The Kenai Coast

 The more we discovered about the Kenai Fjords coast the better it looked and the more we were looking forward to it. Remote, wild and with a few challenges thrown in, such as rounding Gore Point and its infamous rips, just to add a little excitement. 

The anticipation went up a notch or ten when on leaving Prince William Sound on the ferry to Homer we had amazing views of the coast stretching out to the west, backlit in the evening light. It was remarkably reminiscent of the South West Coast of Tasmania, looking west from SE Cape. Row upon row of headlands and mountains stretching into the haze, but bigger, much bigger, craggier too with glaciers. It was a spectacular sight. 

Meanwhile the weather stayed remarkably settled, hot even, though once we had stocked up with food in Homer and packed it all away ready to leave the next morning we were seeking shelter from the cool southerly sea breeze. 

A lot of the local knowledge we had gathered about the coast had been from paddlers on the local 'Eddylist' sea kayak email list. Matt had been in email contact quite a bit and wanted to meet up so on our second night at Homer Spit we joined him and his partner Alison for wood fired pizza and beer and talked kayaking and the Kenai Fjords all evening.

It was again fantastic to meet yet more hospitable and friendly locals and hear their stories of paddling adventures. 

The Homer Spit campground is right on the beach so launching the next morning was fairly straight forward, despite the ebbing tide and a fairly long carry to the water's edge. Surprisingly it only took us a little over two hours from waking to paddling away; usually packing everything in the boat after a resupply can be one hell of a wrangle.

The ebbing tide drew us across Kachemak Bay and then along the coast towards Seldovia. It felt great to be back in the boat and paddling again after an eight day break! The weather had held too; so hot we were soon unzipping our drysuits before we 'boiled in the bag'. 

The healthy SWesterly breeze had built up again like yesterday so we had an extended lunch break near Seldovia until it died away a little. The tide had turned now though so we had a little bit of current against us. Despite this we made reasonably good time and found a great spot to camp on the southern side of 'Dangerous' Cape. It wasn't. 

The weather wasn't so kind the next day, overcast and a lot cooler but the ebb tide again pushed us along towards the Chugach Islands and we made good progress to Chrome Bay for lunch. There had been a vain hope to get to Chugach Passage where the northerly flood can reach 2.5knots before the tide changed. We didn't, but by staying in really close to the western shore the current wasn't too bad; in fact counter eddies gave us a favourable current some of the time. The day though had turned pretty grim, a strong southerly head wind had built up by now and we had pogies or gloves on to keep our hands warm. The odd gust reached 20 knots plus, almost bringing us to a stand still.

Always hopeful, I thought if the wind stays in this direction once we get out of Chugach Passage and turn east between Perl Is and the mainland we might just get a sail up. It wasn't to be, as when we turned east, so too did the wind and the opposing flooding tide from the east was strengthing. It was an afternoon when we were very glad that we'd put over a 1000km into our shoulders and upper bodies over the last few weeks AND that we'd just had lunch. There was nowhere to land so we had no real choice but to plug slowly on. The current was fierce, and just off a little headland it was pouring between the offshore rocks like a river, so strongly we were barely making headway against it and the wind. "This is getting silly" I was thinking, we have to find somewhere to stop.

Lynne had spotted a little bay on the map a couple of kms ahead so we plodded slowly on. Oh, thank goodness a beach. We landed with a sigh of relief, unloaded some gear from the kayak, dragged it up the shingle and ducked into the trees for shelter. We both had only just been warm enough on the water so we put on extra layers and zipped ourselves back into our 'suits of armour' and as it was still early afternoon we settled in to wait. If the wind dropped enough we'd carry on. Soup was made then Lynne went for a walk along the beach and I got my book out. 

By 5 o'clock the wind was as strong as ever and we were getting a bit chilly waiting around so we settled in for the night. Down on the beach nearby, a cautious wolf approached to search the latest high tide's offerings, but it sniffed and peered our way, then trotted nervously back into the fringes of the lagoon behind the beach.

Despite the forecast winds it was common for it to be totally calm in the mornings so we were on the water the next morning at about 7. No wind but a cool overcast day so we had both put extra thermals on anticipating a repeat of yesterday's weather. The coastline was spectacular, steep mountainsides dropping straight into the water, the tree line only a few hundred feet above sea level so the vista of snow clad rocky peaks was quite different to the thickly forested mountains we have become familiar with. 

Ever so slowly, as the morning progressed the clouds thinned and started to break up and the day warmed up quickly. By lunchtime the sky was almost cloudless, there wasn't a breath of wind and it was hot. What had started as looking like another grim day had turned out to be an absolute pearler. To further add to the morning's paddle we had a close encounter with two humpback whales surfacing and blowing twice just meters off the bow of the kayak. 

We were both paddling strongly and feeling really good today for some reason so the kms slipped past effortlessly, by 2.30 we reached Ranger Beach our campsite for the night and closest landing point for rounding Gore Point 5km away. 

Rounding the Point is one of cruxes of the Kenai Coast, jutting way into the Gulf of Alaska it catches and accelerates the substantial tidal flows along the coast. We had planned to overnight at Ranger Beach and round the Point at low water slack the next morning. With perfect weather, perfect sea conditions and perfect lucky timing with high water slack at 4.50 that afternoon, the decision to continue around the Point that day was an easy one. Although a lazy afternoon in the sun and late start in the morning were tempting we couldn't waste such perfect conditions despite the next landing spot on the eastern side being about 20 km away. 

With an hour or so to kill before we had to leave for the Point we had plenty of time for a rest, a feed and a short walk over to Isthmus Beach on the eastern side of the Gore Peninsular. We had read about large piles of driftwood on this beach exposed to the prevailing easterly winds and currents. 'Large piles' though does not even come close to describing the incredible number of logs piled up by countless storms over a countless number of years. The pile of jumbled logs stretched the length of the beach, approx 800m and was at least 10m wide and 5m deep. I reckon it would have been enough timber to keep the whole of greater Hobart in firewood for at least one winter probably two. 

The 5km to Gore Point went quickly so we were soon bobbing gently in hot sun only metres from the rocks of the Point not quite believing our luck for being able to round it in such ideal conditions. 

The next landing spot, Tonsina Bay on the eastern side of the Point was still a long way away so the southerly breeze that picked up as we headed north was extremely welcome. With both sails up we sped across Gore Bight and then along the rocky shoreline to where we lost the wind as the coast turned west. 

Entering Tonsina Bay we both spotted what looked like a dead sea otter but when we got with a metre or so the ball of fur exploded into a mewing baby otter. It swam away from us with a 'butterfly stroke' swimming action of its body but didn't dive. 

Both in SE and along the Kenai Coast we had seen lots of otters but not surprisingly as they had been hunted mercilessly almost to extinction for their fur through the 18th and 19th Centuries they were very shy. We'd rarely get within 25m of them before they would dive. We learned later the mothers leave their young bobbing around on the surface, as they are not able to dive, while they are searching for food. The definition of cute - baby otters. 

It was a relief to land at the end of a long day, exactly 12 hours from getting on the water in the morning. 

The next morning dawned hot, sunny and clear, but as we had made such good progress the day before, we had a lie in and slowly packed the boat in glorious hot sunshine. North through Nuka Passage and across to Harrington Point at the entrance to McCarty Fjord where we came across a National Park Service boat out from Seward for a week looking for peregrine falcons that been reported to be nesting in the area.

 

The McCarty Glacier at the head of the fjord was our first opportunity to visit a tidewater glacier but as it was 35km to the ice from Harrington Point we decided it was a bit too far to go when the next major fjord to the east, Northwestern Fjord, promised numerous easily accessible tidewater glaciers and had been recommended to us as the most spectacular fjord on the coast.

 

The settled weather continued the next day, from McCarty Lagoon south and then east through McArthur Passage and back out to head NE along the spectacular outer coast with its massive cliffs, coves and offshore rocks.  

Stopping for lunch in Thunder Bay, Lynne wandered off looking for water and spotted our third black bear of the trip. Deciding it was far enough away that if we didn't bother it, it wouldn't bother us we continued with lunch. Like most of the last week it was quite hot in the sun so the bear had wandered over to a large snow patch at the bottom of a gully and was lying spreadeagled on the snow, cooling off we presumed. Every time we peaked over the back of the beach to keep an eye on it, its only movements were more wallowing around in the snow. We thought we had trouble keeping cool in our kayaking gear, but a thick black furry coat would be far worse. 

Camp that night was at Cup Cove, a lovely spot, thanks Matt for the recommendation!

As we crossed the moraine bar and headed further into Northwestern Fjord the mountains closed in around us, the ice polished granite cliffs dropping straight into the water got higher and we could see our first bits of floating ice calved from the tidewater glaciers that now seemed to surround us. 

We were headed for Redstone Beach, only about 2.5km from the massive and very active face of the Northwestern Glacier itself. Every few minutes there was the rumble and thunder of crashing ice from one of many ice falls and glaciers surrounding us. The feeling of massive primeval power was overwhelming. 

Having scoped out a place for the tent and had lunch we were just getting ready to explore up towards the glacier when we noticed another group of kayakers. They hadn't passed us so they must have been further up the fjord when we'd arrived at the beach. 

We paddled over for a chat as this was only the second group of kayakers we'd come across on our whole trip. The first group we had met on the Khaz Peninsular north of Sitka and we were then greeted by an Australian from Darwin. Would you believe it but the first person to wander down to the waters edge from this group was from Canberra!

These paddlers were a group of friends from San Francisco who had hired the boats and a guide for a four day trip in Northwestern Fjord. 

We spent well over an hour drifting and paddling around the head of the fjord, keeping a healthy distance from the active face of Northwestern Glacier. It was quite a novelty trying to paddle through the thick accumulation of granular brash ice mixed in with larger chunks that if hit would stop the boat dead. Hot sun, glistening ice and surrounded by mountains ... it was quite an experience. 

Reluctantly we headed south out of Northwestern Fjord the next day but as it was an overcast grey day and we'd seen it sparkling the day before it wasn't that hard to continue our journey. Just getting off the beach though was the first hurdle - the flooding tide and light breeze had shepherded all the brash ice and bergy bits to our shore, so it was necessary to clear a route through the icy boulders to open water. Dozens of harbour seals lay about on their own little ice floes!

The journey came to a premature end that day though. As we headed out of the fjord I was suddenly aware that my bum was really cold, I knew immediately that we were leaking and I was sitting in half a cockpit full of water. Bugger, but not surprising really given the hard time the kayak gets being dragged up and down beaches and bashed on rocks. 

We returned to a spot at the entrance to the fjord where we had collected water on our way north and we knew there was camping to settle in and get the repair kit out. Of course, as it does, pretty much as soon as we arrived it started raining, perfect weather for fibreglassing - not. 

If I needed another reason to be thankful for having a free standing tent, it was now. With the inner removed, the pitched fly was placed over the upturned kayak and we had a dry(ish) workshop. 

A few days before as we had left McArthur Passage and looked east, Granite Island's high pale white granite cliffs had shone spectacularly in the light beckoning us to paddle its western side. Landing spots are few and far between in this part of the world with very few beaches let alone sheltered ones, and a predominately very rocky shoreline.

Our next safe landing was Verdant Cove on the eastern side of Aligo Point over 20km away by the shortest route but the day was good. It was settled and calm so from our campsite workshop at Rampart Rock we decided to paddle the western coast of Granite Island and then head east to Matushka Is and Beehive Is. These islands belong to the Harbour and Chiswell groups of Islands, which are protected as part of the Alaskan National Marine Wildlife Refuge. The Chiswell group are home to the endangered Stellar sea lions and the Harbour group are renowned rookeries for many seabird species. Beehive Island and adjacent stacks have a population of 34,000 puffins alone. 

As off Gore Point, we bobbed around off the southern tip of Granite Island taking pictures in the sun before crossing the 8km to Matushka Is and then the busy skies around Beehive Is full of thousands of whirling kittiwakes, horned and tufted puffins.

A pee stop and a wee bit more kayak abuse as we clambered out of the kayak onto the rocks just inside Pete's Pass and on to Verdant Cove via the west coast of Harbour Island. 

Verdant Cove was to be our home for the next day as it blew strongly from the east, our first full day off the water due to weather. It was easy camping too, with bear proof food lockers provided, no buggering around finding the right tree and hanging our food. Between dozing, reading, writing, eating and listening to podcasts, the day went quickly. It even stopped raining later in the afternoon.

Again due to the paucity of landing spots once we left Verdant Cove we had a committing 35km or so around Aialik Cape to Bulldog Cove, though given the calm seas it would be likely that we'd get ashore to visit the restroom in coves sheltered from the swell. A cruisey five hours or so including a brief clamber into the rocks for a wee in Agnes Cove and we were pulling into Bulldog Cove for lunch. 

A gentle southerly breeze, although 15kn easterlies had been forecast, gave us extra speed with both sails up of course, to pull in to North Beach at Caines Head at 4.45. 

There were other campers and we were within sight and mobile range of Seward, so I guess that was the end of our Kenai Coast paddle. 

It was a paddle that well and truly lived up to expectations; ten paddling days that will always stay in our minds as one the best stretches of coast we've paddled. 

So here we are in the launderette giving our clothes the same treatment that we've just given our bodies, oh bliss. We're settled into a cosy room at the hostel for two nights, 30knot easterlies forecast tomorrow and I've discovered Seward has its own brewery. 

Bumblebees and blue jays - summer is in full swing!