Saturday 13 Aug, Gorgeous day! Blue sky, sunshine; would that there were more like this. Craig and Anne headed off the boat early to take advantage of their last day in AK (this year). Presumably they headed for the Mendenhall glacier which should, in this sunlight, show those unreal blue colors for which it is famous.

I stayed on the boat. While taking an early morning walk with the boys - Rusty & Rascal - on the beach south of Douglas Harbor, Rascal somehow managed to roll in dead fish and seriously needed a wash. And while we're at it, Rusty too. So, washed the dogs, rinsed the decks, filled the water tanks along with other odds and ends and the dogs are happily drying out, on the deck, in the sunshine.

Dorothy is back in Sonoma County this weekend; her mother's 85th birthday. I'm hoping she brings back some Gravenstein apples for a pie or crisp - once you've had it made with Gravensteins, all other apple pies are tasteless.

A very interesting trip up to Skagway this past week: rather than take DE up the Lynn Canal (two days in a wind tunnel each way according to everyone we spoke with) instead we boarded the Alaska state ferry Malaspina for a 6 hour ride (which would be 5 except for the stop in Haines). I knew the basics about the Yukon / Dawson gold rush of 1898 and the Chilcoot Trail (a good fictionalized, but based on facts, version of this would be Michener's "Alaska") but being up there and getting a more complete story was worth the time and expense. We took a bus from Skagway up to Carcross in the Yukon, then back down 63 miles to Skagway on the White Pass & Yukon Railroad - an all day activity with well done historical narrative. The rail car we rode was 120 years old - eat your heart out Bill Kimley!

The second day we hit the shops in Skagway, or maybe I should say that Dorothy hit the shops while I glanced off a couple of them briefly, but spent most of my time people watching. Skagway has a small resident population, but the cruise ships boost that to 10,000 for the day and it's all a little crazy. We stayed at Sgt Preston's Lodge; the name was the attraction as I have fond memories of the 1955-56 TV serial "Sgt Preston of the Yukon" his horse Rex and his dog Yukon King. Too bad the name was the only actual reference; both seasons of the program are available on DVD - maybe they should show it continuously on the lodge TV system.

One observation I would make regards the romantization of this period of history (as frequently happens), is that rather than adventurers, the majority of the folks flocking from all over the world to Alaska and the Yukon at the end of the 19th century, were acting out of desperation. And especially on the American side at Skagway, the situation was 'hell on earth' with many cheated, vicitimzed, murdered; many never heard from again.

While in Skagway, Dorothy and I took a walk down to the small boat harbor and found the sailboat Wooshee, although Matt and Gill were not in residence; they were up in the White Horse area doing a canoe trip on the Yukon River. There's a fun story about how we first met S/V Wooshee in Kushiro, Japan during our trans-Pacific crossing. You can find it on this blog at 22 June 2009. We still hope to hook up with them somewhere in AK before the end of the summer.

Rusty and Rascal boarded at the "Pet Nanny's Place" in Juneau while we had our Skagway adventure. I'm embarrassed to say that I fretted about them constantly and was very gratified, upon picking them up, that they seemed no worse for the experience. In fact, maybe the relationship between them is just a little bit better.

Alpenglow has started their end-of-season trip south. Other "Joy Duck Club" members, who you may have seen mentioned here over the years, are scattered around the world: Peking is in the western Carribean; Kwakatu is in the Chesepeake and for sale; Dora Mac is in the eastern Med; ICE is at Tarawa with a horror story of problems with their main engine - Bill & Stella from Seahorse flew out there this past week to try and help, or at least provide moral support; Jubilee is also in the Chesepeake, I think, but Dean (her owner) is just completing a delivery voyage aboard a large catamaran from Florida to Australia and won't be back to her for several more months, maybe even not til next year; Lady Dragon is at the Seahorse yard where Andrew has had her topside repainted and some other repairs / improvements while Highland Duck is laid up in Langkawi (I think) while Margaret and Bob visit with family back in Australia.

And even in the midst of what some of our friends consider to be the fantasy cruising life we're living, real life intrudes: Gary Lott was a helicopter pilot who flew for Sonoma County Sheriff in the early-mid 80s. I was the unit sergeant at that time, so I was Gary's nominal boss. Previous pilots in the unit were great people and fine pilots, who had a big, positive impact in my life - i.e. Ed Wilkinson and Keith Gundersen who also have passed and are missed. Gary brought skills to the task which we had not seen before, specifically vertical reference long-line work. Gary was a character and enjoyed the role of curmudgeon (in the best sense of the word) with his trademark straw cowboy hat. Underneath his apparent irascibility, dwelt a kind heart and unshakeable loyalty to his friends.

Following his time with SCSO, Gary flew on the North Slope of AK and eventually ended up flying for CDF, retiring 4-5 years ago to the cruising life aboard his and his wife Linda's catamaran in the Carribean. (Linda, by the way, is a cousin of Dorothy's.) Last October Gary began experiencing some symptoms, which ultimately turned out to be melanoma. He's been at Linda's mother's place in Santa Rosa for the past couple months undergoing treatments, but died this past week. I'm glad he and Linda had the chance to spend (way too little) time cruising.

In the police world (as in others) there are crazy things which happen, that only someone who has lived in that world would believe. There are many good reasons to mourn Gary's passing; but a purely selfish reason of mine are the crazy things that happened in that helicopter, which only Gary, me and maybe a paramedic or two would believe actually happened, cause we were there. With Gary gone, those incidents become less real and I wonder myself if that all really happened. Part of my history passes with Gary and soon enough (to quote a character from Blade Runner) it will all be lost "like tears in the rain".