Prince Rupert to Baker Inlet

We slipped out of Prince Rupert timed for low water slack at Watts Narrows, the only way into Baker Inlet. The long no-wake zone gave us an hour of slow sightseeing: the town waterfront, towering stacks of shipping containers, and the massive new dock under construction just south of the grain terminal—likely for LPG.

Fun fact: Prince Rupert is the deepest natural, ice-free harbor in North America and the closest West Coast port to Asia—500 nautical miles nearer than others in the Pacific Northwest, saving ships up to 60 hours of sailing time.

Southbound in Grenville Channel—better known as The Ditch—we had an easy ride: light winds, scattered clouds, and just a handful of other cruisers moving in both directions. Traffic overall feels lighter this year. The Prince Rupert harbormaster confirmed it—pleasure boat numbers are down about 40% in both Alaska and Port McNeill. Cow Bay Marina, which normally turns away over 100 boats in a season, has been only “full-ish.”

The Approach to Baker Inlet

This was our first visit, and without the large white mark on Griffon Point you’d be hard-pressed to spot the entrance. Watts Narrows earns its name: narrow, winding, and blind to opposing traffic. A securité call is essential.

That said, it’s well charted and reassuringly deep. Even at a –10.89 low tide in Prince Rupert we never saw less than 36 feet under the keel, with most depths over 60. You can transit at either low or high slack—high slack makes it feel a little less tight.

Beyond the narrows it’s 3.7 miles to the head of the inlet, with shoaling that comes up quickly. We dropped anchor in 60–70 feet of soft silt that held well.

Prawns, Corn, and Quiet

With OceanFlyer settled, we couldn’t resist trying out our brand-new Bauer prawn trap. We’d picked up a three-day fishing license online and had two “local secret” spots marked by friends. Bauer recommends a first pull at 30 minutes. Our haul? Eight fat keepers. Not bad for a test run—bait refreshed, the pot went right back down for the night.

Dinner was burgers and the gorgeous sweet corn we’d scored at the Prince Rupert pop-up stand. Appetizer? Those same just-caught prawns, still snapping when they hit the pan.

Baker Inlet was ours alone that evening. Salmon leapt around us, but the bears stayed hidden. A calm night, a quiet anchorage, and a perfect end to the day.