For dinner this evening, Ann had long planned to go to The Saltry Restaurant, a fine dining restaurant on tiny Ismailof Island in Halibut Cove situated across Kachemak Bay from Homer. Open since 1984, the restaurant has become something of an institution that has garnered nationwide press and acclaim. Diners sit on the boardwalk and eat with some of the most gorgeous views anywhere. We were both very excited for our experience there especially because it is the one thing that our innkeeper, Michael, had insisted that we must do while in Homer.
Because of its location, Halibut Cove is reachable only by boat or floatplane. To get to The Saltry, we booked round-trip tickets on their ferry, the Danny J, which runs between Homer and Ismailof Island twice a day, once for lunch and once for dinner. I thought it was pretty neat that we had to catch a ferry to dinner.
Knowing that the parking situation in late afternoon down on the Homer Spit across from the harbor is extremely difficult, we left the inn at 3:30, an hour before we needed to check in at 4:30 for our 5:00pm departure time. Naturally (and thankfully) we found parking immediately. After checking in and receiving our ferry passes, we spent 45 minutes walking the marina where I took a bunch of photos, the best of which I posted previously.
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Kachemak Bay Ferry, the Danny J |
At around 4:35 or so, the Danny J came puttering into the harbor and with all the loading zones full of charter boats letting off fishing clients, moored a few slips away. The Danny J is a 42-foot wooden, immaculately maintained, white-over-Kelly green fishing boat built in 1941 by Olson & Winge in Seattle. It has been in service as a passenger ferry and as a tour boat since 1966.
Among the last to board, Ann and I headed for the stern, where we could duck out of the wind behind the small, perhaps 6-passenger, cabin. It was also the ideal place from which to take photos as we made our way across the bay to Ismailof Island, perhaps 6 miles distant.
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Masked Up and Ready to Back Away |
Just about 5:00 we backed away from the dock and after a quick safety briefing, we got underway for the approximately 55-minute trip. Compare this with a 20- or 25-minute trip in a water taxi equipped with twin 250 or 350 motors. The
Danny J putters along slowly: it is after all a historic boat with an old motor, but with the majority of the riders deckside and exposed to the elements and seas, slow and steady is the order of the day.
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USCGC Hickory |
As we pulled out of the harbor, we motored past the 225-foot USCGC
Hickory buoy tender, aka
Bull of the North, home ported in Homer. As a buoy tender, the
Hickory is primarily tasked with maintaining aids to navigation, but serves multiple roles as do most Coastie boats. We also passed the 110-foot USCGC
Naushon moored dockside in the deeper water inside the harbor.
Motoring along ever so sedately across the water, we had really good visibility, a vast change from our trip over to Halibut Cove yesterday. Our pilot would slow every now and again to show us several sea otters as we passed. I also managed to catch a few sea birds in focus while we were underway.
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Red-necked Phalaropes |
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Poot Peak and Grewingk Glacier |
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Water Level View of Homer Spit |
After about 50 minutes of sedate motoring across the bay, we arrived at the opening of Halibut Cove, a secluded waterway sandwiched between Ismailof Island and the mainland and Kachemak Bay State Park. The opening to the channel called The Narrows was flanked on the mainland side by a bald eagle and on the island side by a retired lighthouse, now high-end lodging.
Halibut Cove has a small contingent of year-round residents whose number swells in the summer months. Many of the residents make their living fishing or raising oysters. Along the raised boardwalks, several artists have galleries. The Saltry gets its name from extensive herring salting and packing operations in the 1910s and 1920s, before the herring fishery died. Most of the village was torn down and the lumber repurposed in building the town of Homer.
We pulled in to the dock just below The Saltry and climbed up the gangway to the boardwalk above. Everyone from the Danny J was seated at once, first come, first serve for the tables. Ann and I selected a round two-top right on the railing and just outside the open, covered seating area bearing an oval Saltry sign and a pair of shed moose antlers.
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Seating with a View |
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View over Ann's Shoulder |
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The Danny J, Just Below Us |
After the initial chaos of getting a boat load of diners situated at tables, servers started to come around with silverware and menus. As I understand it from speaking with a couple of employees, most of them work the ski resorts in the winter and The Saltry in the summer, bumming around in the shoulder seasons. Sad to say that our server was just phoning it in, having a captive audience and not really needing to compete for business.
After Ann and I got drinks, we started looking at the very limited menu. This is not a criticism of the menu in that if the crew can focus on fewer dishes, they should be able to execute them extremely well. Also sad to say, three of our four dishes we could not recommend. The halibut seviche was nearly unseasoned. The pickled salmon was tough, crudely executed, and would have made a Scandinavian pickled fish lover cry.
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Halibut Seviche |
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Pickled Red Salmon |
For entrees, we ordered halibut collar (a special offering made in the same manner as their regular halibut dish) and sablefish. The halibut collar was well executed and the only dish that met our approval. The halibut collar has a higher fat content and is therefore moister than the fillet flesh, which tends to be drier. The crew did a great job with the halibut and the carrots underneath were perfect.
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Halibut Collar |
As for the sablefish, the portion was small, on the order of 4-5 ounces, which was not a good value for the $30 asking price. I'm not a big eater, so portion size is neither here nor there in my evaluation, but I am big on proper cooking. I have always told my line cooks that sablefish comes with training wheels; that is, anyone can cook it well because it has enough fat so that it will not dry out if you overcook it a little. Moreover, it comes with its own figurative pop-up timer: the flesh will start to flake apart when it it nears readiness. In short, it is a chef's dream fish. I never knew that you could overcook sablefish, but congratulations to The Saltry crew for dispelling that silly notion.
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Terribly Overcooked Sablefish |
After our exceedingly disappointing dinner, we consoled ourselves that at least we had a great time sitting and dining in one of the more stunning locations that we have ever visited. Before the Danny J boarded for the 2100 trip back to Homer, we had about 40 minutes for a brief walk along the boardwalks and trails of Ismailof Island, taking in more wildflowers and vistas of this special place. I would have liked to have spent more time walking about, but we were constrained by our ride back home.
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Bells-of-Scotland Grow All Over on Rock Faces |
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Bells-of-Scotland Detail |
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Alpine Forget-Me-Mot, Myosotis alpestris, the Alaska State Flower |
The return trip took about 50 minutes into the setting sun which cast a golden glow on everything around us.
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