In Harris Bay, the entrance, there were several fishing boats, probably out of Seward. We used the binoculars to watch someone catch
a fish, and it was a salmon. So we stopped and Fullerton caught a couple of big salmon. We let them go because we were too lazy to
clean them. I caught none.
We went through a gap in a glacial moraine to enter Northwestern Fiord. There were scattered small pieces of ice. For about six
miles, there were more and more ice pieces until we came to a mass of ice packed in front of a couple of glaciers. I don't know what
these are named, but they're on the way to Northwestern Glacier.
We motored very slowly in the ice, because I get nervous when hard things bang against the hull of the boat. Most of the ice was 3
feet in diameter or smaller. We got close to the packed ice, but stopped because I was chicken. We probably could have motored on
through it, but I was worried about propeller damage and blocked engine cooling and sea monsters.
There was a current flowing downstream. The packed is was not moving with the current, which explains how it got packed.
So I broke out a kayak and headed across the ice. It was thin enough that it would sink under the kayak when I went across it. There
was a trail through the ice behind the kayak, just like an icebreaker. It was pretty hard to turn to avoid the big pieces, and
occasionally I'd run into a piece of ice that didn't budge under the mass of me and a kayak.
As I approached the glaciers, I realized something that Chrysler has been telling for years: "Things are larger then they appear."
Those two smaller glaciers are huge! They're pretty noisy, too. I really enjoyed watching pieces of ice fall off, some larger than
the Minnow.
When I got close to the glacier, I remember the rule Doug Fesler mentioned, to keep a distance of three times the height of the
glacier. I was doing some mental ciphering trying to figure out what angle has a tangent of 3 or 1/3 so I could tell when to stop. I
guessed 20 degrees (it's really 18.5), when a piece of ice broke off the glacier and sent a small wave my direction. Actually, the
wave went every direction, but my direction was the one I was concerned with. I took it as a hint and didn't get any closer.
We probably could have continued three miles to Northwestern Glacier, but I was chicken because of all the ice. So we turned around.
There had been no other boats inside Northwestern Fiord, which was really cool. On our way out we met three boats coming in, a
fishing boat, a pleasure boat, and possibly a small tour boat.
We came to Beehive Island. We took a slow drift around the island. Fullerton fished (caught a cod) and I looked at the island. There
were a lot of seagulls and a few other birds. We accumulated a lot of flies. I mentioned that we should try to keep them outside.
Next, we had several-hour trip to the mouth of Prince William Sound. At least I think it's the mouth. I'm not sure where the sound
starts. While Fullerton slept, I mounted a tactical offensive on the flies. When Fullerton regained consciousness, he was astounded
at the carnage -- dozens of fly carcasses and pieces of fly swatter scattered all over the cockpit. I thought I showed considerable
restraint by not using the shotgun.
We pulled into the back of Auk Bay to anchor. I went kayaking and followed a black bear strolling around the bay.
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