It might be appropriate to begin this discussion by remarking that one of the most important services performed by Alaska pilots is not Alaska piloting at all, but the safe conduct of vessels through the bewildering maze of channels, narrows, bays, and islands that define the famous “inside passage” between Seattle and the southern tip of the Alaska panhandle in Dixon Entrance. Of the 650-mile stretch from Seattle to Ketchikan, 78 miles are in the Puget Sound country, 523 miles in British Columbia, and only 49 miles in the waters of southeastern Alaska. The navy skipper who employs a licensed pilot as his personal guide through the inside passage to Ketchikan entrusts his ship to a mariner who has never been examined as to his knowledge of 80 per cent of the route traversed, and who as a matter of law could not be licensed to pilot in the waters referred to because of his American citizenship. However, it is all perfectly legal because, by a reciprocal arrangement, a qualified Alaska pilot is permitted to take United States vessels through Canadian Waters and a qualified Canadian pilot to take vessels from Canadian ports through the waters of southeastern Alaska. Most naval commanding officers who have been piloted north will agree that, with the exception of two or three tricky channels in Alaska like Wrangell Narrows and Peril Straits, it is on the way up to Alaska and back that the pilot really earns his salt.
In making the so-called southeastern excursion tour, American commercial vessels proceed from Seattle to Ketchikan and then continue on for another 600 miles, approximately, to Wrangell, Petersburg, Taku Glacier, Juneau, Skagway, and Sitka, returning south usually via the same ports except Skagway. Canadian vessels sometimes omit Sitka, and of course do not stop at the numerous picturesque salmon canneries where the American passenger vessels, during the summer season, pick up sizable portions of their southbound cargo. Skagway, at a dead end of the inside passage, is the northernmost port of southeastern Alaska; and the very narrow width of United States territory in the panhandle is shown by the fact that the White Pass and Yukon Railway, connecting with White Horse on the Yukon River, crosses the Canadian boundary 20 miles out of Skagway. Sitka, the original Russian capital and the westernmost port in the panhandle, nestles at the edge of lofty Baranof Island and, except for a fringe of protective islets, faces on the open Pacific, with Mount Edgecumbe, Fujiyama of Alaska, rearing its symmetrical crater almost in the front yard.
Emerging from Cross Sound at Cape Spencer, vessels bound for southwestern ports cross the tempestuous bight of ocean known as the Gulf of Alaska to Cape St. Elias, 264 miles distant and, after following the coast for another 67 miles, enter Prince William Sound at Cape Hinchinbrook. Tourist vessels call at Cordova, terminus of the Copper River and Northwestern Railway, and Valdez, from which the famous Richardson Highway leads 400 miles inland to Fairbanks. From Valdez they are routed via Columbia Glacier to Seward, at the head of Resurrection Bay, where the government’s Alaska Railroad connects for Anchorage on Cook Inlet, and Fairbanks. At Cordova passengers may transfer to a smaller steamer for Seldovia and Port Graham, on Cook Inlet, and for Kodiak Island points; and at Seward to another steamer for scattered ports of call along the Alaskan peninsula and off-lying islands all the way to Bering Sea. While steamship service is greatly reduced in the winter months, it is maintained on at least a monthly basis the year round as far west as Dutch Harbor, only northern Bering Sea ports being cut off by the close of navigation from November to May.
It will be observed that there are several thousand miles of inland water navigation in this northern country where scheduled vessels make their way, day and night, summer and winter, with comparatively few aids to navigation and often under conditions of very low visibility. Just how many miles of navigable channels are used it would be difficult to say. The Federal Bureau of Marine Inspection and Navigation, for the purpose of licensing pilots, divides Alaska waters into two districts: southeastern Alaska, from Dixon Entrance to Cape Spencer, and southwestern Alaska, from Cape Spencer to Bering Sea. Several years ago the writer compiled a detailed handbook for use in Alaska that included customary routes between the principal ports of call but omitted innumerable short runs from main channels into the many bays and inlets important only for isolated canneries or salteries. Incomplete as this book is, it includes 2,565 miles of track between Seattle and Cape Spencer, and 1,535 miles between Cape Spencer and the western side of Kodiak Island. If we add 500 miles for the inside run from Kodiak to Dutch Harbor, the impressive total is 4,600 miles of what might be termed line mileage or about 5 times the channel distance from Seattle to Skagway.
During the days of the Klondike gold rush the inside passage was used by steamers that carried thousands of prospectors from Puget Sound to Skagway, with scarcely a navigation light along the entire route, and with only the aid of very sketchy British and Russian charts. These charts were for the most part of very small scale, and of such inaccurate triangulation that it was virtually impossible to cut in a vessel’s position, even if those pioneer pilots had had the instruments and the knowledge for obtaining a cut. On more than one tragic occasion an uncharted rock was struck and named by the vessel discovering it, until finally a track was evolved which seemed to be free from all danger, and knowledge of which was passed along by word of mouth from one pilot to another. In those early days an Alaska pilot was truly not a mariner who knew where the rocks were but where they were not. When you watch the work of an “old-timer” today you will see him line up the vessel in his charge on one landmark after another, often with a mark both ahead and astern, which may be a peak, a point of land, a conspicuous tree, a bald spot, or even an old landslide so covered with second growth timber that only the keen eye of a veteran will still distinguish it from the surrounding forest. He is adhering with scrupulous care to the track which he knows will leave on either hand the bones of those less fortunate ships disintegrating fathoms deep in the vicinity of the pinnacle rocks and reefs that destroyed them.
Even today, the prudent navigator in Alaska waters sticks to this old track, and does any necessary off-line exploring at slow speed and with lead constantly going. The work of wire dragging by the Coast and Geodetic Survey is continually going forward, and has now extended to numerous sections of southeastern Alaska, as indicated by the issue of green-tinted charts covering these safe areas. The fact that, as this work progresses, unsuspected rocks are still being discovered proves the soundness of staying in the known groove except when on a green-tinted chart. The Writer was never more convinced of this than when the notices to mariners announced in the autumn of 1934 the discovery of a rock in one fathom in Unalga Pass; a few weeks after he had passed within 0.4 mile of the exact spot at 12 knots with the U.S.S. Holland and 6 submarines.
With the exception of the eastern shore of Bering Sea, the entire Alaska coast is probably of volcanic origin, and channels of a mile or less in width are often of astonishing depth. The mountains which order on both sides of the channel do not level off at the shore line but keep on going down for hundreds of feet, and there are literally many miles of these channels where an ocean vessel could tie up to the shore. It is a common saying that in the inside passage horizontal soundings are usually less than the vertical. Occasionally the age-long process of disintegration has left some hardier peak rising sheer from the ocean floor to within a few feet of the surface, and it is the resulting “pinnacle rock” that has so long been the dread of Alaska mariners. It was such a pinnacle which sank the steamship State of California in Gambier Bay in 1913, with the loss oi 31 lives; and a similar pinnacle in Uyak Bay, western Kodiak Island, a few years ago caused the steamship Aleutian, within minutes of striking, to sink in 400 feet of water. In 1914 the U. S. Coast Guard cutter Tahoma was lost when she struck an isolated reef, which proved to be nearly 2 miles in extent, 31 miles south of Buldir Island, in the Aleutians. The lead me, or even the sounding machine, is of course little protection against this particular form of menace.
Alaska’s strategic position in the possible event of hostilities in the Pacific has made acquaintance with her waters of considerable importance to the naval officer, and this no doubt accounts for the growing number of Alaska cruises being scheduled by the Navy. During the past few years the writer has accompanied approximately 60 naval vessels on 19 different summer cruises, ranging in duration from 2 weeks to 2 months and in area covered from Ketchikan to Unalaska. Many other naval expeditions have doubtless been carried out, and more recently even winter and spring maneuvers have occurred in southwestern Alaska. Up to the present no naval vessel longer than the U.S.S. Detroit or of greater tonnage than the U.S.S. Holland has navigated the inside passage; but heavy cruisers have visited southeastern ports, and battleships southwestern ports, via the outside route.
From the standpoint of practicability, a vessel of any size may follow the usual inside track with safety. Perhaps a little “debunking” with reference to the inside passage might be in order here. With the exception of Seymour Narrows, 205 miles from Seattle, there is no part of the route from Seattle to Ketchikan that cannot be run at any stage of the tide. A competent pilot will make any of the passages as readily at night as by day; but infrequent as satisfactory anchorages are, they are at least sufficient in number so that a vessel can anchor, if desired, during the hours of darkness. The largest commercial steamers never anchor because of darkness, and seldom for fog. Aids to navigation are being added frequently, and there are already more than 50 lights in the 450 miles from Georgia Strait to Ketchikan. Some of the charts, particularly in Canadian waters, are of such small scale that they convey a false impression of the narrowness of the channel, which is in only a few cases less than a mile in width and is for long stretches several miles across. Officers making their first cruise north, with preconceived notions derived from a casual inspection of these charts, are invariably surprised at the maneuvering room which they find.
During the last 15 years it has been customary for naval units other than district vessels using the inside passage to take pilots at Seattle for the round voyage. Prior to that time a number of successful cruises were made without pilots, which is convincing proof, remembering that there were fewer aids to navigation then than now, that piloting service to the average navy skipper is a convenience rather than a necessity. Of course the Navy Department never questions any commanding officer’s request for a pilot, and probably considers that the local knowledge obtained from a pilot in an average cruise to Alaska justifies the cost of the service. The writer, in the dual role of Naval Reservist and licensed pilot, is frank to admit from his experience with naval vessels that the type of precision navigation used in the service, with the aid of the gyrocompass and bridge wing repeaters for cutting in position, is far superior to the “seaman’s-eye” system of the average pilot, and entirely capable of taking naval vessels safely anywhere that visibility is good and water is navigable. Commanding officers and navigators with whom the writer has served have, with a single exception, been making their first voyage to Alaska and have appeared to value the services of a pilot chiefly for the following reasons:
- In the rapid panorama of changing course and shifting scenery, a stranger may easily get lost. Nothing could be more embarrassing, at 20 knots, than to forget what part of the inside passage you are in, particularly as there is a multiplicity of channels which look more or less alike.
- Going through Seymour Narrows. Although very prosaic in actuality, this has been widely advertised, like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, as a thrilling experience.
- Familiarity with the channel when visibility is reduced by heavy rainstorms, fog, or darkness. Local fogs are not infrequent, and a pilot can usually locate himself from a single glimpse of the shore line.
- The effect of currents. Here again, a genuine “debunking” statement must include the double admission that the effect of tidal currents in the inside passage has been greatly exaggerated and that many of these currents are so irregular that they are as unpredictable to the pilot as to the visiting navigator.
- Familiarity with anchorages and landing places. Undoubtedly the pilot is in a position here to render a highly convenient, though not a necessary, service. They are all adequately described in the Coast Pilot.
- Going through Wrangell Narrows or Peril Strait. The writer has yet to find a skipper who would attempt either of these passages alone, after being shown the way through once. Both of these passages may, of course, be avoided.
Before leaving the subject of pilots, it should be pointed out that there are now some 15 qualified Alaska pilots who hold commissions as lieutenants or lieutenant commanders in the U. S. Naval Reserve. Their services may be obtained through the commandant, 13th Naval District, and it is therefore unnecessary, as well as in some respects undesirable, to employ pilots outside the naval service. It is true that Alaska shipping is to a considerable degree seasonal; the Alaska Steamship Company, for instance, increasing its services from 4 ships in winter to 20 in the summer months, when most navy cruises are made. However, with 4 cruises, involving 16 vessels and requiring the simultaneous services of 6 pilots at the height of the season last July, all those employed were Naval Reserve officers, five of whom obtained leaves of absence from their own vessels in favor of temporary naval service.
In planning an Alaska cruise of naval vessels, consideration should be given to the following factors:
(1) Time allowed for the cruise.—If an important objective is to familiarize officer personnel with the waters and stopping places, then it is the writer’s opinion that 2 weeks for a southeastern cruise and 3 weeks for a southwestern cruise should be the minimum. This will permit, at least in the summer months, all daylight running, and an overnight stop at each place of importance.
(2) Route to be followed.—Minor variations of is will depend on tidal conditions, speed, and mileage possible with fuel allowance, etc. For example, one may proceed from Puget Sound to Seymour Narrows via Rosario Strait, Active Pass, or Boundary Pass.
(3) Speed available.—This will be governed by fleet regulations, fuel capacity, etc., rather than by piloting considerations. Speeds as high as 25 nots are entirely practicable and have been made through most of the inside passage.
(4) Time of slack water at Seymour Narrows.—As there are ample depths in Seymour Narrows, vessels go through at either high or low water ack. The advantage of high water slack, if it can be fitted into the schedule, is that vessels giving at the Narrows at that time carry a favorable current for some miles north and south the narrows, while a corresponding adverse current must be stemmed if transit is made at low water slack.
(5) Anchorages to be used en route.—The selection overnight anchorages may depend, not only on the preceding factors, but on the number of vessels in company.
(6)Ports to be visited.-—These will vary with the number of vessels present, according to berthing facilities available and the capacity of the Port to absorb liberty parties. Ketchikan and Juneau, the two largest ports, have a population of about 6,000 each; other Alaska cities range from a few hundred to 1,000 persons.
In view of the fact that the reader may in the not too distant future be assigned to make an Alaska cruise, it will perhaps be interest to describe some of the details from the standpoint of practical piloting hat must be worked out. Let us assume, for example, that we have 2 divisions of destroyers, plus a squadron flag, and the assignment is a 2-week cruise to southeastern Alaska. It is desired to make all speed consistent with safety and fuel consumption on the way up in order to allow the maximum time in Alaskan waters, and it is found that, as far as fuel for the round trip is concerned, we can steam at 23 knots to Ketchikan provided we do not average over 15 knots for the balance of the trip. Assuming that we are going through Wrangell Narrows and Peril Strait it will be advisable to have 3 pilots, each one looking after his own vessel and the next 2 in column. In the two passages named, the writer has observed on a number of occasions that no difficulty is experienced in having 2 following vessels turn on the same ground as the leader, as they can keep her in sight on the turns. The same is true of Seymour Narrows and other restricted passages.
Suppose we have fully fueled at the Navy Yard, Puget Sound, and our schedule calls for leaving Seattle Monday, July 12, 1937. With 23 knots at our disposal we consult the Pacific Coast Current Tables and find that tides are of medium strength, the moon being about 3 days old, and that slack water in Seymour Narrows occurs at 1:54 p.m. This is L.W. slack, but we cannot make the H.W. slack at 7:56 a.m., and we do not want to wait for the second H.W. slack at 8:32 p.m. It will be noted that this checks approximately with the Canadian tide tables, which give 2:12 p.m. as the moment of L.W. slack.
Allowing 9 hours for the 205-mile run to the narrows and a little additional time for getting the 9 vessels under way, we set 0400 as the tentative time of departure and check the current tables for conditions at Active Pass, 90 miles from Seattle. It is slack at 0721 and attains a maximum velocity against us of 4.5 knots at 1017, which will be about 2 knots by the time we arrive at 0830. We elect to go by this route, which is 6 miles shorter than that via Rosario Strait and 9.5 miles shorter than that via Boundary Pass.
Active Pass is a narrow, Z-shaped pass joining Trincomali Channel with Georgia Strait, about 2.3 miles in length and characterized by strong swirls and eddies when the tide is running. Although used regularly by the largest commercial passenger vessels in the Alaskan service it should not be attempted by strangers except at or near slack water. Destroyers in column have no difficulty negotiating it at 15 knots. Of the two alternate routes available, Rosario Strait is on the whole preferable because it is shorter, though for night running not as well lighted. Anchorages suitable for 9 vessels are not plentiful, and our next detail is the selection of one which can be reached with a minimum of night running. Port McNeil, across from Alert Bay, is a favorite anchorage for naval vessels, but is only 75 miles beyond the Narrows. We decide to try for Bella Bella, 192 miles from Seymour Narrows, which should be reached shortly after 2200, when at that time of year it will just be getting dark. With the squadron flag in McLaughlin Bay, a mile to the southward, there will be ample room for the other boats in 4 nests of 2 each in Bella Bella Harbor.
From Bella Bella to Ketchikan it is approximately 252 miles, or 11 hours steaming at 23 knots. We set 0400 for getting under way, which will bring us to port at 1500 if the weather is clear and allow a margin for delay by fog in the morning, which is very likely to occur at this time of the year, particularly in Lama Passage and Tolmie Channel, a short distance from anchorage. Should we be delayed several hours, there is an excellent anchorage for a large number of vessels south of Kennedy Island, about 100 miles short of Ketchikan, which can be reached in a run of less than 7 hours, and we plan in that event to use it and run into Ketchikan the next morning.
The plan of procedure from Seattle to Ketchikan here outlined was closely approximated by the U.S.S. Litchfield plus 2 divisions on a cruise last summer. Fog was encountered in Puget Sound and in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and we arrived at Seymour Narrows half an hour after slack water; but no difficulty was experienced in going through at 20 knots. On the run from Bella Bella fog again held us up in Finlayson and Tolmie Channels; but we anchored off Cardena Bay, Kennedy Island, for the night and arrived in Ketchikan the next morning at 1100. Thence the 9 vessels continued in company via Wrangell Narrows to Petersburg, where they separated and completed the cruise under direction of their respective division commanders.
On a protracted cruise made by the U.S.S. Holland plus Subdiv. 12 in the summer of 1934, a schedule was followed to Ketchikan which was much more trying to pilots and naval personnel alike. Fuel allowance permitted a speed of 11 knots for the formation, and in order to carry out a previously arranged schedule no stops were made between Seattle and Ketchikan except to anchor once in thick fog for about an hour. Slack water in Seymour Narrows was late at night, and in the face of a driving rain the Narrows appeared about as dark as the inside of a cow. The second night’s run included the long, narrow, unlighted canyon called Grenville Channel; and altogether those responsible for navigating the Holland and her submarines were ready for sleep when the 66- hour run to Ketchikan was ended. The balance of the cruise was both pleasant and instructive, the ships proceeding at a leisurely rate to Sitka, Juneau, Cordova, Columbia Glacier, Valdez, Seward, Kodiak, and Dutch Harbor, and returning to San Diego via Pearl Harbor.
Probably no article on the inside passage would be acceptable without some more specific comment on Seymour Narrows, passage of which we have mentioned as a more or less routine performance. This famous bottleneck may be described as a straight, deep cut between two walls of sheer rock, less than a mile in length and about 800 yards across, the width being divided evenly into two channels by Ripple Rock, with 9 feet over it at zero tide. Although approximately a 50° change of course must be made just before entering the Narrows from the south, the approach from the north is so straight that vessels have steered for 7 or 8 miles the course that took them past the rock. The tides, which are constricted in the narrow opening between Maud Island and the Vancouver Island shore, follow the coast of the latter island from Cape Scott approximately 130 miles, and are “r’aring to go” when they reach the Narrows, on their way to meet the flood from the opposite direction 10 miles south of Cape Mudge, in Georgia Strait. The result is a 13- or 14-knot current, with all the swirls and overfalls that go with such a cataract. The writer has seen logs in this oiling tide spun end for end like straws, and in the vicinity of Ripple Rock an over-fall making a sheer wall of white water 2 or 3 feet in height. Such a phenomenon seems a violation of the laws of physics, but is of quite regular appearance on spring tides.
Modern navigators cannot but marvel at the seamanship of Captain Vancouver, who circumnavigated the island which bears his name in 1792, and who therefore passed through Seymour Narrows long before there were either steam tugs or Pacific Coast Current Tables. He no doubt coasted down the smooth slick that still appears between the swirls about one-third of the way from Ripple Rock to Maud Island Light, when the tide is at the flood. The Indians have a legend about some later, less fortunate explorer, who wandered in search of adventure through the narrows on the ebb, when the tide was nearly low, and had his vessel impaled on Ripple Rock for a brief instant before disappearing with all hands. Many years ago the wooden steamship Cottage City, attempting passage a little too long after the tide had started to flow, was thrown athwart the channel by a tide rip and carried across the rock with her keel torn off as clean as a whistle. More recently, the passenger steamship Northwestern, following a little steering trouble in the Narrows, came in contact with the shore, and returned to Seattle with her stem appearing somewhat like a horse looking back to see who is driving. The U.S.S. Eagle 57, training ship of Seattle Naval Reserve units, won somewhat questionable fame on one of her northern cruises by running the Narrows in the middle of a spring ebb, and making a complete 360° turn just after passing the rock. This was regarded by all on board as anything but a routine passage. The writer is reminded of the reassuring remark of a woman passenger on an excursion steamer as the vessel entered Seymour Narrows: “Well there’s one thing, if anything happens, we’re right near the shore!”
The moral of the foregoing discussion is that in the writer’s opinion, these Narrows should ordinarily not be attempted more than half an hour from the predicted time of slack during the long tides, nor more than an hour from that time during short tides; and the closer passage is made to the exact time of slack the better. This despite the optimistic statement in the Canadian tide tables that “The Narrows can be safely run, north bound, at any stage of the tide, by a handy ship if fitted with good steering gear.” Several good anchorages are available immediately north and south of the Narrows, and one of them should always be used until such time as a safe and easy passage of the Narrows can be made.
In going from Ketchikan to Wrangell no particular consideration need be given to tidal conditions; but if the destination is Petersburg, via Wrangell Narrows, then it is well to leave in time to arrive at the south end of the Narrows 1.5 or 2 hours before high water slack at Petersburg, as predicted in the current tables. This gives the most favorable current conditions in the Narrows, which are nearly 22 miles in length. Point Alexander, at the entrance to Wrangell Narrows, may be reached via Snow Passage, west of Zarembo Island, or Stikine Strait, east of the island; as there are frequently strong tide rips in Snow Passage at the suggested time of approach, Stikine Strait is ordinarily preferred, though this route is 3 miles longer. However, visitors to Alaska will find that the scenery via Stikine Strait more than compensates for the slight additional distance; and it is, moreover, the convenient route if a stop at the old city of Wrangell is desired.
It is a short run of 20 miles from Wrangell docks to Wrangell Narrows. Next to Seymour Narrows, this passage is undoubtedly the most widely advertised on the entire Alaska run. It is used by the largest commercial steamships in the service, including the Aleutian, 416 feet in length, but it is certainly not to be recommended for naval vessels larger than destroyers. It is a convenient passage for vessels bound for Juneau, saving 64 miles between Ketchikan and Juneau and 161 miles between Wrangell and Petersburg. It differs markedly from most channels in Alaska in that it has in it a succession of sharp turns and is of restricted depth throughout its length. Within the past few years it has been deepened and straightened somewhat, and numerous aids to navigation have been added, until there are now approximately 50 of these aids to mark the shoals and jagged reefs along the 22 miles of waterway. A system has been followed of placing green lights on one side of the channel and red lights on the other, with the result that at a number of places in the tortuous track lights of both colors can be seen at night on both bows, a very confusing arrangement to a stranger. A 21-foot depth can now be carried all the way through the Narrows at zero tide, which will, of course, be increased by several feet if the recommended practice of going through just before high water is observed.
The point in doing this with naval vessels is not so much a matter of channel depths as it is of avoiding unfavorable currents and eddies at several of the turns particularly with a number of vessels in formation. Moreover, by starting at the south end an hour and a half before high water, slack water will be available for the landing at Petersburg, where the current along the wharves is prohibitive for maneuvering when the tide is running- With destroyers it has been customary to go through with 3 boats in a piloting unit well closed up. A standard speed of 12 knots has been found the best for this class of vessel. On the cruise last summer the U.S.S. Litchfield led 2 divisions all the way through the Narrows at that speed without difficulty, and without slowing down.
From Petersburg northward through Frederick Sound and Stephens Passage the channel, which is wide and deep, runs between lofty mountain ranges, and the scenery in clear weather is of surpassing grandeur. Snow-capped peaks and glaciers are in sight much of the way, and it is in Frederick Sound that floating ice is likely first to be encountered. Eleven miles south of Juneau, tourist vessels turn up Taku Inlet for the 17-mile run above Bishop Point to Taku Glacier, one of the famous beauty spots of southeastern Alaska. Because of recent changes in the channel above the mouth of Taku River, strangers should not attempt to visit the glacier. During the recent trips with destroyers, the writer has found shoal spots near the glacier where the chart shows 60 fathoms. Naval vessels larger than destroyers should not go up Taku Inlet beyond Flat Point, 9 miles below the glacier; and even destroyers, unless very certain of their leading marks, should proceed above this point at slow speed and with the lead or sounding machine going. Three sources of danger have developed since publication of the latest piloting information: (1) The shoals above Jaw Point and Flat Point are building out, narrowing the available channel between them to Taku Point. (2) Mud from Taku River is apparently being carried across the channel and built up on the shoal off Norris Glacier. A regular passenger steamer stranded off this point last summer. (3) On the face of the glacier silt is forming at the northwest end, rendering navigation unsafe beyond the middle point of the face. Two additional precautions may be suggested here. The first applies to any glacier: do not approach too closely because of danger from “pups”, i.e., bergs which fall off the face of the glacier, plunge to great depths, and pop up with terrific force 200 or 300 yards away. Second, in leaving Taku glacier, hold well over to the Taku River side until Flat Point is seen down the channel to open Jaw Point; thence a course down mid-channel will clear Norris Glacier Shoal. However, depths of from d to 4 fathoms at low water will be found to prevail for a considerable distance below Taku Point, or until the channel widens out below the flats which make out from either shore above Flat Point.
From the standpoint of piloting, there is clear sailing on into Juneau, and thence out around Douglas Island into Lynn Canal, which leads to Chilkoot Barracks, formerly Fort Seward, adjoining the old settlement of Haines, in Portage Cove, and to Skagway, at the head of Taiya Inlet. The spectacular beauty of Lynn Canal, with its snow-capped sentinels lininng both sides, is unsurpassed in southeastern Alaska. This wide expanse of channel has little in it to suggest the major marine tragedy of Alaska’s shipping history. It was on the straight, 20-mile stretch down the middle of Lynn Canal that the Canadian steamship Princess Sophia laid her course from Point Sherman for Sentinel Island, on a snowy night in 1918, with a full load of Yukon River steamboat men and their families bound ‘outside,” as Alaskans express it, for the winter. An unsuspected current, a compass error, or perhaps a slight fault in steering, caused the ill-fated vessel to be set gradually to the right, and 15 miles from Port Sherman she struck on Vanderbilt Reef, which lies a little over a mile off the track. For 2 days she hung on the reef, with numerous small vessels standing by to take off her personnel. On the second night a gale blew up which drove the smaller vessels to shelter in St. James Bay; and in the morning the Princess Sophia had foundered in the deep water next to the reef, with only the top of her foremast to mark the last resting place of more than 300 men, women, and children. A concrete structure with a light now marks the reef which caused the frightful disaster. Singularly enough, it was at the end of this same long straight-away course that the steamship Northwestern struck at full speed on the reef which makes out from Sentinel Island in the summer of 1933. The weather was clear, and the vessel headed for the light for 20 miles before making a bull’s-eye on it, a mistake in the “pilot’s-eye” judgment of distance being the only explanation of the casualty. Lieutenant Commander Jock Livingstone, U. S. Naval Reserve, the veteran commander of the ship, immediately took charge and drove his vessel nearly 3 miles at full speed to the flats at the mouth of Eagle River, where he beached her on an even keel at nearly high water. This fine feat of seamanship prevented any loss of life and made the subsequent job of salvage a very simple one. The U.S.S. Trever, which happened to be in Juneau at the time, responded to the S.O.S. message and went to the scene for the passengers, mail, and baggage.
One of the tragedies of early gold-rush days occurred on the run between Skagway and Juneau, near the south end of Gastineau Channel. In 1901, the SS. Islander, with passengers and about $3,000,000 in gold, struck an iceberg at night and foundered in deep water so quickly that more than 70 persons were drowned. A remarkable salvage effort completed 2 or 3 years ago was successful in raising the barnacle-encrusted remains of the hull from the bottom and beaching it, between two barges, in Young’s Bay; but unfortunately the heavy treasure had disappeared through what little was left of the vessel’s bottom.
Vessels the size of the larger destroyers may easily make the run from Juneau or Skagway to Sitka by way of Peril Strait to Salisbury Sound, though the remainder of the inside run, through Neva and Olga Straits, is not to be recommended to vessels larger than eagle boats or navy tugs, because of the difficult and narrow passage through Whitestone Narrows. Cruisers and larger ships would have great difficulty making some of the turns in Peril Strait, and must use Icy Strait or go around Cape Ommaney. Several good anchorages, with excellent opportunities for fishing, are available in the eastern portion of Peril Strait. One of them should be used unless the trip is timed from Juneau or Skagway so as to arrive at Sergius Narrows at slack water, preferably high water slack.
On a number of trips through Peril Strait with destroyers in column, the writer has found 10 to 12 knots a convenient maneuvering speed. It has been found that the only turn which causes any difficulty is that around Big Rose Island when south bound. On one occasion it was necessary to go 1/3 astern on the starboard screw to round the beacon off Big Rose Island without being set over to Adams Channel Shoal. By starting the swing before reaching the northeast point of the Island, the necessity of handling the engines may usually be avoided.
The run to Sitka from Kakul Narrows Light via Salisbury Sound and around Cape Edgecumbe is about 51 miles, as compared with 24 miles via Whitestone Narrows. While a pilot could take a single destroyer through inside, the writer has always recommended the outside route to naval vessels larger than eagle boats.
Another very scenic inside trip in southeastern Alaska open to destroyers is from Dixon Entrance to Cape Decision via the ports of Waterfall, Craig, and Klawak on the west coast of Prince of Wales Island. The distance from Dixon Entrance is about the same, though doubling back from Ketchikan to Cape Chacon increases it about 55 miles. The route leads through Cordova Bay, Tlevak Strait, Ulloa Channel, Klawak Inlet, San Alberto Bay, Tonowek Narrows, Karkeen Passage, Sea Otter Sound, Davidson Inlet, and Warren Channel. Excellent charts—though not green- tinted—and sailing directions are available for all these passages, and it will be found that in the narrow portions dangers are well buoyed. Tlevak Narrows just north of Dali Island, locally known as Skookum Chuck, should be transited at slack water because of a 4- to 8-knot current with heavy swirls when the tide is strong. Slack water generally occurs 45 minutes before slack water in Sergius Narrows, but the current tables give more accurate predictions, and except on very long tides no difficulty should be experienced within an hour of slack water.
While the route here indicated is very little used, and so far as the writer knows has not yet been followed by naval vessels, it leads through a veritable fairy land of evergreen hills and islets, and is in some ways far more interesting than the regular track via the more important ports of call. In addition to landing places at the villages of Waterfall, Craig, and Klawak, there are numerous available anchorages, with excellent hunting and fishing.
In concluding these notes, a brief description of a track to Muir Glacier recently re-examined but not yet published should be of interest. It may be explained that a few years ago it was customary for tourist steamers approaching Cape Spencer via Icy Strait to detour some 37 miles into Glacier Bay at Point Gustavus and give their passengers a close-up of the daddy” of all glaciers in Muir Inlet. After the war, this practice was abandoned in favor of shorter side-trips to Taku Glacier by southeastern vessels and Columbia lacier by southwestern vessels, and with the exception of one excursion by the SS. Alaska about 1930, commercial vessels have not since been to Muir Inlet. On Account of increasing navigation difficulties at Taku Glacier, it now seems likely that Muir Glacier will be included in the southeastern itinerary in the near future.
Because of the tendency of strong tides Augmented by the current of a sub-glacial river in Muir Inlet to deposit bowlders in the channel, and also because of the prevalence of large floating bergs, the Coast Pilot discourages navigation of these waters by strangers. However, the U.S.C.G.C. Tallapoosa, in command of lieutenant M. S. Imlay, U.S.C.G., made a fathometer survey of the old track, on June 9, 1936, steering courses furnished by the writer, and found depths ranging from 30 fathoms off Bartlett Cove to 165 fathoms between Plateau and Casement Glaciers. Lieutenant Imlay found that foul ground extends north of the Beardslee slants as far as the northern part of Willoughby Island, and that Muir Glacier itself has receded considerably, exposing tie shore line most of the way around Muir Inlet. This survey makes it possible or a vessel of any draft to proceed with confidence from a point in the “green-tinted” area off Point Gustavus to within miles of Muir Glacier on the following courses and distances: (See U.S.C. & G.S. Chart 8306)
From position with Point Gustavus bearing 52° true, 21° mag., distant 2 miles, steer 341° true, 10 mag., heading on Willoughby Island peak or 9 miles, to southwest point Strawberry Island abeam to starboard, distant 1 1/8 miles.
Thence steer 0° true, 329° mag., heading on North Marble Island, for 5.2 miles to Willoughby Island peak abeam to port, distant 1 mile.
Thence steer 350° true, 319° mag., for 5.2 miles to north end North Marble Island abeam to starboard, distant | mile. (Fox farm will be seen on north part of Willoughby Island.)
Thence steer 358° true, 327° mag., heading on left tangent Muir Inlet for 9.1 miles to midchannel position, point on east shore abeam to starboard, distant f mile. This course leaves Caroline Shoal Islet I mile to port and Garforth Island | mile to starboard.
Thence steer 16° true, 345° mag., heading on right tangent Muir Inlet for 2 miles to north point Adams Glacier Inlet abeam to starboard, distant | mile.
Thence steer 358° true, 327° mag., approximate mid-channel course for 3.6 miles to point off glacier abeam to port, distant J mile.
Thence steer 325° true, 294° mag., for 2.6 miles to islet off Muir Glacier abeam to starboard, distant 5 mile. This islet is 500 yards west of its charted position.
We close with the following description of Muir Inlet received in a letter from Lieutenant Imlay following his visit to the glacier with the Tallapoosa last summer:
The topography of the upper half of Muir Inlet has undergone a drastic change. The glaciers have receded, baring the terrane for a quarter to a half a mile all around the inlet, except in two places, namely, the faces of Muir and a small section of Plateau Glaciers. The island indicated in the north portion of the inlet is about 500 yards to the westward of its plotted position, with a channel on either side. Soundings taken by hand lead showed a least depth of 15 fathoms in the west channel right up to the face of Muir Glacier. The east channel was not so well sounded and showed a 5-fathom mark midway between the island and the bluff promontory to the eastward. The river which flows out from beneath the glacier runs at about 4 to 5 knots and has dangerous swirls several hundred yards from the face of the glacier. It is my opinion that a ship should not approach Muir Glacier closer than an east to west tangent to the south shore of the island, approximately 1½ miles distant from the glacier. Small vessels of good maneuverability can approach right up to the face of the glacier, but should be careful of falling ice. While we were there, an enormous berg broke off from under the surface of the water, leaped 15 to 20 feet in the air, and fell back, causing a tremendous wave.