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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