(Photo of Hammer Slough, other side of Main Street from old downtown, Petersburg, AK)

We are now almost halfway between the Alaska/Canadian border and Glacier Bay in the small town of Petersburg. One of our guidebooks suggests that even for slow boats such as ours, you are never more than a day or two from an airport, meaning that most of the small towns have service by Alaska Airlines. Except for the cities of Haines and Skagway, which are located on the mainland at the extreme northeast corner of Southeast Alaska, as this maritime portion of Alaska is known, all of the towns are located on islands and are accessible only by plane or boat. This includes the state capital of Juneau. Populations range from about 3,100 in Juneau to about 2,500 in Wrangell, so these are all towns smaller than most in which I have ever lived. This is really nice for us as these towns always have grocery stores, hardware stores, laundromats, fuel docks, and most of the conveniences that people need, but there is a small town atmosphere that is most refreshing. Along the way, we have also been to several remote anchorages; and at our last anchorage, we shared it with another boat for the first time since arriving in Alaska.

Since leaving Ketchikan, which was described in the previous Reflections, we have visited Wrangell and are now in Petersburg. Wrangell, a town whose economy seems to be based around fishing and boat repair, would appear to be a man's town as the two to three block main street contained four hardware stores and three bars. The harbor is filled with fishing boats. The boatyard is the finest that I have ever seen (not that I have seen LOTS of them, but have seen quite a few). It is relatively new, built on the site of a lumber mill that was shut down. It caters primarily to the fishing fleet and also services recreational boats like ours. There are several acres of concrete pavement, clean as a whistle. Boatyards with which I am familiar are either asphalt or gravel and almost always have a layer of dirt that is inevitably tracked into the boat. Around the perimeter are several unique boat sheds with three sides, the fourth side is open, and substantial "hoop" frame and heavy tarpaulin roofs. What makes them unique to me is that the height of the walls is determined by how many storage containers are stacked one atop the other. Some of the sheds, where you can work on boats out of the weather, are tall enough to fit our sailboat inside. This is impressive when you consider that it is about 70 feet from the bottom of our keel to the top of our mast. When boats are hauled out of the water they are laid out in double rows similar to a parking lot. Again, in the boat yards I am used to seeing, getting power and water to your boat can involve attaching multiple lengths of power cord or hose together to reach your spot. In Wrangell, there is a raised median down the center of each double row that contains both power and water supply on pedestals located in close proximity to every boat. This is a very well organized boatyard. No loose timbers, jack stands, pallets, wire, rusted parts or pipe lying around. Some of the non-boating people may be asking themselves, "How do they get boats, longer and heavier than a fully loaded tractor/trailer from the water into a parking lot?" Glad you asked. They use a simple, but ingenious device known as a travel lift. A travel lift has three sides built of heavy structural steel members which sit atop four wheels, two of which can turn so the entire unit can be steered. Two hydraulic winches are mounted at the bottom of each of the two sidewalls. Wire cable extends from the winches to the top of each sidewall. At the end of the wire cable very heavy canvas or nylon straps are attached. The two sets of straps can be attached together which look kind of like two humongous swing sets. Two parallel piers just a little bit narrower than the distance between the two sets of wheels are built out into the water. The travel lift, with straps or slings attached together drives out onto the piers and drops the slings into the water. You drive your boat over the slings, the travel lift winches the slings out of the water until the bottom of the boat can clear the dock and then drive away with the boat hanging below to the designated parking space. Once the boat is properly positioned, the travel lift will lower the boat onto a few strategically placed timbers. Jack stands will also be strategically placed around the sides of the boat to keep it from falling over. Once all is secure, the straps will be separated and lifted so the lift can drive away to go get the next boat. Wrangell currently has a travel lift capable of lifting 150,000 pounds, and one capable of lifting 300,000 pounds was under construction while we were there. A very impressive boatyard.

Wrangell is at the doorstep of some impressive recreational opportunities, boating, camping, hiking, fishing, hunting, kayaking and river rafting. It is located near the mouth of the Stikine River, the fastest flowing navigable river in North America, reaching 330 miles through Alaska and into British Columbia. They claim it to be one of the most scenic, unspoiled natural river systems left in the United States. What I personally know for certain is that it carries a lot of silt. When the tide comes up, the associated current brings clear water from the ocean and pushes the silt-laden water back toward the mouth of the river. When the tide goes down, the reverse happens. We were at the fuel dock and watched as a line of brown water raced into the harbor. It took less than a minute for that very brown line to advance the forty-three feet from our bow till it passed on by the stern.

While Wrangell was kind of nice, Petersburg must be one of the best towns we have ever visited. Must admit that conditions were extremely favorable to get a good impression. We arrived under sunny blue skies for the first of the four-day Little Norway Festival. This was at the end of a near perfect transit of the infamous Wrangell Narrows, a twenty-mile, narrow, twisting, and fast current passage. We had heard that this festival was worth attending and since Kris's grandfather came directly from Norway, this was on our must do list.

Petersburg is a special place. A Norwegian immigrant founded it in the first years of the last century. While hordes of people were running around looking for gold, this guy was thinking fish. When he found a place sheltered from the really big winds that had more than an average amount, for this mountainous area, of level ground he was intrigued. When he discovered that lots of ice, free for the taking just floated right on by he decided that this was the place for a fish packing facility. Halibut has always been a desirable fish, but it does not can well like salmon and needed to be bedded in ice for shipment down to Seattle and beyond. Le Conte glacier, located about 20 miles away, is the southernmost tidewater glacier in North America. Tidewater glacier means that it flows directly into tidal seawater where chunks, sometimes huge, pretty much continually fall off the face into the seawater. The largest pieces that fall or calve off are called icebergs, but most commonly smaller pieces, called bergie bits (sounds like a new fast food item), calve off and float away. All they had to do was collect the floating ice, tow it to the plant and break it up to preserve the halibut. A thriving small town was born. Norwegian fisherman flocked to the town. Many descendants of the original settlers remain and the Norwegian influence can be seen all over town. Shutters were hand painted with Norwegian designs, storefronts displayed Norwegian items, sidewalks were etched with Norwegian designs and many places proudly flew the Norwegian flag alongside the United States and Alaskan flags. The festival is in commemoration of Norwegian Independence Day, May 17.

The Festival was awesome. Every day there were one or two major food events that featured either Norwegian delicacies or local seafood. The "Pickled Herring Band," consisting of an accordion, drums, electric guitar, and a tuba, appeared at many of the venues. Main Street, all two blocks of it, was blocked off for two days for the parade and street venders. There was an excellent fireworks display and the town's first ever ladies flat track roller derby in the high school gym. Many adults and children wore traditional Norwegian clothing. A large group of Vikings (male) dressed in furs and leather brandishing spears and tankards while Valkyries (females) dressed the same way, but much more provocatively, and roamed the town threatening havoc (all in fun). For three consecutive nights, the comedic melodrama "Peril on the High Seas or... Let's Get Together and do Launch" was staged in the high school auditorium. It was an absolutely hilarious play set aboard a cruise liner in the "Flapper" years. At the start of the performance one of the actors came on stage and told us that audience participation was required. So whenever the villains, Aracnia Webb or Snively Swine, appeared, boos and hisses rang throughout the theater. Soft ahhhs were echoed whenever the lovely, innocent heroine Merry Be Sweet made an appearance, and raucous cheering when the hero Cary De Mille stepped up. It was finally Sgt. Willie Ketchum who finally apprehended the villains. That all of this was put together and excellently managed by a town of about 3,300 people made it all even more impressive.

After our first walk through the town, I was left with the impression that there must be some serious wealth in the area. The pick up trucks mostly looked newer. Homes, businesses, yards, streets and sidewalks are all neat and tidy, nothing flashy, just an aura of quiet wealth. We later discovered the per capita income is $64,000 and that many of the fishermen were indeed millionaires. These millionaire fishermen put their money into improving their boats and not into fancy cars or big homes. There was no way for outsiders like us to determine the difference between the boat owners and their crew just by looking at them. The overwhelming sense of community is apparent everywhere we went. Petersburg is in a beautiful natural setting with snow-capped mountains all around. I have fallen in love with the place and know that Kris is getting worried about that. Granted that we were here during very fine weather conditions for the best social time of the town's year. We have not endured the cold, wet and dark winters, but this seems like a very fine place to plant some roots.

The next few weeks should see us in waters that will be full of humpback whales with substantial quantities of floating bergie bits. This is intimidating and exciting all at the same time. Stay tuned.

Velkomen
Kirk