Alphabet Photography Project | R is for Reflection

Wednesday, January 20, 2016TheCambrians

Alaska Inside Passage Reflections on Cruising

Southeast Alaska | Reflections on a Season Past (Part 1 of 3)

Monday, January 18, 2016TheCambrians

Sailing to Southeast Alaska is the pinnacle of cruising not only for those of us in the Pacific Northwest, but many cruisers world-wide. It’s one of the most stunning places on earth and has found its way on more than one bucket list – for cruisers and landsman alike. And now that the 2015 season is behind us, I thought it would be a good opportunity to reflect on the time we spent in her waters. To do that, I’ve written a total of three blogs: one listing the things we liked about cruising in Alaska, another about the things we didn’t like about cruising in Alaska and this one, the back story, which lays out several factors that impacted our experience and impression of the area – the weather, commercialism and sailing to a schedule.

The Weather

It’s easy to sit here 3,200 miles and six months later and say that it was the most incredible season we’ve ever had: David and I saw and did things while we were there that exceeded our wildest dreams and that we would love to experience again. But that’s not always how we felt. Cruising to Southeast Alaska can be very challenging and is a lot of hard work, which is fine; we knew that before going and signed up for it. But we picked a particularly bad season weather-wise and the work versus reward ration was out of balance for us a lot of the time.

Things started off well. The weather was beautiful in May when we arrived; and when June came around, we found ourselves in a regular pattern with four or five nice days followed by two or three days of unsettled weather. But then July set in and the heavens opened up: Juneau saw record-breaking rainfall, most of it during the last three weeks, and it was even wetter where we were. To put things in perspective, we saw almost as much rain in July, the height of summer, as Seattle did this past December – over 11 inches.

We’re not averse to getting wet. This is the Pacific Northwest and Southeast Alaska is a rainforest, after all. But we went to Alaska for two reasons and two reasons only – the wildlife and the scenery, neither of which was showing its face. There simply weren’t many opportunities to enjoy ourselves, to get out in nature and absorb our surroundings. We knew we wouldn’t be able to go to shore much because of the threat of brown bears, but torrential rain kept us out of our kayaks and trapped below deck for days on end.

Commercialization

It wasn’t just the rain that put a damper on our experience. We found Alaska to be highly commercial. Not only the cruise ships, we were prepared for that. What we didn’t take into account were the hundreds of fishing boat – seiners, gill netters, perseiners, crabbers. And the impact from local tourism – float planes, “un-cruise” ships, charters, whale-watching boats and bear-watching vessels. Just about everywhere we went there was one kind of commercial endeavour or another nearby. It was hardly the remote wilderness experience we were hoping for or had come to expect from years of cruising in northern British Columbia.

Sailing to a Schedule

Another difficultly we encountered was that we had to sail to a schedule, something we try to avoid at all cost. But because we wanted to visit Glacier Bay, it couldn’t be avoided unless we’d arrived early enough in the season to enter the park boundaries before reservations were required (June 1 through August 31). We did try to make it to Alaska sooner but got stuck below Cape Caution for a week waiting out hurricane-force winds. After that, we made the choice to stop off in Ocean Falls to visit friends and linger a few days in places like Bishop Bay Hot Springs (for obvious reasons) and Prince Rupert (because we’d never been). In hindsight, we should have made more of an effort.

It wasn’t just Glacier Bay that required a permit. Visiting Anan Wildlife Observatory did as well. And thanks to some misinformation and a lack of follow-up on my part, we purchased our permit online two months in advance rather than in Wrangell during the week we wanted to go. This put us on another schedule, one that had us sitting around in the rain most of the month of July biding our time until we could go watch the bears fish for salmon. Of course, it wasn’t our intention to sit around; the weather forced that one on us.

And that’s pretty much the back story to our season in Southeast Alaska. I felt it was important to lay the groundwork because, despite the incredible beauty of the “Last Frontier”, the factors I mentioned in this blog made a large impact our experience in a negative way: Some of that was our fault. Some of it was Alaska itself. But most of it was the weather. Simply put, we picked the wrong year to go.

Alaska Inside Passage Notes From the Dockside

Ketchikan is Calling

Friday, January 15, 2016TheCambrians

Ketchikan was calling, but we’re in no hurry to answer. With Anan Wildlife Observatory done and over with, our time in Alaska is basically finished. We still have 95 miles to go before we cross the border into

Canada

but, for all intents and purposes, the “fun” has ended. All we need to do now is put miles under our keel. The funny thing is we aren’t in that big of a rush to leave Alaska. Moving south is always a difficult thing to do, especially for me, because it means summer is almost over and the season is coming to an end.

Tired from a long day of bear watching on Friday, Saturday got off to a somewhat slow start. It was going to be a beautiful, sunny day and the thought of spending it moving rather than in an anchorage where we could enjoy it wasn’t very appealing so, after talking it over with Jim and Laurie, we decided to move over to Frosty Bay where the promise of a large (and entertaining) colony of seals was waiting – a whopping 10 miles from Fool’s Inlet.

We arrived first and JouJou rafted up to us. It was a pretty anchorage, and quiet. A little too quiet in fact – the seals we’d come to see were long gone. Even without the added distraction, I have no idea where the day went, but I know it ended well – with the four of us sitting in Cambria’s cockpit sharing stories and watching the sun paint the sky orange.

Early the next morning, Jim and Laurie dropped their lines and sailed off into Ernest Sound. Good-byes are never easy, even when they’re only temporary, and it felt a little lonely in the anchorage after they left so we upped anchor ourselves and went to nearby Vixen Inlet where we would wait for the next round of weather to move through and for the conditions to improve before making way for Ketchikan – neither one of us interested in repeating our previous experience in Clarence Strait. Little did we know that we would have to wait four days.

They say time and tide wait for no man, but man (at least the one I’m married to) surely waits for the tide . . . and weather. Come Thursday, we got the break we were looking for – one that would carry us to Ketchikan and beyond to Prince Rupert in British Columbia. But we didn’t get started until 11:30 am so we could take advantage of the push down Ernest Sound and Clarence Strait. The conditions were more welcoming this time around (5 knots from behind), so we threw out the jib to give it some air and help move things along a bit . . . a very little bit!

We could see a couple of sailboats miles off in the distance doing the same thing. We slowly gained ground on them as the afternoon wore on, and as we were approaching Tongass Narrows, I pulled the binoculars out. Just as I thought – it was Tom and Gale on Impossible Dream with John on Gypsy Woman leading the way. We pulled into Bar Harbor South within minutes of each other and got together for drinks later that night to compare stories and talk about where we’d been. Once again, we were on completely different tracks: They went on the outside of Baranof Island to Sitka while we went inside and east to Petersburg and, yet, we still managed to arrive in the same place at the same time. What are the odds? They must be pretty good because that makes the eighth time we’ve ended up in the same place as Tom this season.

Friday was non-stop from morning until night. David stayed aboard and changed the oil and installed an AIS receiver that Jim had given him (and walked all over Ketchikan looking for the parts to do it). Gale and I took the bus to Wal-Mart to provision. In the afternoon, there was more shopping, laundry and long, hot showers to take. The day was completed with dinner at McDonald’s to access their free wi-fi and check the weather.

We had an excellent forecast for Saturday – winds out of the northwest increasing to 15 knots with 3-foot seas becoming southeast late. The winds for Sunday were predicted to go light which would be perfect for crossing Dixon Entrance. We were good to go. So, we dropped our lines in the morning and rode the current south. Inside Tongass Narrows, not much was going on. The breeze was calm and the sea was flat, so we motored with the tide into Revillagigedo Channel and that’s when everything changed. The wind was blowing out of the southeast, contrary to the current, and we bashed and crashed like a breeching whale for hours. We were slowed down to 3 or 4 knots and finally gave up when the spray started to come over the dodger, turning off and making way for the nearest safe harbour – Kah Shakes Cove where we would spend our final night in Alaskan waters. So much for NOAA’s northwesterlies!

Note: This blog was written on Saturday, 15 August 2015.

Alphabet Photography Project England Notes From the Dockside

Alphabet Photography Project | Q is for Quay

Wednesday, January 13, 2016TheCambrians

From Oxford Dictionaries:

Quay noun \'kē, 'kā, 'kwā\

A concrete, stone, or metal platform lying alongside or projecting into

water for loading and unloading ships.

Welcome to another installment of the ‘Alphabet Photography Project’ and the letter Q. This week I chose the word “quay” for a couple of reasons: 1) it’s nautical and 2) there’s a story to be told, though not one that goes with the word itself but, rather, the seaport town it’s located in – Whitby, UK.

What’s so special about Whitby?

For a start, it’s home to the ruins of the famous abbey where Bram Stoker was inspired to write “Dracula”. It’s also home to the Magpie Café where people line up daily to taste their world-famous fish & chips (they really are some of the best we’ve ever had). But what makes Whitby truly special, to us anyway, is it’s Cambria’s home port.

You may be wondering why we chose to register our boat in the

and not the

. The answer’s pretty simple: David’s the captain and he’s not a

citizen . . . but we also didn’t want to. Our first choice was actually

New Zealand

, a place we called home for six years. But in order to register Cambria there, we would’ve had to pay import duty and GST. That left

England

: Cambria was built there. VAT had been paid. And both of us appreciated the idea of having a little piece of

England

with us wherever we went.

Neither David nor I are from Whitby, but we didn’t choose it randomly either. Like with most things relating to us, there’s a rhyme or reason behind what we do (though I’m not always sure what that is). David was born in a large industrial town called Middlesbrough in Northern Yorkshire which sits on the bank of the River Tees. The Tees feeds out to the North Sea and is a major port but lacks . . . character. It’s also a bit of a mouthful to say on the radio and not many people, outside of

England

, are familiar with it.

Enter Whitby.

Whitby is only 22 miles southeast of Middlesbrough, making it the closest recreational seaport in the area. Well, that’s not entirely true. Hartlepool is much closer but there’s this whole long story about a monkey being mistaken for a French sailor that disqualified it from the running (though, in hindsight, maybe we should have gone that route). Whitby, on the other hand, is a quaint seaport village with an interesting history that carries a level of gravitas (it also looks good on the stern of the boat).

There’s another reason we gravitated towards Whitby as our home port. Captain James Cook was born in Marton-in-Cleveland in 1728, which is now a suburb of Middlesbrough. His ancestral home was within miles of David’s and even closer to where he went to grammar school. Much of D’s childhood was spent in Cook’s footsteps: playing in the same fields and climbing the same hills. And it was in Whitby that Cook became an apprentice in the Merchant Marines, starting his career on the sea. He’s a legendary figure in the area and was a childhood hero of David’s; our choice was a bit of a tip of the hat to this great mariner . . . and just one more reason to call Whitby “home”.

Alaska Bears Inside Passage

Anan Wildlife Observatory: Bears, Bears and More Bears

Saturday, January 09, 2016TheCambrians

We love bears: Black bears. Brown bears. Big bears. Small bears. It doesn't really matter. As long as they're not too interested in us, we're super-interested in them. So making a trip to Anan Wildlife Observatory to watch them fish for salmon has been on our list of things to do for years. It’s not a park or a zoo. The bears are wild and free to roam wherever they like. They are, however, habituated. The bears who fish in Anan return to the creek year after year and are used to seeing humans. That doesn’t mean they won’t attack if they feel threatened (though none ever have), but they’re not too curious or interested in people . . . just fish. And that’s our kind of bear.

Getting there was half the fun.

Anan is located south of the city of Wrangell, about 70 miles from Petersburg. There are several narrow channels of water where the current can be strong, so timing is important. To make things easier, we split the trip into three parts: Petersburg to December Point, December Point to Madan Bay and Madan Bay to Anan, skipping Wrangell altogether.

We chose Madan Bay for one reason – location. It’s just north of a section of water called The Narrows, where the current can run up to several knots. But it’s a canny anchorage and a really nice place to spend the night. For some reason I didn’t take any pictures of it, not that I can find anyway, and I regret that because we really enjoyed our time there, however short it may have been: We were off again the next morning to take advantage of the push down Blake Channel and to reconnoiter Anan Bay before moving on to our next anchorage, Fool’s Inlet at the southern end of Wrangell Island.

As we were approaching Anan, we heard a call on the VHF from JouJou. Jim and Laurie were able to purchase a permit in Wrangell and were on their way, so we made plans to meet in Fool’s Inlet for the night. Being a few miles closer, we arrived first and dropped anchor behind a small island in the northeast corner of the bay. They arrived shortly afterwards and rafted up to us.

It’s funny. Until we tried it, we were rafting-snobs and found the idea of tying up to another boat at anchor contrary to the whole purpose of cruising – being self-sufficient. But our opinion quickly changed after trying it out ourselves. Not only is it bloody convenient, it can be a lot of fun. In fact, it’s how we met Jim and Laurie in the first place.

The day we’ve been waiting for.

Anan Creek is home to one of the largest salmon runs in Southeast Alaska and attracts a large number of bears, both brown and black. In fact, it’s one of the few places in the world where you can see both feed at the same time (just one more reason to go!). And it was finally our turn to spend the day there.

We left Fool’s Inlet at 7:00 am and made our way over to Anan Bay where we safely anchored the boats (more on that in a separate blog) for the day before taking the dinghies to shore. We checked in with the Forest Service representative who gave us a quick orientation before sending us off on a half-mile boardwalk that leads to an observation deck overlooking the creek and a bear blind. The blind is right off the creek and bears walk underneath it, only inches below your feet, to catch salmon that are stuck in an old fish pen – it’s crazy! But the real action takes place on the other side of the water in one of the best fishing spots.

There was an old black bear hiding out in a cave that would come out every now and again to fish. He reminded me and David of Sally (our dog) and how difficult life can be for a geriatric animal, especially in the wild. The poor old guy had seen better days and it showed: His eyesight wasn’t what it used to be and he panted a lot as he struggled to catch a fish, but he finally got one before going back to his cave . . . we couldn’t help but cheer for him.

It started to get busy around noon with tour groups arriving from Wrangell, so we decided to go to the boats for a break. On our way to the dinghies, there was a juvenille brown male fishing just off the trail. We did as we were instructed (talked loudly to alert him of our presence and stayed on the boardwalk while we continued walking) but, honestly, what I remember most about the experience is the hope that this guy really would be more interested in fish than us and that he’d stay put. Well, he was and he did. But that didn’t stop the adrenile from rushing . . . or my instinct to freeze (but that may have just been an excuse to pull out the camera).

We went back a couple of hours later, after things had quieted down, and had the place to ourselves (along with a Forest Service Interpreter). At first there were three black bears fishing in the creek, but they all disappeared into the bush about the same time. Shortly afterwards, Laurie spotted a brown bear downstream moving toward the falls (where the fish pool). She had three young cubs with her and was very thin . . . and very nervous. The Forest Service gal told us that there were four cubs that morning, but the runt got separated from its mother and was killed by a juvenille male. We watched from the bear blind as the family made their way upstream, the cubs eager for a taste of salmon. Her fishing wasn’t going well and they had to settle for scraps left behind by other bears before Mom rushed them back into the bush . . . and to safety: A larger brown male had come out to fish downstream.

Closing time came all too quickly, and we walked back to the dinghy with the gal from the Forest Service, calling “hey bear” along the way. We saw another grizzly fishing just off the trail but I didn’t feel as nervous this time around, probably because she was carrying a gun (though my instinct again was to stop). We said our thanks and our good-byes and went back to the boats, upped anchor and made way for Fool’s Inlet for the night, JouJou rafting up to us again.

The day had been one big adrenile rush and we had trouble assimilating the experience – I mean, really, who does this? Who goes bear-watching in their spare time? I’m sure there actually are a lot of other people who do, but that doesn’t make it seem any more real. Not for a girl from Kansas and a lad from Yorkshire, anyway. For us, it was an opportunity of a lifetime . . . and well-worth the wait!

Note: This blog was written on Friday, 12 August 2015.

Alphabet Photography Project Desolation Sound Inside Passage

Alphabet Photography Project | P is for Panorama

Wednesday, January 06, 2016TheCambrians

Cambria alone at anchor in one of British Columbia's most popular marine parks - Prideaux Haven.

From the Oxford Dictionary:

Panorama /panə'ramə/

1 An unbroken view of the whole region surrounding an observer: 1.1 A picture

or photograph containing a wide view.

Welcome to another installment of the ‘Alphabet Photography Project’ and the letter P. This week was a little difficult but, as it turns out, they all are. Not because it’s hard to come up with a word that begins with P, or any other letter for that matter, that’s easy. What’s difficult is coming up with just the right photo.

In the end, I opted for ‘panorama’ and a wide-angle look at a pretty rare sight here in the Pacific Northwest: a solitary boat anchored in the hugely popular Prideaux Haven, part of the Desolation Sound Marine Park. And that boat is none other than Cambria. If you’re a regular follower of our blog, you probably already know that David and I generally seek out remote anchorages where we can be completely alone in the wilderness. And if you’ve been fortunate enough to spend time cruising the Inside Passage, you know that Desolation Sound is anything but desolate so it’s a little surprising that we love anchoring there. But we do.

From October through June, things get pretty quiet on the water, even in one of British Columbia’s most popular marine parks, and it’s during these months that we like to spend time there. But one visit stands out above all the rest. It was late-September of 2011 and we came into Prideaux Haven looking forward to getting off the boat and exploring after having spent the previous week holed-up during the first major storm of the season. Not only did we have the anchorage to ourselves (there were other boats that were anchored in Melanie and Laura Coves), but we spent 3 or 4 days following a black bear from our kayaks as he foraged along the shore. It was a pretty special experience and was the beginning of our love affair for bears.

It’s been a few years since we spent any time in Prideaux Haven. Hopefully our morelaid-back approach to the upcoming cruising season will find us there again soon lazing in the kayaks, hiking the trails and (if we’re really lucky) watching bears.

http://www.podcastdove.com/2016/01/07/the-alphabet-project-p-is-for-parenting/

Alaska Inside Passage Petersburg

Velkommen (Back) til Petersburg, Alaska

Monday, January 04, 2016TheCambrians

The Sons of Norway building in Petersburg, Alaska

It’s 2016 and I’m bound and determined (one could say “resolved”) to catch up on the blog. A quick look through the numbers showed that I only posted 62 times last year – a 28% decrease from 2014. And in my last entry, we were anchored in Honeydew Cove, Alaska . . . that was SIX months ago. Aaugh!!! I think it’s time to get serious and finish writing about our last season before we start a new one.

Back to Honeydew Cove . . .

When we arrived in Ketchikan in May, I purchased a permit online to visit Anan Wildlife Observatory south of Wrangell and watch the bears fish for salmon. One of the few remaining dates they had available was August 7^th, only two days out, which means we were back to sailing to a schedule and had to leave Honeydew Cove in dense fog rather than take another day to enjoy ourselves in anchorage we both really liked. But that’s the way it goes on the water – you take what you can get.

With visibility so low, it was a demanding morning spent watching for logs and approaching vessels. The radar did more than its fair share of work thanks to the high amount of opposing traffic on the water – commercial fishing boats heading out in preparation for the next opening in the season. That was good news for us. With the majority of boats out of port, there would be plenty of room at the marina in Petersburg, our eventual destination.

We weren’t able to make it all the way there without battling a head current, so we stopped for the night in Portage Bay just off Frederick Sound. Judging by the chart, it looked like a good place to watch for bears and we were looking forward to discovering a new anchorage. It definitely served its purpose but, overall, was a disappointment. Not only did we not see any bears, it was too windy to take the inflatable kayaks out to explore. Then again, maybe the scenery wasn’t compelling enough to motivate us. Either way, we chose Portage Bay to serve one goal and it did just that . . . nicely.

We upped anchor the next morning at 8 o’clock to time our exit with the strong current that sits at the entrance to the bay. Without the help of northerly winds to push us along, we slowly motored down to Wrangell Narrows and Petersburg, avoiding icebergs along the way. Our first stop was the fuel dock; we were down to only 20 gallons – enough to make another 140 miles but a lot less than we like to carry, especially when we have to depend on the heater to keep us warm.

After filling up with diesel, we took a berth for the night in North Harbor. We’d no sooner than plugged in when I heard someone call David’s name. I just assumed it was the people from the boat next door, they had a David aboard as well. But it was friends of ours from Gig Harbor, Jim and Laurie: With over 26,000 miles of coastline spread out over 35,000 square miles of remote wilderness, a person would be forgiven for believing it’s next to impossible to bump into someone they know. But it’s not. Even in Alaska, where everything’s bigger, it can be a small world on the water.

They extended their stay an extra night and we had dinner aboard Cambria, which always includes a quick jam session. As luck would have it, they had some extra time on their hands before they needed to be back in Ketchikan, so we made plans to meet again on Thursday and go to Anan together the following day.

Jim and Laurie left Petersburg early Tuesday morning to time the current in Wrangell Narrows, and when I say early what I really mean is at the ungodly hour of 4 am. David and I prefer to take a more civilized approach to cruising and left twelve hours later. I think we made a good decision. Not only did we avoid the morning fog, but the tide was moving in our favour. We did pay a small price for our languor, though. A late afternoon departure meant we only got as far as the southern entrance to the narrows before we had to anchor for the night. The rest would just have to wait.

Note: This blog was written on Tuesday, 04 August 2015

Notes From the Dockside Year in Review

Out with the Old, In with the New | Year In Review (Part 2)

Friday, January 01, 2016TheCambrians

Another year has come and gone which means it’s time to reflect upon the last 365 days. Like the ones that came before it, 2015 ended all too quickly. From start to finish, it was a whirlwind of activity full of highs, lows (mostly highs) and big numbers – including over 3,000 miles sailed and 200 days at anchor. Here's the rest of our look back on the year (if you missed the first part, you can read it here):

We Saw Some Amazing Things

The Inside Passage is like a geographical timeline – the further north you travel, the younger and more beautiful the scenery becomes. 2015 brought us all the way to 59°N and the head of Glacier Bay, and every step along the way had something new and amazing to offer. From Misty Fiords National Monument to Endicott and Tracy Arms to Glacier Bay and Anan Wildlife Observatory, sailing to Southeast Alaska gave us an once-in-a-lifetime experience that we won’t soon forget.

We Spent Time on the Water with Friends, both Old and New

We first met Paul and Julia 12 years ago while cruising in

Tonga

and they’ve been stuck with us ever since . . . whether they like it or not. But our lifestyles usually have us on opposite ends of the world:

New Zealand

. Alaska. The South Pacific. The Pacific Northwest. Occasionally, our paths cross. A few times in Opua and Auckland. Once in Newport Beach. Another time in Las Vegas. And in 2015, Juneau. They were able to fly down from Anchorage and spend an extended weekend with us aboard Cambria. It may have only been four days, but they were among the four best of our year!

This year also brought us new friends in the form of Tom, Gale and Tom’s brother, John. We first met Tom when we were still in British Columbia making our way north and found ourselves anchoring in the same places. We parted ways in Ketchikan and bumped into him and Gale five weeks later in Juneau. We ran across each other a total of ten times during the season and had a lot of fun together. Call it coincidence or call it kismet, either way a friendship was formed, one that will hopefully grow over the winter months . . . we moor our boats within a half hour’s drive from each other.

The coincidences didn’t stop there. We arrived in Petersburg minutes before some friends of ours from Gig Harbor we’re getting ready to leave. They changed their plans, stayed an extra night and we ended up buddy-boating for several days after they picked up a permit for Anan Wildlife Observatory in Wrangell. Watching the bears fish for salmon was an amazing experience and sharing it with friends made it all the more so.

What’s Next?

Alaska was always meant to be the icing on our PNW cruising cake and now that we’ve gone, we’re face with a very difficult question: What’s next?

Do we make a run out the Strait of Juan de Fuca and turn left, making our way down the coast to

Mexico

and across the South Pacific back to

New Zealand

where we have residency? Or do we make our way through the Panama Canal, to the Caribbean, over to Bermuda, the Azores, and on to the Mediterranean? We could truck Cambria to the Great Lakes and do the Great Loop and Intracoastal Waterway before crossing the Atlantic – much like harbor-hopping up the West Coast of the

, it’d be great way to see the country. Or, to make it a little more interesting, we could always approach the Great Loop via the Caribbean before crossing the Atlantic, taking the opportunity to see

Mexico

Guatemala

El Salvador

Costa Rica

and

Panama

as we do.

If inland waterways and touring countries from a unique perspective are what we’re looking for, then maybe it’s time to try something completely different and buy a canal boat in

England

. David’s British and still has family there so it’d be a wonderful opportunity for us to spend time with them and to see his homeland, particularly the historical sites.

It’s a big question, one we’re not ready to answer anytime soon (not publicly, anyway). All I can really say is that we plan drop our lines again in May and head north for one last hurrah. How far we go will depend on the wind and the weather: Our resolution for 2016 is to sail more . . . I hope we keep it.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Alphabet Photography Project | R is for Reflection

Southeast Alaska | Reflections on a Season Past (Part 1 of 3)

Ketchikan is Calling

Alphabet Photography Project | Q is for Quay

Quay noun \'kē, 'kā, 'kwā\

Anan Wildlife Observatory: Bears, Bears and More Bears

Alphabet Photography Project | P is for Panorama

Velkommen (Back) til Petersburg, Alaska

Out with the Old, In with the New | Year In Review (Part 2)

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