July 25, 2025 – Friday
We lifted anchor in the hush of morning, the line dripping seawater and the surprise of a bright orange starfish clinging to its length—like the bay itself reluctant to let us go. Mallards paddled purposefully across our bow, their small wakes stitching silver trails into the mirror-slick surface. Overhead, clouds clung to the shoulders of the mountains, soft and low, as if the peaks themselves were exhaling.
Eagles stood sentinel on barren rocks, solemn as old kings watching a changing tide. Their stillness lent weight to our own quiet departure—no fanfare, just the rhythm of engine and tide. The swell opened gradually toward LeConte Bay, and there, drifting like a dream, we met an iceberg. Its silent presence punctuated our passage, a final crystalline farewell.
At 12:00 pm on Friday, July 25, the summer salmon openers in Southeast Alaska quietly drew to a close, and all around us—on the sparkling water en route to Petersburg—a steady parade of gillnetters, troll boats, and purse seiners made their final runs. Here are just a few that slipped past our bow.
