Sun, Bears, and the wacky end to my time in Alaska

Bob Carter drops us off in the Wrangell Narrows to continue our journey south

Brian glides through the glassy water as we approach the "Narrows"

Salmon filling the river (just about everything that is not white foam in the picture are Salmon)

Black Bear with a Salmon

Nothing like fresh blueberries gathered from the forest to spruce up granola

Taking care of some boat repairs after I chipped the bottom of my boat on a rock

Brian tries to thumb a ride from one of the "Duck Boat" tours, just one of the many gimmicks designed to separate cruise ship tourists from their money

Kajuk (a fabled bird) atop a totem pole in Ketchikan

I pull together a nice shirt and tie for the wedding (pictured here with the maid of honor, Diana)





Departing Petersburg

Phil flew out to head home and Brian and I began our trip south together. We will travel though 3 passages with "narrows" in the name, places where the flooding tide enters simultaneously from the north and south and then ebbs from the center out. Bob is gracious enough to drop us off further down the Wrangell Narrows, giving us a jump on our first day. We camp out on a small island in the middle of the channel and watch fishing boats, ferries, yachts, and other boats pass by all night. After seeing very few boats up close on the first two legs, it is fun to see so many different types of boats up close.
On our third day, we enter the our second channel named "The Narrows" on the east side of Wrangell Island. The conditions are as glassy as I have ever seen and we paddle for hours in a meditative state. Forward motion beckons as we ride the current through a blank canvass toward the narrows. The light fades into darkness and we haven't seen a spot to camp for hours. It is well after dark before we decide we can make do with a wet, rocky, buggy, grassy site in order to grab a few hours of sleep before catching the next tide. What we gave up in comfort was more than rewarded in experience. At 3:00 AM, I am startled awake. My eyes pop open as I listen before they begin to droop, heavy with sleep. Again, I am startled awake...this time I listen. The night is foggy and still, Brian and I are the only humans for many miles. From across the shore a solo howl, greeted by another and another. I wake Brian up. For 10 minutes the entire world is the little cove, the fog, the wolves, and us...surreal. My last trip up to Alaska, twice I found fresh Wolf tracks on the beach below my tent, the trip before that an encounter from 20 yards away. There is no other experience I have ever had with animals that is quite like that of the wolf. They move in what I can only describe as their own bubble, their own energy, their own world, all of which envelopes you within encounter. Even with the bears and whales, I still feel that I am myself separate from them, but in encounters with wolves I feel absorbed into their world, not separate but not the same. It is dream like.

Anan Creek Bears

Anan Creek is renowned as a Bear viewing spot. There are gun toating rangers, and viewing platforms in order to minimize the risk and protect the interests of humans and bears alike. After a morning of lounging in the sun, we paddle a mile across the channel to the mouth of the creek. The walk is a 1/2 mile boardwalk trail with signs of bears everywhere, scat on the boardwalk, prints, trails crossing the boardwalk...
We spend a few hours observing the bears and chatting with rangers and other visitors. This is one of the few places anywhere, where Brown and Black Bears feed side by side. There are cubs in the trees above us, sub adults below the platform, and many more adults in the creek below.
The creek is teeming with Salmon, thousands of them making their way up river to spawn and die, feeding bears, eagles, gulls, and the forest in the process. In the eddy's, Salmon gather before squirming and leaping their way up to the next level (half of them get washed back down, only to try again). The whole eddy sways with the movement of the Salmon, packed together they are almost a single entity, the individual yields to the larger whole. Salmon carcasses litter the creek and its banks. The bears are literally gorging themselves, plucking the fish, eating the brains and the eggs before moving on to the next one. Smaller bears, Bald Eagles, and Gulls gobble up the scraps. The DNA of Salmon can be found in the plants of the forest. They quite literally leave the creeks, head to sea, and years later bring nutrients from the sea back up stream to be distributed throughout the flora and fauna of the forest. I am struck by the generosity of the Salmon.
There is a hierarchy amongst the bears which is very clear. A black bear who the rangers call "Maximus" runs the show, even asserting his presence to "Geni" the Brown Bear who comes up river to feed along side the Black Bears. There is a German couple who has spent a week here, observing the bears 2-3 times a day, they are enthralled. Even the rangers are captivated, eyes partially glazed over with wonder as they take in the world of the bear.
As we paddle back to camp our sense of human time is skewed, we chat, wander, sing, and galk at the scenery, giddy with the reality of what we have just witnessed. Again, dream like.

Mr. Melley and his "sunny disposition"

I have warned Brian about being prepared for rain and about "transporting our bubble of dry." So far we have had only a slight drizzle for a couple of hours which was followed by sun. Finally on our 5th day we get rain. However, this too is short lived and quickly followed by sun...the sunshine lasts until after Brian flies home. He does not completely believe my stories of rain. Over time the rationale for the unseasonably dry weather is that it is because of Brian's "sunny disposition." Indeed he is chipper and jovial throughout, even with intense neck pain. It is a pleasure to travel with Brian, many jokes, stories, and curiosities. I feel less like I am on an expedition and more on a childlike exploration of the Tongass. Except for his inexplicable propensity to refer to himself in the third person as "daddy," I thoroughly enjoy our time together.

The rant of Sketchikan

We have a short 12 mile day to paddle through the Tongass Narrows and into Ketchikan. We ride the flood and a following sea, surfing small wind waves. As we approach town, everything changes. The narrows constrict and water gets funky, there are ships of all sizes coming and going from in front and behind us, ferries criss cross the channel from town to the airport on the other side, and there are dozens of float planes taking off and landing all around us. It is the most harrowing paddling of the trip.
We land at the harbor master dock, unable to find the kayak shop that has agreed to let us use their dock. As we unload boats, two "Duck Tour" boats drive off the street and into the water in their amphibious vehicle. They are loaded with a few of the many thousands of tourists from the cruise ships off on sight-seeing excursions.
The town seems to revolve around the cruise ships. 2-4 ships arrive in the morning and depart in the afternoon. In between there is a flurry of activity focused around getting people off of the ships and in some fashion separating them from their money in exchange for entertainment, sightseeing, jewelry, food, trinkets...This place feels fast, busy, and impersonal.
I call my mom to let her know that we are off the water and check my messages. My ferry for the next day has broken down, leaving me stranded in Sketchikan for 4 more days. The folks at the ferry are not only unsympathetic, but antagonistic. They inform me that I am not confirmed on the next ferry and that they only have to let me bring one kayak on with me. For all that Petersburg is, Ketchikan is not. It is a place that has sold out to the cruise ship industry (one of the most insidious industries I have encountered), exchanging their culture, their community, and their way of life for the potential financial rewards of extraction...extracting something much less tangible yet no less important or irreplaceable than fish, timber, or minerals.
Despite this, I try to make the best of my time here. Brian and I take a float plane/boat trip up into Misty Fjords National Monument with tourist from the cruise ships, we are as much a curiosity as anything they see on the tour. We visit the various totem poles around the city (this is one very cool part of Ketchikan, the self described "Totem Pole Capital of the World"), we wander town and watch Salmon spawn in the creeks, rest up tired and sore muscles, and hit some of the local bars at night. I settle into a hostel, hosted by a curmudgeonly old local who curses more than my worst students, meet some interesting fellow travelers trying to experience Alaska minus the eclair bar laden cruise ships, stumble upon a small group of locals playing bluegrass on a Friday night, and get invited to a wedding on Saturday night as a date of the maid of honor...see, wacky. I am stuck here trying to just go with it.
I make some calls to change my plans, cancel the next leg of paddling with Bob Harrison from Bellingham to Port Townsend, arrange for Heather Sullivan to borrow a car from Sarah McNulty and Craig in order to pick me up in Bellingham, call Dave Morris to get some help loading boats and gear onto the ferry (he and his students were scheduled to catch the same ferry out of Wrangell). Once again I am reminded of how amazing my friends and family are and how much generosity is behind turning my dream into a reality.

The Other Side of Ketchikan

It takes me a number of days, but at some point through the haze of cruise ships I encounter another side to Ketchikan. Community bluegrass on a Friday night followed by a wedding on Saturday where I meet folks living here with a deeper connection to place and community. The end of my stay here is a blast thanks to Amos, Katie, Carla and Hamilton (the newlyweds), Aaron, Nate, Angie, Kailey the Preacher Lady, Lambchop, and others. Lambchop reminds me not to judge a book by its cover and that there is much more to Ketchikan than what you might find right off the bat.

Where to next...

Tana's weddin! I couldn't be more excited about returning to Port Townsend for Tana and Rick's wedding. It will be a great reunion with old friends from my Yosemite days, my mom and brothers are coming up to visit and drive my car and boats back to the bay area (Thank you), and a visit with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Seattle.
My whole time up here I have not had any real cravings for food, movies, not even my bed. My only cravings have been to be with friends and family, I am soooo excited to be with everyone in Port Townsend, Seattle, and later in the end of September/early October in the bay area.
My time in Alaska has been everything I was looking for and more. I feel fulfilled in ways that are difficult to adequately put into in words. I have new dreams of returning here, to explore and be immersed once again in a different way of being in the world...a different way than we even have access to any more in the lower 48.
In the end of August, I trade my kayaks for a bike and begin my tour down the coast from Port Townsend to La Jolla. I have never bike toured before, so I imagine the learning curve will be steep. It has been a number of years since I have tried something new like this and I am excited...excited to see the coast in a different way, excited to use my legs, excited to try something new.

As of now, I don't have anyone joining me for the biking leg. If anyone would like to join me for any part, just let me know, I would love the company. If you are worried about being in shape, or keeping up, don't. I still operate on "Harwell Time" never moving very fast, so come join me for a trip down the coast. Finally, thanks for the comments on the blog, the emails, and the phone calls. I love hearing from everyone, and look forward to it when I arrive in town even more than eating fried food and showering.