Category Archives: Alaska

Alaska By Sea, Part Two: Flora, Fauna and Impressive Ice

In my last entry, I scratched the surface of the history and culture we encountered during our recent Alaska adventure. And teased that this second installment would do the same for the plants, animals – and glaciers.

Fauna first. Alaska is home to scads of land and aquatic animals, and of course hordes of birds, that is not exactly new news. We expected to see a fair amount of them, and we did. But it was usually from a distance, and the only binoculars we had were the ones the Viking folks kindly provided. Serviceable but not very good. So, lesson one: bring your own high powered binoculars if you go on an Alaska cruise, no matter how much space they take in your luggage!

I am particularly enamored of sea otters. (Who isn’t?) I’ve seen them “up close and personal” in Northern California and was somehow expecting to see them everywhere on our cruise. They were out there, just a bit too far away to appreciate. My pictures all show specs outlining their telltale head and flipper/feet profile. I began referring to them as “ESO” as in “elusive sea otter.”

There were bald eagles, orcas, other type of whales, seals, sea lions. A bear or two, salmon, mountain goats: all more or less from a distance. Instead of being disappointed, I started being philosophical about it. I knew they were out there, we were sharing space and I was experiencing and enjoying their landscape. But, really, why should I be impinging on their habitat and their peaceful day?

Flora second. The forests and foliage of Alaska are very cool. The best and closest chance we got to learn about the rainforest environment was a shore excursion to Glacier Gardens, a private and rather quirky swath of rainforest created by a man named Steve Bowhay and his wife beginning in the mid-1980s, and lovingly maintained and interpreted in detail by a cadre of seasonal devotee employees. First, you admire the “upside down trees” (uprooted in a storm, and “planted” roots up, with small gardens at the top, see photo) and other semi-maincured gardens at the base of the garden. Then, you ascend 600 feet up a corduroy (buried log) road in a sort of tram thing to a spectacular vista, learning about the rainforest as you go from the driver/guide. A bit terrifying, but very edifying and impressive.

And third, the glaciers. According to the U.S. Geological Survey web site, “A glacier is a large, perennial accumulation of crystalline ice, snow, rock, sediment, and often liquid water that originates on land and moves down slope under the influence of its own weight and gravity.” So, basically, a very, very slow-moving wall of ice that accumulates stuff as it goes. Too many glaciers to list, or even remember, were pointed out to us, some high in the mountain crevises. But the two most memorable ones to me were those that had reached the sea. They frequently shed big hunks (called “calving”) which I kept watching for but never really saw in action. But, no matter.

My two favorite glaciers that we saw on the trip were the Johns Hopkins Glacier which we sailed up as close as a hulking, 900-passenger cruise ship can get, and the Aialik Glacier which we saw even closer on a smaller boat during our tour of the Kenai Fjord National Park. Here is a very informative story map about glaciers at Kenai Fjords, if you are curious to know more about them. My impressive was a general disbelief that I was actually there, seeing them in person. And being really glad that, although I would have gotten a much closer look at both wildlife and glaciers, I was safe and relatively warm on my boat and not one of the people out there kayaking right up to the glacier. I like a good paddle, but I prefer the water and air temperature to be somewhat more temperate than even summer in Alaska, no matter how many layers of clothing I might have on and no matter what a good sweat I might work up.

It was sad when we had to disembark from the cruise ship in Seward and relegate ourselves to dry land. But the whole experience was enriching, awe-inspiring, and at times even breath-taking. (Literally, when a stiff wind and temperatures in the 40s hit you simultaneously.)

Here are some snaps, which don’t do justice really, but give some idea. And prove that despite my feeling of surreal disbelief, we were there. A highly recommended journey!

See the tiny black dot at center bottom? You guessed it, the ESO in its vast surroundings as seen from our statehouse balcony.
This is how extremely cute the ESO is up close, as seen in our ship’s naturalist’s photos. (I’m told up close and personal they are also not anywhere as cuddly as they appear and they smell very fishy.)
Most eagles we saw were hanging out, like this one, amid “civilization.” They have adapted quite well to living side by side with humans and their stuff it seems.
Where there are glaciers there are icebergs. And often, harbor seals hanging out on them, which you can (maybe) see on the far right and as tiny specks in the farther away bergs.
Most orcas are roughly the size of a school bus. But when seen in the context of the sweeping sea and landscapes of Alaska, and with only the aid of a phone camera, that just doesn’t register.
I loved the way that public art (even on a dumpster!) depicted the local wildlife.
Native art of course also reflects the natural world, as I reported in the last blog entry. Here, a walrus made of found materials including hub caps, at the State Museum in Juneau.
It helps to know your bears, and to heed the advice not to approach them. Though here in Valdez I didn’t see any real bears, as they were not hanging around the salmon run that day. Just as well?
Several times we learned how to remember the various types of salmon by the fingers on our hand: thumb/chum, pointer finger/sockeye (as the finger you would use to poke someone in the eye!), king/middle and longest finger, silver/ring, pinky/pin. But referring to this chart is handy too!
An interpretive native garden in downtown Skagway. We learned that the profusion of light (and of course ample rain) in the summer months makes things grow faster and bigger, so the shorter growing season is somewhat compensated. And, your rhubarb grows to be enormous.
“Upside down trees” at Glacier Gardens. Clever and a great for marketing the experience.
The road you ascend in Glacier Gardens, 600 feet up, with running commentary by the driver/guide.
View from the top of the hill.
The plant in the foreground is Devil’s Club, also known as Alaskan Ginseng (though it is not in the same family as American Ginseng). But you know it got my attention when I heard that knickname!
Like ginseng, Devil’s Club is proported to cure a variety of ills. The gift shop at Glacier Gardens carried products made from the plant, which apparently gets its name from its sharp and to-be-avoided spines!
On our trip over White’s Pass in Skagway, our guide showed us where the wild blueberries were at one of our scenic stops. Picked a few to try, a yummy taste of the wild!
Me, looking cold and not terribly happy, with Johns Hopkins Glacier in the background.
The glacier is a lot more attractive without me in the photo.
See the little black speck in the lower right hand portion of the photo? That is the kayakers at the base of Aialik Glacier. Call me unadventurous, but I preferred letting them lend scale to the photo than being them.

Alaska by Sea, Part 1: Towns

My sister and I recently returned from our maiden Viking ocean cruise, through and around Alaska’s Inner Passage. And despite that we both got sick (we won’t elaborate on that part of the experience), it was a trippy trip through a constantly changing landscape, along the way gathering insights into the state’s culture and history. Even before we started getting feverish, the whole experience seemed somewhat surreal.

Shore excursions, lectures on board, visits to museums, and our own research via the ship’s very good wifi, filled our brains with details, most of which I will probably forget. One thing seared into our brain from repetition, though, was the fact that the U.S purchased Alaska from Russia in the 1867 for 7.2 million dollars, which was roughly two cents per acre.

While the scenery is spectacular, and the wildlife is abundant (though not always evident), in this installment I am going to focus on a brief report on the communities we visited during shore excursions. Each had its own interesting character and history that we dipped our toes into, making for a kaleidoscope of impressions and factoids.

Ketchikan: Our first stop, having begun in Vancouver and spending the first day “scenic cruising” our way north. In the morning we did the “included” tour to the Potlatch Totem Park, a private collection of totem poles, native structures, and for some strange reason, antique cars. They do have an impressive collection, and a totem pole carving workshop, and it was a good introduction to the art. But, our second excursion was more of the real deal: a visit to Saxman Village, a Tlingit community a few miles outside of Ketchikan. Here, our excellent young guide Herbert started right in on the short walk from the bus to the gathering place, telling us about the plants along the path, and continued being informative (with a touch of humor) throughout the visit. (He was also one of the dancers in a brief performance.) A highlight was their more authentic totem carving workshop, presided over by National Heritage Fellow Nathan Jackson, and younger carvers. For a folklorist, the afternoon was a real treat! They also had a nice gift shop.

Sitka: Second on the agenda was Sitka, where we learned more about Alaska’s Russian heritage and visited the site where the territory was turned over to the U.S. The visit began with a slightly weird but still fun dance interpretation of the town’s history from a group called Alaska Storytellers, and then we were free to wander the small downtown, explore St. Michael’s Russian Orthodox Cathedral, and climb Castle Hill to read more about the history. (Did I mention that Alaska was purchased for 7.2 million dollars which was 2 cents per acre?)

Skagway: Skagway was next in the line-up. Here we learned about the area’s role in the 1890s Klondike Gold Rush, during a narrated trip up the White Pass (by bus, though for an extra cost you could do it by a historic railroad) and through the great interpretation in various buildings back in town. It’s hard to fathom the thousands of (mostly men) hoping to find their fortune in this impossibly rugged terrain, on their way to the Yukon. The only people who actually got rich were those who were selling the goods needed to make the trip. Each would-be gold prospector was required to lug approximately a ton of goods (!!) over a series of steep mountain passes to the point where they would catch a steamboat to the gold fields.

Juneau: Alaska’s capital city was the next stop. Our shore excursion took us to the excellent State Museum, and then to a private rain forest garden a few miles out of town. We didn’t explore too much of the city itself, only enough to note that the state capital (across the street from the state museum) is not exactly a paragon of beauty. (More like a big concrete box.) There was a great mural by native artist Crystal Worl depicting Elizabeth Peratrovich, kick-ass Alaskan civil rights activist, my new hero.

Valdez: Last town to be explored was Valdez. After a two-day scenic sail during which we saw mostly mountains and glaciers, it was somewhat pleasant to see a peopled place. Valdez, I learned by visiting the various museums there, had been beset by a huge earthquake in the 1964. The quake and ensuing tsumani pretty much leveled the town and left a lot of traumatized residents behind. (The oral histories on video at the museum were harrowing!) And then there was the oil spill…

Since these places are all only accessible from the outside world by water or air, at this point in my life I will probably never have the opportunity to visit them again. (As the advertisements of the cruise kept telling us, this was after all a “once in a lifetime experience.”) But I’m glad I did experience each one for a day, if just to skim the surface of their layers of history and culture. Here are some photos of the experience.

First glimpse of Ketchikan, coming into the harbor.
Totem carving workshop #1, Potlatch Totem Park.
Totem carving workshop #2, Saxman Village. Making no comparisons between the two, just saying resident carver here is a National Heritage Fellow.
The infamous Seward (the guy who facilitated buying Alaska for 7.2 million dollars, which was how much per acre, now?) gets his own “shame pole” at Saxman Village. Herbert told us the story of why: Seward just did not get the concept of “potlatch” – that is, the community gives you lots of great presents, and then you are supposed to reciprocate. He left Alaska without giving the community anything, earning him this non-complimentary depiction.
(Self explanatory.)
Dancers perform the history of Sitka, including this interpretation of the sailing ships that brought the first white settlers (the Russians). Maybe they looked almost this pretty and ephermal from a distance to the native inhabitants, but unfortunately their occupants stayed, and just kept coming.
St. Michaels has a dramatic backdrop of mountains. It sits right at the end of a very commercial street full of cafes and souvenir shops.
Our lady of Sitka, one of the icons in St. Michaels.
The most famous building on Skagway’s main drag is the “AB” (Arctic Brotherhood) Buidling, covered with over 8,000 pieces of driftwood. Its now a visitor’s center and part of the historical interpretation around town.
Okay, so imagine yourself one of those thousands of souls who braved the Alaskan environment to find their fortune in the late 1880s. This is the sort of terrain of the White Pass you’d have to lug your gear and supplies over.
And this goldminer’s graveyard outside of town is where you’d end up if you didn’t make it.
Juneau welcome sign at the cruise ship dock.
Part of the great collection of the State Museum. About half the displays are devoted to native art of the region.
Valdez harbor. I opted out of kayaking on this trip since I thought I might get really cold. Probably a good thing.
Interior of the Maxine and Jesse Whitney Museum includes lots of impressive taxidermy. (One way to get up close and personal with Alaskan wildlife without being eaten or trampled.)
Valdez also has a lot of fun public art, including carved wooden sculptures sprinkled around town. Loved this bear who got the salmon before the fisherman did.
Meanwhile, at the docks, a real fisherwoman held tight to her catch, and was very proud indeed.
Preview of my next planned installment…glaciers, mountains, plants and wildlife!