Ketchikan - Salmon Capital of the World

Creek Street, Ketchikan

Ketchikan has been a centre for salmon for 130 years, breeding, harvesting and canning them here. These days they practice salmon ranching, raising the vulnerable young in hatcheries and then placing them in a lake to which they’ll return (salmon farming is illegal in Alaska). Ketchikan Creek, which runs through the centre of town, is alive with salmon; so many that they patiently wait in line, thousands of them, for their turn to leap up the rapids and on to their home lake to spawn. We watched some suddenly leap in the air – an instinctive reaction; they weren’t going anywhere for a while.

Salmon catch the Sun, side by side 

Apparently, these salmon were Pinks; each variety runs on its own schedule; King and Sockeye run earlier. There are five varieties of Pacific Salmon; the locals use a memory jogger to remember them on one hand:

Thumb	Chum or dog
Forefinger	Sockeye (poke yer eye) or red
Index (longest)	King or Chinook
Ring Finger	Silver or Coho
Pinky	Pink or Humpy

Salmon-case Stencils

We arrived late evening – our hotel had a cab waiting for us at the ferry. After breakfast we walked out onto the street to find two huge cruise ships towering over us. Along with salmon, tourism is the big industry; our driver told us that Ketchikan gets around 400,000 cruise visitors per season. Despite being a city, with a population of only 8,000 it’s more like a village and to control the flow the downtown area has temporary fences along all of the sidewalks; crossing guards control each crosswalk. I decided to jump the fence and cross anyway – it was then I encountered the non-crossing guards who shouted at me to get back on the sidewalk. Local traffic comes to a standstill if pedestrians go where they want.

Dolly Arthur’s
Bedroom

In the early part of the 20^th century the fishermen, as well as lumber workers, gold miners and copper miners, fed a healthy red-light district on the Creek, frequenting up to 30 brothels. The houses on the Creek are all built on stilts – prostitution was illegal ‘on land.’ All that remains is Dolly’s house. Dolly Arthur lived alone and turned tricks for most of her life, she turned her last when she was 72. Her bathroom flowers made from silk condoms were an amusing decorative touch! And, a house above water was very convenient during prohibition – liquor smuggled in from Canada could be brought up through the floor, from a boat, during the night.

As suggested by our Haida friends on the ferry, we caught the bus out to Saxman Native Village on the outskirts of town. The restoration of totem poles taken from uninhabited villages has made this a centre for totem carving. The world’s largest concentration of totem poles lies in this area. We visited a carving house and talked to two young sculptors about traditional paints: “Each coloured rock is ground to a fine powder then mixed with salmon eggs and saliva – you chew the eggs in your mouth then spit the juice through your teeth into the bowl of powder. Your teeth filter the liquid, leaving the skin around the eggs in your mouth.” We didn’t try it!

On our travels, we asked for a good placeto eat; Bar Harbor was recommended and indeed it was good: “You go through the tunnel beside your hotel and walk a little way and it’s right there,” she’d said. Well, ‘a little way’ turned out to be a couple of miles… and as we set out it started to rain. We had no rain gear and as we walked the rain grew heavier. Soon we were so drenched that we stopped at a hotel. The receptionist laughed as she handed us towels and called a taxi. But, the food was delicious. The rain had stopped so we caught a bus back (cabs can take a while) – the next stop was at a fish processing plant and the shift was just ending. A guy got on and sat next to us – he smelled very fishy. It was then that I noticed the sign: “No-one must bring offensive odors onto the bus.”

New Eddystone Rock

Next morning we took another boat ride; this time to Misty Fjords World Heritage Site featuring steep cliffs and punchbowls with waterfalls. As we sailed, we came upon the iconic New Eddystone Rock, named by Capt. George Vancouver on his voyage of discovery. When he first saw it he called for all hands on deck with all their weapons – he’d mistaken it for a Spanish warship.

We got back just in time to eat in the hotel and catch a cab back to the ferry – it was the same driver that had brought us. That’s Alaska for you!

Haida Thunderbird Mask

Next week our trip ends in Prince Rupert, BC

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Juneau - Alaska’s Capital

Juneau is the capital of Alaska yet it’s a small town. With a population of 32,000, it’s about the size of Moose Jaw, or Salisbury, UK, but with no road out of town, it’s very isolated.

Haida Art on Juneau wall

Grandma’s Feather bed gave us just that, a sumptuous comfortable bed, set in a lovely bed & breakfast on the outskirts of town. The hotel provides a free shuttle into town and since we’d arrived just after lunch we made use of it. Our shuttle driver told us he often visits his brother in Minneapolis: “The quickest and cheapest way out is to take my car on the ferry up to Skagway (6 ½ hours), then drive down through Canada to the lower 48 (States) on the Alaska Highway – there is no land link to Juneau. The alternatives are much more expensive and involve Alaska Air or a 3-day ferry ride to Seattle. And, my boy is in basketball,” he said, “We have to travel out of town for him to have any teams to play against.”

Bob of Seals

We’d run out of baggage space so went looking for a suitcase. Strangely, we found a store that sold electronics and a variety of suitcases in the back of a café; you had to walk through the café to get there. We bought a suitcase. The guy had an Eastern European accent. Where are you from I asked him: “Bulgaria!” Of course.

Next morning we went whale watching in a small boat. Our guide announced that when she’d arrived in Alaska men outnumbered women by about 10:1. “But, if you think that made it a great place to be female,” she said, “women here have a saying: ‘The odds are good but the goods are odd, so I’m not looking!’ and I’m still single.” As we left Juneau we saw several bald eagles, just walking around on a remote beach: “Here, we call them Alaska chickens!” she said.

Orca Pod

We cut the engine and sat floating out in a large bay – all we’d seen was a bob of seals. Then, the radio burst into life: ‘Orcas by the red boat, orcas by the red boat!’ Our guide said, “In case you are wondering, WE are the red boat. And, this is a rare treat…” As we watched, seven killer whales dived under our boat and came out the other side; everyone scrambled for their cameras. Humpback whales give birth in warmer waters, off Hawaii or Mexico, and fatten their babies with milk before heading to the Arctic, choosing the shelter of the Inside Passage. The orcas wait for them; separating the babies from the mothers, holding them under water to drown them.

Mendenhall Glacier with blue toe

Later in the day we caught the shuttle to the Mendenhall Glacier. This feeds Mendenhall Lake on the outskirts of the city and it’s an impressive sight. Just as we arrived, a large chunk had calved leaving a deep blue face just above the water level. Unlike Portage, there’s no way to get close to the toe of Mendenhall although there’s a powerful waterfall just to one side where you can stand. Close to the base is a salmon run – many leaped higher as we watched – a place famous as a viewing area for bears, but all we saw was their scat!

Gulls on jetty - Juneau Harbour

Next week we visit Ketchikan, Alaska.

Inside Passage - Poor Man’s Cruise

One of many Glaciers

We boarded the Alaska Marine ferry, the “Poor Man’s Cruise,” at Skagway sailing south. We stopped at Juneau, Ketchikan and finally Prince Rupert, BC; this blog is about our journey down the Inside Passage during those three legs.

Up at 5am to grab the shuttle for a 7am departure. Our driver was a young Bulgarian student. Most of the workers in town are Bulgarian, he told us; we come here for the summer and then go home for school. But, I don’t think anyone has noticed us yet…

Leaving Skagway

The weather was warm and sunny as we left Skagway harbour and we sat outside on the upper back deck, passing glacier after glacier as they flowed down into the sea, gleaming white; the occasional draught of fresh, chilled air caught our nostrils. On occasion, looking over the side, you could see a clear line where the water changed from crystal blue to muddy brown – an indication that a river was emptying into the channel up ahead. It was relaxing and energizing but despite scanning the water for hours no sign of whales – only seals.

Our second leg ran overnight and much of the following day. Many of our companions just slept on the deck in their sleeping bags but we’d booked a berth. Our cabin had two bunks, one above the other, and looked a little too much like a prison cell but it was comfortable, once you got used to the side to side rocking; even the throbbing and buzzing became soothing as we gradually tuned it out.

Sharing Halibut Snacks

The ferry is an interesting place. It was raining when we got up so, after breakfast, we went to the reading room intending to read and write. But, there was a large jigsaw puzzle laid out on a table. Carol loves puzzles and started to put pieces in – others joined in… …until, eventually, the owners showed up. They didn’t seem to mind.

We sat with half a dozen Haida First Nations people; they live in communities around the Inside Passage and are frequent users of the ferry. Each of them explained what they were making as they introduced themselves. Many were constructing jewellery - one was a master beader whose husband was a totem (totem pole) carver - some were sewing garments. Then there was Holly, a renowned red cedar bark weaver. She was weaving a hat as we watched – she’ll sell it for US$800 (£500). It takes about 50% of the time to prepare the bark and 50% to do the weaving, she told us, and she had just finished a hat for a customer at a stop along the way who had ordered it for a wedding.

Happy Customer

They shared their dried halibut snacks with us, as we talked, spread with butter – very tasty.  We discussed the market for their products; they expressed frustration that the cruise companies had bought up the waterfront in their communities, like Ketchikan, yet would rather sell ‘Eskimo’ carvings than the local Haida or Tlingit art. I was surprised - Haida artists produce the iconic West Coast images of salmon, bear, eagle and orca (killer whale) originally on totems but now everywhere, even the wall of our bathroom at home!

Then the rain cleared and it was back on deck to enjoy the sunshine and views of fishing boats as they sailed past, trailing gulls behind them – this far south, all trace of snow on the mountains had disappeared.

Next week we visit Juneau, the Capital.

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Skagway - Hell on Earth

Skagway sits atop the Alaska Inside Passage and was the landing place for thousands of stampeders on their quest for gold, sailing up from Seattle and San Francisco. Many were ill prepared, figuring they could purchase what they needed when they got there, and certainly they could. But they were more likely to be fleeced by the organization that controlled the town once the discovery of gold became known. By the spring of 1898, 1,000 prospective miners were passing through the town every week, many of whom described it as ‘Hell on Earth’.

The town was run by Jefferson Smith, known as Soapy – this from a sleight-of-hand street scam selling bars of soap, allegedly wrapped in $20 bills, to the highest bidder. Soapy presented himself as the saviour of the poor while his gang attempted to relieve everyone else of his or her cash.

We arrived by train and walked to our hotel. Skagway is small, dusty and dominated by the mountains on three sides and the Cruise Lines on the other – three large ships sat at the dock as we detrained. And not only ships, the Cruise companies also own many businesses in the town aimed at their passengers – jewelry, fur, art and more jewelry stores – particularly those closest to the waterfront.

Soapy’s Grave

A famous waterfront incident was the so-called Shootout on Juneau Wharf, where Soapy Smith finally met his end at the hands of vigilante Frank Reid, but not before he managed to fatally wound Reid. They are both buried in the Gold Rush Cemetery and I was keen to see their graves. So, we set off on foot.

Carol’s fear of bears almost stopped us in our tracks but I managed to convince her that the cemetery was just at the edge of town. Actually, the graveyard sits in woodland that presumably has grown up through it and is more than a mile from the last building, along a gravel track. But it was well worth the trek.

Martin & Lucy Itjen’s Grave

Often crowded, we visited in the late afternoon – no one was there. The graves have been twisted and distended over the past 100 years by tree growth and frost heaves. Most of the dead were little more than teenagers – surely they didn’t think they’d end up here…  No bears though, but even I could sense their presence.

One pair of graves intrigued me, sitting as they do in front of a large gold-painted rock, chained to a tree. These are the graves of Martin Itjen and his wife. After the Gold Rush, Skagway went in to steep decline and Itjen, who’d arrived as a stampeder ended up being a tireless promoter of Skagway all down the West Coast. He ended up as a Ford dealer and operated the first tour bus in town. Itjen is credited with protecting the Cemetery and much of the historic town from destruction.

He characterized one of his props, a rock painted gold, as the biggest Gold Rush nugget. When he died in 1942 he was buried alongside his famous nugget. …And, in the strange way these things go, Soapy Smith is something of a folk hero now; a latter day Robin Hood, even a martyr, depending on who’s version of the story you read.

Gold Rush Cemetery - Frank Reid’s Memorial is the stone structure to the left

Next week we sail down the Inside Passage. 

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White Pass & Yukon Railroad

White Pass & Yukon Ticket Office

The White Pass and Yukon narrow-gauge railroad was completed in 1900, running from Skagway to Whitehorse over the White Pass, or as the stampeders called it, Dead Horse Gulch. Donkeys and horses; men worked the beasts until they dropped, and simply left as many as 3,000 of them where they lay, grinding them into the narrow pathway as they dragged their loads on up. No man was allowed across the pass without a year’s worth of food, on top of their tools. With the steeper Chilkoot Trail, this was the main entry to the Yukon Gold Rush.

The railway doesn’t run to Whitehorse anymore. The rail line is still there and so is the station, you buy your tickets there, but you have to take a bus to get to the train. We board the bus and head south. Our driver Larry points out high spots along the way and stops for them occasionally. Emerald Lake, the beautiful but dead lake, the village of Carcross (contraction of Caribou Crossing) with its ‘turn of the 19th century’ General Store, and Shallow Lake, scene of the movie adaptation of Farley Mowat’s ‘Never Cry Wolf’, where the young researcher falls through the ice attached to all his kit.

Carcross General Store

Carcross sits on the shores of Bennett Lake; it was here in January of 1898 that 30,000 men built 6,000 boats as they prepared for the spring thaw to float north on the Yukon River to Dawson. They were closely watched by Sam Steele, the incorruptible Mountie, who mediated disputes, gave advice on boat building, and guided them on their way.

Our Carriage on the WPYR

We cross back into Alaska, and there’s the train… we climb aboard the period carriages assisted by period-costumed attendants. Sometimes the train is pulled by a steam engine but today it’s a diesel. Each carriage is rudimentary; wooden seats within and a deck at each end – you are allowed to stand on the deck as the train moves and the views are better from here, so this is where I stand for the journey. And, wow, what views as we crest on the pass, then descend to the port of Skagway atop the Alaskan Inside Passage.

Original Trestle Bridge

On the way, we look down into the valley and see the prospectors’ detritus, still laying there after more than one hundred years, slowly rusting. We pass an original wooden trestle bridge, now ending mid-air; the Pacific peaks through the gap in the mountains, as the train snakes back and forth on its descent. The journey ends on the harbour front at Skagway; for the hopeful seeking gold, the place where their nightmares began. We walk to the Sweet Tooth for supper, as Larry recommended – quite a wait but well worth it. Next week we leaf through Skagway’s history.

View of the Pacific thru the mountain

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