Brad Rocks!

It had to happen sooner or later. At least that is what the seasoned sailors tell us. Still, it doesn't heal the pain.

We were entering North Finger Bay in Glacier Bay when Brad lost focus for just a minute and that was all it took. We had just gotten past the constriction into the bay and thought that we could relax. Wrong. We were surrounded by sea otter families floating on their backs, some munching on sea urchins, others cuddling their delightful little pups, and still others cleaning their whiskers and paws. Enchanting.

All of a sudden, the port side of the boat lurched up as we heard a hellacious thud and then the boat settled back down again. It was over in a flash. Brad's face looked stricken as he asked "What was that?" I answered, "We hit a rock!" (I wanted to add "dumb ass" but I managed to hold my tongue.) He was incredulous. He yelled "We need to check all the bilges for water right now." He started to go below so I pointed out that he needed to continue to drive the boat, so I volunteered to handle it. "Hurry! Hurry!", he blurted. I did so and found no water intrusion anywhere, but I couldn't do it fast enough for Brad's sense of urgency, believe me. (In my defense may I remind you that all of the carpeting has to be moved out of the way first in order to get to the hatches.) Shall we say a certain level of panic ensued?

In Brad's defense, we had just hit an uncharted rock about two feet below the surface in very murky waters. (Unlike most of Glacier Bay, this particular little bay had a big influx of muddy river water.) No one could have seen it, but had he been watching his depth gauge as he usually does, we wouldn't have been in that shallow of water in the first place. Those sea otters were just a little too captivating.

Within minutes we were safely anchored at our intended spot, but not before Brad nearly ran us aground at the mouth of the small river that feeds into the bay. As he was making his circle in preparation to anchor, the depth gauge read 20' and then it dropped to 2' in just a few seconds. Brad's heart be still! Aground twice in less than 10 minutes?? Need I say Brad's confidence was shaken to the core? We didn't actually hit bottom this second time but it was a near thing.

All I could think of during this bad patch was "Oh, thank God I wasn't the one driving! If I had, Brad would never have forgiven me!" Truly, I was thrilled it wasn't me!

Within minutes of anchoring, Brad donned his wetsuit, mask, snorkel and fins. I tried to talk him out of it as the water was 55 degrees and the visibility was less than two feet, but he would have none of it. So down he went, all covered in neoprene, afraid of what he might find.

Fortunately, Island Packets are built like tanks. The only damage he found was a 3-foot scrape mark along the port side about two feet below the water line. No obvious dent and that rock didn't even scrape off the bottom paint entirely. Whoohoo! What a relief! The only serious damage was to Brad's psyche. I wonder how long it will be before we can once again get near the shallows without Brad on "full alert"!