explore:NW Spring 2020 explorenw_fall19 | Page 58

When the ocean is your grocery store, meal planning consists of salmon, shrimp and Dunge- ness crabs. Not a bad way to go. can add a licensed skipper—sometimes optional, sometimes not depending on each tugfitter. The upside is that captain’s for hire take the worry, work and uncertainty out of the adventure, prevent sudden rocky stops, chart the here-to-there navigation, keep track of fishing laws, and explain what you’re looking at along the way. Reach a little deeper and some Southeast tugfitter services will provision the package. Our tug comes with a licensed skip- per, David Carnes, and all the carefree vagabonding that comes with having him on the bridge. Nothing left for us to do but eat, fish, oooh, ahhh, nap and do it all again for several days of over-the-top, bucket-list indulgence. We’re two-days into a multi-day adventure south of Juneau when the wind slams us sideways while docking at Taku Harbor Marine Park, sends the big displacement boat windsailing in the wrong direction, the passengers scrambling and Captain David earning his keep. Just part of the adventure and that’s what this is; a modern Alaskan adven- ture—four guys in a upscale Nordic tug 56 explore: NW | The Official Magazine for kenmore air | Spring 2019 with 500 gallons of fuel, days to wander with rods, reels, pots, traps, crab boiler, hard-bottom inflatables and kayaks. Flop when you want in staterooms with polished teak, dark blue leather setae, three-burner stove, BBQ grill, micro- wave, and enjoy the best fish-finding, rock dodging, bottom-reading electron- ics out there. Four guys dressed down, geared up and turned loose to wander around Southeast pin-balling from one superla- tive to the next. When you finally reach the point where you need to reach into the bucket and pull out THE list, this could be on it. I had been hungering to Tug since seeing a chartered rental tug anchored by its lonesome, in a spectacular cove deep inside Glacier Bay National Park. Two guys were on the starboard railing jigging for dinner—halibut probably, or ling cod or rockfish or …? Smoke curled from a grill on the aft deck. A third guy was just a lump in a hammock soaking up sun. Sea otters floated past. The place was full of whales—humpbacks, minkes, killers. Mountain goats above the boat. A few years later, a couple of Boeing 737-hours north from Seattle and a shuttle down Egan Drive we find the MV/Legend moored in Aurora Basin, one of four full-blown work-boat marinas in this waterfront town, possibly America’s most abnormal capital city. A fittingly adventurous place to launch adventure extraordinaire. Not only is Juneau—surprise—the biggest town in America, but Wyatt (OK Corral) Earp’s Smith & Wesson incon- gruously hangs in the Red Dog Saloon down on Franklin Street. How it got there is a good story. Ask. The water side of the business district ends in a tidal channel that fills with seasonal runs of salmon from one of the largest hatcheries in the state. Strikes me as more of a fish town than the legislative heartbeat of America’s biggest state. The capital is cut-off from not only 99 percent of the state that it rules but from the rest of the continent, by a wall—one constructed by nature not campaign sloganism. The Juneau barrier is a massive ice field 1,500 square miles of prehistoric ice 790 to 4,590 feet deep. Fly, boat or don’t come. With just 32,000 workaday resi- dents Juneau also has the implausible distinction of being America’s second largest city. City limit signs are sepa- rated by 3,254 square miles; mostly an unoccupied puzzle of saltwater, forests and islands. Every summer day 15,000 tourists disgorge from six cruise ships into the bauble and tee shirt district. Ten minutes after our rented escape clears Gastineau Channel not one of those 15,000 is in sight. We’re on our own, slow-boating south at 9.5 knots, toasting adventure, lighting cigars and grinning. Ahead is a maze of islands, channels and who know what Alaskan adventures in a land and water jigsaw puzzle 90 miles wide and 250 miles long. Twenty miles later, maybe less, down Stephen’s Pass we slip behind brown- bear infested Admiralty Island, cross the wide mouth of Taku Inlet, round Butler Point and set up a silver troll along a steep shoreline. Perfect sculptures slide past, blue ice bergs smooth, and dimpled with sun scallops. Twin seal pups ride on one. A humpback whale surfaces, blows and rolls behind a jam of bergs in a little bay. A ragged rock pile shouts ling cod and begs to be fished, but there’s better ahead. Fords Terror, Tracy Arm, Snettisham, Sumdum are in the distance, for tomor- row, maybe the next day. No rush. No