Only 10 percent of the departing salmon find their way back to spawn at their birth hatchery and stream, but this is a much larger percentage than nature normally allows. Also, it was interesting to see the physiological changes that occur as a salmon ages. If nothing else, most of us should be happy that as we get older our noses do not contort and grow like an aging Sockeye salmon!
The Valdez Museum was especially interesting because it revealed the range of dangers seamen have experienced in the waters off Valdez, and provided a detailed account of the massive oil spill in 1989. The Alyeska Pipeline Terminal tour was informative, and the movies they showed illustrated the difficulties faced by the thousands of workers who labored to build it. Our day at Valdez had been a full one, and we were happy we had gotten to see the major features of Valdez. Early the next morning we were due at the ferry terminal for our trip across Prince William Sound to Whittier, and back to Anchorage.
The ferry took us west out of Valdez, passing near the face of Columbia Glacier, this time close to where calving occurs along the open sea. Most noticeable was the temperature change. It had been in the mid-70's F. in Valdez and Prince William Sound, but as we approached the glacier we began to pass small icebergs and the temperature dropped some 40 degrees F. We saw seals and sea lions reposing on icebergs, and birds of all sorts feeding on the particles of matter churned by the calving glacier. We proceeded west from the glacier toward Kenai. It was a magnificent journey, which came to an end with our arrival at Whittier, a windy port nestled amongst mountains southeast of Anchorage. We ate lunch at a small eatery near the main dock, and at the appointed hour were directed, in our rental car, to drive onto a flatbed train car, alongwith some 75 other vehicles, including campers. The train took us west through heavily mountainous terrain and tunnels to Portage, adjacent to the highway leading north along the Kenai Peninsula to Anchorage. It was odd to sit in the car and watch the scenery pass by without having to watch the road. (As luck would have it, the couple in the car in front of us smoked cigarettes during the half hour ride, so that in the darkness of the tunnels we saw the glimmer of their cigarettes and, regretfully, smelled the burning tobacco!) We drove off the flat cars at Whittier and proceeded north along the Kenai to Anchorage. We arrived early enough to do some gift shopping and visit again with KL7PJ.
The next morning marked the beginning of the second half of our trip, the southeast of Alaska. We flew first to Juneau, the state capital. The flight around the mountains outside Juneau was noteworthy, with steep banking turns and unexpected mountain and valley views at odd angles. It is apparent that the Alaska Airlines pilots enjoy their creative approach, but so did we. We were fortunate because the weather remained perfect, reaching the mid-70's during the day. Juneau, like many cities in Alaska, began as a mining town. In fact, there are hundreds of miles of mines under the city, and there is always talk of reopening some of them. The city itself, which has some 30,000 inhabitants, is lovely with the snow capped mountains looming behind it. However, it is not linked to any other city by road, so automobiles must be brought in by ferry. This is also true of the other towns and islands along the Inside Passage. Our hotel, the Alaskan Hotel & Bar, was once a bordello, but was ideally located in the center of the city. We assume that the mattress had been changed at least once in the hotel's history, though we have our doubts because it seemed awfully soft.
In some sense, the mining-town flavor of Juneau persists because it has only been 80 years since it was a gold producing center. Juneau later became a commercial fishing center, and is now the state administrative center.
Juneau is especially interesting to tour by foot. It features a log cabin information center -- an 1881 cabin that was the city's first church and served later as a school, carpentry shop and brewery office; a convention and visitors bureau; the Alaska State Museum, which has extensive displays of native artifacts and an impressive eagle habitat; the old St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church; and a four story totem, 45 feet high made by the Haida Indians. In the evening we attended a fantastic all-you-can-eat salmon bake at an old gold mine just outside the city, and even panned for gold in the cold stream adjacent to the outdoor tables. (No luck this time!) We also took a tour of the state capital building, which has on its front lawn a replica of the Philadelphia Liberty Bell. The Alaska State Museum was a special treat with a circular stairway that climbs around a nesting family of eagles atop a tree, bears below, and exhibits enroute. By late the second day in Juneau we had seen most of what we had intended, so we assembled our luggage and made our way in the late afternoon to the ferry, part of the Alaskan Marine Highway, and our next stop, Sitka.
The Marine Highway refers to the system of state-run ferries that operate primarily in the Inside Passage of Alaska. They are on schedules and go essentially everywhere the more expensive cruiseships go, though perhaps with fewer calories and less luxurious accommodations. At that time of year it is 'night' only for a few hours -- or less, depending on latitude -- so there is not much darkness. After some days of that, however, one learns to sleep quite efficiently with ambient light, though I wonder whether birds fully accommodate, i.e., if they stay awake as long as the sun is up. I suspect they are smarter than we are and adjust perfectly well. Some passengers had sleeping bags and curled up on the open deck, but none was warm outside those bags because even in June and July the outside temperatures are brisk. We slept on reclining chairs similar to airline seats.
I tried to arrange a visit to the radio room on Le Conte but the officials were less than cooperative, which left me with a foreboding sense as I thought of the longer ferry ride yet to come, but more about that later. There was a brief stop at Hoonah, which appeared to be no more than a fishing village. We got off the ferry when I observed through my binoculars a small cemetery which included two Stars of David on grave stones, a surprising sight for that part of the world. The stones dated to the turn of the century, with several people buried in each grave, much like the other graves adorned with a variety of cross designs. This must have been the common graveyard for the small village. We were there only for a half hour or so, long enough to take a few photos and scramble back onto the ship in time for departure. A few hours later we arrived at Sitka, and took the local ferry bus to our B&B, the Biorka, arriving at about 8 am.
Our day and a half stay on Sitka was a highlight of the trip. Sitka was originally a Russian settlement. The Russians confronted the Tlingits on a number of occasions, with major battles in the late 1700's and early 1800's. It was called New Archangel then and was the capital of Russian Alaska until all of Alaska passed to the United States by agreement in 1867. (Note that the name Sitka comes from the Tlingit, 'shee-atika,' meaning 'by the sea.') Sitka was never a gold mining area but developed into a fur trading and salmon canning region in the late 1800s. It is a lush island with some 95 inches of rain annually, and average snowfall of 70 inches, but the mean temperature is 54 degrees Fahrenheit, which means it is not what most of us imagine as typically Alaskan weather. In fact, most of the Inside Passage, which includes Sitka, is not particularly cold or snow ridden, but there is a great deal of rain.
The Sheldon Jackson Museum on Sitka, at the campus of the museum of the same name, is one of the most intriguing of museums, with large quantities of Indian artifacts, like umiaks, sleds, clothing, tools, and a magnificent exhibit of various kinds of totem poles. One of my favorites was the fishing gear used by the natives which included fish traps and game snares. As it happens, Sheldon Jackson College was James Michener's home base when he wrote his epic Alaska. (This book, incidentally, offers a marvelous background for the kind of trip we took; I, of course, did it the other way, reading the book after I returned home.) The walking tour for us was particularly interesting because we happened upon the peak season for salmonberries, red and pink berries of nearstrawberry size that grow wild almost everywhere. Supposedly these berries are bear favorites, but we encountered no competitors while we foraged. We also visited the Raptor Rehabilitation Center, where injured and disabled bald eagles are treated. It was our first opportunity at seeing these magnificent birds close up and gave us more appreciation for the hundreds we later saw in the wild. Also of great interest was the Russian Bishop's House, renovated by the US Park Service at a cost of some 15 million dollars. It was the home, office, and ecclesiastical facility for Bishop Innocent Veniaminov, and was built in 1842. Nearby, the view from Castle Hill added both topological land political perspective because this is where the first American flag in Alaska was raised in 1867. A Russian fort had been on the hill, and next to its remains is an old Russian cemetery.
All of this touring created quite an appetite. Fortunately, as we meandered through Sitka, headed toward what we hoped were some restaurants, we encountered another salmon bake, this one offered by a Catholic church. I ate nearly my weight in salmon and have not had such a meal since. For the record, I note that Nina professes not to care for fish, but she had thirds. I asked our B&B hosts if they knew any Amateur Radio operators on Sitka, and indeed they did! I contacted KL7GKY, Jack, by telephone, and we met him that afternoon at the Fourth of July fair in downtown Sitka. He invited us to dinner that evening and we accepted. Not only was his wife a fantastic cook (I drool openly just thinking about the halibut!), but both were delightful company. They were teachers and offered a great deal of insight into life in Sitka, though neither was originally from there. It seemed odd to me when Jack referred to his North Dakota birthplace as 'down south.' Anyway, their home overlooked a wonderfully scenic inlet and, in the distance, Mount Edgecumbe, a large, seemingly dormant volcano.
The woods adjacent to the populated portion of Sitka reminded me of a cooler and lush version of California's Muir Woods, with exceptionally large fungi growing on many of the trees. Fortunately, there were few flying insects. Apparently we were there just between the black fly and mosquito seasons. More fortunately, there are no snakes or rodents on Sitka -- or anywhere in Alaska. They simply do not survive in the cold. So wandering about the woods is safe, assuming of course one does not come across a bear. We did not. Our time on Sitka had come to an end at it was time to prepare for our ferry trip to Ketchikan. We got a lift from our B&B host to the ferry pier, which was a mile or two out of town. The ferry soon came, and we made our way to the berth we had reserved. A bedroom aboard the ferry was certainly more comfortable than sleeping on the floor or on chairs as we had done before. But this trip was longer and we figured it was worth it.
This ferry, called the Malispina, was large and had enormous eating facilities and carried several hundred passengers. We met a number of couples who were motoring from the West Coast through the Yukon into Alaska. They all expressed upset at the conditions of the Canadian roads. We heard tales of broken axles, tediously slow and precarious rides between potholes and cliff edges, overpriced meals, and expensive gasoline. Once in Alaska, however, there was smooth driving.
Most of the tourists aboard, apart from the relatively few locals and college students, were retirees from the lower 48. The common view seemed to be that these were the only people who could afford the time to take this kind of trip by car and the Marine Highway. |
