June 17-19
Row of garnets at Snettisham
Snettisham
2011 - 4: All Cabins Full Up
June 17-19
Row of garnets at Snettisham
This trip report recounts the general events of
a work
party at Snettisham with eight people (including myself). The
report
itself is a little dry, and in no way reflects the fun of the weekend
or the
quality of my companions! I have deliberately kept it brief, as
there is
too much to recount with so many fine people involved. Please
take it as
a brief overview of the weekend only.
The
ocean was wonderfully calm, especially after we left Gastineau Channel,
and
I was in high spirits--I had on board three passengers and five more
were on
their way to meet us at the homestead. Two years ago I put
together a fun
work party weekend at Snettisham which resulted in a lot of raw
firewood and a
couple of wooden benches; I wanted to repeat the 
group
adventure, but focus a
little less on work. We'd originally planned to all come down in
the
Alaskan, but it was out of
commission for the weekend, so we turned to a
combination of skiff and beaver for transport. The four of us on
the
Ronquil had a smooth,
beautiful ride down. We passed a few whales in Taku
Inlet, but none close enough to stop for; a little farther south we
spotted a
couple in the middle of Stephen's Passage and the water was so calm
that we
swung over to check them out. There turned out to be three
whales--a
single and a pair--and they were joined by at least a hundred common
murres in
a great line upon the water (see photo to right). Usually I see
between one and six murres at
a time (when I see them at all) and they're almost always in Taku Inlet
or Port
Snettisham. I have never seen such an assembly, nor heard the
cacophony
of their joint voices! It was noisy and wonderful. We hung
around
the pair of whales for a few breathing cycles (though I admit I was
more
fascinated at the point by the murres), then we headed toward
Snettisham where
we had a few minutes to show Katie around the homestead and let her and
Rob
pick out a cabin before the plane arrived. During the tour I also
managed
to install the missing o-ring on a filter in Cottonwood's water system
so the
occupants of that cabin had running water.
At about 1:30 the rest of the crew arrived and, after dropping gear in
the
cabins, a quick tour, and a snack, the boys wanted to know what to work
on. I actually had no expectation of accomplishing anything over
the
weekend, expecting a lot of kayaking and leisure activities.
Naturally I
underestimated the men! When the guys (Torsten, Myron, Rob, and
Chris)
asked what I wanted them to work on, the only thing I had in mind was
bringing
in big rocks for the path between the lodge and the river.
Several years
ago a couple of guys had brought up five large, flat rocks from the
beach,
which I eventually manhandled (with some effort) into the marshiest
portion of
the path; these stones are solid and dry (after Chris and I diverted
the water
that was draining over them), unlike the rest of the rocks I brought up
to
finish the path, most of which were woefully inadequate, overgrown and
unstable. I thought the guys might be able to bring in a few more
large
stones to help replace the smaller rocks. I never expected the
intense
energy and creativity they brought to the task! I suggested they
wait
until 
low
tide (the water was all the way up to the log at the edge of the
meadow), but they managed to find several large rocks nearby in the
grass and
began dropping them at the bottom of the path. While the girls
were
inside with me (Katie, Sarah, and Faith), Chris came in and asked if
they could
use a kayak to help haul rocks; he took my puzzled silence as
acquiescence and
never explained what they had in mind. I promptly forgot about it
until I
saw them some time later pulling two kayaks in tandem (one half sunk)
at the
edge of the beach just moments before their massive stone slid off into
the
water. They were driven! The strategy was to choose the
largest
flat stones they could handle, figuring they'd settle nicely under
their own
weight.
With the temporary setback of losing their prized rock, the boys
took a break
and we all gathered on the porch for a while, battling the mosquitoes
with
mosquito coils. People scattered for a while, and Myron returned
to work
on the rock path. Working alone, he used somewhat smaller stones
to
create a path that connected the bottom of the main path with 
the
gravel beach
to the side where the big stone was soon to appear with the receding
tide (they
came back to it later and placed it on a kayak, hoping to float it
closer to
the path in the morning). It made moving larger rocks from that
direction
much easier and was an impressive feat for one man alone. In the
meantime, Sarah and Katie had taken a walk down the beach toward
Gilbert Bay
and Faith and Myron soon followed them. While they were gone I
heard a
huge rolling crash that sounded like a rockslide in the distance.
I
stared around and then spotted a whale breach in Gilbert Bay, followed
by a
huge splash, four or five seconds of silence, and a resounding
crash.
This whale breached about eight times in a row and all eight of us had
a good
look at it; one of the breaches was a full body leap, his tail coming
out of
the water as he turned on his side. It's only the second breach
I've seen
from the homestead! The excitement continued from there.
Katie and
Sarah came back with news of a rock outcropping just downriver of the
eagle's
nest that was full of garnets. Sure enough, the bedrock there was
laced
with them--big garnets about to erode loose, silver dollar sized pieces
of rock
studded with small garnets, long striations of pure garnet. I was
so
delighted, and impressed that they spotted them (for all the prevalence
of
garnets in Southeast Alaska, I've never noticed them nor sought them
out). Back at the lodge, Rob (the geologist) said they weren't
very good
quality, but I don't mind that. There are plenty in that one rock
outcropping for all my future tourists to enjoy. Rob later
discovered
more garnets upriver as well as quartz veins with pyrite (a promising
sign of
gold in the area).
That evening we started the first fire in the new fire pit and Rob made
delicious moose burgers over alder wood. We finished out the
night
playing Uno on the edge of the porch, having spent very little time
inside the
lodge all day. The fine weather earlier had slowly diminished
into dusky
overcast and sprinkles, but the rain held off until we wandered off to
bed
after midnight.
 Katie at the mill site |
 The collapsed mill |
 Moving the massive rock |
 Faith, Sarah, and Katie |
 Myron's side path |
 Chris reading on the point |
 Myron, Chris, and Torsten with the big rock on the kayak |
 Exploring Garnet Rock |
 Two large garnets |
The
next morning I enjoyed running water in the privacy of my own cabin and
headed to the lodge around 9:30. Myron was the only one up and
was
already hard at work moving rocks by himself; he'd even begun to bring
up
flagstones for paving the area around the campfire. I invited him
to join
me on my COASST survey, since the tide was out, and he happily
accompanied
me. We went upriver to the grassy point and then back to the
rocky point
without finding anything more exciting than old bear prints. Then
Myron
helped me try to catch some little fry hanging out in the shallow
outlet of the
main creek. I had a little bucket and he tried to herd them
carefully in
my direction, but we found the little guys much too fast and wily,
despite our
numerous strategies. In the end we gave up and returned to the
lodge to
find that Katie had heated up some amazing breakfast sandwiches for
everyone. Then, while most of us were hanging around the lodge,
Rob and
Katie walked out to the edge of the sandbars to fish. I think
Torsten was
the first to spot them out there some time later and question what they
were
doing. Far away, two small black silhouettes had begun a most
ludicrous
dance on the sandbars. I wish I had a video of 
it.
Several feet
apart, the two of them moved in a slow, yoga-like dance in hilarious
synchronicity,
the one raising a knee, the other taking a comically large, slow step,
one
bending over while the other raised their arm at exactly the same
angle.
It was like a crane mating dance in slow motion. Over time the
two moved
closer together until they overlapped, then separated again as the
dance
continued. It was the funniest thing I've seen in as long as I
can
remember and I laughed until tears streamed down my face. We all
laughed. It went on so long I easily had time to grab my camera
and take
a video, but it just got funnier and funnier and I couldn't take my
eyes off
them!
Katie, of course, was stuck in the silt and had sunk to the tops
of her
xtratufs. Rob, initially unconcerned, eventually came over to
help her
and they returned as the tide began to come in. For the record, I
had a
rescue plan in mind should the dance turn less comical.
After they
got back, safe and sound, the boys returned to moving rocks while the
girls
stayed inside, relaxed, and played bananagrams (a fun, fast paced
scrabble-type
game). With a lower tide, the boys found ample stones to work
with and
abandoned the monster that had fallen off the kayak again in the
night.
They mostly scavenged down the beach closer to the eagle's nest and
developed
an efficient system using the kayaks to float several rocks at a time;
two guys
brought the kayaks back to the path and placed the stones while the
others
found more rocks and loaded the other kayak. They made impressive
progress. I came down to check it out once and saw Myron using a
dolly to
move a perfect flat stone and I recognized immediately as a good
candidate for Nigel's
headstone. He and I and Chris carried it up to the corner of the
porch
for future carving. In the mid-afternoon we broke for lunch and
talked
about what to do the rest of the day. Several people were excited
to go
back and visit the Crystal Mine stamp mill and seek out the mine
itself, but by
then it was only a couple of hours before high tide and there wasn't
enough
time to make it worthwhile. Plus, we still didn't know exactly
where the
road was and anticipated that it would involve a lot of wet
bushwhacking to
move along it. Rob, Katie, Chris, and I had taken advantage of
the smooth
water and the rising tide on the way down the day before to stop at the
old
mill site. Rob brought along (and later donated) a really
fantastic book
about all the small mines along the Juneau Goldbelt and read to us
about the Crystal
Mine as we cruised in. After tying the boat to an old piling, we
hiked
into the woods and found an artificial rock wall at the head of a
narrow, flat
enclave surrounded by steep terrain where the miners had apparently
dammed off
a small creek. I'd told Rob about all the pyrite in this creek,
which I'd
visited once before, but he told me that it was actually micas that
made the
gold color. A little less exciting, but the water was no less
beautiful.
We also found all kinds of fun iron equipment and pipes in the
bushes.
Chris and Rob started hiking up the mountainside while Katie and I
returned to
the beach to look for the road to the mine. We first tried a
suspicious
looking graded wash to the north which I was sure wasn't the road (it
went in
the wrong direction), but looked worth checking out anyway. We
followed
it about fifty yards onto a flat shelf backed by a cliff where a large
structure had obviously collapsed. Huge beams lay in an 
overgrown
tangle. Meanwhile, after finding a pile of apparently unused
pipes up on
the mountainside, Chris and Rob descended and came up on the ruins from
the
opposite direction. From there we went back to the pilings on the
beach
and checked out the forest in the other direction. We found a
smooth,
even wash from the beach into the forest which we all strongly suspect
is the
road--my only hesitation is that it's in a depression and seemed likely
to
channel water; however, there was no creek running through it. On
the
water side of the "road," Chris spotted an iron ore claim notice
scratched in metal and nailed to a tree. Up there we saw more
refuse from
the mine and a perfectly flat shelf grown up with young, even-aged
spruce trees
that made a thick tangle of small, dead branches that were tricky to
walk
through. As this flat shelf ended abruptly at a gully not far
away, we
suspect it was a staging ground and the lower area the actual
road. But,
we needed to get going by that time, so we returned to the boat and
headed on
to the homestead. I had the will to leave most of the artifacts
behind,
but I did take a partial bottle that Katie found in the creek.
So after nixing the mine plan for that day, we had a little lunch,
watched an eagle swim to shore with a flounder, and the group
scattered. Katie, Sarah, and Faith went for a long kayak upriver
around
Whiting Point while Torsten and Rob worked on clearing a view in front
of Mink
Cabin while I supervised. This was another project on my
long-term
project list that I had no expectation of completing in the near future
(and I
figured I'd have to hire someone to cut the branches). Large
spruce trees
rarely have live branches below about 30 feet, probably because there
usually
isn't a lot of sunshine below that in the forest (not for long periods
of time,
anyway). At the edge of the forest with no competition, however,
there is
ample light right to the base of the tree on one side. Thus, the
trees at
the edge of the forest tend to have high branches that sweep
dramatically down
to the ground. This creates a convenient, dry place to camp at
the edge
of the beach, but in this case was also impeding the view from the
cabin.
Torsten climbed into the tree and cut about three live branches and
several
dead branches from two adjacent trees that created a narrow window free
of
spruce
bows. He used a bow saw while Rob, and sometimes myself, pulled
on
the branches from below. It was a huge job. Once the boughs
were
out of the way, he and Rob started up the chainsaw (which hadn't been
used since
the last work party) and cut and trimmed enough alders to complete the
narrow
window to the beach. It transformed the cabin, letting in light
and
creating a river view, making it just as pleasant a cabin as Cottonwood.
The girls got back from their impressive kayak around the time that Rob
and
Torsten finished creating the view, bucking up some of the wood, and
tidying
the area. Yet, after a short break, the boys were at it again,
this time
creating a mysterious bathing pool in the creek. I was a little
uncertain
of their intent, but trusted their vision. Several of us were
getting a
little hungry, so they promised to work for only half an hour before
coming
back and finishing dinner prep (which was in Torsten and Sarah's hands
that
night). After about 45 minutes we sent Myron after the three of
them, who
not only failed to convey the urgent message of immediate return, but
set to
work helping out. I think they worked at it for nearly two hours
before
they finally returned, having triumphantly moved an enormous rock from
the
middle of their mysterious pool. Torsten and Sarah finished
heating up
their squash stew and cooking beef and chicken strips for burritos and
we ate
heartily, finishing the meal with coffee cake drizzled in
Bailey's. Chris
and I snuck out after dinner to place the two bottles of champagne at
the edge
of the pool in preparation of showing it off to the others. Upon
seeing
it I was delighted! They'd taken a shallow, roundish area,
deepened and
dammed it, and removed a huge rock in the middle, thus creating a
round,
knee-deep pool of soft shale with a little waterfall on the upper end
to dip
your head under and an old, mossy log crossing the creek to hang your
towel
on. We jokingly called it the Birthing Pool. After
finishing
dessert, we returned to the pool with everyone and immediately opened a
bottle
of champagne, which was soon drained. On the way back, Sarah,
Torsten,
Chris, and I followed Rob out to the point where he gave us an
impromptu
lecture on the geology of the impressively wavy rocks there, which I
ate up,
though I confess that even when he tried a second time to explain
strike and
dip, I didn't fully grasp it. That night we played a few rounds
of
scattergories before bed (for future reference, I think eight people
might be too
many for an effective game of scattergories!).
 Myron on the COASST survey |
 Rob and Katie on their way to fish |
 The boys hauling rocks |
 Torsten with a load of rocks (Chris's photo) |
 The boys working outside while the girls play banagrams inside |
 Swimming eagle |
 Faith helps place some stones |
 The "view" from Mink prior to trimming |
 Torsten at work |
 Rob pulling down branches |
 The new view from Mink |
 Mink from the beach |
 Geology lesson |
 The pool in daylight |
 The rock the boys moved from the pool |
The next morning I slept in a bit, so there were a
few folks at the lodge when
I arrived. I think that morning was the most pleasant part of the
weekend. As people trickled in we sat around the table eating
Katie's
homemade scones, jam, and butter, and drinking first delicious morning
drinks
by barista Katie (whose time in Italy served her well) and then mimosas
with
the second bottle of champagne. After explaining how fancy coffee
drinks
are made in Europe (e.g., lattes, cappuccinos, macchiatos), Katie
demonstrated
the layering effect of whipped milk and coffee in a clear glass for
Chris,
adding Bailey's afterwards (as several of us did with our
drinks). There
were more rounds of bananagrams with increasing numbers of people until
it got
rather challenging with small piles of letters. Out in the
drizzly river,
hundreds of harbor seals lay on the sandbars at the edge of the deep
channel.
 The path |
 The beaver coming to pick us up |
 Sleeping whale drifting in |
