Photo: Approaching Hoonah Sound

"Go to Hoonah for the winter," Horst said, "You won't freeze there."

So we did. We headed north through Alaska, Marie, Henry and me, through the wilderness islands and fjords, chased incessantly by numerous humpback whales and harassed by countless bald eagles. The huge eagles roost on Sänna's masthead wind vane, threatening to snap its fragile protrusion with their immense weight. Then they swoop down for fish and leave the bones and blood at the foot of our mast. They leave a ton of bird shit too. In the beginning we desperately searched for bears and now, as time has gone by, we carefully dispose of our rubbish each night because we fear them prowling around outside and climbing onboard. And I've rigged up a noisy contraption to scare the nuisance eagles away just like the bears. That's how good it is here in Alaska.

Everyone has a bucket list vision of Alaska, born through stories from the 1890's Klondike Gold Rush and, more lately, World's Deadliest Catch, Ice Road Truckers and something called Gold Diggers; all shown nightly on the telly. It's not quite like that, well the touristy bit isn't and, boy, there's lots of tourism here in Alaska. The three of us sailed north for Hoonah and saved our grace. We began to think our vision of Alaska didn't exist. But it does.

We've hauled Sänna out of the water for the winter and the tourists have gone. We're not so far south from Glacier Bay and Icy Strait, just over the water in fact. The sea is beginning to freeze and the annual ten metres of snow is showing signs. It's been hard work making preparations for the freezing cold, I've filled our watermaker with glycerine antifreeze, drained the engine of seawater and all the sails are down... the winter winds are infamous here. And all the time black bears are prowling around Sänna looking for somewhere nice for their winter sleep.

The mountain glaciers surrounding Hoonah are spectacular. We're quite remote now on the north of Chichagof Island... and the folk here... we're not allowed to call them Eskimos anymore... they're First Nation Tlingits, or Inuits if you're even further north. They're friendly and ask everyday if there's anything we need. They stop in their trucks to talk, with their rifles and guns, suggesting we all hunt and drink beer and have a good time. That sort of talk doesn't suit us timid Brits.

We'll leave Sänna a while in the cold and head back to the UK. I'm a new grandfather for the first time and I have an urgent appointment I must make...

When we return we'll knuckle down into the winter cold and get ourselves ready. Ready for our journey north and the arctic ice and the Northwest Passage.
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