September 2, 2025 – Tuesday
Today was our window to cross Cape Caution—a stretch of water that demands respect and timing. It wasn’t a sunny day, but it was beautiful in its own quiet way. Patches of fog clung to the shoreline like whispers from the forest, softening the rugged edges of the coast. The sea was calm, and the reflections at Frypan Bay were nothing short of mesmerizing—mirror-like stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of a curious otter or a leaping fish.
The coastline along this passage is a masterpiece of nature: jagged rock formations rising from the sea, sculpted by centuries of wind and wave. Wildlife was abundant today. Flocks of seabirds wheeled overhead, sea otters floated on their backs like little mariners, and seals popped up like sentinels, watching us pass. It felt like the entire ecosystem had come out to bid us farewell.
And then, just before we reached Port McNeill, a humpback whale surfaced beside us, heading north. It was a brief but magical moment—like a final wave goodbye, a gentle reminder to return next season.
Arriving at the marina felt like coming home. Several boats were docked, their crews also returning from Alaska adventures. We were greeted with smiles, stories, and the kind of camaraderie that only comes from shared experience on the water. Tonight, the docks are alive with laughter and the quiet satisfaction of journeys completed.
