Snettisham 2009-1

Snettisham 2009 - 6: Beyond the Point
July 10 - 12

Kellee kayaking

Back from Portland for a visit, Kellee was joining me for a weekend at Snettisham and the phenomenal summer weather we'd had since she arrived looked to hold through the weekend. Having prepared the cabin floors for painting during the previous trip, I was anxious to finish the job and, although I planned to relax and adventure with Kellee, I did want to finish those floors. I figured it wouldn't take more than a few hours; the trick was that we had to do it on Friday, as the paint takes more than 24 hours to dry and we wouldn't have time to put the furniture back in the cabins on Sunday if we didn't paint until Saturday. Kellee was kind enough to come back from a night at John Muir Cabin in the morning to get underway in the early afternoon. I left work at 11:00 am and finished packing while Kellee got ready, then we took off for Douglas Harbor. Kellee is allergic to brewer's yeast, so in lieu of leaving-the-harbor beers we indulged in shots of scotch from my canteen. The weather was spectacularly sunny, but the west wind was a little troubling. Going down the channel was choppy but tolerable and I was heartened by the light line in the water ahead of us. As we passed Marmion Island we encountered a 2-3 foot swell traveling down Stephen's Passage; it was a little unnerving at times, but we were mostly broadside to it so it was relatively comfortable. As we passed Pt. Arden we left the seas behind us and it was virtually flat the rest of the way.

When we reached Port Snettisham we saw ice bergs near my parent's other property at the entrance to the Port on the south side. We buzzed over there and cruised around a gorgeous blue ice berg dripping into the water; it even released a miniature greenish tinged "shooter" as we sat there, warning us to keep our distance. A few other small ice bergs were also nearby and we picked up a tiny one and put it in the cooler. The video to left is by Kellee. We also buzzed by the world's perfect eagle's nest which, true to its name, was not only visible, but the two adults perched together nearby (see photo below). Even with the stop, we made it to the homestead at 3.30, two hours after we left the harbor. After anchoring the boat, turning on the water, and getting the pilots lit on the propane range, I was ready to start work.

Kellee had had only had four hours of sleep the night before, though, so she was interested in taking a nap on the comfy couch. First she helped me move the two beds out of the first two cabins, then retreated to the lodge while I moved everything else out of all four cabins. It had been hot and sunny for over a week so everything was dry and I didn't hesitate to move things out onto the forest floor as well as onto the decks. Once everything was out I scraped over the filling that I'd placed in the cracks in the floor a few weeks before to get rid of the big bumps, then sanded them until they were relatively smooth. After I did this in each cabin I swept again very thoroughly. This wasn't much fun, but the floors looked great afterward. I had a garage floor paint kit that had overwintered at the lodge and was pleased to find that it seemed in good shape when I opened it up (not all paint overwinters well). I poured the two parts together, mixed them thoroughly with a stick, and then had to let them sit for half an hour. With some time to spare, I decided I'd see if I could paint the front plywood panels of the lodge's outhouse. I'd painted them the previous summer (or was it two summers ago?) but it had rained that night and washed most of it off. I was happy to find that the paint was in excellent shape, and managed to finish painting the two skinny panels on either side of the door just as the garage floor paint was ready to go. I painted along the walls of Cottonwood Cabin with a brush, then started rolling the floor. While I was painting I'm pretty sure I heard a whale blow in the inlet, but was too intent on working to verify. I was hoping that each gallon of paint would cover two cabins,

and I was a bit worried at how much the floor was soaking up. When I finished I had a little less than half the gallon, but I decided to go for it anyway. I walked everything down to the third cabin and repeated the process and had just enough paint to cover it. I was smarter this time and mixed the second gallon of paint while I finished off the first gallon, so it was ready as soon as I finished. Mink Cabin and Hermit Thrush both got gray paint (it was all Valley Paint had in stock). I only had a short roller, so by the time I was done with all four cabins my back was aching and I was pretty exhausted. I left most of the painting supplies scattered around the cabins where I'd finished with them and headed back to the lodge.

Kellee and I drank wine and ate rice pasta and zucchini for dinner. The evening was gorgeous, so we braved the mosquitoes (which have enjoyed the weather too) and stood outside on the deck for a while. There I heard some rustling in the grass nearby. When I heard it a second time I was sure it was a toad. I resisted for a little while, but eventually I couldn't take it anymore and plunged my hand down into the grass to pull out the toad in what I'd like to think was Steve Irwin fashion. I love toads. This gorgeous fellow peed on my hand, then we took a couple photos and released him. Shortly thereafter we went back inside and got ready for bed. Since all the cabins had wet floors, Kellee and I camped out in the lodge, she on the couch and myself on a cot by the wood stove. After dark I made my way to the outhouse one last time and on the way back heard more rustling on the forest floor. This time I decided to attempt a few natural photos of a toad, so Kellee brought me my camera and I snapped a bunch of pictures while following this toad around. I'm amazed at how these toads can crawl around the uneven and often dense forest and meadows. He was perfectly camouflaged against tree bark except for the white stripe down his back.

Leaving the harbor	Frog iceberg--portent of things to come?	World's perfect eagle nest
Cottonwood Cabin's contents	Toad wrangling	Can you find the toad?

After an exhausting couple of weeks I managed to sleep until ten the next morning. After breakfast, Kellee and I did a COASST survey at low tide and, though the walk was lovely, we found no dead seabirds. When we arrived back at the lodge, she explored the property a bit while I started thinking about how to construct a deck to connect the new deck to the bottom of the stairs. I'd built the new deck with the intent for it to be level with the bottom step of the stairs, but I hadn't checked to see if it worked. I took the level out and spanned the distance, held my breath and took a look at the bubble; it could not have been more perfectly level, the bubble exactly between the two lines. I was fairly pleased with myself. As for how to construct the connecting section of deck, there were several options. I thought each one through and decided on a plan that would be the simplest to construct with existing materials and the existing foundations. I decided to span the distance between the new deck and the stairs with three joists, then nail a joist below the bottom step (to the ends of the stringer), then have two more joists that went out an additional two feet beyond the bottom step. The only foundation work this required was one small post under the stairs at the back (where the stairs were too high off the ground to attach directly to the stair stringers) and the outside corner off the stairs which would support a 4x4 stringer connecting to the stairs to support the final two joists. It took a great deal of concerted thinking to get it working. I dug a shallow foundation for the post under the stairs and leveled a flat rock there for the post to rest on and began digging a foundation hole for the other corner before we broke for lunch.

After lunch the tide was high and we took off for a kayak upriver. Conditions were a bit windy on the river with a stiff west wind blowing in from Gilbert Bay that we fought a bit. I was worried we'd have to fight it much more on the way back. As it turned out, we followed what I think is the ideal afternoon kayak route (upriver anyway) and the wind didn't trouble us again. We crossed to the far shore (disrupting a brace of mergansers that headed in both directions along the shore away from us), then leisurely paddled upriver along the rocks, paying attention to the grooves worn by glacial activity. The water was full of merganser feathers. We reached the bottom of the big avalanche slide and noticed several big rocks that looked ideal for picnics and paddled along its three waterfalls, each one more impressive than the previous. Shortly beyond the avalanche we found a gorgeous, modest white sand beach and just beyond that the big sandy, grassy beach that reaches toward Whiting Point (the big right bend in the river). We paddled along the edge of the grass (it was high tide so there was very little beach exposed) and then beyond it. Both Kellee and I had, independently, walked along this beach previously, but had not ventured beyond. It turns out that the beach ends well before Whiting Point, separated by a section of rocks. Just downstream of the point is another sandy/muddy beach in the lee of the rocks. Whiting Point juts into the river at an almost 90 degree angle from the upriver direction of flow, so the current hits it at great speed and is diverted across the river to the far side where it turns and heads back across the river at Ox Point. Thus, the area below the point developed in a relatively current-free zone that facilitated creation of the beach. The one time I went around the point in the

Ronquil I saw that the water depth where the current was fastest was 25 feet (when the deep channel nearby was only four or five feet). Kellee and I beached the kayaks and explored the point, covered in the tracks of three species of mammals as well as eagle and other bird tracks and lots of scat. We walked up onto the licheny rocks of the point and gazed upriver for the first time (well, the first time from land for me). It was pretty exciting, and the river is beautiful, like a miniature Taku. It seemed to disappear around another point to the left in the distance. Flowers bloomed on the rocks and I watched a bumblebee crawling around on one (see photo below). I also saw several salmon eggs dried to the rocks and quite a bit of eagle down here and there.

Kellee and I explored a bit more, then climbed back into our kayaks. We thought we'd paddle up into the current and the eddy actually carried us upriver toward it. We paddled into the exciting, choppy current and were swiftly carried into the middle of the river. There the water calmed, but continued to carry us effortlessly across. At least one seal seemed to be playing in the current, sometimes riding it backwards. On the far side of the river above Ox Point is a long stretch of grassy meadows full of wildflowers. We passed by the lowest section of it, a wetter meadow in front of Nigel Falls, which runs down another avalanche chute. Kellee and I were going to step ashore, but happened to come across a slough and paddled in there instead. It narrowed up quickly until it was barely a kayak's width, but we went in until a log obstructed the path, the grass hanging over our heads.

We backed out and decided to continue drifting downriver along the rocks, in part because the insects were vicious. I thought I'd escape them by paddling quickly, but encountered them lurking over the river as well. Thank goodness for deet! The shoreline on the north side of the river is pretty spectacular, gorgeous rocks grooved by glaciers, hidden cliffs, flowers and alders overhanging the shore, little waterfalls, and looming forests full of singing hermit thrushes. The wind had died and the ride downriver was serene and lovely. The grassy point upriver from the homestead where I start the COASST surveys was flooded with the tide and we kayaked through the middle of the grass there. The Whiting Point video and one of the drifting kayaking videos here are by Kellee.

By the time we returned to the homestead, the kayaks were full of water. This summer some of the hulls have been filling up--one of them has some bear bites in it, but I'm not sure why the others are leaking. We had to take off the lid to the hulls and dump the water out before we could drag them up the beach. That evening Kellee and I moved all the furniture back into the cabins. In the hot weather, it had taken very little time at all to dry the cabin floors after all! They all looked great, although they could probably use a second coat of paint in the future. I took this opportunity to tidy them up a bit, removing extraneous items. On the way back I grabbed the old floor of the generator shelter I build ages ago (which I'd tried briefly to use as a step in the middle of the freshet) so we could burn it and finally get rid of it. After supper we built a little bonfire outside, enduring the bugs until the fire could help keep them at bay. I smoked a sweet cigar and we roasted a few marshmallows and ate dark chocolate. I realized afterwards that we'd violated Juneau's burn ban (a rare restriction in the Southeast Alaska rain forest). Thankfully, we burnt nothing down, and doused the fire thoroughly with water from the bucket that catches drips from my water filtration system behind the lodge. Since we were already set up to sleep in the lodge and it was dark by the time we retired, we didn't make use of the cabins again that night.

Resting on the COAAST survey	The Ronquil at anchor (low tide; Kellee's photo)	Kellee (lodge in background)
Nigel (Kellee's photo)	The before picture	The creek (Kellee's photo)
Curious harbor seal	Kayaking	The biggest avalanche waterfall
Bumblebee	Shooting star (Kellee's photo)	Investigating scat (Kellee's photo)
Kellee and a track (Kellee's photo)	Us (Kellee's photo)	Kellee drifting in the current
Kayaking in the slough (Kellee's photo)	Scenic shore	Kayaking over the grassy point

The next morning Kellee and I had instant oatmeal for breakfast, then Kellee helped me cut all the pieces of lumber I needed to finish the foundation for the connecting deck. Kellee enjoyed the sunshine and the last day of her vacation while I continued working, determined to get the foundation complete at least and the decking laid down before we had to go. It took about twice as long to finish as I expected, but we weren't in any hurry. Foundation work is wonderful in the

sunshine. Earlier I'd uncovered the stack of extra lumber nearby and pulled out (with some struggle) a 2x6 and a long 2x4, which helped determine how I was going to put the foundation together. The span between the deck and the stairs was only about four feet, so I used the 2x4 for the three joists there. The 2x6 I used for support between the deck and along the bottom of the stair stringers and used 2x8s for the two eight foot spans between the deck and the new 4x4 stringer I was going to put in front of the stairs. Because the existing deck and the stair stringers weren't tall enough to attach something to them directly on which to support the joists, I used joist hangers. This worked for all of them except the first 2x4 joist (which rests on the small foundation post I placed on the rock beneath the stairs) and the two ends of the 2x8s which rest on the new 4x4 stringer.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Once I'd cut all the pieces I treated the ends with Jabsco, then Kellee and I took a walk up to the water source. I'd noticed that the water pressure was low and Kellee wanted to check it out. We hiked up, gingerly brushing aside the myriad devil's club (this is one trail I have not maintained this year). With all the fine weather and the snow pack diminishing, the water level in the creek was low and it looked like the water barrel was probably not low enough in the creek to collect water. I maneuvered it out (light now because there was no water in it), then excavated its hollow with my feet for some time, shoving mounds of shale gravel downstream. Eventually, I

placed the olive barrel back in and tucked rocks around it and over it to help prevent it from rising up. Water pressure increased immediately back at the lodge, so I knew it was functional again.

Back at the lodge I finished the foundation. The whole system was calculated, of course, to make sure that each joist supported a level deck. Unfortunately, I struggled a bit with the 4x4 stringer connecting the foundation post (which was attached to the last concrete pier block) and the stairs due to the fact that I was going to use two different sized joists. At first I thought it was going to perfectly rest on the top of the pier block that supports the stair stringer, but when I remeasured it was just a little too far off. I finally got it to the acceptable height, adding a little extra support beneath it, when I suddenly decided that I'd completely miscalculated. I remembered that I was going to use a 2x6 there instead of a 2x8, so I removed the whole structure and started over again, increasing the height of the stringer by two inches so it would support a 2x6, which required adding dirt back to the foundation hole and adding support beneath the stringer. You can imagine I was pretty grumpy when I realized that I'd out-thought myself and would have to start over again, avoiding some nails I'd foolishly put in place to secure it. The 2x6, in fact, was going to be nailed to the stair stringers and would not rest on the 4x4 stringer at all!. Furthermore, the two 2x8s would need to rest on the stringer, which were suddenly two inches too tall. But, it's not the first time I've been in that position and, in the end, once I got the foundation secure and the 4x4 square and level, it worked out much better than either previous solution.

Attaching the joists with the hangers was not an entirely easy task. It's a little tricky trying to hold everything in place perfectly while nailing in the hanger, but the first three went on reasonably well. Unfortunately, the smallest hangers I had on hand were for 2x6s, so were a bit too high for the 2x4s. I pulled out bolt cutters and managed to trim them to fit with some effort, then nailed them in as well. By this time I was racing against the clock. I knew I couldn't finish the deck (I didn't have enough 2x6s for all the decking) but I wanted the foundation complete and some decking placed loosely on top for my next visitors. Around 2:30 I finally pounded in the last nails and placed the few pieces of decking on top. It looked great and I'm rather proud of the variety of foundation methods I employed to use the existing stairs and deck to the most advantage. The dimensions I used were practical--a deck four feet wide at the widest (between the existing deck and the stairs) so each eight foot 2x6 could be used for two pieces. This extended the deck two feet beyond the end of the bottom stair tread.

Once this was complete, there were a few aesthetic things I wanted to accomplish before my family arrived the next weekend. The bottom step up to the stairs on the lower deck was just slightly too high off the ground, so I grabbed a few large flat rocks we'd dug up that were lying around and made three narrow tiers of

rock steps leading up to the stairs. I also scraped a path around the corner of the deck where piles of dirt were mounded unevenly, and added more dirt and rocks to the tops of the nearby foundation blocks. I restacked and tarped the lumber, swept the decks, stairs, and the rocks I'd just placed, and put all the tools away. Kellee gallantly started washing dishes while I did some other errands, including making sure the cabins had pillows and blankets, locking all of them up, ferrying painting supplies back to the lodge, and raking the paths around the cabins from the winter debris (harmless, but it looks so much tidier without). I packed up all the gear, placed it on the porch, and swept the outhouses and the inside of the lodge. Kellee was still working on dishes, so I took a selfish moment and sat on the front deck in the sunshine drinking a diet cherry Dr. Pepper. I wasn't half way through, though, when I'd stared at the new connecting deck enough to be annoyed by the way that the old 2x12 path no longer connected to it. The boardwalk was originally constructed to connect the old temporary decks to dry ground over the mud above the lumber piles. The girls were able to reposition it after the new deck was built in front of the stairs during the work party, but I'd moved it aside again to build the foundation for the connecting deck and now it sat catawampus on the ground. So, I got up and drug it farther back to see if it would fit against the far side of the stairs/deck. It didn't, as it soon ran into a stack of lumber. So, I grabbed the skill saw and the extension cord from the lodge, started up the generator, and cut off one section of the boardwalk. This I quickly dug a level trench for next to the stairs and....voila, I had a path again, square with the rest of the deck. The remainder of the boardwalk I placed at the end of it, loosely resting there until I had more time to work on it. Then I raked the dirt in front of the stairs and the whole area looked wonderful.

I finished my soda, then went inside to put newspaper over the windows to prevent birds from hitting them. Kellee had finished the dishes and the kitchen looked wonderful. We started loading gear down to shore and I retrieved the boat, leaving the kayak leaned against the siding stacked on the front deck. The same stiff wind that we'd had the afternoon before had picked up again and it was quite choppy all the way through the Port. I was not encouraged! We crossed the entrance to the west shore to get in the lee of Mist Island and picked up speed. Between us and the shore I saw a very shiny log in the water, then saw what looked like a head pop up. Suddenly it exhaled and proved itself a whale, probably sleeping (sometimes called "logging" for obvious reasons). It dove spectacularly once (white flukes), then came up far behind us and fluked again. I think it was looking for a place to resume its nap as we only saw it once more with a single breath in the middle of the Port, no tail.

Amazingly, once we turned the corner and started heading up Stephen's Passage, the wind died down and we had mostly ripples all the way to Arden. There we encountered the same swell coming down the next section of Stephen's Passage and slowed down crossing to Douglas, seeing one or two more whales along the way. Nigel continued to spend significant time on the back bench in the Ronquil when the water was calm. That night Kellee took me out to celebrate the weekend at the Twisted Fish, then we traded photos and I collapsed into bed.

Looking upriver from Whiting Point