SEPTEMBER 24, 2018

ROCKWELL KENT WILDERNESS CENTENNIAL JOURNAL

100 YEARS LATER

September 24, 2018

MAY THE WATERS OF RESURRECTION BAY CARESS THEIR BONES

Rockwell Kent II: 1882-1918 and his son, Rockwell Kent III: 1909-1918

by Doug Capra

Part II

NOTE – This is an expanded version of the article that first appeared

in the Spring 2005 (Vol .XXXI, No. 1) issue of The Kent Collector

Kent would take other risks in Resurrection Bay with Rocky as he would later in life. That was his nature. During these early years, he couldn’t afford the safest equipment. It was often a question of either taking what seems to us a needless risk or not embarking on adventure at all. In fairness to Kent, we often look back with “presentism” or “generational chauvinism.” Today we take for granted dependable engines and kickers (a smaller engine available as a backup), GPS, survival suits, and other nautical technology. Back in 1918 in Alaska as elsewhere, people accepted a higher level of risk as the order of the day. Many mariners used small boats to get around Resurrection Bay. But even back then, experienced Seward seadogs wondered at Kent’s risky winter ventures into the bay with his young son.

My good friend Jim Barkley, a local mariner for nearly forty years, shudders at Kent’s antics in Resurrection Bay. “It’s totally hard to believe he could really think about staying on Fox Island over the winter and coming back and forth into town on any kind of regular schedule.” Barkley should know.

He staked the open-entry land at Kent’s cove on Fox Island in 1971. By the early 1980’s, he was building a lodge there. Throughout the 1980’s he acquired more land along the shore, built several cabins and ran a successful tourist lodge. He later sold his land to Tom Tougas who owned Kenai Fjords Tours (KFT). Tougas in turn sold the operation to Cook Inlet Regional, Inc. (CERI), an Alaska Native Corporation. Today, KFT is owned and operated by the tourism division of the Viad Corporation.

Barkley – who grew up on an island in the St. Lawrence River not far from the Canadian border -- is an expert seaman and knows Resurrection Bay and the waters of Kenai Fjords National Park intimately. “I’ve been back and forth {between Seward and Fox Island} quite a few times in the winter myself,” he says. “The problem is you pick a nice day to go out, and once at Fox Island you have to pull your skiff out of the water because it starts blowing so hard it’ll pick up your boat and blow it away.” In summer, the prevailing wind is from the south. Beginning in late August, early September the winds change and start coming out of the north. “When it’s out of the south the coves on Fox Island are beautifully protected,” Barkley says. “Both are wonderful places to spend the summer -- 99 per cent of the time they’re just like a mirror, even on a day when it could be storming out in the Gulf of Alaska.” Kent arrived in Resurrection Bay just as the winds started coming from the north.

“You can’t keep a boat in the water in these places during the winter,” Barkley says. “You can’t anchor it out. You have to pull it out of the water. 60, 80, 90 knot winds are just not that unusual.” Hung between two tall spruce trunks, Olson’s windless hauled their boats high up on the beach and into the trees – and then, he probably tied them down. One would think that outside the protected waters of Resurrection Bay, conditions would always be more dangerous. But that’s not the case. “Commercial fishermen say that when they’re out fishing in the Gulf of Alaska in the wintertime,” Barkley says, “and they return to Resurrection Bay, the worst part of the whole trip is from Cape Resurrection to Seward. That‘s where the wind blows the worst, and we all know tragic stories of people who have been fishing many miles away from Seward but perish within eight miles of town.”

Anna Young got her 100-ton captain’s license in Alaska at a time when few women had them, and when women faced many obstacles entering a male-dominated fishing industry. As a cook, deckhand and captain, she knows these waters well. In her book, The Lost Art of Alaska Fishing: Part One 1968-1980, she confirms Barkley’s comments: “Out in the Gulf of Alaska south of Seward where we crabbed, the weather was usually beautiful on those cold, calm, clear sky days we fished. In the winter the big storms are very well predicted and we just didn’t go out fishing in them. Except on the opener of course, when you must go in any kind of weather, if you want to be out on the grounds first to claim the best spots. Returning to Seward, once you pass around Rugged Island and the cold winds blowing off Bear Glacier hit the wet boat it starts freezing and ices up. Then it only gets worse when you turn into the bay passing Caines Head. The hard, constant north wind blowing off the glaciers through Seward gets stronger and colder the closer you get to town and the ice builds up faster.”

Docking in Seward under those conditions can be one of the most dangerous parts of the trip, according to Young. “Getting the boat tied back up to the dock is no small feat, with the wind blasting the boat away from the dock as soon as it turns broad side to the wind. So the skipper must come in fairly fast and the crew can’t screw up with the lines at all.” (p. 137)

A few winters ago, in some of the worst weather we’ve had, a commercial fishing boat working outside Resurrection Bay tried to make it home. They iced up and capsized near Caines Head at the entrance to the bay. One man died and his body was never recovered. The other lived, but spent several hours floating in his survival suit before being rescued.

Rowing a dory with a motor that occasionally works 12 miles to Fox Island in Resurrection Bay is one thing. But paddling an Indian dugout canoe over 12 miles of open water to Night Island near Yakatat? Had Kent been serious? When I mention this dugout canoe scenario along with Kent’s rowing to Fox Island in winter to experienced mariners they shake their heads. “Having had some experience fishing off the New England coast,” Mike Brittain says, “I’m surprised Kent did what he did in Alaska. It doesn’t seem like a real wise choice he made.”

Among the wise choices Kent did make was to choose a dory for his Resurrection Bay travel. “If you’re going to be in those kinds of conditions, maybe a dory is the best kind of boat to have,” Barkley notes. “If he used what we have today, small aluminum boats, he wouldn’t have made it.” Most small boats have flat bottoms. “A dory has what’s called a rocker. It goes up in the bow and up in the stern. So, if you’re coming into a beach or you’re out in big waves, the waves tend to pass under the boat rather than coming over the side.” As mariners say, you don’t get “pooped” by the waves; that is, the waves don’t break over the bow or stern. “The waves will pick up your stern and the boat will kind of surf,” Barkley says. “The dory is probably one of the reasons Kent made it in those sea conditions.” Kent’s nautical exploits in Alaska remind Brittain of “the number of accidents we’ve had out here in Resurrection Bay where people have died going out in small boats that they should have not have gone out in. Weather came up and they suddenly found themselves in trouble.”

That happened to my friend, experienced kayaker. filmmaker, and Seward adventurer Josh Thomas. In the winter he’s a producer and cameraman for the reality show, The Deadliest Catch and he’s been nominated for two Emmys. One fine February day not long ago he decided to kayak out to Fox Island from Seward to spend the night. “I saw a good weather window looking at the NOAA marine forecast,” Josh recalled. “Variable winds, light winds, almost no seas – and I figured it’d be good time to paddle out and spend the night on Sunny cove at Fox Island.” He had one night’s worth of food, modern survival equipment and a cell phone. When he woke up in the morning, the forecast had changed. “It would now be hovering between twenty-five and thirty-five knots out of the north over the next five days. So I spent five days out there.”

At times he thought that he might need rescue. It wasn’t summer. There were no tour boats and few fishing boats around. “The only boats going by are the occasional tug boat – you night see one every other day.” He realized any rescue would have to be by the U.S. Coast Guard

He did a lot of waiting and watching the water, paddling out a few times – but in a small sea kayak he realized he couldn’t make any kind of progress in a stiff headwind like that.

Fortunately, he found a small unlocked cabin at the north end of Sunny Cove up in the trees not far from the beach. It had a small kitchen with a pantry that had some hot chocolate packets and a few macaroni and cheese boxes. “I ate just about every one of them,” he remembered, “and left a nice note.” At the very south end of the beach when the tide was low Josh could get cell phone service, so he notified family members that he was all right and just waiting for the weather to clear.” It did, and he paddled back to Seward. Later that summer he went back to the cabin, replaced what he had eaten and added some extras.

“Maybe Kent didn’t realize at first some of the troubles he was getting into,” Thomas says. “Not so much strong currents and tides, but the winds really pick up here with huge potential for strong north winds because the whole Kenai Peninsula kind of funnels down into this little bay. Even when it’s not forecast, even with our modern weather techniques the winds can come up in an hour and stay for days. In Resurrection Bay you have to have a respect for the wind. So I think with Kent going out there back then without the weather forecasts we have now, without the dry suits, with the kind of boats that we have – I think he got kind of lucky. He made it. He realizes he got lucky, too, and I don’t’ think he pushed it too much after that.”

“In Resurrection Bay you have to have respect for the wind because it can come up at any moment and it can stay for days.” Thomas notes. “So you always think in the back of your mind what you’re going to do if that does happen – if there are people out there that can save you – or if you’re out in the winter time there’s not many boats around, just where you can land your boat, how far off shore you’re going to be at a given moment if you’re crossing over to a place like Fox Island. You could be two miles from the nearest coast. I’ve been out in the Resurrection Bay in heavy chops a lot, and it can be fun if you’re dressed for it and you’re planning for it. It’s not fun when you’re not ready for it. It’s easy to get complacent with anything, especially with being on the water because the risk is a little higher. You can’t really live long in this water. Most people pass out within about ten minutes of exposure. You forget that until you go in sometime and you realize how cold the water really is.”

All of these thoughts came to mind recently when I came across an old newspaper clipping from the March 2, 1927 Seward Gateway with the headline: “Marooned Within Sight of Seward For Three Weeks.” It’s the story of Axel Larson who wrecked his boat on Fox Island while trying to land on the beach in early February eight years after the Kent’s left. He barely made it to shore, and lost everything but a wet blanket and a few frozen potatoes. Larson’s frozen potatoes didn’t last long. For three weeks he survived by scavenging the beach at low tide for blue mussels which he pried off the rocks and ate. He had no way to start a fire, so he sheltered in an old cabin, “one side of which had decayed and fallen down.” This was probably Kent’s old cabin.

There are three possible landing sites on the island – Kent’s cove, which at the time was called Northwest Harbor; Sunny Cove, just to the south; and the Fox Island Spit, on the northeast side of the island My guess is that Larson stranded in Kent’s cove. The only photo of the Kent cabin remains I’ve located was taken by Nebraska painter Dale Nichols in 1940. Nichols had read Wilderness and later ventured to Alaska with his wife, settling in Moose Pass about 30 miles north of Seward. He became friends with Don Carlos Brownell, mayor of Seward and one of Kent’s friends from the 1918-19 visit. Brownell and his wife took Nichols and his wife to Fox Island where Nichols took the photo. Add two more walls and a bit more roof and this may have been where Axel Larson stayed during his February 1927 exile.

Larson lay down each sleepless night on an old, soggy hay mattress and covered up with his wet blanket. It rained and stormed almost continuously, except for one night. The next morning he woke to find himself enveloped in snow and frost. That was the only night he slept. During those three weeks, several boats passed Fox Island and Larson frantically -- yet unsuccessfully -- tried to signal them. Finally, on March 1, 1927 a crew member from the halibut schooner Republic saw him. But seas were too rough for the schooner to put their skiff ashore. So Larson, rather than wait another day or two, plunged into the icy waters of Resurrection Bay and swam about 70 yards to safety. He later told friends that he had reached the end of his endurance and could not have lasted much longer.

Eight years earlier to the day, it snowed hard on Fox Island so Kent and Rockie spent most of the day in the cabin. On Feb. 25^th clothed only in sneakers, the two scampered down the shore and plunged into the waves. “Brrrrrr! It’s cold. But mighty good,” Kent wrote. That was a common morning ritual for them. Olson rarely bathed and predicted a “dire end” to those morning dips. But he sometimes dragged himself out of bed to witness the bizarre ceremony. He was probably just thankful to see that Kent and Rocky had lived to see another day.

PHOTOS

Kent and Rockie in their dory. Notice the engine. It’s clearly winter, probably taken at the south end of their Fox Island cove – but it could be Sunny or Humpy Cove, places they visited. It looks like they’re off shore with this photo taken from another boat. Perhaps that’s why the picture is blurry.