by Every now and then we all have a windsurfing experience we're likely
to never forget. Today was one of those days for me...I sailed
Alaska's Turnagain Arm this afternoon.
I drove up to the Gorge from San Francisco about a week and a half ago
and spent 4 decent days sailing there before leaving on Saturday night
to head for Alaska. Throughout British Columbia and Alaska there's a
river everywhere you turn, and a few really large lakes. But every
time I spotted one of those beautiful lakes, there wasn't even a
rustle of leaves in the trees. Dead calm.
And today looked like it was going to be more of the same. I headed
out to the Arm early, watched about 10 Beluga whales sail right
through the windsurf area on the outgoing tide, and then watched about
20 of them chasing salmon up the river about 6 hours later on the
incoming. I was about to pack it in when I met up with Dan, a local
sailor who was rigging up and just about ready to go. I asked whether
he minded if I join him to which he replied, "No, come on out!" Dan
was great. He gave me the lowdown on when to sail the Arm, and more
importantly, when not too. When the Belugas blazed right through our
launch area I asked whether they ever caused any problems and he said
"No, not really." Hmmm.
A large part of the adventure is just getting from the road down to
the water. First, you rig up by the road and the schlep...down a steep
slope of boulders and scree about 20 vertical feet to the railroad
tracks, and a small ledge. And then, depending on which end of the
essentially 3 hour window you're hitting it, another 30 to 50 vertical
feet of bigger boulders. I made the rookie mistake of trying to carry
everything all at once, pretty much slid on my ***all the way down
the first slope while holding gear aloft the best I could. At the
railroad tracks, it wasn't obvious to me where the path of least
resistance (or steepness) to the water was and I managed to get myself
pinned between a couple of boulders before I finally unwedged myself
and got to the water.
Since it was about an hour before high tide, Dan and I figured we had
maybe an hour to sail before the second largest tidal swing on Earth
kicked in and started carrying everything in its path out to the Cook
Inlet. I launched right in as fast as I could with a 5.4 and 107 liter
freestyle board.
First impression...the water's not that cold. In fact, it's not even
as cold as Crissy Field. I swear. NOAA reported 57 degrees at
Anchorage. This launch is about 10 miles up Turnagain Arm from there
so I'm guessing it might be a bit warmer, but then again with the
astonishing volume of water that runs through, there's a pretty big
flush--so let's just say the water temperature was 57 degrees. Felt
about like that anyway. And the sky was partly sunny and the air
temperature easily in the 60s if not low 70s, so the temperature
really wasn't a factor. Dan surmises that all that silt serves to
absorb the sun's rays. Sounds as plausible as anything to me.
Second impression...the water is the siltiest I've ever sailed. A
greyish brown color with a visibility of zero. All you 3rd Avenue
sailors know about low visibility in muddy brown water. Well this
water is like syrup compared to 3rd.
Third impression...I was, for the most part, comfortably if lightly
powered on the 5.4 today. The ups and downs ramped slowly, so rather
than calling it gusty, I'd say it was up and down. And with wind that
light, the water was almost dead flat! I couldn't believe it, the
water was so flat it made for nice conditions to try to launch a
Spock, except for the fact that the current already seemed to be
slack, if not starting to reverse. Further out into the Arm, there was
clean, rolling swell that reminded me of a light day at 3rd Ave or The
Wall.
At this point, my mind was racing with thoughts of the current
reversal. When the flood switches to ebb at Crissy it can churn up
some vicious chop. And just like at Crissy I was keenly keeping an eye
out for traffic. Except for this time it wasn't ocean freighters
carrying bazillions of containers full of Hyundais, instead it was
those two schools of Beluga whales that just 5 minutes before had
passed right through the launch area. But quickly, my mind eased. It
was just windsurfing, but it was awesome. Looking toward shore on
either side of the Arm reminded me of the Gorge, with snowcapped
peaks, but the scale here is far more massive. And the water quality,
well, was very 3rd Avenue-like, only murkier. And instead of seals,
sea lions, and freighters at Crissy, my number one concern here was
those Belugas. As it turns out, they stayed up in the Arm chasing
salmon the rest of the afternoon.
My thanks go to Dan, a super-friendly Alaskan sailor who was patient
enough to explain the ins and outs, and another local sailor named
Dave who showed up late and didn't sail, but was fun to talk to after
the session. Dan and I swapped phone numbers, hoping to sail together
again, and he also gave me the number of their little "hotline", set
up by a guy who watches the wind and puts messages up so this
community of sailors can meet up and sail together.
Tomorrow I'll try to sail again, then it's off down the Kenai
Peninsula where I hope to sail Kenai Lake. Evidently there's a fairly
reliable afternoon thermal there and a really nice easy rigging and
launch.
I'll keep you posted,
Mark Paine