This post talks quite a bit about beards. If that’s not something you’re comfortable with, you might want to skip this one.

The next leg of our voyage was from Calvert Island, to Ketchikan Alaska during the month of June. The weather on the BC coast this spring was trash apocalyptic norwegian abnormal. While much of North America was experiencing blistering heat waves, we were mostly shivering and damp, hoping that some bright grey might break through the darker grey so we could shed our outer fleece layers to shake off the algae.

When we did get a sunny day, the contrast made it memorable. Even five months later, when we encounter some warm weather somebody will say, “Wow, it’s like the seventh of June out here!” We’ll never forget you, Seventh of June. We warmed up a bit that day.

We kept in touch with our new friends aboard the Pinocchio and eventually met up with them again at an incredible spot called Europa Hot Springs. There was only a single mooring bouy in the deep anchorage there, so we rafted our two boats together. This is a pretty big step for a second date! Our kids felt shy and hid down below, but the Pinocchio children broke the ice by posting notes on their portlights that our kids then responded to in kind. Soon they arranged to hang out and my heart glowed. We spent 2 nights there with them and once again felt very grateful that we had met this amazing family.

Shortly after that, we made the decision to poke up into Alaska, which wasn’t part of our original plan. And here’s where things get beard.

If you’ve known me since the summer of 2009, you’ve known a guy with a beard. There was not a single day before that summer that I had a beard, and there has not been a single day since that I have not. I’ve never admit this to anyone, but contrary to the evidence, I cannot grow a beard. I never could. By the age of 31 I had completely given up on the idea. Yet that very year, 2009, at age 31, Sarah and I did our first big sailing trip, up to Alaska.

Spending 2 months in the untamed ruggedness of the Alaskan wilderness forced a beard right out of my face. It was shocking. I honestly believe that if I shave, outside of Alaska, it will be gone forever, and so I never have. It’s sounds like I’m joking, but I NEVER HAVE.

Given this untreated psychosis I felt some trepidation in contemplating a return to Alaska. If I grew a beard last time, what might I grow this time? Will my kids grow beards? They’re only 11 years old! It might be particularly awkward for poor Nyah.

Despite the risks, we forged ahead to Ketchikan, Alaska. It is a surreal place to arrive at by boat. You round a corner from remote wilderness, to behold multiple cruise ships docked in front of a tiny community. Float planes full of tourists buzz about like mosquitoes above tour-boats full of more tourists. It’s strange, but we love it there. Ironically, the main attraction for us, is the tourists. They (we) make the whole place exciting and weird. Also I like to see their surprised expressions as beards pop out of their faces.

We parted ways with Pinocchio in Ketchikan. They would continue north, while we would turn south in search of some warm weather. All downhill from here!