail machines have limitations.
After drinking our coffee and eating a couple of cookies on our usual stopping spot, we descended while the setting sun cast shadows on the mountains. We finished the afternoon off with a nice hot tub and dinner at a local restaurant. It felt good to play outside and just hang out together. Sitting here typing on my Blog, Bryant walked by and suggested we declare Winter Solstice a day of relaxation as well. Who am I to argue . . . .

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/SolsticeEveRide

Pretty + Cold = Pretty Cold

With a full moon at night and a blue sky all day, everytime I go outside I can't help but say to myself, "It sure is pretty . . .," then pausing awhile I add, " . . and cold, too." If I'm dressed right, it's really not that cold but more often, I'm not. The gloves, hat, coat, and boots remain in the entryway while I zip in and out of the house to do whatever needs done, getting wood, starting a vehicle, or running to an outbuilding to grab something, and halfway through the little errand, I'm cold.

One morning this week, Wyatt complained on the way to the bus stop about why he is the only one who has to walk and everyone else in the neighborhood gets to ride in a nice warm car. Maybe its my parents rubbing off on me, but instead of sympathy he received "Lecture 101" about the stupidity and laziness of warming up a car for a 1/2 mile walk. Because we hadn't quite made it to the bus stop with the first lecture, he received "Lecture 102" about the importance of facing the elements, toughing it out, and learning the world isn't always a warm and cozy place. And the easiest place for him to learn that lesson is in 7th grade on the way to the bus stop in the pitch dark, when the temperature is hovering around -5. I doubt that he believed or even listened to a breath of my insightful wisdom, but I'm guessing he learned not to ask the question again for at least another year.

Friday . . . .

. . . . looks better than I imagined . Driving home from the neighbor's Thanksgiving dinner last night in the freezing rain, I dreaded what we'd wake up to, but it's not too bad outside. The roads will be manageable. Wyatt celebrates his 13th birthday this weekend, so I'll be running around, collecting kids, having them burn energy at the swimming pool, and then gleefully bringing them home the next morning.

Because Bryant is out of state for two weeks enjoying the sunny southwest, the cabin project has come to a complete halt. The timing turned out to be perfect, because that has freed up some time to work on another side project.

About a month ago, Gus asked about ways to earn money. Well, there aren't many entrepreneurial opportunities for a 10 year old who lives 15 miles from town, so at first I didn't have any solutions. Then, I remembered the Annual Butte Elementary Christmas Bazaar was a few weeks away, and the idea of tie dye shirts started taking hold.

As part of an Africa Unit, the 2nd grade class makes tie dye shirts. Although I didn't organize this for our three 2nd grade classes, I worked with my class swirling shirts and preparing them for the soda ash soak. Then I watched their excitement while slopping in dye and wearing their shirts the following Monday. Between this experience and my sister and I's decision to tie dye this coming summer with all of our kids and the nieces and nephews, I opted to invest in tie dying materials and have a booth at the bazaar. Hopefully, Gus is on the road to potentially earning some money. For the past week, the tie dye obsession has taken hold. The learning curve has been quite steep, but I think I'm figuring out what works. Whether it will pay off, who knows, but if nothing else, we have a stockpile of gifts to give away!

Another 1/4" and I'll have it!

It is not everyday that a carpenter uses a chainsaw to put in windows, but if you have a tool and it will work, sometimes you just need to go for it.
Our box now has windows and insulation. About two months ago, Bryant looked on Craigslist and found these windows, all three of them, for $25.00. "What is one man's junk, is another's treasure," as the saying goes. Next spring, we'll need to decided on the real color scheme. The red as you guessed came with the windows and the tan on the smart board paneling is actually only primer, so this job continues even after we think we're done. Overall, it felt pretty good to take this step. At times progress seems to move at a snail's pace. Then suddenly we actually can see some results and that feels pretty good.

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/Shabin

Change of Seasons

Clear and Cold

These feather like snow crystals are called hoar frost. The clear cold weather that we've had for the last three weeks creates the perfect environment for hoar frost to accumulate. October turned out to be the 8th coldest on record. We kept saying that the Knik River looked like it does in January, and our nights were regularly 10-15 degrees, and daytime temperatures weren't much over 20 degrees. Eventually, it will warm up, snow some more and then rain. In the 16 years that I've lived in Southcentral Alaska, there was only one winter that the thermometer stayed below 32 degrees from November to March.

The cabin is continuing to move along, and at times it feels like a snail's pace. Probably more so for Bryant than I. It seems like every piece of this project takes twice as long. On Saturday, we finished putting up the siding, and on Sunday, Bryant wired it. I put in two short days, and managed to stay caught up with house chores. Gus came out with me on Saturday and entertained one of our friend's 5 year old, but he opted to stay home on Sunday, as Wyatt was back from his birthday party.

For more cabin pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/Shabin

It's Not Going Away!

It means the snow. For two weeks, I kept thinking . . ."it will melt. There is always snow on the ground before Halloween, but it melts." Considering that this past summer was the coldest in decades, why should I be surprised by the way fall is turning into winter way too fast. But I am and I keep wishing. Underneath that snow, piles of leaves need to be dispose of, a rake needs to be found, and a wood pile needed to be covered with a tarp before it became covered in 6 inches of snow. Obviously, mother nature's plans and my schedule aren't the same.

I stayed home from the property this weekend to catch up with house chores and do some kid activities with the boys. As I write, Bryant is busy working on the inside support beam. Last weekend, we had beautiful clear and cold weather, and it was perfect for finishing up the roof. I learned how to tar paper and lay shingles and why real roofers would want to wear knee protection of some sort. By Sunday, I felt like I had permanent rock indents embedded in my knees from kneeling. Overall, we're feeling pretty good about our progress, and how the shabin is shaping up.

Roof's On

Well, the snow won the race, but I think we came in a pretty close second. Technically, the roof isn't completely finished because the shingles aren't on, but we are getting closer. And yes, there will be windows, which will be cut out when we bring the windows from the house to the property. We had some extra man power come in on Sunday afternoon to help out with the siding a haul a few spruce poles from the woods.

For more pictures click on: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/Shabin

Which comes first the roof or the snow?

These last three days have been the nicest days we've seen since Labor Day. And boy, did we do our best to take advantage of the clear weather. Notice near the entryway that there are decorative support beams made from spruce poles. I'd like to say it was because we attempted to add a bit of class to the shabin, but really we were just being cheap about not wanting to buy to more conventional lumber than necessary.

The big question is whether or not the roof will be on before the first snow hits the ground. Our initial goal was to have the foundation in before snowfall, so by all accounts we are way ahead of schedule. Snowmachine season doesn't start until at least November, when the swamps freeze up. Even if there are a few inches of rain, we have a little bit of time.

For more pictures click on: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/Shabin

Making Progress

At 1:00 on Sunday afternoon, Bryant and I loaded up the truck and headed for the property. Between a gas and lumber yard stop, building didn't begin until 3:00 p.m., which was around the same time that the rain ended. A few hours later, we were feeling pretty good about what we accomplished. I'm learning through this process and I'm only the helpful assistant.


Next weekend, we plan to spend the weekend building, which is easier to commit to seeing as the boat is now in our backyard. Bryant drove down to Whittier on Friday night, derigged, and came home on Saturday. The parking lot attendant in Whittier said it has been raining steady and Bryant said there was even algae growing in the parking lot puddles. I think it is a good time to switch gears.

Building a Shabin

When Bryant told a friend of ours he planned on building a structure that is a cross between a shack and a cabin on our property near Big Lake, she off-handedly referred to it as a shabin. Now, each time we cut a few corners in the construction phase, we plan to remind ourselves that we are building a shabin.

Bryant brought a load of gravel out on Friday, laid out the corners, and leveled out the ground for the foundation. On Saturday, Bryant loaded the truck with power tools, the compressor, the generator, wood, and camping gear, while I loaded the Kia with boys, mine plus two other brothers. I wondered exactly how helpful I was actually going to be to Bryant. As it turned out, the boys were busy being boys and other than some sibling squabbles, they entertained themselves quite well. Not only was I able to set up camp and cook a few meals, I dug out the gray water system, assisted in the foundation preparation, and hauled and held boards in place for the floor joist. Most of this was done on Sunday, because after getting everything out to the property, the generator wouldn't stay running because it was low on oil. And of course, we didn't have oil. I drove back 15 minutes to the town of Big Lake to get oil. Right after I returned. Bryant realized that he needed something different for the foundation and he had to drive back to Wasilla to Lowes. Dark eventually set in, and we settled in to enjoy a meal and the campfire.

Bryant didn't waste anytime on Sunday morning and of course, I felt obliged to follow him out of bed at 7:10. By the time I had the coffee made, it was drizzling, which didn't sit too well with either of us. But as we all know, shabins don't build themselves, so we just dove in and completed the foundation, floor joist, and the floor itself, and during much of the day, the rain actually stopped. At some point, the boys woke up, ate breakfast and lunch, had mudball wars, played bigfoot, wrestled in the tent, burnt themselves with fire, and karate chopped half the 26 acres down; well maybe it was just the immediate 1/2 acre surrounding us. When it came time to pack it all up and head home, everyone was feeling ready to call it a day.

While building, Bryant and I talked again about how we are the first pioneers of this land, the only ones who have ever disturbed the soil. Until we obtained the land, only government entities owned the land and it remained undeveloped, other than the road that provides access through the right hand corner. We purchased the land from the Mat-Su Borough in 2004. The Mat-Su Borough had the land transferred to them when Alaska became a state in 1959, and the U.S. government received title to this land when Alaska was purchased from Russia in 1867. So given that we are the first set of riff, raff to settle in, I guess it is alright to build a shabin.

Welcome to Butte, AK!

This is Butte taken from on top of "The Butte." Our house is cut off, but would be located on the right side mid-way up the picture. Technically, our community is called South Knik River, but both us and Butte have Palmer, AK postal addresses.

Each Wednesday, Wyatt, Gus, and I take turns picking an activity to do in the evening and everyone else has to do it. I picked hiking "the Butte," as everyone calls it. The elevation gain is about 800 feet and it can be done in about 2 hours, including the 10 minutes of car time travel. The kids half-heartedly joined in on my plan, but once on top discovered how much fun it is playing in the strong wind.

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/TheButte

Knik River - Fall Scenery

I couldn't resist stopping by the Knik River Public Use Area on the way home from work and snap a few photos.

For more fall photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/KnikRiverFallScenery

Things That Turn Red Overnight

For 3 months, us Alaskans watch in amazement as our world turns green. Because somewhere in the previous nine months of rain and snow, we forgot that the color green existed in the outside world. By mid-June, the leaves have reached their full summer bloom and the gaps between the neighbor's house and your own have finally filled in with green foliage, instead of the usual peak-a-boo views of blue tarps and junk cars. Even the stubborn brown grass from the long winter begins to show life by the end of June. Throughout July and August, the understory vegetation of willow, alder, devils club, cow parsnip, ferns, and a multitude of grasses and flowers seem to grow by inches each day. Trails and paths, which were walked on a week earlier, are now narrow green winding corridors.

Then suddenly it happens . . . . I am snapping pictures of "things that turn red overnight" . . . and I know the green season is gone.
















For more fall photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/FallPictures

Good Tuesday Morning . . . .

I raced back from the bus stop this morning so I could get this picture, which wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't uphill both ways, snowing, and only cardboard soles on my feet.

We Caught Sunshine!

And boy did we bask in it!

Bryant picked the boys and I up from Whittier dock on Friday evening after work. He is on the every other Friday off schedule, so he and his buddy took the boat out on Thursday night. In the boat harbor, I gave his buddy the car keys. He drove to Anchorage and we boarded the boat. First on our agenda was pulling the shrimp pots. Bryant pulled them in the morning and rebaited them for a day long soak. We figured if we pulled them tonight, we'd get in another overnight tonight, totaling three for this trip. The sun doesn't setting until 9:30 ish and being a clear night, we did have a little time to set up anchor before dark.

We anchored in Shotgun Cove Friday evening. It is the closest anchorage to Whittier. There were probably 6 or 7 other boats anchored in this area as well that evening. Under a star filled, moonless night, we discussed the latest news of Sarah Palin. Hard to imagine the same women, who walked in flip flops and shorts in the 2006 Colonial Days parade in Palmer, AK campaigning for governor, was now the GOP nominee for vice president. I know she lacks experience in D.C., but I've seen the way she connects with people and that means something to the everyday people who go to the polls. I think in some ways it matters more than the people who play games to get ahead. McCain looked for her. I also have a lot of respect for the fact that she won the republican ticket without the support of the state's republican party, who are quite the corrupt bunch, excluding Palin of course.

On Saturday, we awoke to beautiful blue skies. After a cup of coffee, Bryant and I went dingying around Shotgun Cove. The pink salmon were just swarming around this fresh water stream. The bears enjoyed a few meals of salmon as well. I could see where there was one or two bites taken out of a salmon. It looked like they wanted to say, "I'm full," but then decided that they couldn't hold back and tried another bite only to waste the remaining salmon. I even found salmon heads and guts in the woods when I was picking berries that weren't left behind by the careless fisherman. Of course, I quickly called for Ollie, our dog, to come and explore the woods with me. She usually does smell bears, then barks and hopefully succeeds in scaring them away.

We spent the first half of the day lazing around Shotgun Cove. Around 1:00, we motored out of Passage Canal to Port Wells. Huge mountains, hanging glaciers, and blue sky . . . . there was nothing not to like. We ended up trolling down by Granite Bay State Park, only this time we had the pleasure of seeing it in the sunshine, unlike the other 2 weekends when we spent the night down this way. The fish didn't seem to like the sunshine, as they refused to bite. But we really didn't care too much, as we were busy catching the rare rays that make their way into Prince William Sound.

Concerned about gas and time, we decided to head back toward Whittier. There was a small craft advisory for Sunday, so we opted to pack it up Saturday evening while the going was good. As we made our way past Ester Island and in front of Pigot Bay a steady breeze from the east caught our attention. We decided to raise our sails. For about 5 miles, we sailed on a broad reach at about 4 miles/hour. As we started to head back into Passage Canal, we lost our wind. After dropping sails, we motored to our shrimp pots. We didn't break any shrimping records, but caught a couple of meals worth.

The Whittier boat harbor was a mad house. On low tide, one of the launching sites is dry so all the boats are lined up in the water near the launch waiting to takeout. At a boat launch with parking only yards away this doesn't happen, but in Whittier, the main parking lot is 1/2 mile away. Inevitably there ends up being a lot of people holding boat lines on the dock waiting for their runner to return with the truck and trailer, while the rest of the boat traffic is idling in the harbor. There is nothing about Whittier that is normal, so none of this should surprise me, but it does. To add to the boat harbor madness, the Whittier tunnel is only one way. Every hour there is a 15 minute time block of opportunity to get through the tunnel from Whittier back to the main road toward Anchorage. So as we are busy flushing the motor, cleaning up our mess, parking the sailboat, and packing the car, the question weighing on the back of our mind and adding stress is always, "How many more minutes do we have?"

Then the question becomes, why do we come back? After all Whittier is the closest ocean boating port to our house and well, every once in a while you catch some sunshine.

For more photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/CatchingSunshinePWS

Staying Home on Saturday Night

I have not spent a Saturday night at my house since the weekend before Memorial Day . . . . and other than my trip south for 3 weeks, all those Saturday nights were spent on the boat. Being gone on Saturday nights in nothing new to us, but usually we divide our time between boating and other weekend adventures where we are camping. This summer has definitely been more focused. This weekend we stayed home to catch up on house chores and make the annual pilgrimage to the Alaska State Fair. As usual, the fair wasn't super exciting, a lot of people dodging and overpriced food, which I did have to sample. The kids had fun. I was too cheap to buy Tracy Lawrence tickets, but I sat outside the gates and listened to his concert, while the kids waited in line for rides. In the evening, there was the best firework show I have ever seen. Three times I thought they were shooting of the grand finale and two times I was wrong. Target, who will open 2 stores up here in October, sponsored this event.

I was also able to catch up on the lawn . . . the never ending lawn. It is especially hard to keep up with it when I work during the day. The kids started school on Monday and I started the Wednesday before. Oh well, at least tomorrow I have a clean house to wake up to. I guess there is something to be said for just staying put once in awhile.

Surprises in Surprise Cove, PWS

Surprise Cove turned into a surprise weekend getaway for Bryant and I. Wyatt was invited to a friend's camp for the weekend and when Gus found out he was the "lone ranger" on the sailboat for the weekend, he quickly got on the phone and rounded up a friend where he could spend the night. Imagine that, kids preferring to hang out with friends, and then thinking they are being tortured when they are forced to come with us. The truth is that both of them are learning quite a bit more about the ocean and also spending more time reading or listening to books on CD. So in the end and as years go by, I suspect they will look back on the "sailboat days" as being quite fun, and hopefully the torture treatment contributed to their intellect.

Even though it is nice seeing the boys experience the ocean, it is also nice to have the weekend to ourselves. We decided to meet up with Bryant's co-worker and his wife in Surprise Cove State Marine Park about 12 miles out of Whittier. They bought the same boat as us after seeing ours last fall. We left early Saturday morning and the day continued to brighten up. By late evening, we were all eating birthday cake in the cockpit of our boat witnessing an almost full moon rising in the horizon.

Although we tried trolling for salmon on the way out to our destination, we didn't catch any, which just meant we didn't have to clean blood and guts out of the boat. And sometimes that isn't so bad. Once we set anchor, Bryant inflated the dingy and we spent a considerable amount of time rowing around Surprise Cove jigging for rockfish and hiking on a nearby trail. Copious amounts of rain do wonders to the vegetation, and as long as it isn't raining buckets on me at the time of observation, I find myself quite impressed. Green moss coats and hangs from the spruce and hemlock trees. Skunk cabbage lines the boardwalk area through the bogs and salmonberries thrive in this moist environment, which I couldn't help but sample. They taste a little like a cross between a juicy rasberry and seedy blackberry.

I think one of the highlights of this trip had to be when it came time to pull the anchor. While Bryant is in charge of pulling shrimp pots 500 feet down, I put myself in charge of pulling anchor at 40 feet down. We often joke about the fact that people pay good money in a gym to get the exercise we get by pulling anchors. Anyway, nothing to unusual at first as I started to get the slack from the anchor line and stack it into the locker. Then, I yelled back to Bryant okay, "Okay pull us free." He gave the engine a little power to loosen the anchor from the deep mud so I could continue with my job. It wasn't long before I realized something was wrong.

Bryant came up front to help me pull. In the past, I've pulled in starfish, jellyfish, kelp, tiny rocks, and loads of mud in with our anchor line and nothing felt nearly as heavy as what we were pulling up now. I guessed it had to be a ton of kelp that we had gathered while circling around our anchor with the tide. To our astonishment and delight, we pulled up a 22 lb claw anchor and 20 feet of chain. Because of the lack of ocean grime on the anchor, we figured that sometime this summer someone hadn't tied the knot onto their chain very well and lost their anchor. Their disappointment of not having an anchor the next morning turned into our amazement of having two. Right now, we have a lighter danforth anchor and Bryant's been talking about buying a claw anchor. So imagine my statisfaction when I was able to give Bryant this unexpected birthday present from Surprise Cove.

For more photos of this trip: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/BryantSBDayPWS

Shrimp for dinner, anyone?

. . . . and feel free to eat as many as you like. Prior to this past weekend's catch, I'd have to limit how many shrimp everyone was allowed to eat at a meal. With tonight's meal, shrimp won't be the snack or the appetizer, but the main course!

On the way out of Anchorage on Friday, we bought another shrimp pot that someone was selling on Craigslist. You're allowed to have 5 pots and so far we are up to two. Along with having another pot, we placed them in a different location in deeper water. Not only did we have more shrimp/pot, but we also had bigger shrimp. We must have done something right.

Here's how shrimping works. I have the easy job of manoevering the boat to the correct spot and in this day of GPS navigation it is a very easy job. Bryant stuffs the bait of cat food and left over herring from the halibut days into the container, closes up the shrimp pots and drops them down, both are attached to the same piece of line. When the pots hit the bottom of the ocean, the line slacks off and he attaches a buoy. We leave it there and set up anchor for the night. The next day, Bryant pulls on the 500 feet of line with two pots attached. Who says we need a shrimp pot puller that fits neatly in a downrigger system and effortlessly pulls the pots from the bottom of the ocean?

As Bryant sweats profusely, we all wait anxiously on deck to see what the pots holds. As soon as the pots are on the bow of the boat, we start twisting the heads off and saving the meat in zip lock bags. The shrimp move along and can wiggle their way free, so we have to be quick. The kids play with the small crabs that find their way into the pot, and they also manage a few oohs and aahs at the size and quantity of shrimp we were able to catch this go around. I see pictures and hear of people catching a lot more than us but I suspect with a little more experience, we'll figure it out. Once all the shrimp are out of the pots, Bryant rebaits the containers for a second soak, and we are off to find a new place to explore for our second night.

So far, we haven't sailed in Prince William Sound because wind is non-existent. There are a few localized breezes that blow into our anchorage, but nothing that will get us anywhere. We figure there is plenty of time to sail, and in some ways for a our "weekend warrior" expeditions where we don't have a lot of time the motoring option of a MacGregor is quite nice. For about 1 1/2 hours, we trolled for salmon. Bryant caught 2 and I caught 1. Saturday is our official fishing day. We decided that cleaning fish and blood off the boat on Sunday, while we are packing up to head home doesn't work out too well. While we were anchored up in the South Arm of Granite Bay Marine Park, Gus and I each caught rockfish, but we didn't bother keeping them. I also spent a little bit of time casting from the shoreline and caught some pink salmon. Again, I didn't bother keeping them, but I had a lot of fun reeling them in.

For more photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/PrinceWilliamSound8808

A Birthday Weekend in PWS

For better or worse, we decided to leave the boat in Whittier for the next two months. Yes, he - meaning my husband, who hates rain and cloudy weather, has committed to this town of 190 inches of rain a year. It is well known around the state that a nice day in Whittier is one where it is not raining or blowing or both, which means that nice in Whittier often means it is misting or cloudy. Once in a while, a gift of sunshine blesses all with its presence and mountains, glaciers, fjiords and waterfalls abound. Whittier proclaims itself as the "gateway to Prince William Sound (PWS)," which is probably because the town itself is a little strange is nothing in it worth mentioning. Whittier was founded during World War II when the U.S. Military was searching for a stratigaclly located ice free port to bring supplies into Alaska. Nestled down Passage Canal deep in Prince William Sound the makings of the town Whittier was established. In order to connect this town to the rest of Alaska, two tunnels were built through the mountains and rail tracks were laid and tied into the railway from Seward to Fairbanks. Until 2001, the only way to access this port town of approximately 300 people was via train. Tourist traffic used the passenger cars, while locals and ferry traffic had the option of loading cars on flatbed rail cars.

Finish later . . . .

More photos at: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/PrinceWilliamSound

Alaskans vacationing in the "Lower 48"

What do you suppose would be the highlight of two Alaskan boys, age 10 and 12, touring the "lower 48" from Washington to Michigan? Definately not the spectacular mountain scenery and deep river canyons as us normal folks who were born in the flat country would think.

In three weeks, we experienced plenty of fun - visiting relatives in 5 different states, white water rafting, geysers, hot springs, Mt. Rushmore, but the reoccuring theme of this vacation through 14 states for Wyatt and Gus was finding critters and soaking in the local watering hole. Who says we aren't products of our environment? In Alaska, there are no reptiles, a green tree frog is the only amphibian and swimming is something that is done mostly in pools, due to the cool cloud covered 50-60 degree summer temperatures in Southcentral Alaska. So I guess it isn't too suprising that the boys spent numerous hours engaged in two activities, swimming and critters.


Finish when I have time . . . .

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/WestMidwestTour

A week of sailing, or at least trying to!

Bryant and I spent a week down in Kachemak Bay trying to hone our sailing skills. Unfortunately, the wind was not always cooperating and many days we drifted on the ocean at 1-2 knots, until we finally we'd give into the 70 horse power motor.

More details when I have time . . . .

More pictures at: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/KachemakBayJB

Halibut Cove, AK

This past weekend will be remembered as the weekend of the "lost king salmon." I think Gus was more upset about it than me. We sailed across to Halibut Cove Lagoon on Friday. We had a steady SW breeze at 10 mph and sailed 4-6 mph, using both the main and the jib. When we arrived at the lagoon, king salmon fishing appeared to be hot. Spotters from higher up were watching and directing fisherman where the big school of salmon were circling around. Fisherman were casting lines left and right and across from each other. As it turned out, this particular scene was the high point of fishing. Three people netted nice sized kings in about a 10 minute time frame.

I started out optimistic, but as the evening wore on and hours went by, only one other person caught a fish. We made an unfortunate mistake of leaving our good casting rods in the truck at the dock and the only thing on the boat were salmon trolling reels, which are not so easy to cast. Firm placement of your thumb on the rod where the line spools is crucial otherwise the line is in a tangled mess. Learning this new technique was quite the adventure in itself.

By midday Saturday, I would only goof up if I needed a good cast into a school of fish that were swimming nearby. Otherwise it seemed as though I perfected the technique. By this time, the fishing seemed to dwindle to nearly non-existent and I entertained myself by looking at the counter on the reel and seeing how many feet of line I could cast out successfully. It was about 3 pm and only 2 fish were caught all morning, but the weather was nice and we didn't plan on leaving the lagoon until the 5:00pm high tide, so I continued with my game of casting the rod for as many feet as possible without a tangle. Surprise . . . It must have been my lucky chance because once when I casted out, my line immediately was being pulled away. I shrieked, "It's a fish. Gus get the net."

Seeing as this was the most excitement the dock had seen all day, the few persistent people still milling around the dock came to watch and the fisherman casting from the boat nearby, casted with a bit more umph and hope. The fish fought and I tried reeling. I would make progress and then watch my rod counter move from 25 feet to 76 feet when it spooled. Unfortunately I was standing in a bad position on the fish pen, where I couldn't even hope of landing a fish. I had to move off the pen and get the rod around a piling in order to land the fish on the dock. Somewhere in this process, I also must have loosened the drag too much and the fish got a little more line than one would ideally like. And of course like the half-hearted fisherman I am, I didn't know how to tighten the drag. All and all, I did enough things wrong and in the end, the spirited fish succeeded in wrapping itself around the anchored fish pen under the dock and freeing itself. My chance at a first every king was replaced with a snag in the fry filled fish pen awaiting their release into the ocean.

While disappointed, I wasn't crushed. Gus was crushed. He said that he'd have rather I not even had the bite if he knew I was going to loose it. Apparently, he thinks king salmon is much better than halibut, so he wanted a little of that for the freezer as well. He must have been enjoying his meal the whole time I was in fish frenzy chaos, and fish frenzy turned into a story instead of a meal.

We left the lagoon early that evening and decided to practice sailing in Kachemak Bay before docking for the night. Bryant and I always try to switch jobs so each of us get practice managing the sails and navigating. In general, we are learning that we need more practice remembering all the little details that go with sailing. It seems like eventually the act of getting ready to sail should be as smooth and flawless as moving a clutch on a car to 2nd gear, but now I feel like we are stuck in the jerky movements of a beginning driver. Eventually we get to sailing, but it isn't without the "Oh yeah, remember the . . . ." After beating upwind a bit, we turned around into a less windy bay near the community of Halibut Cove and practiced reefing the main sail. We hadn't reefed our sail before and Bryant had recently read that sailors should reef the sail before you need it. While we've never been in the position of reefing a sail in harsh weather, we both suspected that it is easier to let a reef out than reef in foul weather conditions. Practice . . . practice . . . practice.

We decided to spend the night at the public dock in the small community of Halibut Cove. While in Seldovia last weekend, another sailor told us of this public dock and we scouted it out before we entered the lagoon yesterday. It works out good for us because we are self-contained with bathroom facilities. Because of the lack of facilities and public land off the dock, the dock by default becomes a private dock for a few who live there or have summer cabins, which prompts one to think about why state funding was ever allocated to build this dock in the first place. Hmmm. . . . . . .

The next morning we woke up to rain. We decided to motor back to Homer and call it a weekend.