2015 Alaska and Western Canada 2
A journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip through Alaska and Western Canada from August 13September 30, 2015. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, c. 2015. Cover: On the ferry between Cold Bay and False Pass.
Alaska and Western Canada August 13—September 30, 2015 Vol. 2 September 1—September 15 including the Aleutians
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Tuesday, September 1 to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory We were up at 3:30 am and in our car lane for the ferry by 5:30; the MV Malaspina was underway on schedule at 7:00 am. I was delighted to see the bright sun after all the rain we have encountered. After a full breakfast, we settled into comfortable seats on the observation deck. Although it was a clear day, the wind was chilly when we went out to take pictures. We passed glaciers and ice Mields on both sides, with plummeting melt water streams every 400 yards or so. The sky became overcast as we proceeded north to Skagway after an interim stop at Haines. At one point, I succumbed to last night’s lack of sleep and napped in my seat; Jake scolded me that I had missed some amazing scenery.
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The ferry docked at Skagway at 1:30, after cruising past four massive cruise ships that had descended on this town of under 900. With its past tied to the Klondike Gold Rush, Skagway is rightfully a popular tourist destination, having one of the most colorful histories in Alaska. In 1896, gold was found in the Klondike region of Canada’s Yukon Territory. Beginning in the summer of 1897, thousands of hopeful miners poured into the new town and prepared for the 500-mile journey to the gold Mields in Canada. This
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journey began for many when they climbed the mountains over the White Pass above the town and onward across the Canadian border, where they built barges and Mloated down the Yukon River to Dawson City. As we drove through town, we saw masses of people wandering along the colorfully restored buildings that line the main street. Ubiquitous “SelMie Sticks” seemed to capture every moment and every movement. Jake even saw a woman with one extending from her pants.
During the Klondike Gold Rush, Skagway merchants thrived on the stream of people going to and from the Canadian gold Gields ‌ and they still do today.
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We followed the nine-mile road out of town to Dyea, a ghost town on the Taiya River on the south side of the Chilkoot Pass. During the Klondike Gold Rush, prospectors disembarked at its port and used the Chilkoot Trail, a treacherous Tlingit trade route over the Coast Mountains, to begin their journey to the gold Mields around Dawson City. Today, little remains of the town. But deep in a dense forest with a moss covered Mloor, we found a small burial ground, the Slide Cemetery, where gold seekers buried those who were killed in an avalanche on Palm Sunday, April 3, 1898.
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Dyea 7
By 3:30 pm, we were driving back through Skagway, continuing on the Klondike Highway (YT 2) over the White Pass to Whitehorse. The road ascends to 3,292 feet as it crosses from Alaska into Canada’s Yukon Territory. For much of the drive, the topography is noticeably desolate; the road climbs above the tree line, with rocky outcrops and small lakes surrounded by high snowy peaks.
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As we descended, spruce trees started to pop up. Then deciduous trees appeared, already turning gold and orange. It was a beautiful drive, in spite of the deteriorating weather. At Carcross, the rain caught up with us and the remainder of our drive to Whitehorse was a rainy one. Just as we turned onto YT 1, we passed two brown bears near the road. I wish we could have stopped, but the wet roads and car close behind us made it impossible to get a closer look. We reached Whitehorse at 7:00 pm and checked into the Gold Rush Inn, located in the center of town. 10
At the suggestion of the woman at the front desk, we had dinner at Klondike Rib and Salmon, housed in the two oldest buildings in town. The dining room was originally a tent-frame bakery that opened in 1900. Today, the tent is decorated with Klondike-themed artifacts, from snowshoes to mining tools. The restaurant is obviously the most popular in town. We arrived at 7:30 pm and put our names on the list, going back to the bar at our hotel for local Yukon beers before returning 45 minutes later when a table opened up. We ordered the house special (BBQ salmon and ribs) and white wine served in Mason jars. At the end of the meal, we enjoyed talking to the people sitting on both sides of us—visitors from Winnipeg, and a local woman and her family. They gave us enough suggestions for a week in Whitehorse—and we had wondered how people spend their time around here.
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Wednesday, September 2 (my birthday) to Tok, Alaska The change to Yukon time meant another short night; the fact that I stayed up late writing didn’t help. We ate breakfast at the Burnt Toast Café, a cozy place that would have been a nice way to start the day, had it not been for a large gathering of women who were celebrating one of their own. We could not Migure out the occasion, other than that it was not about my birthday, although it did involve testimonials and a pile of gifts. Happy occasion notwithstanding, it was a bit much for Mirst thing in the morning. We escaped the speeches and walked around the corner to Fireweed Books on Main Street, located in a brightly painted clapboard building. The shop purports to have “the Minest collection of Northern books North of 60 degrees.” The lower level had a nice selection of antiquarian titles kept in a separate room where several shelves were dedicated to the works of British-Canadian poet Robert W. Service (1874-1958). Service’s poems reMlect his love for the Yukon. Jake bought me a copy of Rhymes of a Rolling
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Stone, published in 1912. It will remind me of being in Whitehorse on this, my birthday. We spent a couple of hours in town, visiting the S.S. Klondike, a Canadian National Historic Site. Originally built in 1929 as an ore hauler, the Klondike was salvaged and re-launched in 1937 as a sternwheeler. It was once the largest such ship in the upper Yukon River, operating until 1955. We were free to walk through the freight deck on our own, checking out the engine room and crew’s quarters. A narrow stairway led up to the saloon deck where we could look into the kitchen and First Class dining room and see the small First Class stateroom. After sampling their products last night, we visited the Yukon Brewing Company, makers of “Beer Worth Freezin’ For,” where we learned that Yukon beer is distributed throughout Canada and in several foreign countries. We left with a couple of teeshirts, and a bottle of Berry Marc to enjoy later. After Milling the car, we left town on YT 1, part of the Alaska Highway.
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Kluane National Park UNESCO
By 11:15 am, we were on our way to Haines Junction. We saw warnings to look out for wildlife, but saw only a lone red fox darting across the road. The morning was overcast and chilly; the woman at the gas station in Whitehorse told Jake that this weather was not typical of the season but could always be expected. At least, the rain is keeping the threat of forest Mires down to “Low.� The drive was still beautiful, with the snowy peaks of the Kluane Ice Fields, a glacial area, chiseled against the grey sky. As we entered Kluane National Park, the sky cleared and we were treated to panoramic views of the mountains leading down to Kluane Lake.
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As we drove along, I was looking down when Jake exclaimed that he had seen a guy on a unicycle, moving down the highway. He could not believe his eyes, and I had a hard time believing them too. He insisted that yes, he had seen a man on a unicycle on this desolate road. He commented that the roads through the vast Yukon wilderness were amazingly well maintained and free of trafMic. But he spoke too soon. Just after we paused at Pickhandle Lake to take pictures of the mountains reMlected in the still water, we encountered a series of road construction segments, several of which involved waiting for a pilot car to lead us out, causing dust, mud, and aggravation. We crossed back
from Canada to Alaska at 4:30 pm Alaska time, driving through beautiful wilderness until we reached the remote town of Tok (“Toke”) just after 7:00 pm. We stayed in a new log cabin next to Fast Eddy’s Restaurant. Sitting out on our own little porch, we sipped rye and watched the trucks and SUVs rumble into the dusty parking lot for dinner at the “best place for miles around” because it is just about the only place for miles around. Soon, we followed the crowd of “Sourdoughs” and had dinner with Eddy. Jake ordered a giant Alaska burger and I had a steak sandwich, both served on homemade buns. It was a great way to celebrate my birthday.
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Thursday, September 3 to McCarthy, AK We were on AK 2, the Edgerton Highway, by 8:30 am; we had decided to skip breakfast and get an earlier start. We had the highway to ourselves, enjoying Mine views of the St. Elias Mountains and the turning leaves reMlected in small ponds that dotted the countryside. Jake had to slow in numerous places for frost heaves, the mounds in the road that are created by permafrost.
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We stopped for BLTs and homemade tomato soup at Gilpatrick’s 1914 Chitina Hotel, at the end of the Edgerton Highway. From there we negotiated the McCarthy Road, 62 muddy miles of gravel, potholes, and washboards.
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The route follows the railbed of the old Copper River & Northwestern Railway, and employs the 1910 bridge, 238 feet above the Kuskulana River. 20
Copper River
By the time we reached the end of the road and parked at the campground on the edge of the Kennecott River, the car was so evenly encrusted with mud that it looked like a concrete statue. We had read that the road had been greatly improved since our last visit to McCarthy, but other than a 13-mile paved section, it did not seem very different at all. After we walked across the footbridge, the Golden Saloon van picked us up and drove us into town, just as it had in 2009. This time, our driver was Erin, who also serves as a desk clerk at Ma Johnson’s, where we are staying.
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We are in Room 6, one of the larger rooms, with twin beds and a sink. Ma Johnson’s is more of a living museum than a hotel, with no electrical outlets or ensuite bathrooms, so the presence of a sink was a real plus. We took the ten-minute walk through town and then returned to the hotel and sat out on the veranda. We had a good chat with owner Neil Darish, whom we had met during our last stay. Actually, our conversation started when the small paper cups we brought down to use as shot glasses for our traveller rye disintegrated onto our Adirondack chairs. Neil went across the street to the Golden Saloon (which he owns as well) and brought us some real glasses. We enjoyed sitting on the stoop, listening to snatches of conversation from visitors, and watching a parade of local ATVs.
McCarthy, AK
Neil Darish, owner of Ma Johnson’s Hotel and star of Discovery Channel’s Edge of Alaska 23
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This is blank because Jake did not get a picture of me arm wrestling.
Around 7:00, we walked over to the Golden Saloon for dinner. We chose a table near the stage and dawdled over our meal to keep our seats for Open Mic Thursday. Things started around 9:30; hosts Bob and Spencer were great MCs. We enjoyed the entertainment, both by the two of them and by others who signed up to perform. One fellow sang a song in Mongolian, and when the crowd demanded more, he said that it was the only song he knew in Mongolian. A Spanish tourist gave a more operatic vocal performance; he was apparently going to play the guitar as well, until he decided that the instrument provided was not up to his standards. A group of young women
on a tour led a Watermelon Crawl line dance, encouraging everyone to join in. Spencer asked if anyone was celebrating a birthday; one of the women on the tour raised her hand. He then asked if anyone had celebrated a birthday this week, so I raised mine. Two chairs were set up across from each other at a small table, and we were invited to arm-wrestle. We joined hands, looked each other in the eye, and as everyone sang “Happy Birthday,� we went at it. The crowd had to sing it three times, since neither of us was about to give in. But at last, I had her! Unfortunately, Jake had picked that time to visit the men’s room and missed the whole thing. 25
Friday, September 4 McCarthy, AK It rained last night and the potholes in the rutted dirt road in front of Ma Johnson’s were full of water. Until the weather dampened our enthusiasm, we had planned to visit the Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark today, as we had in 2009. But since we had visited the Mines on our last visit, we decided to forego the tour this time. Neither did we take another Mlightseeing tour on this miserable day. Rather, we took advantage of being somewhere for two nights to take it easy. While I worked on my journal and culled my photographs, Jake checked his emails and took a nap. I felt a little guilty, sitting there in Ma’s parlor 26
while the summer hires ran up and down the narrow stairs carrying laundry baskets and cleaning supplies, getting things ready for the next group of guests who start checking in at 3:00. After Jake woke up, we went across the street for dinner at the Golden Saloon. This evening, things were a lot quieter; tables of summer workers and guests spotted the room. The bar, however, was packed. Talk was convivial; virtually every man sported a ball cap. One of the performers from last night drove up to the door in an ancient truck, which he could only exit and enter by crawling through the window, which he did with impressive agility.
Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark is considered the best remaining example of early 20th Century copper mining. From 1911 to 1938, nearly $200 million worth of copper was processed there. At the peak of operation, approximately 300 people worked in the mill town and 200-300 in the mines.
Susan Hanes, 2009 27
Saturday, September 5 to Anchorage, AK Rebecca, the other desk clerk from Ma’s, revved up the Golden Saloon van and dropped us off at the footbridge leading to the camping/parking lot where we had left the car. Yesterday’s rain had washed the solid coating of mud to ugly streaks. We started the drive back along the McCarthy Road at 7:45 am; this time, it took three and a half hours to traverse those 62 miles. After the rain, the road was horrendous. It was even more potholed and rutted than before, and we encountered several places where rocks, trees, and mud had slid into the road. Not only was Jake concerned about getting a Mlat tire with all those railroad spikes and rocks; he had to be careful not to slip off the road in the mud. Although it was not a good picture day, we did have interesting views of the Copper River enveloped in mist. 28
We stopped again at the Chitina Hotel for lunch, learning from our waitress that the correct pronunciation of the town is “CHIT-na.” I commented to her that they are really well situated, as there is nothing else like it in the vicinity. It was a pleasant stop, both before and after negotiating the McCarthy Road. At noon, we drove to Glennallen and then headed west on the Glenn Highway to Anchorage. The road took us along the Matanuska River Valley, sandwiched between coastal and interior mountains. Today, the views of the glacier were sadly impacted by the foggy, drizzly weather. Clouds obscured the mountaintops of the Chugach Range as we drove along that glaciated area. We drove through several designated slide areas and through other areas that should have been so designated. At Palmer, we got
tangled up in gridlock trafMic around the Alaska State Fair, which was in full swing. We could see the long lines for carnival rides, and vehicles parked everywhere. Everyone else was on the road with us. I checked the fair schedule; we wished our timing had allowed us to hear “Hobo” Jim Varsos, Alaska’s OfMicial Balladeer, who was performing this evening. We had such happy memories of hearing him in Seward on our Alaskan trip of 2009. We reached Anchorage at 5:00 pm and drove through the downtown area, where we noticed the Historic Anchorage Hotel, restored to its 1930s elegance. But tonight is a Hampton Inn night, as we have organizing, repacking, and laundry to do in anticipation of the next eight nights before we return from Kodiak and Dutch Harbor.
Hobo Jim Varsos 29
Sunday, September 6 Aboard the MV Tustumena Sporting freshly laundered clothes and organized carry-ons, Jake and I left Anchorage, driving south to Homer on AK 1, headed for the Aleutian segment of our trip. We drove along the Turnagain Arm of Cook Inlet on a stunning segment of road that opens to tidal Mlats and ice Mield vistas, encircled by the Chugach Mountains. Unfortunately, the inclement weather dulled the spectacular scenery. That did not seem to make a bit of difference to the birders and wildlife-spotters lining the roads, armed with cameras and NFL-grade zoom lenses. We crossed onto the Kenai Peninsula, following the Sterling Highway along the Kenai River where we saw wader-wearing anglers out Mishing for salmon. A little wet weather does not seem to deter Alaskans from enjoying the outdoors on a Sunday afternoon. Along the way, we spotted two mountain goats on a
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rocky outcrop above us and a moose cow by the side of the road. We stopped at Ninilchik to visit its 1901 Russian Orthodox Church, perched on a grassy hill. We had also gone there on our last visit. Although the sun was shining the last time we were there, today the little church looked just as enchanting, its white clapboard frame contrasting against the overcast skies. We reached Homer at 1:30 pm and checked out options for parking the car while we take the ferry to Kodiak and on to Dutch Harbor. We were pleased that the Land’s End Resort, located at the end of the Spit and next to the ferry terminal, agreed to let us leave our car in their lot. We made reservations to stay there the night we Mly back from Dutch Harbor. With that business attended to, we adjourned to the bar for a late lunch and waited for our boarding time.
Ninilchik
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Thoughts before boarding the ferry for Kodiak Homer, AK 4:00 pm I am sitting at the end of Homer Spit in the bar at Land’s End, waiting to board the ferry for Kodiak in a few hours. Jake sits across from me, patiently looking out of the large window by our table. It is a wet and dreary day; I Gind it hard to differentiate the grey skies from the waters of the bay. I am looking out for any indication of waves. After all, we are heading out to “big waters,” a term I heard when discussing our decision to take the ferry to Unalaska Island, the end of the Aleutian Chain run. When I am startled that a Gishing boat out to the left is rocking wildly, Jake points out that a speeding motorboat has just passed it. Oh, OK. I am feeling pretty exasperated with myself. There is nothing that I like more than experiencing new things and meeting new people. And yet, here I am, as I always am, facing my usual “anticipatory anxiety.” Looking out at those dark clouds, it doesn’t matter that the weather report (that I have checked every hour our so—for the past three weeks) says that the winds are at 5 MPH. I am still imagining hanging on for dear life in a wild sea—that same sea that stars on TV’s Deadliest Catch. My worries are twofold: my hair being a mess, and sinking—in that order. But once we board the MV Tustumena, I hope that what usually happens, will kick in: I will be in the moment and give up those thoughts that Gill my too-vivid imagination. There is so much I want to learn and experience aboard the 50-year old veteran of “the cradle of storms”: What is the crew like? Who are the other passengers aboard this 32
legendary vessel that has been responsible for saving numerous lives during the half century of its’ own? Who are the people who depend on the “Trusty Tusty” for their links with the rest of the world? What is life like for the people who live in the tiny communities on those vulnerable islands that dare to reach into the most demanding seas in the world? I hope that this is a week full (enough) of excitement. Now, if I could just calm down, I will be ready to attack those 5 MPH winds, and the experiences that come with them.
At 5:45 pm, the MV Tustumena approached and docked at the pier at Homer. We were able to board the ship after several trailers were loaded using the ship’s distinctive exterior elevator. The crewmember who had been directing the vehicles led us up the pedestrian gangway and carried my bag to Cabin 105. The Kodiak High School football team (the Bears) was already settled in, Milling virtually all the booths fore and aft; most of the kids were playing cards, while others were plugged into earphones. We met Coach Mark, who told us that his team had done well, in spite of being beaten by Soldotna, Alaska’s number one football team. The boys are young, he stressed, and there is a good future for the team. He told us
that they next play at North Pole; that trip involves a 12-hour ferry and 14-hour bus ride each way. Mark suggested locations where we might spot Kodiak bears Mishing for salmon, and suggested Henry’s as his favorite place for seafood. We also had a long chat with Kate, a crew member who fell in love with Unalaska seven years ago and wintered over there last year. She said that she loves the “Chain Run” that goes out to Dutch Harabor and told us that we are in for a treat. We have now explored each deck of the ship, from Solarium to Main Deck, and are ensconced on the lower bunks of our four-bunk cabin. It is 8:45 pm as the Tustumena is pulling out of port.
MV Tustumena
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Monday, September 7 (Labor Day) to Kodiak, AK We felt only a slight rocking during the night and awoke to a clear morning. The ship arrived at Port Lions on Kodiak Island at 7:00 am; we were up and ready to disembark and take pictures of this community of less than 200 built by the US Government and the Lions Club after the earthquake of 1964 destroyed local villages; it was named in honor of the Club. We were underway at 7:45, calling an hour later at Ouzinkie, (population 150). This time, we stayed on board and Minished breakfast; we were able to enjoy views from the deck, including the 1890 Russian Orthodox Nativity of our Lord Church, which I could see tucked among the trees.
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Port Lions 37
Ouzinkie 38
Just after 10:45 am, we docked at Kodiak. On most days, Kodiak is enveloped in rain and mist, earning its nickname, “Alaska’s Emerald Isle.” Today, though, the sun was shining brightly and the water was calm and blue. Kodiak was welcoming us with her best face. The island of Kodiak is 100 miles long and sixty miles wide, making it the largest island in the US. After discovering that the Visitor Center was closed for Labor Day, we walked a couple of blocks to the Best Western motel where we have reservations. It was too early for us to check in, but we were offered a shuttle to the airport where we rented a Toyota Corolla for the next 24 hours. On a cloudless afternoon, we drove the entire eastern coast of the island. 39
We drove north to Fort Abercrombie State Historical Park, site of the ruins of a World War II coastal defense installation. It sits high over steep surf-pounded cliffs and is surrounded by mosscovered spruce forests.
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We cruised along Rezanof Drive, curving along the coasts and coves of the eastern part of the island, until we reached Pasagshak Beach, a popular Mishing destination, where we saw crowds out on this glorious Labor Day afternoon. At the end of the road, near Fossil Beach, we passed the Kodiak Launch Complex, a commercial rocket launch facility for sub-orbital and orbital space vehicles. The facility has handled 16 launches since it opened in 1998. There was recently a malfunction and resulting explosion; Mark, the coach we met on the ferry, is part of a team to rebuild the facility. We also drove by the Coast Guard Base and Air Station, one of the largest in the Coast Guard.
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Pasagshak Beach 43
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Holy Resurrection Church
The Russians in Kodiak The community now known as Kodiak was established in 1793 as Pavlovsk, and was the Girst permanent Russian settlement in North America. It was founded after Russian fur traders arrived and, realizing how proGitable the sea otter trade was, set up a settlement. We saw several examples of Russian inGluence. The Russian Orthodox Holy Resurrection Church, built in 1945, is a replacement for one that burned in 1943. The Baranov Museum is housed in a building that was built in 1810 as a storage facility by the Russian American Company.
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Just before it closed for today’s holiday, we slipped into the Kodiak Island Brewing Company. By then I was feeling tired, and Jake had to talk me in to leaving the comfort of our room to go for dinner. We started at the B&B Bar, an authentic Misherman’s hangout that is the oldest licensed bar in Alaska; the actual license is framed in a case with other memorabilia. The B&B refers to founders Blodgett and Blynn, who opened their Barroom in 1906. (There were numerous other suggestions for what the B’s stood for scribbled on the walls of the Ladies’ Room.) The building, located on Shelikof Street near the docks and seafood processing plants, is not much more than a shack, but was full of atmosphere. A young, blonde, and laid-back bartender named Laura watched over the six guys who had gotten there before us. They all looked like the quintessential Misherman: facial hair and longish, unkempt hair under some kind of cap (ball cap or cowboy hat) that was faded and crushed. I ordered a glass of chardonnay, feeling somewhat silly doing so; I remarked to my horriMied husband that at least it was on it menu and ignored his concern as to how long the bottle had probably been open. We eventually warmed to our surroundings and started taking to the fellow sitting next to me. He introduced himself as Jeff, and told us he has been Mishing Alaska for the past seven years, from Kodiak to Dutch Harbor. Hailing from Spokane, Washington, he confessed that his passion is chess, of all things. On the way to the Ladies’, I met Ken, or “Cowboy,” as he prefers, who was out in the alley throwing a stick with his dog. He told me that he had come to Alaska looking for a fresh start; he was wearing a cowboy hat and a teeshirt that said, “Home of the Free—Because of the Brave.” Eventually, Jake and I left for dinner at Henry’s, “Serving Alaskan Seafood Since 1957.” My platter of scallops, halibut, and prawns was terriMic, but Jake complained that his meal was overdone. 46
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Tuesday, September 8 Kodiak, AK We left the hotel at 9:30 am and drove around town and along the road adjacent to the harbor where canning and Mish processing operations are located; more than 700 Mishing boats call Kodiak home. Out on the spit, we stopped to see a memorial honoring those who died in the 1964 Good Friday Earthquake and Tsunami. A bronze plaque is mounted on a rock from the granite quarry on Afognak Island, where so many villagers perished. The survivors were relocated to what is now known as Port Lions, where we brieMly docked yesterday. At 10:00 opening time, we were at the door of the Alutiiq Museum. The museum celebrates the history and culture of the Alutiiq people who have occupied parts of the island for more than 7,000 years. Of particular interest to us was an exhibit of Alutiiq basket weaving. Before we returned the car, we stopped at the Baranov Museum, which we will visit in depth tomorrow before the ferry departs. We wanted to see what baskets they might have in their shop and were impressed by a Minely-woven miniature
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grass basket made by Arlene Skinner, whose works are featured in various museums throughout Alaska. We got the rental car back to Avis by noon; the Best Western’s courtesy van picked us up and returned us to town where we poked into several mediocre gift shops. We ordered a pint at Tony’s Bar (the “Biggest Navigational Hazard” in Kodiak) and sat at the bar, watching WEC World Extreme CageMighting reruns; we love these opportunities to see and talk to local people. In a drizzle, we walked back to the hotel at 2:00 and enjoyed a little down time. That evening, we kept things simple and had dinner in the Chart Room at the hotel. Our mediocre meal was enhanced by our discovery of framed photographs of the 1964 earthquake lining the walls of the dining room hallway and an interesting Alutiiq book on a table in the lobby. Two Journeys: A Companion to the Giinaquq Like a Face Exhibition gave us a greater appreciation of our visit to the Alutiiq Museum, where we had seen that exhibit this morning.
Alutiiq Musuem
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Baranov Museum Alutiiq and Aleutian Baskets
Arlene Skinner, weaver of Alutiiq-style baskets 50
Wednesday, September 9 On Board the MV Tustumena Well, the weather in Kodiak this morning was not exactly what I would have chosen for the beginning of our ferry out the Aleutian Chain: rainy, chilly, and windy. Checking the marine forecast on the Internet is kind of like looking up a medical issue online. You really have no idea what they are telling you, but whatever it is, it does not sound good. After breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and the van delivered us at the ferry terminal at 11:45 am. The Tustumena from Homer docked this morning at 8:15, but boarding was not until 4:00. Until then, we were pretty much prisoners in the 4-seat waiting area of the Alaska Marine Highway ofMice. There was no place for us to store our luggage, since Federal Regulations have determined that no unaccompanied baggage is to be left in any airport, train station, or ship terminal; unfortunate, but understandable in today’s environment. Jake and I took turns staying with the bags. He left to visit the Baranov Museum and the National Wildlife Refuge Visitor Center for an hour, and then spelled me so that I could leave and take a look around. Fortunately, both museums were across the street from the terminal. It was at the Baranov Museum that I had arranged to meet Arlene Skinner, a weaver of Alutiiq-style baskets. In spite of being born a Cheyenne, she is married to an Alutiiq and has lived in Kodiak for more than 30 years, learning traditional weaving from Alutiiq masters. She brought a basket for me to see, but I actually preferred the more traditional one she had for sale in the museum shop. I found it meaningful to meet her, as it has been to meet other exceptional native artists on this trip. While Jake and I waited in the terminal, I asked the agent about the weather. He showed me a map and explained how the winds circle down from the Arctic, as warm fronts press up from the PaciMic. These winds collide in the Bering Sea, on the north side of the Aleutians. The Shelikof Strait, which we would be crossing, acts as a funnel for these winds. Called “Williwaws” by the Alaskans, they can be pretty ferocious. The lee of Kodiak would offer us protection, but once we sail through Whale Pass to Shelikof Strait, it is hard to predict what we will encounter there. After that, the warmer winds from the south will be with us as we continue down the Chain. I am not sure that I entirely understood what he said, but he had a reassuring voice. 51
At 4:00 pm, we were allowed to board. The Tustumena is no cruise ship, but a real working ferry with a mission to call at a half-dozen ports along the way, dropping off vehicles, supplies, and people. We were assigned to Cabin 102, a 4-berth cabin with bathroom. Although far from spacious, it works well for two people. We stowed our gear and went up to the observation deck where a small group of passengers had congregated to watch our departure from Kodiak. There are not many others on this trip with us. Our fellow passengers included Carol and Dave from Anchorage, Carla and John from Houston, Kim and Kevin from Kodiak, two Swiss women, and Larry from Kansas City. Becky and her baby daughter live in Chignik, where Becky is the City Clerk. Another Chignik couple and their daughter, a health worker, were on board as well. The Chignik people had all been on vacation in Kodiak.
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We sailed around Cape Spruce and through Whale Pass to Shelikof Strait. That area can be pretty rough, especially when the boat reaches open water before arriving at Chignik. I wondered what was in store while I watched through the window as a crewmember tried to take down the Alaska Mlag in the wind and slanting rain. For a moment, I thought he was going to lose it. After a few waves rounding Cape Spruce, we had a period of smooth sailing; we thought that would be a good time to have dinner. After we returned to our room, the rolling picked up. I had checked out the forecast on the Purser’s bulletin board. There was a gale warning, and 40-knot winds and 18-foot seas were predicted tonight. I am not sure if I really wanted to know that. Jake and I settled into our cabin and secured our belongings, unsure of what to expect. We got into our bunks at 8:30 and waited.
MV Tustumena
The MV Tustumena, named after a glacier on the Kenai Peninsula, is a ferry vessel for the Alaska Marine Highway System. She was constructed in 1963 by Christy Corporation in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin and refurbished in 1969 in San Francisco. As the only mainline ferry in South-central Alaska and the Aleutian Chain, it principally runs between Homer, Kodiak, Port Lions, and Ouzinkie. Eight times during the summer months, the Tustumena makes a voyage out the Aleutian Chain; in the winter, the weather becomes too dangerous. Because of the exposed and unstable area of Alaska it serves, the Tustumena is an accredited ocean-going vessel, a quality it shares with only one other ferry in the Alaskan ferry system.
Kodiak to Chignik Chignik to Sand Point Sand Point to King Cove King Cove to Cold Bay Cold Bay to False Pass False Pass to Akutan Akutan to Dutch Harbor
18.5 hours 9.25 hours 6.5 hours 2 hours 4.25 hours 10.5 hours 3.5 hours
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Thursday, September 10 On Board the MV Tustumena I guess I could describe last night as rollicking. Around midnight, 18-foot waves kicked in. I tried to go with the rocking and get back to sleep. But the boat’s movement was not only rocking, but rolling too, in a threedimensional elliptical motion that was hard to get a handle on. In the blackness of night, I could not see the horizon or the waves, but perhaps that was just as well. We stayed in the security of our beds until 9:00 this morning before staggering around, trying to get dressed, while holding on at ALL times. This was no sea for showering, shaving, or hair-doing, that’s for sure. At 1:00 pm, we pulled in at Chignik. Five passengers left the ship, all a part of the permanent population of 100. Due to the high seas, the ship arrived an hour and a half late, cutting short our time in port. We were allowed to disembark, but were asked not to venture any further than the end of the wooden dock. While I walked down and took pictures
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of the deteriorating Mishing boats and old shacks with rusting metal roofs, Jake asked the Purser about the crab traps that were lined up along the dock. Each cage-like pot is stored with two numbered buoys and a line. When they go out, the Misherman take out the buoys and lines, bait the pots, and drop them to the sea Mloor. They come back and harvest them by number, knowing which are their own. Orange plastic spokes inside the openings prevent the crabs from escaping. The catch is released at the bottom of the boat and the process is repeated. The Purser had strong opinions about the environmental issues of overMishing. Jake added that logging, fracking, and mountaintop removal mining have similar impacts on both jobs and the environment, while the economic advantages are not as favorable as they once were. Mechanization of processing and the depletion of resources are resulting in fewer jobs anyway.
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Soon after we were underway again, I took advantage of the calm waters of the bay to try the shower. This proved to be a good idea, for as soon as we were back in open water, the waves kicked in again; I was happy that my timing had precluded stumbling around under running water. Around 3:00 pm, we watched a short Milm about two expeditions that involved the Aleutians. We learned from the movie that pollock is the major Mish caught now, as King Crab and other Mish species have been pretty much Mished out. Pollock also has the advantage that it is tasteless and can be processed into a mass that is easily frozen and turned into
different products, including artiMicial crab sticks and McDonald’s Mish sandwiches. Jake and I had an early dinner and went back to our cabin at 8:30. I stepped out brieMly to take a picture of the sunset, meeting a woman from Soldotna who is traveling to Dutch with her husband. They have lived all over Alaska and visited many places; the Aleutian Chain was on their list of places yet to see. The weather is calm as we head towards Sand Point, once home to the largest Mishing Mleet in the Aleutians. We dock at 10:45 pm. Unfortunately, with the late call and short time in port, it makes no sense to get off the ship. 57
Friday, September 11 On Board the MV Tustumena The Tustumena tied up at King Cove at 6:30 am, well before sunrise. We disembarked with members of the Sand Point High School cross country team who were there for a meet; they had boarded last night while we were in bed. The kids were certainly well behaved; we had no idea that they had joined us. I saw one girl wearing a Chicago Bulls shirt; she giggled and allowed me to take her picture. Jake and I proceeded down the gangplank in a gusty wind and walked in the darkness to the end of the muddy pier. We could see the shadowy outline of mountains surrounding us on three sides. I imagine this is a beautiful place in the daylight. A group of mothers and small kids got on at King Cove and organized themselves in the booths adjacent to the dining room. The conversation was basically “mom-talk”; I overheard one mother describe her new son’s hair as “soft as an otter pelt.”
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At 9:45 am, we arrived at Cold Bay, at the far western end of the Alaskan Peninsula. The morning was cold and rainy. I had read that there are less than ten sunny days a year in Cold Bay; this was not one of them. Since the ship would be in port for three hours, we were invited to join members of the National Wildlife Refuge staff for a visit to the Izembek National Wildlife Refuge. Three vans met us at the dock and drove us down the long wharf, past low, simple homes (all with satellite dishes) to the Refuge OfMice. We shared the van with Kim and Kevin from Kodiak, and with Father André, a Russian Orthodox Priest who will soon be moving from Sand Point to False Pass. We learned that the area attracts dozens of species of birds—especially Brant Geese—that stop on their migratory routes to feast on the world’s largest eelgrass beds. The vans brought us to Grant Point, a windy, barren, and treeless spot overlooking
the Bering Sea. The low vegetative growth was as interesting to me as the Mlock of birds far off in the distance: pink Mlowering Lingonberry, purple Geranium, and the daisy-like Coastal Fleabane. Standing there, looking over the water in three directions, the wind stinging my face and the drizzle fogging my glasses, I felt that I was at the end of nowhere. On our way back to the ferry, we passed the Cold Bay Airport. The main runway, built in WWII, is the Mifth longest in Alaska. Today, it is used for scheduled cargo Mlights and is designated as an emergency diversion airport for passenger Mlights crossing the PaciMic. We also saw the small post ofMice, the solitary store, and the school (recently closed because there are less than ten children living in the area). As we were climbing back up to the ship, two groups of Mishermen were at work on open tables at the dock, gutting the sockeye salmon they had just caught.
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Remembering 9/11 61
Grant Point Izembek Lagoon
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The ferry pulled out just before 1:00 pm, heading for our next port at False Pass, which we reached at 5:00 pm. We had an hour to explore this entrance to the 150-foot wide channel between the end of the Alaska Peninsula and the easternmost Aleutian Islands. For centuries, the Aleut people had used this channel to travel between the Bering Sea and the Gulf of Alaska. However, the American ships found the strait too shallow and named it False Pass. The name stuck. After we were allowed to disembark, Jake and I walked to the end of the wharf to the little store that serves as combination grocery, hardware, and drug store, where I bought my own Misherman’s hat. Maybe now, my hair won’t blow across
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my lens as I try to take pictures. I just need to remember that this is not a beauty pageant. We walked along the shore, beachcombing and checking out the artistic array of crab pots. I even found an old crab Mloat label amongst the rocks. One of the crew said it would make a great key chain. The drizzle came and went, creating several rainbows before it was time for us to leave. Jake and I ordered a tuna sandwich to share in our cabin this evening, along with his cocktail creation of vodka, lime, and ginger ale. Just before sunset, we all rushed on deck to see the smoking peak of Mount Shishaldin volcano on Unimak Island as we turned north through Akutan Pass into the Bering Sea.
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Shishaldin Volcano, Unimak Island
Saturday, September 12 to Dutch Harbor, AK The Tustumena reached Akutan at 5:00 am, after a period of rough seas going through the pass. Jake and I remained on board since it was pitch dark and we could have only been off for a few minutes. At 10:00 am we arrived at our Minal destination at Dutch Harbor. We were a half hour late, as a pilot-in-training practiced approaching the dock and took us around twice. We said good-by to the crew and walked down the gangplank for the last time, sharing one of the waiting taxis with several of our fellow passengers. We are staying at the Grand Aleutian Hotel, owned by seafood giant UniSea. UniSea is one of several seafood processors on Unalaska that have made Dutch Harbor the leading US Mishing port by volume. We
The Grand Aleutian Hotel
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checked into the four-star hotel that is sometimes referred to as “The Grand Delusion� because of its location in otherwise pretty basic surroundings. We stopped by the Ounalashka Corporation to get a permit to visit private native land, but the ofMice was closed; we learned later that unless we were hiking, we really did not need one. Across from the hotel, Alaska Ship Supply is a Costco-like store that carries everything from sweatshirts to washing machines. Cruising the aisles, I could imagine what a lifeline this store must be for the people who live here. We called for a taxi to take us to the car rental place at the airport; a short time later, we drove away in a 2008 Jeep Liberty.
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We began exploring Dutch Harbor/Unalaska by visiting the Museum of the Aleutians. Highlights of the collection include ethnographic, Russian, and WWII artifacts. It was interesting to learn that archeologists have counted at least 25 prehistoric villages within a two-mile radius of Dutch Harbor.
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The Russians in Unalaska Unalaska and Amaknak Islands contained 24 settlements with more than 1,000 Aleut inhabitants in 1759, when the Girst Russian traders arrived under Stepan Glotov. Between 1763 and 1766, a conGlict between the Russian fur traders and the Unalaska Natives occurred; the Aleuts destroyed four Russian ships and killed 175 traders. In the 1760s, Unalaska was temporarily used as a Russian fur trading post. The post was permanently established in 1774, and was eventually incorporated into the Russian American Company, becoming a key link in the chain of Russian settlements along the American coast. 78
The weather was better than we expected for our drive along all of the paved and many of the unpaved roads on Amaknak and Unalaska, the two islands that comprise greater Unalaska Island. Perhaps the most recognizable building in Unalaska is the green onion-domed Cathedral of the Holy Ascension, which nestles at the base of a hill on Iliuliuk Bay. Built in 1825, it is the oldest Russianbuilt church in North America. The bright blue Bishop’s House is adjacent, awaiting restoration.
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Unalaska Island
Cathedral of the Holy Ascension The legacy of the Russians is the Russian Orthodox Church, which remains the most imporatant religion among the Aleutian people.
At the USS Northwestern Memorial Park, we found a manicured lawn and boardwalk leading to monuments honoring those lost at sea. The propeller of the ill-fated USS Northwestern, bombed and sunk by the Japanese, serves as the centerpiece. I climbed the hill behind the park to the Orthodox crosses in the cemetery above. However, I lost the path and did not feel like wading through the thick underbrush to get to the very top. 82
When men go down to the sea in ships, ‘Tis not to the sea they go: Some isle or pole the mariner’s goal, And thither they sail through calm and gale, When down to the sea they go. When souls go down to the sea by ship And the dark ship’s name is Death, Why morn and wail at the vanishing sail? Though outwardbound, God’s world is round. And only a ship is Death. When I go down to the sea by ship, And Death unfurls her sail, Weep not for me, for there will be A living host on another coast To beckon and cry, “All Hail!” —Adopted from Robert Freeman
Carved into a granite memorial 83
We drove north on Summer Bay Road along the scenic coastline of Iliuliuk Bay, and then turned south along Henry Swanson Drive to the Carl Moses Boat Harbor. We were welcomed there by a friendly bearded fellow in overalls and a Harley cap. He told us that his name was Hal and pointed out the boat he calls home. We hoped that he did not have to take it out much, for it looked a long way from seaworthy. On the other side of Captain’s Bay, we passed the Mishing boats, bunkhouses, and processing plants of industry giant Westward Seafoods.
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Westward Seafoods’ nets, ropes, and Gloats apprear almost sculptural. 85
A drive along Unalaska Bay to Dutch Harbor brought us to the Visitor Center of the Aleutian World War II National Historic Area. The museum is housed in the historic Aerology Building. During the war, the building was used as a monitoring station for the unpredictable Aleutian weather. The upper Mloor has been recreated as a WWII-era radio room. On June 3, 1942, six months after the attack on Pearl Harbor, the Japanese struck US Army and Navy installations at Dutch Harbor. Two days of bombardment by Japanese carrier-based aircraft left over 100 dead and wounded and military structures in ruins.
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Jake and I took the Ballyhoo Road up to the steep, narrow, and unpaved Ulakta Head Road high over Dutch Harbor to the former site of Fort Schwatka where we saw remnants of WWII military activity in the form of foundations and bunkers.
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Dutch Harbor from Mt. Ballyhoo
As we drove south along the harbor, we passed numerous docks and Mish processing facilities before Minding ourselves back at the City Dock, just as the Tustumena was pulling away for her return trip to Homer. We had planned to stop for something to eat at the Norwegian Rat Saloon, but when we discovered that there was a $25 cover charge for the Mayweather vs. Berto welterweight championship boxing match, we went to the Harbor View Bar & Grill where Jake watched Michigan State beat Oregon for free. While he was engrossed in the game, I walked over to the shops across the street. I enjoyed talking to
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Genevieve Ghita, who owns an apparel shop, and meeting Nanette and Marty Diaz at their small grocery store. When I came out, I saw a group of Mishermen standing outside the bar. I asked one of them where I could Mind an LFS hoodie like the one he was wearing. We chatted a few minutes and when I asked if I could take a picture of them, they said sure, but that I would have to be in the photo as well. After the game, Jake and I returned to the Norwegian Rat Saloon, but both the Might and the cover charge continued. Instead, we ate at the hotel’s Cape Cheerful, where I ordered a salmon BLT.
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Sunday, September 13 Dutch Harbor, AK Today was one of those lazy Sundays that one occasionally needs to regroup and recoup. The biggest item on my agenda was to make contact with LFS Marine Supplies. I was hoping to buy one of their authentic hoodies, worn by so many of the young bearded men who are the predominant inhabitants of Dutch Harbor. I called at least a dozen times throughout the day with no success. Jake and I were at the Chart Room on the second Mloor of the hotel promptly at 10:00 am, ready for their popular Sunday brunch. Stacks of king crab legs, bowls of shrimp, and platters of hot and cold smoked salmon and halibut were lavishly arrayed. With some degree of success, Jake tackled the art of extracting the meat from the hard, prickly crab legs. I let him do the work and then Milched some from his plate.
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Before we returned the car, we drove around Unalaska Island noting the simple homes and absence of people around. After Milling the tank, we dropped the car off at the airport. The man on duty gave us a ride back to the hotel. He has lived in Dutch since he was in 6th grade. Jake asked him about the Mish processing business. For one thing, we wanted to know who lives in the numerous barrack-like buildings around each of the processing plants. Are they seasonal workers or full-time? What kind of work do they do? He told us how the Mishermen work from quotas: after a quota is reached, the boat returns, no matter how long it has been out. These restrictions have only recently been imposed; if they had been established earlier, perhaps the current overMishing problem could have been avoided. We found his insights interesting and wished we could
have talked to him longer. Later, I had an interesting conversation with Helen, manager of the hotel’s gift shop, who told me that she had worked in the processing division of UniSea for a month—all she could stand— before moving to the retail end of the company. She found Mish processing grueling and labor-intensive, and loves running the gift shop. While Jake watched the men’s Minal of the US Open Tennis Championships, I went between the gift shop and Alaska Ship Supply, looking for crab shell cutters and postcards. Around 6:00, we crossed the highway for burgers and beer at the Norwegian Rat Saloon, where we ran into Genevieve Ghita and her husband. As I write, it is 9:30 pm and still light outside; the wind has really whipped up in the last half hour. At least as far as the weather is concerned, Dutch Harbor is a desolate place.
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Monday, September 14 to Homer, AK Our alarm went off at 6:30 am, seemingly in the middle of the night; by 8:30 the sun had only started to show itself. I think I’d have a hard time getting going each day with such a late sunrise. We arrived at the airport an hour before our Mlight to Anchorage, continuing to Homer, where we’d left the car eight days ago. We ran into Carla and Russ Fisher, the couple from Houston we had met on board the Tustumena. We exchanged travel stories and emails. PenAir 3287 left at 10:40; we boarded the plane with absolutely no security check. The SAAB 340 had ten rows with one seat on one side and two on the other. For some reason that was not explained, Jake was moved from 3F, a window seat across from me, to the last seat in the plane. The attendant refused to do anything to accommodate us and Jake was pretty steamed for the threehour Mlight. We had a fast connection to Ravn 878 to Homer in a Dash 8-100; this time we were able to sit together. The problem came later when his bag did not arrive with us; we were told that baggage is often
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bumped from Dutch Harbor Mlights. I am at a loss to imagine how Jake’s small duffel would have the slightest effect on the small plane’s weight distribution, but that is what we were told. After Miling a claim and Milling out forms, we had done all we could and called for a taxi to take us to Land’s End Resort on the Homer Spit, where we had left our car and have reservations for the night. They gave us an upgraded room overlooking the bay. We visited the Pratt Museum in Homer where we saw exhibits about the science, art, and culture of Kachemak Bay, as well as a report on the lingering aftereffects of the 1989 Exxon Valdez Oil Spill in Prince William Sound. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped for halibut Mish and chips at AJ’s Old Town Steakhouse and Tavern. In due course, we got a call from the airlines that they had found Jake’s bag and were sending it to the hotel. As we watched the darkness fall over the bay from our window, we shared thoughts about our Aleutian adventure.
Featured at the Pratt Museum, Time Bandit made Dutch Harbor a star on the Discovery Channel’s The Deadlist Catch. This is from the display placard:
FV Time Bandit Crab Boat The FV Time Bandit has become the prototypical boat built for the Alaskan crab Gishery. The power scow design gives the skipper a better view of the deck operation and puts the wheelhouse window well aft of the bow during stormy weather. Both are safety concerns in one of the world’s most dangerous occupations. John Hillstrand, one of the pioneers in the crab Gishery, had this vessel designed and built by Giddings Boat Works in Charleston, Oregon. It was christened in 1991. At 115 feet long, it can hold 50 tons of live crab, 160 tons of salmon, or 155 tons of herring. The pots on this model are rigged speciGically for the PaciGic gray cod Gishery. Gear types are continually being examined and redesigned to avoid catching species not in season or under protection for various reasons. This is one way to address the need for sustainability of the resources. Fishermen and Gisheries management agencies are becoming more proactive in conservation efforts. 98
A mobile at the Pratt Museum, made of plastic ocean debris.
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A journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip through Alakska and Western Canada from August 13-September 30, 2015. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, c. 2015. 100
Vol. 2