Meyers Chuck to Canoe Passage

Armed with our Alaska fishing permits and big hopes for spot shrimp, we set out for a pair of "secret" prawn spots just outside Canoe Passage—tips from friends who swore by them.

overview of meyer’s chuck

good look at the dock layout at meyer’s chuck

the view toward clarence strait

the back bay on theleft is lined with houses and a few provate docks

not to be used for navigation. color enhanced image showing the rocks and green mark at the entrance to meyer’s chuck

The weather flirted with us all day: the clouds occasionally cracked just enough to tease sunshine before tossing down another cold shower. Classic early-season Alaska.

Ernest Sound treated us to smooth seas, and the scenery was pure postcard—until we spotted the commercial prawners. The season opened two days ago, and the pros were already hard at work, strings of pots blanketing both of our targeted drop zones near Fisherman’s Chuck. We could’ve set ours too… if we wanted to sit on top of it all day. We didn’t. This wasn’t a prawn standoff we felt like joining—especially in 49-degree drizzle—so we kept cruising toward Canoe Passage.

Alaska has a way of making you feel small. Charts suggest tight inlets and narrow cuts, but when you arrive, they’re wide enough for a cruise ship. Canoe Passage was no different—majestic cliffs, sweeping bends, and deep, green solitude.

We dropped the hook in 40 feet near a rushing stream and watched a blacktail deer amble along the shoreline. A few sunny flickers broke through the gloom, but not enough to tempt us off the boat—except for a quick spin with the drone.

the small creek provided a pleasant serenade

looking north at the entrance to canoe passage

the chart makes the passage to the south seem impassble, but we saw a 50 foot fishboat traverse it.

By evening, not a soul had joined us. Just us, the stream, and a peaceful stillness in this not-so-little corner of wild Alaska.